by Lee Winter
“I did no such thing. You simply assumed Tad was my boyfriend. Everyone did.”
“Please.” Her playful warm hands stopped moving. “We both know the truth. You wanted us to think that. So why did you kiss me out of the blue that day? I’ve always wondered.”
Catherine’s mind tasted the intoxicating memory. Lauren had been looking mussed and rumpled, as though she had only just fallen out of bed. Her guard was down. Her face was relaxed, soft, an inquisitive expression in her eyes. Those long, athletic legs were on display under her sleeping shorts and they were breathtaking. Something powerful stirred inside. She recognized it in a startling flash. She wanted Lauren. Not just the subconscious version of the woman who taunted her in her dreams. She wanted her in reality, too. And oh, how tempting all that vast expanse of flesh and muscle and attractiveness had been.
She remembered Lauren’s irritation at the photos and what they meant. Who Tad really was. Or wasn’t. Her narrowing eyes, the soft, full lips, pulling down.
“You were so very annoyed with me.” Amusement leaked from Catherine’s voice. “It was unexpectedly arousing. All that passion? All that electricity? I stepped up to you, inside your space. I thought about kissing the anger off your lips. Those beautiful lips that should be teased and tasted.”
There was a soft gasp.
“I’m well aware I can be a closed book. But right then, I wanted you to know the truth. I wanted you to know I understood you way better than you realized. I was tired of having to pretend I didn’t know how it felt to be gay and vulnerable. I admired that you wore who you were so bravely on your sleeve. No masks. I have so many. As I studied you, I had a brilliant idea to just…explain. Everything. And…well.”
“You kissed me.” The words were breathy.
“I did. And you kissed me back. I hadn’t expected that. I mean, I’d perhaps hoped you found me attractive, too, but it was barely a conscious thought. Do you know how it felt when I realized my interest wasn’t one-sided?”
“Probably about the same as me discovering that the woman I thought was hot as hell wasn’t straight as an ironing board after all. You made my knees weak with that kiss.” Lauren’s fingers did a sexy little swirl across her back, slow and seductive.
Instantly, Catherine was back in that moment. As their lips and tongues had moved together, Lauren’s breathing had grown ragged. Her arousal had fed Catherine’s own, until the moment she’d realized two equal but opposite things: she wanted to keep on kissing this woman for a long, long time, and that was a very bad idea with her career in such a state of flux.
“So, our fighting was what turned you on?” Lauren teased her.
“Our chemistry did. The way you challenged me woke something up inside me. Well, a great deal of things.” Catherine smirked.
“And look at us now.” Lauren’s fingers slid across her skin, swirling around her shoulder blades and then down to press the small of Catherine’s back. Her thumbs skated up either side of her spine, pausing to dig in at intervals, until they reached Catherine’s shoulders. Then her fingers slipped forward and over to brush her collarbone before gently pulling back on her shoulders, drawing all her tension out with it.
It was divine. Catherine moaned.
Lauren leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Shush. We have to be quiet.”
Her forward movement rubbed Lauren’s bare center across Catherine’s lower back. The heat of that motion made her flush and desire pool between her legs. “Do that again,” Catherine said with a gasp.
“We can’t.” Lauren’s voice was strained and regretful, but she obeyed anyway. She rocked against her, sliding over the small of Catherine’s back.
Catherine forced herself not to react, not to say a single word that would stop the incredible sensations. Her breathing became deeper.
That appeared to set something off in Lauren who draped herself gently over Catherine and began to undulate against her, her coarse hairs pressed against the swell of Catherine’s ass.
“Oh,” Catherine groaned. She would kill to have something to purchase against. Her body was suddenly burning for release.
“Ssssh.” Lauren’s voice was strangled as she continued to rub against her.
“God.” Catherine pushed back into the warmth. The bed squeaked loudly and thumped against the wall. She did it again, not caring. The sensation was amazing.
There was a muffled bang from somewhere down the hall, like something being dropped. It was probably unrelated, and Catherine was about to say as much when Lauren flung herself off her back with a muttered curse.
Catherine rolled over to protest but one look at Lauren silenced her.
Lauren’s shirt was rucked up over her thighs, her arousal obvious, but the haunted expression on her face was anything but sexy.
“Hey,” Catherine said gently. “You okay?”
Glancing at the door, Lauren tugged her shirt down with shaky fingers. “Damn it,” she hissed. She shot Catherine a regretful look. “We can’t. Not here. I just…I can’t.”
Catherine pulled Lauren into her arms, wondering what was causing such an extreme reaction. “Never mind,” she said in her ear. She smiled. “It’s not like we’re all pent up and have to keep our hands to ourselves for an eternity.”
Lauren’s explosive giggle was muffled when she pressed her face into Catherine’s neck. “God. I’m sorry I freaked out. I went straight back to being fifteen and caught.”
“Caught?”
“You know. Um…stress relief.”
“Ah. By whom?”
Lauren’s cheeks flamed. “Meemaw. Who turned about as red as I did, then hauled me off to our local Methodist minister for this long, humiliating speech about worshipping my temple, not defiling it with lustful thoughts.”
“Oh dear. You were defiling your temple?” Catherine whispered into her hair. “How terrible.”
“Hey! It was awful. I was afraid this would happen. I just can’t stay in the mood in the same house my family’s in.”
Catherine kissed Lauren’s cheek. “That’s a shame.”
“Behave. No kissing me like that.”
“I will be good,” she promised. “No sex in the family home.”
“No moaning, either,” Lauren’s muffled voice said as she burrowed deeper into her neck. “Or groaning. Or any of your sexy-as-hell glorious sighs.”
“I see,” Catherine confirmed. “Our bedroom will be like a temple.”
“And no temple jokes,” Lauren grumbled. “It will just make me want to defile it, and you, all over again.”
“Okay.” Catherine stroked her hair. “By the way, it was a lovely massage.”
“Which part? Before or after the therapeutic aspects?”
“Yes.”
Lauren gave a tiny snort. “We should get some sleep. Which will be hard since you have me so turned on I can’t see straight.”
“Sleep it is. And we just won’t think about what almost happened.” Her lips curved into a smile as she added sweetly, “Or how soft your skin felt, or the delicious, slippery, wet sounds of you sliding over my back.” Desire shot through her again, and Catherine’s breathing caught.
“Ohh. Stop it. You have to stop,” Lauren begged. She slid around and spooned against Catherine’s back, her rock-hard nipples pressing into her.
With a grimace at how aroused she was, Catherine clenched her eyes shut and resolved to sleep and not to think how very long ten days could be.
Chapter 8 –
Bases Loaded
“C’mon, Laur!”
A banging on the door woke Catherine from her light sleep, and she rolled over blindly to nudge Lauren in the ribs. Unable to resist, her hand kept going and slid under Lauren’s shirt to cup her breast. The sensation was delectable.
“One of your brothers is calling you,” she mumbled, her eyes
opening. “Probably should answer before he bursts in and finds you in a compromising position.” She gave Lauren’s breast a provocative squeeze.
Lauren inhaled sharply. She blinked a few times before her gaze fell to Catherine’s bare shoulders. “I’m not the one who seems to think shirts are optional.”
Catherine gave a languid stretch, allowing one breast to pop above the sheet. Lauren’s conflicted expression made her laugh.
The door banged again. “Sis! Come on! We’ve cleaned up the diamond. It’s Softball Sunday! Jace’s crew’s here. Meemaw’s back from church. We’re all waiting for you!”
“Softball Sunday?” Lauren moved in a flash, her torso suddenly vertical, taking the sheet with her. She stared at the door.
Catherine was now entirely bare down to her stomach. “Figures,” she drawled. “That’s what gets your attention.”
The door knob gave a warning rattle.
Lauren’s eyes went wide before her gaze shot to Catherine’s state of nudity. “Matthew! Do not open that door!” She wrenched the sheet over Catherine, covering her head as well in her haste.
“As if!” The cackle from behind the door was far too suggestive. “Might scar me for life.”
Tugging the sheet off her face, Catherine rolled her eyes. If only we were doing something worthy of lifetime scarring.
“Anyway, Laur, get your ass downstairs ASAP. If you can tear it away from your woman!” There was an even more raucous laugh followed by receding footsteps.
“Christ.” Lauren hissed. “Matthew thinks we’re going at it like rabbits.” Her cheeks were red, which only increased Catherine’s amusement. “And you’re not helping.”
“No? What did I do? I was just lying here.”
“Topless. You were lying here topless. Reminding me of last night. And what I’m sorely missing.” Lauren studied Catherine’s naked torso with immense regret. “But it’s softball,” she whispered. “Do you know how long it’s been?” Her voice lifted to a whine. “It’s been forever.”
“I see.” Catherine dragged the sheet lower down her chest. “Softball.”
Lauren’s breath caught. “I mean, it used to be my life, you know?”
Catherine nudged the sheet lower, revealing her pale stomach and two tiny freckles. Then a little farther, hinting at the fact that she was indeed entirely nude. “I fully understand. By all means. Go…play…softball.” She wrenched the sheet down to her thighs, revealing all.
Lauren’s pupils became wide and dark. Then she shook her head. “I swear you went to bed with clothes on.”
“Did I?” Catherine had in fact divested herself of her sleepwear after a bathroom break a few hours ago, hoping for some predawn intimacy while the house was asleep. She hadn’t banked on falling back to sleep before she could wake Lauren.
“You’re very beautiful,” Lauren added in a reverent tone. She grinned at her and jumped to her feet. “But so’s softball! Dibs on the shower.”
Catherine pursed her lips. “Nice to know where I stand.”
“Yup!” Lauren said cheerfully. “Besides, being pent up will help my game. I’m gonna thrash my brothers.” She disappeared into the en suite.
As she heard the water turn on, Catherine huffed out a breath. Life was cruel. And she was definitely in the mood to see Lauren destroy the King boys now.
Catherine had never seen a full game of softball before. It hadn’t particularly interested her. She did know enough about it to demur when the assembled players all tried to insist she “give it a go.” Catherine had a policy in life that if one was going to embarrass oneself, doing it with witnesses was just foolish.
The players were comprised of Lauren and four of her brothers—God only knew where that missing one was yet—and a bunch of chunky redheaded neighborhood friends dubbed Jace’s crew.
Meemaw was sitting on a beat-up wooden chair not too far from Owen, who was standing tall behind home plate, getting ready to play umpire. Catherine strolled closer, watching Lauren warming up in a white jersey with Iowa in yellow and black letters.
“It’s her old Hawkeye team jersey,” Meemaw said, catching her gaze. “One she wore when she helped her team win the Big Ten Championship in oh-three.” She pointed to a nearby hay bale. “Draw that up. Sit. Watch and learn.”
Catherine eyed the dusty hay bale and considered her expensive linen pants. Was there a dearth of actual seating around here for some reason? Or was she being tested?
“Well?” Meemaw’s sharp eyes were challenging.
Catherine dragged the bale over, ignoring the itching of her fingers, and duly sat on it, crossing her legs at the ankles. She slid her sunglasses from her head to her nose.
Lauren was on the pitcher’s circle and shouting to a redheaded girl guarding first.
“They’re doing five-a-piece, girls versus boys,” Meemaw said. “So, it’ll be a pounding.”
“Oh?” Catherine took in Lauren, who was now shaking out her right arm. “Whose?”
Meemaw smothered a snort. “You’ll see.”
Lauren turned back to face home, catching sight of Catherine. She straightened, grinned at her, then adjusted her black cap.
“Oh boy, fixing her cap like that.” Meemaw cackled. “Sure sign there’s gonna be trouble for someone.”
The first pitch smashed into the catcher’s well-worn glove with a thud. The catcher, a short and plump young woman, staggered backwards and gave a low whistle.
Catherine hadn’t even seen the ball at all.
“Aw man, Laur, have some mercy!” the batter called. “You’re not playing for the titles now.”
Catherine squinted. From behind, all the King boys looked the same to her. But she was fairly sure from his sly tone that this one was Lucas. She leaned forward onto her elbows, savoring his upcoming humiliation already.
The second pitch was even faster, judging by the fact it landed the catcher flat on her back. Her ample belly went up and down as she sucked in a deep, gasping breath, then sat up.
“I was wrong,” Meemaw said, delight evident in her voice. “She’s got you to impress. Not gonna be a pounding but a massacre.”
“You okay, Suze?” Lauren shouted.
The catcher nodded and crawled back into position, tossing the ball back.
“That was so fast,” Catherine said. “I can’t even follow the ball.”
“Fast? That was nothing. In her heyday, Lauren was clocking just shy of eighty miles per hour. National team scout came and checked her out once. She wasn’t too interested, though. Only ever wanted to be a reporter, that one.”
The third pitch was a slightly slower ball that seemed an easy strike until it lifted suddenly to chest level. Lucas was already taking a wild swing, his bat clipping the barest edge of white leather. The ball spun and bounced almost at his feet, giving a drunken spin.
“Ha, it’s her rise ball.” Meemaw laughed. “That got him.”
Lucas took off toward first base at a slow trot as Suze scrambled forward to pick it up.
“Hey, Laur,” Lucas called as he jogged. “We heard about you and your girlfriend this morning.” Innuendo dripped off his tongue.
Lauren bared her teeth at him before looking fearfully over to Meemaw and Catherine.
Meemaw stiffened. Catherine kept her eyes firmly on the game, refusing to be embarrassed. Not that they’d even done anything to warrant the innuendo.
Pointing at Matthew, Lauren threatened various dire injuries for his loose lips, causing the catcher to laugh hard, clutch her stomach, and add her own helpful suggestions for names to call him.
Suddenly, Lucas bolted like a hare past first base and on toward second. He was full pelt, his strong legs pounding the grass, arms pumping furiously.
“Crap! Suze!” Lauren shouted.
The catcher, cursing under her breath, sprang to her feet,
and hurled the ball she’d scooped up earlier toward second. It was a deadly accurate throw, impressively so, but she was too late. Lucas bounced up and down on the base, shouting, “Suckers!”
“Was that legal?” Catherine frowned.
“Oh yes,” Meemaw said. “It’s also a mighty embarrassing thing to allow to happen. My competitive granddaughter will be dying of humiliation right about now for being tricked into getting distracted.”
Lauren indeed had a pinched look on her face.
Lucas was doubled over laughing.
“Don’t be a shit, Lucas.” Lauren readjusted her cap, grim determination on her features. “No one likes a sore winner.”
“Language!” Meemaw bellowed.
“Sorry!” Lauren threw her an apologetic look.
Catherine tried to hide her amusement at her hangdog expression.
With a scowl, Meemaw said, “Her mouth’s been like a farmhand’s since the day she moved to the big city.”
“I can assure you she didn’t learn those words from me.”
Meemaw uttered a dissatisfied harrumph. Her gaze was drawn back to the game. There was a thwack and a cheer. “Oh dear.”
Catherine returned her attention to the field to see Matthew diving at first base and almost taking out the legs of the woman guarding it. Fortunately, the fielder jumped in time. Lucas, meanwhile, ran on to third.
“This game seems a little dirtier than it first appears,” Catherine noted.
“That’s softball for you.” Meemaw fixed her gaze on Catherine. “And a little dirt never hurt anyone. But I’m guessing you don’t much get dirt on you, do you?” The challenging expression was back. “Funny that, given where you work. Our nation’s capital’s just a blackness on the soul, am I right?” Her expression demanded nothing less than absolute agreement.
Catherine eyed a redheaded teenager heading up to bat. He looked somewhat terrified. She wasn’t surprised, given the speed at which Lauren pitched. “DC blackens many a person, true,” she answered. “But take Lauren. She is the least power-hungry person I’ve ever met, so I’d say many people’s souls survive there just fine.”