by Karis Walsh
Cal busied herself in the kitchen, getting glasses and filling them with ice and whiskey, feeding the collies. Because Rachel had been in danger tonight didn’t mean the differences between them had gone away. By the time Rachel appeared in the doorway—her dark hair curling damply and her pale face accented by ugly red welts—Cal had gotten her libido somewhat in check. Enough to keep from walking over to Rachel and tearing off her clothes.
“Take your shirt off,” she said.
“I…what?”
“Just the sweatshirt,” Cal said as she carried the drinks into her small living room. She set them on the coffee table and gestured toward the sofa. “You can leave the tank on, but I want to check your burns and put some ointment on them.”
She went into the bathroom and got a jar of burn cream, hesitating for a moment when she was wrapped in the textures of Rachel. The room was warm and steamy from Rachel’s shower, and the scent of rosemary and lemon lingered. Rachel had used Cal’s shampoo, of course. Cal had expected she would, but she hadn’t anticipated how much the thought turned her on. Rachel in her shower, with lather from her shampoo sliding over her slick skin…
Cal shook off the erotic image and returned to the living room, only to be confronted by an even sexier picture. Rachel was resting with her head on the back of the couch and her eyes closed, and Tar curled in a tight ball at her feet. Feathers was on the sofa with her head resting on Rachel’s lap, and she slowly ruffled her fingers through the dog’s fur. She had obediently taken off Cal’s USC sweatshirt, and the gray tank showed off her beautifully toned arms. The color also emphasized Rachel’s pallor, however, and Cal swallowed her desire to take Rachel right then. Hard. Instead, she squeezed into the small space on Rachel’s other side and uncapped the jar of ointment. She dipped her finger in the cream and smeared some across an inch-long burn on Rachel’s cheekbone.
Rachel felt Cal’s presence even before she sat down, but she kept her eyes closed until the ointment touched her raw flesh. The first brush of Cal’s finger had felt cool and soothing, but the cream stung. She pulled away.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s only a couple of scrapes.”
“If you’re so fine, why are you cringing?” Cal slid her fingers along Rachel’s scalp as she used her other hand to attack the burns on her neck.
Rachel kept her head still as Cal’s fingers curled through her hair. Cal’s touch was almost enough to chase away the pain of what felt like a million paper cuts. “I’m not cringing, I’m trying to get away from the disgusting smell of that stuff. Ouch! What the hell is that crap made of? Salt?”
“This scrape on your collarbone is pretty deep,” Cal said, concern apparent in her voice. “And the ointment is unscented. You’re being a baby.” She withdrew her hand from Rachel’s hair and used it to cradle Rachel’s forearm in her lap. “Tell me what happened.”
Rachel stared at Cal’s fingers as they gently traced the crisscross of burn marks on the inside of her wrist. She focused on the stinging pain as the ointment scalded her already burned flesh and told Cal the whole story, from her jog to her drive to the Lanford farm.
“So it was deliberate,” Cal said. She reached across Rachel’s lap for her other arm.
“Had to be. The gate was open when I got there, and we were always so careful with the flares. No one would have moved them to the feed room.”
“Any idea who? Or why?”
“I can’t imagine the horses were the target,” Rachel said. She leaned back and closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling of Cal’s fingers trailing over her skin, despite the sting of the cream. “We carry full insurance policies on the leased horses, but they’re not valuable enough to be worth this kind of crime. Maybe someone wants the whole unit to fail.”
She shuddered as Cal lowered the neckline of her tank and rubbed cream over a burn above Rachel’s left breast. Cal mumbled an apology, but Rachel knew her reaction had nothing to do with pain. Her nipples tightened in response to Cal’s gentle strokes over the swell of her chest, and Rachel had to fight to keep from arching her back and pushing closer to Cal’s hand.
“The gate was open, but the lock was intact,” Rachel continued, focusing on the story and not on Cal’s shiny gold hair as it hovered tantalizingly close to her breasts. She imagined the strands brushing across her bare nipples and she inhaled sharply. “So it must have been someone who has access. But there’s only the team, Hargrove, a couple of captains.”
“I can’t believe any of your officers would hurt the horses,” Cal said. She raised Rachel’s tank top and leaned closer as she worked over the burns on Rachel’s abdomen.
Rachel involuntarily contracted her abs. She wasn’t going to last, not if Cal kept talking while she worked, her cool breath so comforting and arousing as it played over Rachel’s skin.
“I can’t, either. You should have seen Don with Fancy yesterday. He seems to really like her. And Clark was so upset when he showed up at the barn this morning. And Billie? No way.”
Rachel shifted forward at Cal’s urging—she didn’t feel capable of denying Cal anything at the moment—and she rested her elbows on her knees as Cal lifted the tank and rubbed her hand over Rachel’s bare back.
“Maybe it’s not about the unit,” Cal said. Was Rachel imagining things, or had her voice taken on a huskier tone? “Maybe someone wanted you to fail.”
“That’s a long list,” Rachel said wryly. She sighed as Cal’s hand smoothed over her back. No ointment, just a comforting gesture.
“Your lieutenant didn’t seem fond of you.”
“But she is fond of the unit. It was her idea from the start, so why would she jeopardize it? If the horses had been killed in the fire, there’s no way the city would rebuild the program. She doesn’t like me, but I can’t believe she hates me so much she’d destroy her own project to put me out of a job.”
“What about the guy you had arrested? What was his name?” Cal rubbed her thumbs along the sides of Rachel’s spine, and she leaned into the relaxing pressure.
“Mm. That’s nice,” she said. She couldn’t help herself. The touch felt so good to her sore muscles. “Sheehan. Yeah, I could see him or someone in his family doing this to get back at me. He didn’t have access to the yard, but it wouldn’t be impossible.”
Cal massaged the tense muscles around Rachel’s shoulder blades. She had run out of burns and scrapes to treat, but she didn’t want to break their contact, especially given the new topic of conversation. If Rachel had really been the target, what would the attacker try next?
“I can’t believe anyone would do this to get revenge,” Rachel said, her voice muffled since she was now leaning on the coffee table, resting her head on her crossed arms.
“You have the most to lose if the team fails,” Cal said. She pushed with the heels of her hands as she moved them up Rachel’s spine again. She lightened the pressure as she swept her hands down and over Rachel’s ribcage. She repeated the movement, barely tickling along the sides of Rachel’s breasts.
“Me and Hargrove. But you’re right. This was my last chance to redeem myself to the department. I don’t know what I would have done if we had lost the horses.”
Cal stilled her hands on Rachel’s ribs. She could feel the rise and fall of her breath. “So the team won’t be disbanded?”
“I hope not,” Rachel said. She sat up and pulled the tank down again. “We have the horses, and it looked like the tack room wasn’t badly burned, so we might be able to salvage our saddles. I kind of thought we could train here until the barn can be rebuilt. Or we can make other arrangements.”
“No,” Cal said. She took her time screwing the cap back on the jar of ointment, unwilling to meet Rachel’s eyes. She was worried about her. Worried about what might happen next. She could so easily picture Rachel rushing into the fire. Maybe she wouldn’t be so lucky next time. “You’re welcome to keep the horses here as long as necessary.”
“Hey,” Rachel said. She took the jar
away from Cal and set it on the table before she wrapped her hands around Cal’s. “Most likely the inspectors will find this was a simple act of arson. Horrible, yes, but not personal. If I really thought someone was after me or the team, I wouldn’t keep them here and put you and your family in danger.”
“I know. I just…” Cal paused. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. How relieved she was to have Rachel and the horses safe. How she kept replaying the imagined spectacle of Rachel, the burning barn, the panicked horses until she felt as if her own lungs were filling with smoke, making it impossible to breathe.
Rachel finished the sentence for her by leaning over and brushing her mouth against Cal’s. Cal inhaled and felt Rachel do the same. They needed each other in order to keep breathing tonight. To get past the fear and the shaky relief and the what-ifs. Cal stood and held out her hand, feeling calmed and excited at the same time as Rachel took hold of it with her firm grasp.
Chapter Fifteen
Rachel followed Cal down the short hall and into a bedroom decorated in dark shades of blue. She shut the door firmly behind them, barring entrance to Cal’s dogs, and then wrapped her arms around Cal’s waist. She held her tight, pressing every inch of her body against Cal’s. Cal gently nuzzled her neck while Rachel stared out the window behind them. The curtains were open, and the night sky was the kind of dark only found in the country. Rachel hadn’t seen so many stars since leaving Cheney. They seemed so bright and clean, drowning out the smoke and flames still dancing in front of her eyes, opening up her world that had only hours ago shrunk down to a series of burning twelve-by-twelve-foot stalls.
Cal sighed against her neck, and Rachel felt the tingle of goose bumps rising where Cal’s breath touched her. Rachel knew what was happening. Over her years as a police officer, she had seen so many people who had been touched by trauma, by a rush of danger and violence so uncommon in daily life. Heightened emotions, heightened need. The desperate attempt to grab on to another solid human being, to reorient oneself in a world suddenly gone chaotic. She and Cal were turning to each other for comfort and companionship, like other victims turned to the police or loved ones or medical staff. Grounding. Wiping away the negative emotions and replacing them with positive ones.
Cal softly kissed Rachel’s bruise, leaving a slightly damp trail from her shoulder to her elbow. Night air eased the throbbing ache of the injury as it brushed against the moisture from Cal’s tongue. Rachel could let Cal take care of her. Over the past two weeks, she had turned to Cal for help with her team, for friendship when no one else would talk to her, as an ally in a world suddenly devoid of them. Tonight she would take what Cal offered, but without guilt or remorse because she would give as much comfort as she received. And because they both understood the terms of their alliance. They’d come together out of mutual need, and then they’d both head east without regrets or complications. She’d go back home to Cheney, to her adoptive family, and Cal would go even farther, to play with the Virginia-based team.
Rachel lifted her arms when Cal pulled the tank top up her torso. Cal threw it onto the floor and cupped Rachel’s breasts. Her nipples were already so hard they ached, since Cal had been teasing around them during her burn ministrations and her massage. When Cal finally touched them directly, brushing her riding-callused thumbs over the tight peaks, Rachel thought her knees would give out. She backed up until she bumped into the bed, and Cal reached behind her to tug the blue comforter out of the way. Cal pulled the sweatpants off Rachel’s legs and pressed on her good shoulder until Rachel dropped onto the bed. She gave a half sob, half sigh as she slid between the cool sheets, the smooth cotton so comforting to her raw body.
Cal stripped quickly and got into bed beside Rachel. “Do you hurt, Rach?” she whispered against Rachel’s ear in between licks. “Will you tell me if I hurt you?”
“I want you,” Rachel said, shivering with pleasure at the feel of Cal’s tongue tracing her earlobe. “Please don’t worry, don’t hold back.”
Cal shifted so she was straddling Rachel, supporting her weight so only their breasts brushed. She bent her head and kissed Rachel on the mouth, her tongue teasing Rachel’s lips and dipping into her mouth for fleeting moments. Rachel gripped Cal’s arms, trying to pull her closer and deeper, but she could feel the tension in Cal’s strong muscles as she resisted.
“Slow down, cowgirl,” she said. Rachel could feel the puff of breath as Cal laughed against her mouth. “I’m not in a rush.”
Rachel struggled with her need to control the pace, to rush headlong toward the release Cal’s mouth and hands offered. But she was sore and tired, and the lazy circles Cal’s tongue was making around her nipples felt so good. She relaxed her head onto the pillow, loosening her grip on Cal’s biceps and rubbing her hands over the toned muscles.
“Mm, much better,” Cal said as her cool, rough teeth gently bit a nipple.
Rachel arched toward Cal’s mouth, stretching her aching muscles and making a sound deep in her throat that sounded like a purr. Cal came back for another kiss, and this time she didn’t tease. Her tongue moved into Rachel’s mouth in long, deep strokes until Rachel was unable to keep from moaning and pressing her hips toward Cal’s. She felt Cal move so her knees were between Rachel’s, pushing her legs wide. Cal’s hand was on her abdomen, then tangling in Rachel’s wet curls.
Sighing and gasping as Cal’s tongue continued its onslaught, Rachel gave Cal such complete control she surprised herself. Everything she had experienced so far with Cal—from her overt sexual come-on during their first meeting and their polo match, to the fiery kiss they’d shared only days before—had made Rachel expect sex between them to be explosive and fast. But Cal moved so slowly, taking her time as she entered Rachel with one finger, then two. Fighting shy of speed as she found a steady rhythm with tongue and fingers that was intense and oh, so deep. Rachel moved with Cal, relishing the sensations without rushing toward a goal, letting Cal fuck her senseless. Her orgasm hit without warning, shattering her like a river’s ice after a thaw.
Cal continued her relentless stroking as Rachel shuddered beneath her. When Rachel finally grew still, Cal rested her forehead against Rachel’s good shoulder and gently eased out of her before she rolled to one side and pulled Rachel into her arms. She could have brought Rachel to climax much more quickly, giving her a satisfying release of the tension and fear she’d experienced during the night. But Cal hadn’t wanted to hurry. She had savored the connection, the feeling of reaching into the deepest parts of Rachel and wringing out the stress of the past few months. Cal had always felt a sense of smug satisfaction after bringing a partner to orgasm, but she had never been so present. She hadn’t come with Rachel, but she might as well have. The tremors rocking through Rachel’s body had reached to Cal’s core.
Cal lifted her hand to her lips and licked her fingers, inhaling the scent of Rachel. “I wanted to taste you,” she said, brushing her lips against Rachel’s temple. “But I didn’t want to stop kissing you. Next time.”
“Okay, but give me a minute,” Rachel said with a weak laugh. She shivered in Cal’s arms.
“Are you cold?” Cal asked, reaching for the comforter. Rachel stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. Her hand slipped off Cal’s forearm and slid between her thighs. “But I think we have some unfinished business.”
“Not if you’re too sore. I’ll be okay,” Cal said, even though her body was telling her otherwise. She spread her legs as Rachel’s hand stroked her thigh, barely tickling her curls.
“I feel a little weak,” Rachel said. She pushed herself a few inches lower on the bed. “You might have to do most of the heavy lifting, but I get to take care of the good parts. Come here, and that’s an order.”
Rachel tugged on Cal’s leg until she got on her knees, carefully straddling Rachel’s head. Rachel wrapped her arms around Cal’s thighs and used her thumbs to spread her lips wide as Cal clasped the headboard, supporting he
r weight. She looked down, and Rachel smiled at her before raising her head and lapping her tongue through Cal’s folds. Cal tried to smile in return, but she wasn’t sure what expression was on her face. She had been in this position before, had watched another woman tongue her, so why was this so different? She should be feeling pleasure, fun, arousal. Not the intense and unnamable emotions coursing through her as Rachel’s firm tongue entered her.
Cal gasped. She knew she was dripping wet. She shuddered as Rachel explored every millimeter of her. But she was too much in her head to let go. She had turned Rachel down last week because Rachel was more than she could handle. She had thought it would be fun to play with someone so intense—in her job, her relationships, her sexuality. A nice change from the women Cal was used to dating. But she hadn’t anticipated the dangerous side of chasing a complex, intelligent, interesting, strong woman. They were much harder to leave.
At least Rachel would be. Cal heard herself whimper as Rachel’s tongue slid around her clit, not touching it. Her head and her body still seemed disconnected as she responded to Rachel’s touch and, at the same time, felt the gaping emptiness from her eventual inevitable departure.
Rachel didn’t seem to be in any hurry as she licked slowly through Cal’s wetness, occasionally sighing or moaning so Cal felt the vibrations move deep into her belly. She had spent her life avoiding relationships, avoiding anyone like Rachel. She had thought these feelings would make her weak, make her lose focus. But she had played better polo than ever this weekend. As sharp and disciplined as always, even though Rachel had haunted her dreams, her early morning schooling sessions, her daily drills in the practice cage. And she felt anything but weak around Rachel. She wanted to take care of her, protect her. She wanted to kill the bastard who had dared put Rachel and her horses in danger. She felt strong.