by Radclyffe
“How do you plan to evacuate him?” Ali challenged. “You’ll have to have another medic bring in a gurney to move him. That makes two of you in the line of—”
“You forget, Dr. Torveau,” Beau said as she rapidly stabilized the pressure dressing over the gunshot wound in the thigh. With a quick shift of position, she bent over, grasped the victim’s arm, and effortlessly shifted him onto her back and shoulder in a classic fireman’s carry. She grabbed her field kit in her free hand and tossed Ali an insolent and altogether heart-stopping smile. “This is what I do. You should get to cover.”
Ali stepped back and watched Beau quickly transport the victim to the surgical staging area, restock her field kit, and head back out to assess the next victim. She was fierce and focused and so beautiful, Ali’s heart hurt. Turning quickly away, she scratched a few lines on her clipboard, giving Beau the high scores she deserved. When she looked up, Wynter was watching her from across the room, an eyebrow raised in question.
Ali just shook her head. What could she say? How could she possibly explain that the more she felt, the more she feared?
*
“We did good, eh, partners,” Solea crowed, high-fiving Lynn and Beau as the boisterous group of firefighters milled about in the lobby outside the gym after the session ended.
“That was fun,” Lynn agreed.
“So what do you think,” Solea said, including Lynn, but her eyes lasered in on Beau. “Should we all go out and party a little to celebrate? This was the big hurdle. We’re in.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lynn said. “I worked my ass off in there this afternoon. Every time I turned around, someone was looking over my shoulder.” She grinned. “Although I can’t say I minded it all that much when it was her.”
Beau looked where Lynn indicated and saw Ali coming toward them.
“Didn’t know that was your thing,” Solea teased.
“I’m bi-flexible,” Lynn replied, still staring.
Beau didn’t blame Lynn for cruising Ali, but it gave her a twinge in the pit of her stomach to have to stand by and watch. She wanted to claim Ali as hers. Make it real clear she was not available. But Ali hadn’t given her the right to do that. She’d pretty much said she had no rights at all.
Turning toward Solea, Beau said, “So about this party idea of yours—” She stiffened at the touch of a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Ali said.
“Sure.” Beau motioned for Solea and Lynn to go ahead. “I’ll meet you if I can make it. Bernie’s?”
Solea gave Ali an appraising once-over, then flicked her fingers along Beau’s jaw. “Try, okay? We’ll have fun.”
“I hear you,” Beau laughed. Taking a deep breath and schooling her expression to one of casual interest, she turned to face Ali. Keeping her reaction to herself was a challenge. Ali’s eyes smoldered with something Beau couldn’t quite read. Anger, possibly, or…something even more primitive. “Ali?”
“Wynter and her partner are throwing a party tonight for some of our friends. Come with me.”
Beau didn’t need to consider the invitation. She wanted to be with her, no matter what she had to do. “All right. When, where?”
“I promised Wynter I’d help her get set up. Come with us.” She shifted her gaze to where Lynn and Solea were just walking out of the building and took Beau’s hand. “Unless you have other plans.”
“None that won’t keep.”
Ali’s smile twisted. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beau straddled a stool in one corner of the kitchen, watching Ali and Wynter prepare trays of hors d’oeuvres, cutting vegetables, cheeses, and fruit for the upcoming party. They moved together as if they had done it hundreds of times, a lot like she and Jilly used to do when they cooked together. She and Jilly hadn’t really gotten their rhythm back yet, and she hadn’t realized until she’d moved in with Jilly how much she missed the way things used to be before everything changed. She couldn’t imagine life without Jilly, and seeing the way Wynter teased and played with Ali made her glad Ali had someone to love her.
Ali turned from the sink where she had been washing celery stalks and looked at Beau with a question in her eyes, as if she had somehow felt those thoughts across the room.
“I feel a little useless,” Beau said. “I’m pretty good at taking orders if you want to put me to work.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Ali murmured, and Beau’s stomach twisted at the husky note in Ali’s voice.
As enjoyable as it was just looking at her, Beau was dying to touch her. The physical separation after having been inside her was unbearable.
“Two of us in the kitchen are enough,” Wynter said when Ali remained silent. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got everything practically under control, and I could use both of you to disappear for a while so I can clean up.”
“I’m going to help,” Ali said immediately.
Wynter made a little sound of exasperation. “Honestly, Ali, there’s not much left to do, and Pearce will be back from the beer run any time. She can help me finish. Both of you worked hard all afternoon. I spent most of it on the bleachers giving directions. Go relax for a while.”
Beau held her breath, waiting. It was Ali’s show, after all. The last thing she had expected was an invitation to a party from Ali. She hadn’t even been sure there’d be another date.
“I could really use a quick shower,” Ali said. “I brought a change of clothes. Can I use your guest room?”
“You know you don’t have to ask.” Wynter turned to Beau. “Feel free to shower also, if you want to. I mean, after Ali finishes. Or during, whatever.”
“Thank you for the invitation.” Beau grinned when she caught Ali rolling her eyes. She waited until she and Ali were alone in the front hallway before asking, “Would you rather I wait downstairs?”
Ali leaned against the newel post and folded her arms across her chest. “Who was the hot brunette trying to get into your pants?”
Beau glanced down at her cargo pants, pretended to check the zipper. “All buttoned up.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Is that why you invited me to this thing tonight? To keep Solea out of my pants?”
“Is that where she was headed?” Ali said with a bite in her voice.
“No, as a matter of fact,” Beau said. “Not interested.”
“Why not?”
“I already told you why not.”
Ali drew a sharp breath. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was insensitive and—”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” Beau kissed her, needing to silence her words and the rejection that lay just beneath them. Ali’s arms came around her waist and settled on her ass. She slid her tongue over Ali’s, hungry for her taste. When Ali moaned low in her throat, Beau finally broke away, breathing hard. “Forget about yesterday. We understand each other now. It’s all good.”
Ali didn’t look convinced. Her eyes were still stormy, her lips a hard line. “If we’re going to see each other, I don’t want you fucking other women.”
“Exclusive skin privileges, is that it?” Beau laughed, ignoring the jab of pain. Ali cared enough not to want to share her body. Why wasn’t that enough?
“Skin privileges?” Ali’s jaw tightened. “If that’s the way you want to put it. Yes.”
Beau lifted a shoulder. “Sure, as long as it’s a two-way street.”
“Fine,” Ali said. “I’m going to take a shower. You need to stay down here until I’m done.”
“Don’t trust me?” Beau said mockingly.
Ali gripped Beau’s shirt and spun her around, pinning her to the newel post. She pushed her leg between Beau’s thighs and kissed her, hard and hot. She pulled back and dragged her teeth over Beau’s lower lip. “As soon as I’m alone with you, I’m going to finish this, and I don’t want to hurry and I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Beau’s insides were knotted with need, but sh
e managed to keep her voice steady. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Ali disappeared upstairs, and when Beau got her legs under her again, she went back out to the kitchen. Wynter was clearing the table, emptying vegetable remains into a composting pail on the counter and rinsing knives and cutting boards in the sink. Wordlessly, Beau joined in.
“You are pretty handy,” Wynter said.
“Not everyone thinks so,” Beau said, confused and aroused and angry. She had what she wanted—Ali had come after her, staked a claim, said she wanted her. They had mutual exclusive skin rights. But she wasn’t satisfied. She wasn’t even a little bit happy.
“Can I stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong?”
“Sure.” Beau snagged a dishtowel and carefully dried a gleaming chef’s knife.
“I know it’s probably hard, but if you could be patient with her. Give her some time.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Then I’m sorry for mentioning anything,” Wynter said. “I must have misread how miserable she seemed to be all day.”
Beau paused. “I don’t want to make her unhappy.”
“I don’t think you are.”
Frowning, Beau said, “I don’t understand.”
Wynter patted Beau’s shoulder. “I think you’re making her happy. She just needs to get used to it.”
*
Ali toweled dry and pulled on black silk bikinis. She searched through her duffel for the dark silk shirt, black pants, and low-heeled black boots she’d packed that morning. Laying out the clothes, she realized she’d unconsciously packed for a date. What in hell did that say about what was happening to her mind? Who was driving the bus? Certainly not her.
She wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up at Wynter’s with Beau in tow. Some primitive voice in her head had screamed in protest when she’d seen the brunette practically crawling into Beau’s lap, and now here they were. Well, she needed to get downstairs and do her part for the party. At least she should be safe from her own unpredictable impulses while tending to social niceties. She hoped.
She slipped into her shirt and paused while buttoning it at the sound of a knock on the guest room door. Crossing the room, she cracked the door an inch and saw Beau standing outside.
“Sorry,” Beau said. “I wasn’t sure if you were done yet.” She hefted her own bag. “Thought I’d grab a quick shower too.”
Ali hesitated, then opened the door and stepped back. “Come on in. The bathroom’s available.”
“Thanks.” Beau closed the door behind her.
Beau’s eyes traveled over her and Ali’s nipples puckered. Ali caught the flare of arousal in Beau’s eyes before Beau blushed and looked away. Suddenly the struggle to hold back seemed too much. She was tired, she was confused, she was still aggravated at the thought of the woman who had been so blatantly trying to seduce Beau, and she couldn’t remember right at that moment exactly why she was resisting what every instinct clamored for her to do.
“We’re alone now,” Ali said softly, advancing on Beau. When Beau retreated until her back was against the door, Ali followed, settling her breasts and stomach and thighs into Beau. She cradled Beau’s breast, squeezed, and Beau’s head banged against the door.
Beau groaned and Ali kissed her. Beau’s duffel dropped to the floor with a thud and she cupped Ali’s ass, her fingertips sliding under the edges of her silk bikinis to graze over her skin. Ali rolled her hips into Beau’s crotch, teasing at Beau’s tongue with the tip of hers. When Beau tried to tease hers in return, skating her tongue over the inside of Ali’s lip, Ali pulled back until a breath separated them.
“Remember what I warned would happen if you came upstairs?” Ali whispered.
“Oh yeah,” Beau said, breathing heavily. “Something about finishing?”
“I’m planning to keep my promise.”
Beau’s smile flickered. “Good.”
“I’ll need you to be quiet.”
“I’ll be anything you want.”
Ali slipped her hand down and gripped between Beau’s legs. “You say that now.”
“Jesus.” Beau’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head. “I can’t take much more waiting. I’ve been watching you all day and I’ve been hot for you since yesterday.”
“What happened?” Ali murmured, trailing her tongue down Beau’s throat. “You didn’t take the edge off last night? Or this morning?”
“Couldn’t. Thought about it, but—” Beau jerked when Ali nipped at her neck. “Wasn’t what I wanted.”
“What do you want? Huh?”
“Your mouth.” Beau gasped, her head rocking slowly from side to side. “I want to come in your mouth.”
Ali sucked in a breath, Beau’s words hitting like a sledgehammer in the pit of her stomach. Sliding to her knees, she ripped open Beau’s pants and yanked them down her legs. She rubbed her palms over the hard muscles in Beau’s thighs, loving the way Beau twitched at her touch.
Beau braced one hand against the door for support and used the other to open herself to Ali. “I need you.”
Beau’s unguarded vulnerability wrenched Ali’s heart. She brushed her mouth over Beau’s clitoris. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Please, Ali. Oh.”
Gently, Ali took her between her lips, swirling her tongue tenderly over the satin hard prominence. The trembling in Beau’s legs spread upward to her torso, and she shivered as if she were freezing, but sweat glistened on the smooth plain of her abdomen.
“Wait,” Beau pleaded. “I don’t want to come right away. Don’t make me.”
Ali laughed softly, drawing back a fraction. “I don’t think I have anything to say about it. You’re about to explode, sweetheart.”
Beau laced her fingers through Ali’s hair, guiding her mouth back onto her. “Go slow. Just go slow so I can hold on. It’s so good.”
“Anything you need,” Ali murmured. She kissed her lightly, stroked her fleetingly, toyed at her opening with her fingertips, easing away when Beau’s breathing grew ragged and her hips lurched erratically. She pressed her palm to Beau’s stomach, gauging how close she was by the tightening of her muscles. Each time Beau started to peak, she stopped until Beau slipped down from the crest, over and over until Beau’s moans were continuous and her clitoris never softened.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to come soon no matter what I do.”
“I know,” Beau groaned. “I can’t help it.”
Ali laughed softly. “Baby, I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to go off in my mouth. Come hard in my mouth.”
Beau clasped the back of Ali’s neck and lifted into her mouth, pressing her clitoris between her lips. “Suck it and I will.”
Need twisted Ali’s insides into an aching fist. She pulled on Beau’s clitoris with her mouth and thrust deep inside her. Beau came instantly, her strangled cry igniting a flame between Ali’s legs. She slid her fingers into her bikinis to massage herself, barely managing three firm strokes before she detonated. Crying out around Beau’s slowly pulsing clitoris, she flooded her fingers in a blinding orgasm.
Beau came back to reality one exquisite sensation at a time—first to the awareness of Ali’s cheek pressed against her stomach, then Ali’s silken hair rubbing between her fingers, and finally to Ali’s warm breath wafting over the scar on her abdomen. Every so often Ali twitched and moaned, a soft, satisfied sound.
The scar didn’t hurt, even with Ali’s cheek pressing into it, but her heart did. She looked down at Ali’s unguarded face, at her fragile lids fluttering rapidly and her flushed, swollen lips glistening with her own passion. She loved her. The feeling was so intense it bordered on pain. She stroked Ali’s cheek and watched Ali’s mouth curve up into a sleepy smile.
I love you.
“I have to go,” Beau said, gently easing free of Ali’s grasp.
Ali rocked back on her heels, her eyes opening, confusion eclipsing the pleasure on her face. “What? Why?”
“I j
ust realized something.” Beau leaned down to grip her pants. She yanked them up, wincing at the pressure against her still sensitive sex. She tugged up the zipper and buttoned the fly, her hands trembling.
“Beau, what’s going on?” Ali stood up and gripped Beau’s shirt. “Beau?”
“Sex with you is fabulous,” Beau said.
Ali’s brows rose. “Ditto.”
Beau smiled sadly and carefully removed Ali’s hand. “But it’s not enough, Ali. Not anymore, not with you.”
Ali reeled, seized by unfamiliar panic. “Beau—”
“It’s okay.” Beau brushed a kiss over her mouth. “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault I fell in love with you.”
“Can’t we just—”
“No,” Beau said as she opened the door. “I can’t.” She grasped her bag, slipped out into the hall. “All or nothing, Ali. You decide.”
The door closed and she was gone.
Ali rested her head against the door and didn’t even try to hold back the tears. “Goddamn it, Beau. You’re breaking my heart.”
Chapter Thirty
Ali walked into the kitchen just in time to hear Pearce say in an aggravated voice, “Wynter, damn it, sit down and stop arguing.”
“I don’t need to sit down.”
“Here’s the last of it,” Ali said, placing a tray filled with empty bottles and glasses on the counter. She quickly rinsed her hands, dried them on an already damp dish towel, and hurried to escape. “I’ll see you Monday, Wynter.”
“Hold on a minute,” Wynter said. “Pearce, I’ll sit here with my feet up. You go away.”
Pearce ignored Wynter, her expression morphing from aggravated to frazzled as she turned to Ali. “Her ankles are swollen. She’s been on her feet too much today. Make sure she stays off them.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Wynter bitched.
“Let me see your legs,” Ali said, skirting around the table and kneeling down by Wynter’s chair.