by Heidi Lowe
“What was that for?” Layke asked, still breathless from the unexpected kiss.
“Hello's so commonplace. I thought it would make a nice change.”
Layke smiled coyly. “It did.” She grabbed her bag and made her way inside. The inside, she was disappointed to see, was no better than the outside. “So, this is where you're staying?” She tried to sound positive, but it was hard to put a positive spin on a crummy, dilapidated motel room, where she would be spending the next few days.
Willa laughed, taking her in her arms. “It's awful, isn't it?”
“Yes!” Layke chuckled. “Why here?”
“Would you think to look for me here?”
“I wouldn't think to look for anyone here. Maybe rats, cockroaches...”
Willa kissed her. “No one will disturb us here. Plus, they don't need I.D., and they don't use CCTV. It will be like we were never here.”
“Smart,” Layke conceded.
“See, I'm not just a pretty face.”
No, she was more than a pretty face, she was, quite frankly, a beautiful one. Even now, standing in her arms, Layke couldn't believe this was all real. And what did she, Layke, have that the thousands of beautiful women across Miami didn't? Willa was surrounded by attractive women all the time, many of whom worked in her club, and many of whom knew a lot more about pleasing her than Layke did.
“Why me?” The question was supposed to be an extension of her inner thoughts, but before she knew it the words had escaped her lips, and Willa was looking at her as if she were crazy.
“Why you what?” She still had her hands on Layke's waist, and didn't seem to want to let go.
“We're so wrong for each other. Wouldn't it be easier for you to be with someone more... available?”
“You're here aren't you? I'd say you're pretty available.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don't.”
Layke became flustered. “I mean someone with less baggage, less risk.”
“I don't want someone with less baggage or less risk.” Willa pecked her gently on the lips, their noses brushing. “I want Layke Owen, the sexy ginger detective with the adorable little freckles across her nose, and the fiery temper to match her hair. And do you know where I want her?” Willa took both her hands and led her to the bed, where she sat her down. “I want her right here, right now, with nothing on but me.”
When Layke breathed, it was rattly and full of nerves. The moment of truth had finally arrived. Well, it had arrived three times, but it was always the beginning that terrified her. Removing her clothes, which Willa helped her with, and did so gently, was the easy part; being naked in front of Willa came naturally. But it was her crippling insecurity about her lack of experience with women that made her tremble. Thus far she'd had it easy, lying back and letting Willa dominate her in every way. She'd done the same with her handful of boyfriends. Though with them she'd never felt compelled to put in the effort; with Willa, she wanted nothing more than to please her, to do all of the things she'd read about, to put all of the directions, the written and visual instructions, to the test. She'd watched porn for this! There was no way she would lie back and let Willa do all the work.
Suddenly she didn't care about the unsightly room. The aching between her legs could no longer be ignored. She helped Willa out of her clothes, taking her time so as not to hurt her arm. The stitches were healing nicely. And when Willa stood naked in front of her, it was the most delightful sight she'd ever seen. Her body against the backdrop of such an ugly room was incongruous. She brought her face forward, pressed light kisses to Willa's stomach as Willa stroked her head.
“I want to kiss you everywhere,” Layke whispered, and pulled her onto the bed. “Everywhere,” she reiterated.
Willa's eyes expanded in alarm, seeing the will in Layke's face. “Does that mean what I think it means?” The hint of amusement in her voice didn't go unnoticed by Layke.
“What sort of lover would I be if I didn't reciprocate?” She tried her hardest to sound confident and seductive, but she was so far out of her depth it made her cringe when she heard her own voice.
“You don't have to do that. I'm more than happy to take the lead.”
“I want to do it,” Layke said vehemently.
Willa laughed. “You know it's not like kissing on the lips, don't you?”
“Of course I do.” She looked away, abashed, cheeks rosy, and when she spoke again her voice was hushed. “I looked it up online a few times. There were diagrams and things...”
Willa's cackle rang through the room. Well, that wasn't the reaction Layke had been expecting; there was nothing sexy about being laughed at.
“You did your research online? What did you use, Wikipedia?” Willa howled.
“Don't laugh at me,” Layke said, her blush now reaching her neck and the top of her chest. With no clothes on to hide it, her shame was on full display.
“Oh, baby, I'm sorry.” Willa's laughter died away, mostly, though a smile and tears remained. “You're so adorable. I admire your determination.” She put her arms around Layke's naked body, kissed her face.
“I just want to be good at it,” Layke shrugged modestly. “I want to be good for you.”
“You want to know the trick to doing a good job? The desire. So you're already there. And it doesn't matter how many times you've done it, or haven't, it's still going to feel great because you're the one doing it to me.”
Skill was important, and Layke knew that. But she found herself believing Willa's words, even being soothed by them. They certainly took away some of the pressure.
“Just take your time. We've got lots of it,” Willa added, and they kissed.
The kiss was the type of heated, passionate kiss that usually preceded what they were working up to. And soon Layke's hands were exploring humps and mounds, her fingers teasing Willa's nipples in turn, before sinking into the folds between her crotch, becoming enveloped in the moisture of Willa's sex. The sensation wasn't novel to her; up until then, however, she'd only had her own sex as a reference. Feeling another woman's excitement, knowing that she had caused it, made her delirious.
She felt around blindly, getting acquainted with the area, sought out the small but powerful nub that she would soon devour, hopefully bringing her lover to climax. It felt different to her own, but not much. She knew what she liked; maybe Willa would respond to the same things.
Armed with that hope and faith, she drove Willa back against the pillow, still lip-locked with her. When she finally drew her lips away, leaving Willa's wet and bruised, she kissed a trail from her neck right down to her chest. She tossed her locks out of the way, before taking one big, juicy nipple in her mouth. Willa bucked slightly beneath her as her suction grew stronger, and again when Layke's tongue poked and stroked with the type of skill of a seasoned nipple-licker.
It felt great on her tongue, and she wasted no time moving on to the next one. Willa's soft moans and writhing body spurred her on, told her she was doing a good job. Gave her the courage she needed to up the stakes and head a little farther south. Dragging her mouth away from the teats was more difficult than she'd anticipated – she could have stayed playing with and teasing those mounds all afternoon. But there were more pressing matters to attend to.
She remained gentle in her touches, even to the last as she separated Willa's legs to better accommodate herself. She looked up one final time, caught Willa's eye, then dove in. Everything she'd learned, read about, and watched she incorporated into her routine. At least, she tried to. But she soon discovered that the theory was far different in practice. The texture was unusual to her at first contact; but she quickly got over that, owing mostly to the sweet-tasting sap. She'd never imagined that any part of the body could taste this good; so good that it felt more like she'd gone out for dessert as opposed to gone down on her lover. Within a couple of minutes she'd found her feet, letting her tongue loose, snaking across the valleys of Willa's sex, devouring
her greedily.
“Ahh, yeah,” Willa moaned, bucking and writhing more fiercely.
Layke was on a roll. Her tongue became a spear, stabbing at the hard bean, then caressing it with gentle strokes, and alternating between the two acts. From the strangled murmurs and the flailing Willa was doing, Layke knew she was on to a winning combination.
“Oh, I'm there, I'm there,” Willa cried out, startling Layke.
“What, already?” Layke asked against her sex. Unfortunately, the vibration seemed to heighten the sensation, and before long she felt Willa tremble as the orgasm ripped through her.
Layke peered up at a spent Willa, her mouth shimmering with her lover's nectar. “I didn't want you to... get there so quickly,” she said, almost whining.
Willa laughed, the sex having made her voice croaky and winded. “Well maybe you should have thought about that before you attacked my vagina!”
“Did I do it wrong?” Layke questioned, real concern creasing her brow. She hadn't expected it to be over so soon; in fact, she hadn't expected to bring Willa to climax at all, not on her first try.
Willa laughed again and sat up, pulling Layke close. “No, you did everything right, too right actually. I'm usually good at holding on. Your tongue's like Wonder Woman's or something.” She kissed her. “Mmm, I taste pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you kidding? You taste great. I had an epiphany down there. I thought, now I know why people love doing this.” Not only was the taste great, being that close to a woman, being that in control of whether she came or didn't, made her feel formidable. It was also therapeutic (though she felt silly confessing that and kept it to herself).
“Spoken like a true lady-lover. You'll be a seasoned vet in no time.”
They made love more times that day than Layke and Dustin had in one year, and even after hours of going at it, even with joints, limbs and muscles aching and tired, Layke still couldn't get enough of her new lover. Her appetite for Willa left her no appetite for anything else, that included food, or leaving the comfort of the bed. Suddenly the room wasn't so ugly – it had a quaint, sort of homely feel and quality to it under the right light. The bed squeaked a bit, but listening to it go in time with them only increased their drive. Sleep Treats may have been the name of the motel, but no one in room 35 got much sleep that night.
“What's your favorite pastime?” Layke asked. The new day had crept in on them during their marathon sex session, though it was still very early in the morning. Neither of them had bothered to put their clothes back on. They sat facing each other, Layke's legs on either side of Willa's waist, Willa's hands gripping her thighs. They'd been asking each other random questions for ten minutes, shouting out whatever came to mind in a bid to learn more about each other.
“Making love to you,” Willa said. “Easy.”
Layke laughed. “Aside from that?”
“Traveling, I guess. You?”
“Being a cop.”
“That's your favorite thing?” Willa asked incredulously. “Layke Owen, you need to get out more.”
“Says the woman who thinks that sex with an inexperienced pseudo-lesbian slash semi-confused beginner is her favorite thing to do!”
“Hey, watch it.” Willa slid her forward, both of them giggling, and smashed her lips to Layke's. “Maybe inexperienced pseudo-lesbians are my thing.” When the kiss ended, she looked thoughtfully at Layke. “Is that what you are, a pseudo-lesbian?”
“I don't know what I am,” Layke said. “I know that my fiance's a man, and I haven't been attracted to him in years. Sexually attracted to him, never. And I know that I'm sitting here with you, a woman, naked, having had the best sex of my life. I know that this motel is a total dive, but when I have to leave in a few days I won't want to go back to my old life. That's what I know.”
“Maybe we should run away together,” Willa said, grinning. “We could join the circus. Be tightrope walkers, wear those really tiny skirts, make the audience go wild.”
“I wouldn't last five minutes on the run, or on a tightrope,” Layke giggled. “And I think I'd bore you to tears within a week.”
“You wouldn't.” She leaned forward and kissed her again. “So am I really the first woman you've fallen for?”
“Pretty much. At least the first woman I've wanted to... be with. And now it's like I can't think about anything else. I don't know what's wrong with me.”
“I'll tell you what it is: you're not pseudo-anything. Welcome to the club.”
Layke didn't know how to respond to that. Accepting the label of lesbian was so final, there was no going back. She still wasn't sure how she felt, if Willa was the only one, or if she was the first of possibly many. Either way, she didn't think it wise to go around calling herself something she wasn't sure she was – that could have caused all sorts of problems.
“I've known I was gay since the age of five,” Willa continued. “Even back then I knew men weren't for me, that they couldn't cut it. Women just seemed more interesting. I didn't think then that they were even an option for me, especially with the dad I had.”
“He didn't approve?”
“Hell no he didn't approve! Said it was my one flaw, that I was perfect but for what he called 'my unnatural proclivities'. For the most part he ignored it, pretended his little baby girl didn't like women.”
“That's awful.” And your father was an ass, in every sense of the word, Layke thought but didn't say. Maurice di Blasio was a class A piece of crap, a scourge on the city, on the earth. It didn't surprise her that he'd treated his daughter's sexuality with such scorn. But if Willa wasn't going to insult him, what right did Layke have? “So naturally he puts you in charge of a strip club.”
Willa laughed. “Can't say the old dragon didn't have a sense of humor.”
“What about the rest of your family? How did they take it?”
“With the exception of Trent, my brothers were fine with it. I mean, what's being gay to a family of criminals, right?”
“You being here, out of town, won't they have something to say about that?” Layke sensed she was stepping into forbidden territory, mentioning work. Her curious nature got the better of her; the detective in her never lay dormant for long. This whole arrangement that the family had, it fascinated her. Even though Willa hadn't confirmed that she was running the show, Layke didn't need her to, it was obvious.
“Everyone needs a break. Besides, technically I'm still recuperating.”
Layke raised an eyebrow. “Recuperating? So that's what this is? Because I thought we were doing the nasty all day and night. I didn't see much recuperating going on.”
“Sex makes me heal faster.” Her laugh was smoky as she peppered kisses across Layke's collarbone, neck and jaw. “Is it crazy that I still want you, after everything we just did?”
Layke giggled, Willa's kisses tickling her neck. “I have the same problem. But we really should get to sleep now. I'm pretty sure this isn't healthy.”
They fell asleep five minutes later, in each other's arms, knackered from sex.
EIGHTEEN
Willa pulled out her cell phone from one of the compartments in her suitcase. She switched it on for the second time in three days, her back to the bathroom door. The sound of a running shower filtered through, along with some very sweet humming that made her smile to herself. Three whole days with almost no contact from the outside world. That had been the plan – switching off her phone, switching off her responsibilities, and letting her minions take care of business. As soon as Layke arrived, they both became unavailable to the many people who wanted to know where they were. They'd been the nicest, most relaxing three days she'd had in a long time, without pretense, and for that she was grateful.
The shower continued to run while the message came through from Guy. It was a simple message, a reply to one she'd sent four hours previously. And then she was done. She switched off the phone again and stashed it away once more. Tucked away deep in another compartment was
a glass bottle, no bigger or thicker than a thumb, its contents clear. She threw a glance over her shoulder to verify that she was still alone, despite still hearing the shower blasting. Then she hurried over to the table, on which sat two empty plastic glasses and a half-empty bottle of wine. She filled the glasses, adding a little something extra in one – the contents of the glass bottle. She didn't bother to swish it around; there was no point, it was tasteless.
The shower stopped running. She quickly took her own glass and sat down, stealthily dropping the miniature bottle back into her suitcase, leaving the other glass of wine on the table, awaiting Layke.
“The only thing missing from that shower was you,” she said, smiling at the doorway, dripping wet, a towel wrapped around her body, another piled on her head.
“I'll join you on the next one, I promise. Your wine's on the table.” She sipped at her own and gave the best performance of her life, acting like nothing was amiss.
“Great.” Layke dried herself while taking little sips of her drink.
It took fifteen minutes for the drug to take effect, for Layke to start yawning, for her eyes to grow heavy. And once Willa saw this, she gave the second best performance of her life. She yawned and stretched. “That wine has knocked me out. What the hell is that stuff made of?” She laughed innocently.
“Me too.”
They settled into bed, Willa's arms wrapped protectively around Layke's – a position they were both accustomed to now. Within a couple of minutes she heard the steady sounds of a sleeping Layke. She waited another couple of minutes, to be sure that her lover slipped deeper into sleep, before she climbed out of the bed. She tugged on her jeans and the first T-shirt she yanked from her suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, having walked all the way, she was sitting on a bench in the parking lot of a casino a mile away from the motel.
“Why did you want to meet me here?” was the first thing Guy asked when he stepped out of his car, his brow furrowed. He peered around at his surroundings, and frowned deeper. “You drove all the way out here to go to some rundown casino in the middle of nowhere? We've got plenty back home.”