by Radclyffe
Peg was watching her eyes, and didn’t ask superfluous to what. As if measuring the moment, as if deciding for or against the distraction of wine, Peg tapped her fingers on the table. She waved the waiter away.
Almost immediately someone in a gray starched colonial-style skirt brought a basket of hot breads, sweet and yeasty-smelling. Sounds became hushed. Peg’s manicured hands broke open a coarse piece of cornbread. The crumbs fell to her plate. She slid butter across the opening. Paris fondled the baking powder biscuits, pulled a hot cinnamon bun from the basket. Peg bit into her golden bread, licked her lips of butter and crumbs. Paris’s roll was sticky, crunchy with bits of nuts, full of hot cinnamon and sugar. She offered Peg a bite. Peg held the cornbread out to Paris. They leaned across the table, eyes locked, and broke pieces off with their lips.
“Sweet,” Paris said, closing her eyes. It tasted like the yellow afternoon.
“Sweeter,” Peg said, pulling a stray nut from her lower lip with her tongue.
She ran her eyes down Peg’s tie again, back up to her shining eyes, her perfect hair. Just then, she would have sold state secrets to get her hands in that hair.
Even without wine dinner got fuzzy. It seemed as if they went from bread directly to the chilly parking lot. The bakery and gift shop were open late for the weekend. Peg got them a batch of the famous peanut butter cookies. She took Peg’s arm this time and huddled against her, shivering.
“Cold?” Peg asked.
She squeezed tighter against her. “No.” Peg’s hand encircled her upper arm.
They walked up the dark country lane that led to their motel, the white bakery box that Peg carried by its string glowing as it swung back and forth. Paris ignored the ache in her knee. This was no time for pain.
“Crickets,” Peg said.
“Tree frogs,” she answered.
Their footsteps were almost the only other sound. Still-leafless elm trees met over their heads, a branch creaking now and then in a breeze. She wanted the lane never to end. Peg stopped, guided her by the shoulder until they faced each other. Paris pressed her cheek to the front of Peg’s cushioned vest. The top of her head met Peg’s jaw. Her fingertips tingled with want.
Oh, goddess. Peg pulled her face up with two soft fingers and their mouths met, open, hot, wet, breath ragged, then met again, until Peg’s hand, wide open against her back, led her forward again. They walked faster.
“What are we doing?” Peg cried, when they got inside. The blood rushing through Paris’s body all but drowned out the words.
She had Peg’s tie in her hands, looking her full in those commanding, desiring eyes. She pulled at the tie, stroked it and separated the two ends. Kissed the valley of Peg’s breasts, spread the tie farther apart, wanting Peg’s legs spread soon. She twined the tie around her hands, opened buttons. Peg stopped her, began to loosen the plum strands.
“No!” She wanted the undoing of her tie for herself. She pushed Peg to the bed, pulled off her vest, undid the buttons of her collar, pulled the shirt out from under her tie and off along with the vest. Her vision had become unfocused, but she made out Peg’s breast-hugging short-sleeved undershirt. She pulled it over the tie. “Now,” she said and began easing the knot down with one hand, kissing Peg’s neck as she did.
“You’ve still got your sweater on,” Peg said. “Is it scratchy?” Peg rubbed her bare breasts against the sweater and the strawberry nipples rose.
Paris brushed them with her lips as she slid the tie apart. At its tip, she freed the other end. “There,” she said, “you’re open.” She pushed Peg, bare to the waist, down flatter on the bed and stood looking at her.
“Mmm,” she said, admiring. “Who would have thought?” She hefted Peg’s breasts in her hands. “So much, so soft, the cream in those Yankee pewter pitchers.” She pinched the nipples, each one, with her lips. “Strawberries and cream.” Peg reached for her. “No.” Paris stepped back, undressed quickly, lay Peg down once more, lay on top of her, kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders, those breasts again, kissed down to her belt line.
“Paris,” Peg said, trying to rise, that tender amused look in her eyes, a slight smiling curve to her lips, her hands reaching.
“Hey,” Paris said, pushing her down, pushing her again, a third time, unbuckling her belt as she did, unzipping her slacks, pulling them off with her underwear. “Mmm,” she crooned at the glorious sight of her and parted her legs like the two ends of her tie.
“This doesn’t work for me,” Peg said, her voice tight, but her telltale breathing a pant. One hand kneaded Paris’s shoulder, the other had a fistful of her hair. “I need to make love to you first.”
That lisp was a turn-on. “You’re gorgeous,” she told Peg and plunged to the knot in the tie of her legs with her mouth. “Butch,” was the last thing she said before she took a faintly cinnamon mouthful of her. The word was a challenge.
THE CALL
Cheryl Dragon
I hated when FBI phone numbers showed up on my cell phone. Locking the back door to my nail salon, I debated answering. It wasn’t my ex. Tess still had her own ringtone.
“Sophie’s Nails.”
“It’s Jack.” Jack was a nice middle-aged FBI agent who’d been Tess’s partner for longer than the year I’d dated her. He had two ex-wives and knew what the job did to relationships.
“What’s up?” Tess probably wanted the stuff she left behind and made Jack do her dirty work.
“Tess’s been shot. I know you two split up, but I thought you’d want to know,” he said quickly.
My stomach turned as the info processed. This was my nightmare. The very reason I couldn’t be with Tess. Instead of panicking, my brain gave up control to my heart. “What hospital?”
“St. Luke’s. Don’t worry, it’s just a—”
No time for details. “Thanks.” I ended the call, jumped in my car and drove the few blocks to St. Luke’s in record time.
Stalking past the admissions desk, I headed for the group of suits. Jack waved off security and pointed me to the curtain without a word. No doc or nurse could convince me Tess was okay until I saw her myself. My heart pounded as I ducked around the curtain.
Tess was attempting to sign papers with her left hand. Her slim right hand was bandaged from wrist to painted nails. Her dark brown hair done in a blunt bob was untouched by the trauma, but her face looked pale. The blood all over her clothes made my eyes well up but I forced back the tears. Obviously Tess’s life wasn’t in danger now. “What happened?”
“Hell. Jack, you’re so dead,” she said loudly. “I told him not to call you.”
“Which means you knew he would and probably already had.” I looked around the small area. Tess’s bulletproof vest with bullets still in it spoke volumes. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. The vest did its job. Only one sliced my hand. No broken bones.” Tess’s pale brown eyes searched everywhere but me.
She was still hurting, and I couldn’t change my role as the bitch in the breakup. Her job meant potentially getting hurt every day, and eventually the anxiety had been too much for me. When we first met, the badge and gun had been a big turn-on. They still were, but they also meant danger. My biggest danger at work was nail fungus or being double-booked with clients.
The doctor stepped in before I could think of something to say.
“You’re ready to go. Here are the painkiller and antibiotic prescriptions. In a few days, see your doctor to recheck that hand. When the swelling has gone down, it’ll need to be rewrapped. The nurse can find you a scrub top to wear home.”
Tess just nodded and took the papers as the doctor left.
Talk about trauma. The fact that Tess was only in her bra and her suit pants had gone over my head. So I wasn’t a medical person—I could still see the damage. I studied Tess’s torso and saw three red spots, two on her ribs and one at the edge of her breast where it peeked out of the bra.
“Did you get him?” I asked.
�
�Three shots to the chest. He’s going to the morgue and I’m going home.” Tess slid off the bed with a wince.
“Alone with that hand? No, you’re not.” I tugged off my thin cardigan. “Wear this.”
“Soph, I don’t want your pity or your sweater. This is my job and it’s not going to change. I’m sorry it’s hard on you, but I didn’t call you. I understand you didn’t want to deal with this stuff and you don’t have to. I never asked you to change, but I’m not going to change, either. Because if I did, I’d resent you for it later. Do me a favor and please go. I can take care of myself.”
Every word she said was true. Tess had a way of cutting through crap to the heart of every matter, and it stung. We weren’t over each other. In a couple weeks, how could we be? Arguing with her served no purpose. “Nice try.” I tugged the lime green sweater over her good arm and gently eased it over her bad hand. “You can’t dress or undress yourself with that hand.”
“Where’s my purse?” She looked around and found the gray shoulder bag by her blazer. With Tess, that was as close to admitting she needed help as she got. Her sister lived an hour away, and that was her only other option.
I grabbed the blazer and tried not to look at her cut-up blouse soaked with blood. I fought the tears. Her hand had to be really messed up to bleed that much, I thought as she stood next to me ready to argue. But even if the damage to her hand was bad, she was alive.
* * *
An hour later we were in my apartment with prescriptions filled and a pizza half-eaten on the table. It felt like old times except for the nagging tension.
“We could’ve gotten Chinese instead.” Tess fidgeted with her crust.
“Yeah, chopsticks with your left hand. That’d be a show. You need to eat before you take your pills or you’ll get nauseated. Let’s see if you can even open them.” I nodded to the bottles.
Tess glanced at her swollen hand and then glared at me. “I don’t need any pills.”
“Oh no, don’t do that. It’s stupid to be that stubborn.” I grabbed the bottle of antibiotics and set one out on the table. “Take it. The last thing you need is an infection.”
A practical woman, she took the medicine. “You don’t need to baby me. I know you want to be friends, Sophie, but it’s too soon for me. I’m not there yet, okay?”
I looked at her, tired and hurting in my sweater, and knew we’d never manage to be just friends. One year of intense passion and now I knew I’d never not want her. I couldn’t stop loving her no matter how much I hated her job. My resolve broke. Easing out of my chair, I straddled her lap and undid the tiny buttons to push back the sweater.
Tess looked away. “I’m not asking for random sex. My hand will be fine in a day or two. When the swelling is down, I’ll be out of your hair. I appreciate the help, I do.”
“This has nothing to do with your hand.” I traced the darkening spots where the bullets hit her vest. “I realized something today when Jack called.”
She relaxed slightly as I touched her, but didn’t lean into me. Finally I gave in and kissed her softly, then pressed my forehead to hers. “Before I thought if I ever got that call—if you were hurt or in the hospital or worse—I’d lose it. But I didn’t go all hysterical or curl up in a corner terrified like I thought I would. All those nights we were dating, I dreaded that call. But when it came, I knew exactly what I needed to do. Better yet, I did it.”
Tess stared me straight in the eye for the first time that day. “You never give yourself enough credit. You’re so strong, Soph.”
“I grew up in the suburbs. Anyone picked on me, my big brother beat the crap out of them. This is all new for me. I love you so much, but the fear of getting that call paralyzed me every day. I can’t lose you.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I asked the question. “Do you really still love me?”
Her answer came in a kiss as her good hand tangled in my hair. Relief jolted me as I kissed her back. We were such contrasts that somehow it worked. Tess’s tight slender body had lean muscle all over while I had a curvaceous body. I pressed tightly to her and wrapped my arms around her neck.
“Is this real or am I in a coma?” she whispered.
Gently I took her injured hand and kissed the exposed fingertips. They shook and I stopped. “It’s real. Please take a pain pill. You need to rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Tess shook her head. “Having you back is all I need. Make me forget about the pain.” She kissed down my neck and over my ample cleavage.
I couldn’t say no to her. I never could. I needed to be naked with Tess. “In bed with you on your back and your hand propped up out of the way.”
With her good hand, Tess slid under my tank top and up my back to release my bra. “In bed on my back? Since when are you so traditional?” Then she pulled the front of my tank and bra down to expose my breasts.
Her warm breath replaced the cool air and my entire body flushed with anticipation. “Once your hand is better, we’ll make up for all the lost time any way you want.”
“Deal.” She tongued over my nipples until I arched to her.
“Bed.” I grabbed her pills and a bottle of water and set them on the nightstand in the bedroom before I pulled off my top and shimmied out of my jeans and thong.
Tess watched with a strange smile.
“What?” I demanded.
She shrugged as she stood next to the bed. “We’re really back together? Just like that.”
I began undressing her with impatient fingers. “Yep. You should thank Jack.”
“I should’ve gotten shot a few weeks ago and we’d have been fine.” She stepped out of her slacks and panties.
I thought about her odd take on our breakup, and it touched me. “I’d rather there was no you getting shot in this picture. You could be a lawyer or have some nice, safe desk job. We needed to be apart for me to see that’s not you. Not even for me. Besides, I don’t think we’d appreciate what we have with each other as much if we hadn’t broken up. I’ve missed you so much it hurt.”
I gently pushed her on her back on the bed. Putting a pillow in place, I propped her bandaged hand.
“This is very organized sex.” She pinched my hip.
I wagged a French-manicured nail at her. “You behave or I’ll use your own handcuffs on you. Your wrist isn’t injured, so I can do it.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She kissed my hand.
“No, but this time it’ll really hurt when you pull at them.” I slid my knee between her legs and found her bare pussy wet and ready for me as ever. Was she wet when she saw me in the ER? In the car on the ride home? Eating pizza? We had a strong effect on each other and I knew how rare it was. How lucky we were.
She arched her back and stared at me. “Don’t be a tease.”
Pressing my body to hers, I kissed her with a slow possessiveness, deeper and deeper as her legs tangled with mine. I kissed a path down her body, teasing both hard nipples and gently caressing each bruise. When I nipped at her hip, Tess groaned and opened her legs wide. I loved being wrapped up with her. As I tongued the perimeter of her pussy, she twisted her body from side to side.
“Behave.” I held on to her thighs. Tess didn’t like being passive. She normally liked to be in charge. I loved it, but I loved taking care of her too. In a week or so she’d be back to wearing a strap-on and bending me over the sofa. “Tonight I get to be on top.”
Before she could think of an alternative, I curled my tongue around her clit and squeezed, swirling as her hips lifted to me. I’d missed her unique taste as much as the sound of her moans. She was primed faster than ever before, but I was right there with her.
I wasn’t ready for her to come yet and slid my tongue lower into her tempting inner folds. Sucking them into my mouth, I tugged, pressing the hot flesh between my lips. Her hips pushed down and then up. I could do this all night and she’d never come. The fact that I knew exactly how to get her off made me even wetter.
&nb
sp; “Sophie, please! Come up here. I want you.”
I snaked my tongue around her clit and squeezed in time with her pulse. Then I slipped my thumb into her wet hole and fucked her. She came on me within seconds, her body shaking as she called out. I kept one eye on her injured hand, and it stayed safely on the pillow. I licked Tess’s pussy until her good hand dug into my hair and pulled me up.
I trailed my tongue up her flat stomach and between her breasts until she kissed me hard. She held me tight and seemed to urge me up farther. I moved up to let her reach my breasts.
Her lips and teeth showed me no mercy as she sucked and nipped. I pressed in, wanting more as I let my pussy rub her body. Tess’s good hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass before dipping down to my pussy.
I shifted back and forth for attention in both spots, but I still needed more. Easing back, I ground my pussy to hers. The pressure on my clit mixed with her fingers playing inside me was exactly what I needed.
“I want to taste you, sit on my face,” Tess pleaded.
“Not tonight.” I groaned against her neck. There was no way to do that without risking her hand. “You need to heal.”
“You’re all I need.” She pushed her fingers in as far as they’d go and held them.
I ground our wet pussies together and felt the pressure roll out from deep inside me. The pleasure shot through me in silent wonder. All my weight slumped onto her as my hips kept pressing. My pussy tightened on her fingers harder until my mouth found hers to kiss away my sexual daze.
Tess pulled her fingers free once my body relaxed. With a smile on her lips, she licked my cum slowly off her fingers.
“More,” she said.
I kissed her and glanced at the clock. Then I shook my head. “Time for a pill.” I reached over and grabbed the water and dug out a pill.
“Answer a question for me first.” She sat up halfway as I sat back, still straddling her hips.
“I love you.” That answered all questions for me. Having Tess back and knowing I could handle her job—even if I didn’t like it.