by Radclyffe
“I love the way you feel,” Cam grated, pushing deeper between Blair’s thighs with the force of her whole body behind it. Blair’s fingers dug into her flesh. Cam moved her hand from Blair’s breast to behind her shoulders, then pulled her lover roughly against her, simultaneously stroking rapidly inside her. Blair clung to her, both arms now wrapped tightly around her neck—her face, damp with perspiration and the sweet sheen of sex—pressed to Cam’s neck.
Cam breathed in Blair’s ear, “I love to fuck you.”
“Do it, just do it.”
Before the words had completely left her throat, Blair bucked on Cam’s hand, then grew rigid, crying out helplessly as wave upon wave of pleasure ripped through her.
When Blair finally quieted, sagging back on the stool, her back propped against the breakfast counter for support, Cam spread her arms on either side of her and leaned close, pressing her hips into the still tender places that made Blair gasp. With her lips brushing the outer edge of Blair’s ear again, she growled, “I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”
Then, her legs still shaking from exertion and arousal, Cam stepped away, rapidly tucking in her shirt with trembling hands.
“What are you doing?” Blair asked, her voice thick with the lingering lassitude of satisfaction.
“I need to get out of here. I’m on duty, remember?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Blair laughed, her tone stronger this time. “Tell me you’re not ready to come.”
Cam grinned a little shakily. “What do you think?”
“Think? I know. Get over here and let me take care of you.”
“I shouldn’t. Really—I have things I have to do.”
“Uh-huh.” Indolently, Blair pulled her T-shirt the rest of the way off and ran one hand up her bare abdomen and over her breasts. “If you leave here the way you are now, everyone downstairs is going to know. You’re shaking. You look like you’re about to explode out of your skin.”
As she talked, Blair absently brushed her fingers over one nipple, bringing it back to taut arousal. Cam couldn’t take her eyes off those sensuous fingers. When Blair squeezed her own breast, her breath catching audibly as her hips lifted in invitation, Cam’s head reeled.
“Fuck it.” Pushing into the space between Blair’s spread thighs, Cam rapidly unbuckled her belt and opened her trousers. Then, she grasped the counter on either side of Blair’s body and leaned down to kiss her. Arms outstretched, locked in place, she waited for the touch that she knew would devastate her.
Smiling against Cam’s mouth, Blair pushed past the zipper and under the last barrier of material, then slid her fingers along her rigid length and circled back up again, reveling in the swift jerk of Cam’s hips into her palm. Cam’s breath rasped in her ear, a choking desperate sound that might have been pain, but she knew it wasn’t.
She could have teased her—she loved to tease her, but this time she knew neither of them could bear it. She worked her clitoris under her palm as she stroked back and forth through the hot swollen tissue, bringing Cam rapidly to the edge and then mercilessly driving her over. Cam shouted as she climaxed, shuddering in Blair’s arms, the weight of her body collapsing into orgasm almost enough to make Blair come again, too. As if it were the first time, Blair held her and trembled breathless with the wonder of loving her.
Chapter Nineteen
Ten minutes later, Cam stood at the door, brushing a strand of damp hair from Blair’s cheek.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Noon at the latest. If there’s any delay, I’ll call you from DC.”
“Okay.” Blair regarded her seriously, her gaze probing Cam’s face. “The photograph of you in the bar last night does it have anything to do with the call in San Francisco?”
“I don’t know,” Cam said after a moment’s hesitation. “there are too many things that don’t make sense right now. I’m hoping I’ll be able to find some answers in DC.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Blair, if there were an…investigation into…irregularities, you could be called to testify. Anything you know about me—or information I’ve shared with you—would be fair game. I can’t put you in that position.”
“I’m your lover, Cam,” Blair insisted quietly, realizing she had never before thought of herself that way in relationship to another person. It was so much more than physical, and the thought of being excluded from Cam’s life bothered her. “I want to know what’s happening to you.”
Cam brushed her thumb across Blair’s cheek and let her fingers trail over her neck to her shoulder. With her palm lightly stroking Blair’s bare upper arm, she murmured, “I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but there’s more than just us involved.”
“You can’t forget who I am, can you?” Blair said, her tone more sorrowful than accusatory.
“You’re a lot more to me than the First Daughter,” Cam replied, her tone gentle. “When you’re not angry with me, you remember that, right?”
“I’m not angry with you now. I just can’t stand feeling like there’s something standing between us, even though I know what you said makes sense. I hate that I’ll miss you the minute you walk out the door, and I’ll worry about what’s happening to you, and I’ll wonder about who you’re with.”
“Do you really hate those things?” Cam’s eyes had gone gray black and they bore into Blair’s.
“No,” Blair whispered, resting her palm under Cam’s jacket over the place where her heart beat beneath. “God, no.”
“I promise I’ll tell you as much as I can.”
“All right. I don’t like it, but I’ll accept that for now.”
“Thank you.”
Blair rubbed her hand lightly back and forth over Cam’s chest. “You’ll be careful, right?”
“Swear.” Cam kissed her, gently this time, without the urgency of earlier passion but with the certainty of belonging. “Don’t disappear on Mac if you go out, okay? Take someone with you, no matter where you’re going.”
Sighing, Blair nodded. “Only for you, Commander.”
Lightly, Cam stroked her cheek. “I love you.”
Then she opened the door and crossed the foyer to the elevator. Blair watched until the elevator doors closed behind her.
And then the longing, the other side of love, began.
———
Downstairs in Command Central, Cam found Mac in a cubbyhole in one corner of the main room, reviewing the pre-Paris intelligence reports. “Where’s Stark?”
“In the gym, I think. She’s got the swing shift today. I didn’t have any intel that Egret would be flying. Do you need her now?”
“Not for Egret. She’s settled in the nest.” Cam pointed to the ceiling and Blair’s apartment above. “But I want to talk to both of you. Let’s go find her.”
Five minutes later, they discovered Stark flat on her back on a weight bench, a barbell poised over her chest, counting reps out loud. She was alone in the twenty by thirty foot room outfitted with weights and aerobic equipment that the team used to keep in shape and work off excess adrenalin while waiting for Egret to leave the Aerie, as they referred to her top floor sanctuary.
“You should probably have a spotter,” Mac remarked good-naturedly as he lifted the bar from her hands and settled it into the cleats. She sat up, reaching for a towel as she did so. Quickly, she wiped the sweat from her face and off her bare arms. In a sleeveless T-shirt and gym shorts, her body looked sturdy and muscular.
“Sorry,” Stark said glancing from Mac to Cam. “I didn’t think there was anything on for me. I’ll just grab a fast shower and—”
“Relax, Stark,” Cam said as she slipped off her suit jacket. The air-conditioning in the workout room left a little something to be desired, and it was humid the way all gyms seemed to be. “This is not about Egret’s detail.”
Clearly puzzled, Stark remained silent as Cam settled onto a bench facing her and Mac sat down by her side. Automatically, she moved over an inch to give
him some room and herself space to maneuver. An agent never let their personal perimeter be encroached upon.
“I have to go to DC this afternoon, Cam said. “Mac, you’ll have the watch.
“Okay. Do you need me to make flight arrangements?”
“No. I’ll just catch a shuttle. I expect to be back tomorrow, but something may come up.” She paused, then said briskly, “Something has come up.”
She handed Mac the manila envelope. “Take a look at that. Handle it carefully—there probably aren’t any prints, but we could get lucky.”
Stark checked the envelope over Macs shoulder. “No post marks.”
“It came by courier this morning. Hand delivered.”
Mac drew in a quick breath, no doubt having the same uncomfortable feelings of déjà vu she’d had at first seeing the black block letters spelling out Blair’s name. “It went through to her?”
“Yes.”
“Who was downstairs?” Stark asked, an edge to her voice.
“Taylor.” He scanned it, then had it sent up to Egret. No reason not to.
Carefully, Mac pulled the photograph out by the corner and placed it atop the envelope in his lap. The two agents studied it for a minute without comment. Finally, Mac looked up at her. “Any message with it?”
“No.”
“When was it taken,” Stark asked, her tone guarded. She wasn’t used to questioning her commander about anything, let alone something that was obviously personal.
“Last night about 3:00 a.m.”
“Jesus,” Mac exclaimed. “How?”
“Someone must have tailed me downtown from here, because I never went home.”
Neither of them asked how it was possible that she had been followed. Ordinarily, a Secret Service agent didn’t worry about their own security. They were just anonymous faces on the fringes of the spotlight, nearly identical and interchangeable. And replaceable.
“What really worries me is that someone probably tailed us from Teterboro to here. Which means that we have a problem in terms of Egrets security.”
“Do you think that she’s a target of some kind?” Mac asked.
“Jesus, not again,” Stark breathed, unaware that she had even spoken aloud.
“Probably not physically,” Cam replied grimly. “But that remains to be seen. We must assume she is. Maybe this is the same photographer who took the photo in San Francisco.”
Stark stared for a second, her thoughts practically written across her broad, smooth face. “On the beach”
“Yes,” Cam said quietly.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry, Commander,” she said miserably. “I had the beach in view the whole time, but he must have gotten by me.”
“He got by us both, Stark. Forget it.” Cam tried to shrug away the anger that rose every time she thought of someone watching her and Blair together during an innocent, intimate moment. When they’d both felt safe. Christ, is this how she feels all the time? No wonder she’s angry. How in hell does she stand it?
“Commander?” Mac asked uncertainly.
Cam flinched imperceptibly, her gaze refocusing on her agents. “I’d like to know who’s taking such an interest.”
“You want me to run this through forensics?”
“Like I said we could get lucky. Maybe he licked the envelope and well get a DNA sample.”
“Or maybe she did,” Stark interjected.
“I suppose that’s possible,” Cam allowed, keeping her tone carefully neutral.
Mac glanced again at the image, seeming to be searching for words. “Do you—uh—know this woman?”
“No, I don’t,” Cam answered crisply. “Try calling Walker in the New York City lab to run the tests. He’s good.”
“Uh, excuse me, Commander,” Stark said, “but maybe that’s not such a good idea. Respectfully, ma’am.”
Cam eyed her. “Go ahead.”
“Well, this photograph is telling.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Cam remarked dryly, hating the disclosure of something so private, even to those she trusted. The younger agent colored, and Cam regretted her brief loss of control. “Go ahead, Stark.”
“I think we should handle this internally as far as possible.”
“Are you up on your forensics?” Mac interjected. “Cause I sure can’t walk this through a lab.”
“No,” Stark answered tentatively, seemingly feeling her way along a narrow ledge that threatened to crumble under her feet. “But I know someone we can trust who can do it. Renee Savard.”
“She’s FBI,” Mac exclaimed. “Since when do we trust them?”
“She’s a friend,” Stark insisted, holding his gaze steadily. “I know she won’t betray us. And she’s been assigned to a desk at the New York City field office.”
“Isn’t she still in the hospital?” Cam asked.
“Until today. I’m going there in a few minutes to pick her up.” For the first time, she appeared unsure. “To give her a ride home you know.”
Cam suppressed a grin. “Understood. But she’s got to be on medical leave for a while.”
Stark laughed derisively. “Sure. For about a day. She’ll go in the first chance she gets.”
“Mac?” Cam asked.
He thought about the conversations he’d had in the past with the FBI agent. She had always dealt with them squarely, and she had been willing to give her life for Egret. Still, he had an inherent distrust of the FBI. “Yeah, I say we keep it in house. And Savard is almost one of us.”
“Agreed.” Cam stood. “Stark, mind if I tag along with you to the hospital on my way to the airport?”
“I’ll be ready in five,” the agent responded, jumping up and heading for the shower.
“Keep me informed of any developments on this end, Mac.”
“Don’t worry, Commander,” he assured her rapidly. “Well be fine here.”
“Of course,” she said with confidence. But leaving Blair was getting harder every day, and it had less and less to do with her assignment as the First Daughters security chief.
Chapter Twenty
“Is she okay?”
“Sure,” Stark responded automatically, watching the door swing closed behind Cameron Roberts.
Renee Savard, seated on the side of her narrow hospital bed, raised an eyebrow. Her coffee-colored skin had regained its luster and her blue eyes were sharp and clear once again. If the bruise on her forehead or the healing gunshot wound in her shoulder were causing her any pain, she didn’t show it. Even in a faded, shapeless hospital gown she was striking.
“She took quite a beating in the blast, you know,” Stark acknowledged uneasily. “Why?”
“She looks tired, that’s all. I’m guess I’m just not used to seeing her that way. Her blue eyes probed the face of the agent rocking faintly back and forth on her heels by the side of her bed, clearly uncomfortable discussing her chief. Renee noticed, too, the circles smudging the smooth clear skin under Paula’s eyes, and she realized that all of them had taken a beating the last few weeks. Softly, she asked, “How about you? You okay?.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“That’s good,” Savard replied, not really believing her. “It took guts for Roberts to come here today and show me that photo.”
“She doesn’t back down from anything,” Stark agreed.
“Still I am FBI. For all she knows I could send that straight to an Assistant Director and she’d have a jacket by sundown.”
“Yeah like we all don’t anyhow,” Stark said angrily. “You know Doyle investigated all of us when the task force was formed.”
“That’s just SOP,” Savard pointed out gently. “But I know it sucked for all of you.”
Starks expression softened. “Sorry, I know it wasn’t on you. Do you think you’ll be able to help us out?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I know a couple of people in the lab who will run things through for me with no questions asked. They’re such total lab rats they probably don’t even know w
ho she is. I don’t think they’ll make the connection. It will buy her a little time, but sooner or later, you know something is going to come out.”
Stark was silent, torn between her desire to share her concerns and her loyalty to her commander’s privacy.
“I saw the photo in the newspaper last night,” Savard remarked casually. “The one of Blair Powell and the mystery lover.”
“Yeah,” Stark said offhandedly. “The whole team seems to be a popular subject these days.”
“That’s Roberts with her, isn’t it?”
Once again, Stark hesitated.
“Paula, anyone with eyes can see what’s happening between those two. You know damn well I don’t care. Why should I? It’s their business.”
“Yeah,” Stark replied with a hint of bitterness. “It should be just their business—but considering it’s the first daughter and all— and the commander being on the team—you know it’s complicated.”
“Complicated. Yes, I agree with that. But it’s still nobody’s business. It’s for them to work out the complications.”
“I hope they can,” Stark said fervently. She’d been on Egret’s team since day one, and for a few months before Ellen Grant had been assigned, she’d been the only woman. She’d watched Blair tear through one night stands and dangerous liaisons—until the Commander had come along. Now it was all different. Better.
Savard smiled, watching the concern darken Stark’s eyes. “You’re sweet, have I ever mentioned that?”
“Maybe,” Stark said, grinning.
“They’ll be okay.”
“Sure, I know that.” Stark straightened her shoulders. “I’m glad you didn’t mind me suggesting that you help out. I didn’t know that the Commander was going to brief you herself.”
Savard reached out and took Stark’s hand, running her thumb back and forth over the top of her hand as their fingers intertwined. “You did right. I’m glad you thought of me.”
“I think about you all the time.” Stark blushed, but her voice was firm and her eyes held Savard’s steadily.