by V. K. Powell
Regan’s body telegraphed suppressed passion: her eyes lusty, her breath coming in short, labored bursts, and her skin flushed with desire. “Life returns to normal for both of us, I guess. You go back to patrol work, tomorrow if you want, and I return to the mundane cases of a municipal bureaucracy. Ho-hum.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant. What about this?” Syd sucked Regan’s bottom lip and nuzzled a breast to emphasize her point.
Regan arched her back to meet the stimulation. “I see. We definitely have a situation. I find avoidance is not the best policy in cases like this.”
Syd started unbuttoning Regan’s blouse, teasing a trail between her breasts with her tongue. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s better to get it out of our system and move on.” When Regan tentatively nodded in agreement, Syd said, “Come with me.”
She pulled Regan from the sofa and led her toward the king-sized bed surrounded by uncovered windows overlooking the city. The uncustomary sensation of being in charge of a sexual interaction filled Syd with apprehension but also piqued her desire. Regan would allow her to do anything she wanted. And what a leap of faith that was, because Regan Desanto did not relinquish control easily.
Syd sat on the foot of the bed and motioned for Regan to come to her. When she reached for another of the covered buttons on Regan’s blouse, her fingers trembled in anticipation. It seemed to take an eternity to release one of the fasteners and expose a small expanse of blushing pink flesh. She moved to the next button and had begun working it free when Regan grabbed her blouse on both sides, ripped the fasteners apart, and tossed it on the floor. Without further preamble, she removed her bra and slacks and, wearing only a thin black thong, stepped between Syd’s legs.
The change from reluctance to commitment excited Syd even more. It was as if Regan had evaluated her situation in that instant between clothed and exposed and decided what she wanted. All hesitation vanished from her face as she offered her body for Syd’s pleasure. But her eyes told another story. The crystal blue irises deepened into a stormy navy and seemed to beg for gentleness and patience.
“I’ll take very good care of you.” Syd kissed her softly and let her eyes relay the promise her words implied.
When Syd started to remove her own clothes, Regan stopped her. “Don’t. I’d like you to take me with your clothes on. I want you to come in your jeans again.”
The pounding flesh between Syd’s legs responded to Regan’s words as if she’d been licked. “Whatever you want.”
She guided Regan backward onto the edge of the bed. Soft light from the streets below cast grayish shadows over the dips of Regan’s toned body and highlighted the swell of her breasts. Syd knelt between her legs on the floor, caressing and teasing her way upward with her fingers, teeth, and tongue. The scent of Regan’s arousal was heady and invigorating as she neared the join of her thighs. Her urge to satisfy her taste buds was powerful, but she knew it was too soon for Regan. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could control her own body if she allowed herself just one sample. After all, she’d come earlier with much less stimulation. She couldn’t risk that embarrassment again.
Reaching up to massage Regan’s breasts, she reveled in the powerful transformation of the soft nursing tissue into a firm puckered mound of desire in her hands. She rose to her knees, leaned over Regan, and sucked a breast into her hungry mouth. Regan’s body jerked in response and a slow moan escaped her tightly pressed lips. Syd humped against the side of the bed, trying to get closer. The seam of her jeans cut into her swollen lips. Without panties, the pleasure was too immediate and the pain too intense. She recoiled, clutched the crotch of her shorts, and jerked it away from her body. The early warning shards of orgasm threatened to overtake her again. She struggled to regulate her breathing and think of anything except the beautiful woman panting for release on her bed.
Syd was definitely in unfamiliar territory, her body shooting off with the slightest provocation. It was as if the wires connecting her emotional and sexual centers had been fused together and as one sparked, the other fired. Syd decided to enjoy the intensity of the sensation. It probably resulted from an overloaded stress level and this was her outlet. Tomorrow everything would return to normal; sex minus feelings equals fun.
“Are you okay?” Regan started to get up but Syd waved her off.
“I’m fine. I just need a minute.” She’d never been so turned on before. Her former sexual partners always had to work hard to satisfy her, but without touching her, Regan had already solicited one spontaneous orgasm and Syd was on her way to a second. Had the element of control, the woman herself, or something else entirely heightened the experience? Right now Syd couldn’t be sure of anything except that she wanted to please Regan.
She climbed beside her on the bed, needing the comfort and security of full contact. Regan’s body called to hers with the power of the elements, and Syd brought their bodies together lengthwise, something she seldom desired or allowed with casual lovers. She kissed Regan’s mouth, her face, and down the side of her neck, inhaling the flowery softness of her perfume and drinking it in like a drug.
Her eyes burned and she was surprised to taste the salty wetness of her own tears. When Regan seemed to notice her blinking, she said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I guess I’m just so relieved and grateful.”
Regan finger combed Syd’s hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “Nothing is wrong with you tonight. You’re absolutely perfect.”
The words sent a ripple of relief, appreciation, and passion through Syd. Regan knew how many women Syd had slept with, and still she reacted like they were each other’s first lover. Syd kissed her again, licking and sucking her lips and tongue and pouring her entire being into this amazing woman. As their kiss deepened so did Syd’s need. She nibbled her way down Regan’s body, memorizing every curve and nuance until she reached the single patch of fabric separating them. Cupping her hand over Regan’s sex, she squeezed the sheer thong material and found it soaked with the evidence of Regan’s arousal. Teasing the garment aside, Syd gently stroked her engorged clit and was rewarded with a low humming moan that increased in direct proportion to her touches.
She tried to remember the last time she’d actually made love to anyone, not just traded orgasms. It had been too long. She’d almost forgotten what a powerful aphrodisiac it was to orchestrate the satisfaction of another woman, to pluck the strings of her physical body and make it sing like a finely tuned instrument. Somehow she’d known that Regan’s body would be this responsive.
“Please, Syd. I need you.”
The pleading request swirled through Syd like fever. She repositioned herself between Regan’s legs, inhaling her scent and grinding her own pelvis into the mattress. The tiny patch of blondish hair glistened with moisture in the muted light. Syd licked Regan’s protruding clit and teased her way down. Regan’s legs tensed on either side of her.
“I want you inside me, now.” The statement was almost inaudible but its intensity was palpable.
Syd lowered her mouth to Regan and simultaneously entered her with a possessive thrust a bit more forceful than she intended. Fearing she might’ve hurt her, she immediately started to withdraw.
“No, don’t stop,” Regan begged. “More.”
As Regan’s body responded to her pistoning fingers, Syd’s lust swelled. The rough seam of her jeans rubbed painfully against her clit. Another explosion pending, she clamped her legs together against the sensation and concentrated all her energies on Regan.
It was as if Regan sensed her frustration and wanted no part of a one-sided exchange. “Don’t hold back. Come with me. I know you want to.”
Her words dissolved Syd’s resistance. She allowed the tingling, stabbing excitement to consume her body and overpower her. Savoring and commanding Regan like a devouring beast, she humped the crumpled bed covers beneath her and let the climax possess her. As she tensed with the force of pending release, Regan’s
body quivered and convulsed beneath her. They clung to each other and Syd wondered about the joy she experienced each time Regan’s muscles twitched against hers. Regan’s pleasure had become her own, and she could hardly wait to have her again.
Syd lost track of time as they made love over and over through the night. When the first slivers of dawn crept through the cityscape into her windows, she watched the light play across Regan’s features as she slept. Her soft curls of fine blond hair were tousled and moved slightly with each breath. Syd had never seen her so relaxed or so beautiful, her skin still flushed from their loving. The urge to take her in her sleep became almost overpowering, and Syd’s body moistened in anticipation. She tucked her hand between her legs and considered a quick hand job but knew it would be totally unsatisfactory after last night’s activities. Instead she gently kissed Regan’s forehead and slid out of bed.
She scribbled several drafts of a note, left one on her pillow, grabbed a clean uniform, and headed to the station to shower and get back to work. Softly closing the door behind her, she realized this was the first time she’d spent the entire night with a lover. She was always gone long before first light. It was also the first time a woman had spent the night in her loft. She conducted all sexual encounters at someone else’s home, in a vehicle, or some other neutral territory. Never, and there had been no exceptions until now, never at her place.
The thought dispatched a warm feeling through her system that soon changed to a knotted fist of anxiety. What had she done?
*
Regan awakened slowly, her body alive with the cellular memory of recent sex. Her lips were swollen and her muscles ached from the containment and release of pleasure during orgasm. Her breasts were tender and the nipples puckered anew at the thought of Syd’s mouth on them. Eyes closed and senses keenly alert, she replayed the evening’s events and let the sensations wash over her. She wasn’t ready to face the morning or Syd until she was certain she hadn’t dreamed or imagined it all.
When she’d arrived at Syd’s door, she’d intended to deliver the news about the verdict and leave. But when she saw Syd standing in front of her, barely clad in those jean shorts and tank top, her intentions had taken a sharp detour south. It was as if she no longer controlled her own mind or body. There was just something so sexually compelling about her that Regan felt defenseless. She wanted to blurt the news, celebrate their victory, and seduce Syd before she had time to object. And when Syd fell on top of her on the sofa, surrender seemed appropriate. They’d more or less agreed that they should spend the night working through their mutual attraction and then move on. It had been exquisite.
Regan knew without a doubt that she had been loved, not just sexually satisfied. Often with Martha she’d felt like a vessel into which her lover poured an occasional drop of affection to keep her appeased. For most of their relationship she hadn’t felt intimately connected, and when she’d tried to assert her sexual needs, Martha only tightened her stranglehold on their rigid routines.
Was it any wonder that she’d been amazed when Syd experienced a spontaneous orgasm in her arms only moments after they’d physically connected? Such freedom of expression had been nonexistent in her life previously. And Syd’s tears, regardless of their true cause, had shown Regan another side of this sensitive woman. Beneath the layered façade of cop attitude rested the heart of a passionate and caring person. Regan felt fortunate to have glimpsed her. That vulnerability had allowed her to surrender physically without reservation.
But Syd had surprised her in other ways as well. From what she’d seen and heard, Syd usually assumed the more submissive role during sex. Last night had been different. Without hesitation, Syd had become the initiator, almost as if it was something she needed to do. And Regan was more than willing to yield. There were none of the mental gymnastics that had inevitably accompanied a session with Martha. She’d been free to simply allow her body to feel, releasing all trepidation when Syd promised to take care of her. And Syd had kept her word, making love with a tenderness and passion that invited Regan to accept and let go, without thinking the whole encounter to death.
She brought her hand to her face and sniffed the musky fragrance of Syd that lingered there. She licked the remnants of her essence from the tips of her fingers and moaned in appreciation. Her body was suddenly fully awake and hungry. She rolled onto her side and stared at the pillow where Syd’s head should’ve been.
“What the…” She lifted a piece of paper and squinted against the bright morning light as she read the message.
Last night was great. Very special. I’m glad we decided to get it out of our systems. Lock the door when you leave. Good luck.
Syd
Regan bolted upright in bed and looked around the loft. She called to Syd, unable to believe she’d left without even a good-bye. Disappointment flooded her. Of course Syd was gone. This was just a one-night thing. They’d agreed on it up front. Her anger made no sense. She knew who Syd was. She’d known that the moment this case was over their lives would return to normal. For Syd that meant no complications, and for Regan it meant victory and vindication. She’d faced her demons and stared them down. What more did she want?
As she searched the loft for her clothing scattered from the bed to the living room, she renewed the detachment that had served her so well through the years. Sydney Cabot had effectively neutralized her defense mechanisms in only one night, and for a few moments, before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep, Regan had allowed herself to imagine she could have more. But the only more she faced today was more vulnerability. She was about to walk back to her car holding a buttonless blouse together across her tender breasts. If she allowed anyone to see the freshly fucked look on her face, she would be humiliated.
Like the women in that conference room, she’d succumbed to the seductive powers of a proven gigolo. And, like them, she would be left with only the memory of an encounter that would be hard to match. Regan tore up the note and left the pieces scattered across the pillows. As she slammed the loft door behind her, she thought, For an accomplished attorney you’re not very smart.
Chapter Thirteen
Syd shucked off her sweaty uniform and tossed it into the clothes hamper, thankful that her first day back on the job had kept her too busy to think. As she found fresh clothing, her eyes drifted to the still-ruffled bed. She’d avoided looking at it since entering her bedroom. She didn’t want to start thinking about Regan again and wishing for the impossible. Her heart sped up when she saw shreds of paper clinging to the pillows. The note. She’d agonized over writing it, wanting to leave some kind of acknowledgment but fearful that Regan would feel pressured if she said anything sentimental. Her first several attempts were scrunched up in the trash.
Frowning, she pulled on a pair of baggy gym shorts and a T-shirt, opened the balcony doors, and let the cool evening breeze claim her overheated body. But she was horribly aware the torrid conditions that had plagued her all day had nothing to do with the weather. The entire surface of her skin chafed from the memory of Regan’s touch, and a simple breeze would not ease her discomfort.
She headed into the kitchen for a much-needed martini and the return to sanity she hoped it would bring. As she walked through the loft she refused to look again at her bed or the sofa where she had fallen on top of Regan, knowing instinctively that they still bore the imprint of her body. That was the problem with having sex in your own place—reminders. It was easier to leave it all behind in someone else’s home and pretend it never happened.
She took a sip of her drink and wished she could turn back the clock to last night. So much had happened and she understood so little of it now. Almost as if her wish had been granted, a knock sounded at the door. She rushed to answer it, her heart rate quickening in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she swung the door open wide and motioned her visitor inside with a bold sweep of her arm. “Please, come in.”
Jesse walked in with a knowing grin. “You were obviou
sly expecting somebody else.”
Syd did a double take and tried to hide her disappointment. “Not really. Just wishful thinking.”
“You didn’t come to the club after you got the ruling. I had to hear about it from your pals. So here I am. What gives? And don’t try to bullshit me. I don’t have the time, and I’m not in the mood to have smoke blown up my ass unless I’m getting sex afterward.” Jesse walked around the loft, sniffing the air as she went. “Speaking of sex, you’ve had some in this very room, recently. That’s unusual for you.”
Syd couldn’t suppress her smile. “Did you come here to talk to me or to talk at me? I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise since you walked in.”
“Okay, give me a beer. Sounds like I’m going to need several.” Jesse scrubbed her knuckles across the top of her head in a telltale sign of confusion and settled onto one end of the sofa. “I’m surprised,” she said. “Why aren’t you more excited? You’d normally be celebrating at the club with an entourage of women.”
“I celebrated last night, sort of, with my attorney.” As Syd made the statement, she wondered if she truly considered their night together just a celebratory fuck. Her next thought was even more troubling. What if that was all it had been for Regan? She handed Jesse a cold beer. Of course that’s all it was. What the hell’s wrong with you, Cabot?
“That tall, blond-haired butch type that dragged you out of the club last week? That attorney?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, cowabunga. I knew I liked her.”
Syd could feel Jesse’s eyes following her every movement. She never tried to push. A well placed uh-huh or a knowing nod was all the encouragement needed. In the end, Syd told her everything anyway, so prying was unnecessary and a waste of energy.