by Radclyffe
Blair laughed harshly, trapping Cam's hand in hers to stop the undeniable excitement that the mere brush of her fingertips started inside. "Well, I'm not trusting anything to luck. Either you resign from my detail, or I don't want anything to do with you beyond our daily briefings."
Cam leaned forward and brushed her lips over the tip of Blair's shoulder. "No," she said very softly.
Blair ignored the swift stab of desire that raced through her. "I'm sorry?" she managed, her voice cold.
"No," Cam repeated, moving her mouth a fraction of an inch closer to the base of Blair's neck. She was leaning over her now, her breasts brushing lightly against Blair's bare arm. She felt her nipples stiffen beneath her T-shirt and knew that Blair could feel them too.
"It's not about sex," Blair said harshly, all too aware of the fire burning hotter every second. She was shaking lightly, her skin alive to Cam's touch.
Cam took Blair's hand and pressed it to her chest. Her heart pounded against Blair's palm.
"Neither is this," Cam whispered. "I've tried so hard not to want you. I've tried so hard not to need you. I can't help it. I can't stop it. We didn't choose this, either of us. I can't walk away from it. I can't walk away from loving you, and I can't walk away from doing what I know how to do to keep you safe. Please don't ask me to."
Blair turned her face away, struggling to resist the pull of Cam's words and the sweet seduction of her touch. "I don't want you to love me," she protested, her voice breaking.
Cam pressed her lips to the hollow of Blair's throat. "Yes," she said very softly as she reached under the sheet and gently cupped Blair's breast, "you do."
Blair moaned and arched her back, unable to control the surge of desire. "Damn you, Cameron." But the fine edge of longing was clear in her voice.
"Blair," Cam murmured, nudging the sheet aside. She moved her lips over Blair's chest, found her nipple, and pulled it carefully between her lips. She sucked it slowly as it grew hard and tight, then bit lightly, making Blair groan. She was hard too, and wet, and a pulse pounded demandingly between her thighs. She sat back, gasping with sudden urgency. "Help me get my clothes off."
Blair forced herself to focus through a haze of arousal and saw Cam struggling to pull the T-shirt off one-handed. "Here," she said quickly, sitting forward. "Let me do that."
She carefully worked the fabric down over the bandage on Cam's arm, then directed Cam to stand up, reaching for the ties on the sweatpants. When Cam kicked free of her clothes, Blair caught her uninjured hand and pulled Cam down beside her on the bed. She ran her hand along the length of Cam's body, over her abdomen, down her thigh and back up the inside of her leg.
Cam lifted her hips, breathing rapidly. "You're distracting me again."
Blair ran her fingertips through the thick wet heat between Cam's legs, her breath catching in her throat as her own body clenched in response. "I like distracting you," she murmured.
Cam made an effort to move on top of her and gasped sharply as she pushed up on her injured arm.
"What is it?" Blair asked quickly.
"Just my arm," Cam replied, attempting to direct Blair back onto the pillows with her other hand.
"Lie back, Cam," Blair said firmly. As she spoke, she took Cam's shoulders gently and pushed her down. "Let me."
Cam did not protest. She was still tingling from Blair's brief caress, and she was more than ready for more. "I actually enjoy being distracted," she admitted softly.
Blair laughed quietly and fit herself between Cam's legs, stopping briefly to press her cheek to Cam's breast and brush her lips over her nipple before kissing her way slowly down Cam's abdomen.
Cam closed her eyes with a sigh, a long, low sigh of surrender.
She lifted her hips as Blair's palms pressed against her thighs, opening her; and she arched her back, her muscles tightening, as Blair's lips closed on her; and she caught back a groan, trembling, as Blair's tongue tormented her. Blair's tender, knowing touch banished the pain and the fatigue and the worry.
"You are so good," Cam whispered faintly, her fingers trailing through Blair's hair. She was very close and desperate not to come. "So good."
Blair answered by massaging the spot that made Cam's muscles quiver and quickened her pace, drawing a sharp gasp from Cam. She felt Cam twitch under her tongue and knew she was there. Blair slipped an arm around her and pulled her close, knowing as she took her with her mouth and her hands and her heart, the simple truth of it.
There was no stopping, no turning back, for either of them. Not now. Not the next day. Not ever.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was almost dawn when Cam left Blair's room. Savard, who had not yet been replaced by someone from the day shift, looked toward Cam as she stepped into the hallway.
Cam walked over to her and stood by her side. Their eyes met as she asked, "Anything to report, Agent Savard?"
"No, ma'am. It was a very quiet night."
"Nothing out of the ordinary then?" Cam asked again. She had a feeling that if Renee Savard had a problem, she'd deal with it out in the open, face to face, and not in some report sent to DC in a sealed folder. And if Renee Savard had a problem with her, Camwanted it out in the open. There was too much work to be done in the next few weeks that required her full attention, and she couldn't be worried about looking over her shoulder. Loverboy was not going to de-escalate. Not now. And all of them needed to be sharp and focused if they were going to stop him without losing another of their number. "Nothing you wish to discuss?"
"No problems that I am aware of," Savard affirmed. "No activity whatsoever, Commander."
Cam nodded and added, "Very well then. We'll brief at 0700, if you could inform your relief, please."
"Yes ma'am," Savard said and returned her gaze to the window. If someone was going to make trouble about Cameron Roberts and Blair Powell caring for one another, it wasn't going to be her.
Shortly after eight AM, Blair was seated at a small patio table on the rear deck of the house. She had pulled on jeans and a v-neck shirt and was starting on her second cup of coffee. Stark had come out a few moments earlier and had walked down onto the lawn to take up her post there. She was leaning against the corner of the deck, apparently surveying the expanse of lawn and the river beyond.
Blair glanced up as the sliding glass doors opened and Cameron walked out. It was the first time she had seen her since they had parted in the dim pre-dawn light. Blair smiled, enjoying the look of her in her fresh white shirt and tailored trousers. Cam looked rested and pain free, although Blair knew that she hadn't had much sleep. She also noticed the clean bandage on her hand and wondered fleetingly who had done that for her. It might have bothered her more if Cam hadn't been looking at her with such intensity that her skin tingled.
"Good morning, Commander," she called softly, her eyes warm with welcome.
Cam's smile was equally intimate as she approached, a cup of coffee in her left hand. She sat down across from her and said quietly, "Ms. Powell."
The words were as smooth as a caress, and Blair was instantly reminded of the last time they had touched, only hours before. It had been Cam's lips against her neck that had been smooth then, their arms around one another as they stood together by the door.
"I have to go," Cam whispered, her hands running lightly up and down Blair's back. She had pulled on her T-shirt and sweats. Blair was still naked. "I need to get back to work."
"I know."
"I'm sorry," Cam whispered.
"Don't be," Blair murmured, her arms around Cam's waist, her lips against her neck. She kissed her softly, then a little harder as the stirring began again in the pit of her stomach.
"No fair," Cam whispered.
"I know." Blair pulled away reluctantly, sighing softly. "Go on. Go before I don't let you go."
"Blair, I lo-"
Blair stopped her, gentle fingers against her lips. Cam looked at her, puzzled.
"Don't make any promises, Commander," Blair murmured. "Just tell
me you will come back."
"Yes," Cam had whispered, just as she kissed her.
"I'm sorry?" Blair said, realizing that Cam had been speaking to her.
Cam watched Blair's eyes swim into focus, just as they did after they made love and she slowly returned to herself. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen and she had to concentrate on her words to remember what she had been saying. "The FBI and my team have each independently cleared your building for reoccupancy.
Blair nodded. "I'd like to go home then."
"I know."
"What do you think?"
Cam shrugged and admitted reluctantly, "I think another day won't matter. I trust my team, and I don't believe that the situation will be any different unless we remain here indefinitely."
Blair smiled, remembering the last two days and the few moments she had been able to have alone with Cam. "There is something to be said for being locked up here with you."
Cam's eyes darkened and her grin was slow and easy. "There is indeed."
Blair's heart rate doubled just in response to the husky familiarity in Cam's voice. Unfortunately, the rest of her responded too, and as much as she enjoyed the sensation, she was all too aware that it might be some time before she could satisfy the pressure beginning to build inside.
She flushed as she watched Cam's gaze fall to her breasts. The width of the table separated them, but she felt the glance as if Cam's hands were on her. Her nipples stiffened under the thin cotton. "Don't do that," she said very quietly, her voice oddly breathy.
"What would that be, Ms. Powell?" Cam murmured, her fingers trembling with the desire to skim along the surface of the soft skin visible at the neck of Blair's shirt.I'm in big trouble.
"Don't look at me like that in public," Blair rejoined softly, "because in case you haven't noticed, self-control has never been my strong suit."
Cam lifted eyes hazy with longing to Blair's. The wanting was a hard ache in her gut. Her chest tight, she whispered, "Then I promise not to tease you - in public."
Blair shivered lightly, like an animal run too hard in the hot sun, and nodded, her voice gone, her blood burning. She had never expected this helplessness in the face of desire. If this was what loving Cameron would mean, she wasn't sure she would survive it.
"I must go," Cam said gently, because leaving her was the last thing she wanted at that moment.
"All right. For now," Blair murmured, following her with her eyes as she walked to the edge of the deck.
Cam stepped down beside Stark and said, "Tell the team we'll be leaving for the Aerie at 1300 hours."
Paula Stark, who appeared to be engrossed in the feeding habits of two fat robins on the lush green lawn, answered, "Yes, ma'am."
*
Stark heard the patio door open and close and glanced over her shoulder to ascertain that Blair Powell was still within visual range. Seeing that she was, she returned her gaze to the perimeter and her mind to the previous evening. She had been standing almost in this exact spot a little after sundown, when the patio door had slid open then and Renee Savard had walked down the stairs to her side.
"Everything quiet?" Savard asked, leaning one shoulder against the deck support.
"Very," Stark answered, glad for the company. There was nothing quite so long or quite so lonely as the night shift.
"Agent Ryan leave yet?" Savard questioned casually.
"About an hour ago. She left some files for the Commander to review, but she said that she can do more from Quantico where she has better access to the databanks."
"She seems to know what she's doing," Savard appraised honestly.
Stark shifted her weight and automatically slid her hands into her pockets in an unconscious gesture similar to Cameron Roberts. "She's very sharp. I'm glad that the Commander brought her up here today, because now I don't feel like I'm chasing some phantom. At least I have a picture of him in my mind."
Savard nodded in agreement. "Well, I'd certainly rather work with her than some of the hotheads from violent crimes we usually get stuck with on something like this."
Stark laughed in agreement. "Boys with guns."
"Actually, I've always been partial to girls with guns," Savard said with a soft smile.
Stark was grateful for the darkness, because her blush would have been impossible to hide. Suddenly, the night seemed much warmer, and she was acutely aware of the way Renee Savard's voice sounded in the night. Low and smooth and - sexy. She swallowed and managed to answer steadily, "So am I."
"Well, that's nice to know," Savard responded. "When things quiet down a little on this detail, we should see what else we might have in common."
"Uh - that would be a--good," Stark said, cursing herself for sounding like a dolt.
Savard smiled at her. "I don't think that Secret Service agents are supposed to be quite so sweet, Agent Stark. But on you it's very nice."
Stark was trying to think of a clever response when Savard brushed her fingers over the back of her hand and walked away.
"Stark?"
Stark jumped and turned quickly toward Blair, who was leaning on the railing looking down at her, a quizzical expression on her face.
"Ma'am?" Stark blushed again.Damn it.
"Would you let the Commander know that I'm ready to go home as soon as she gives the word?"
"Yes, ma'am. I will," Stark assured her, all business once more. According to what Lindsey Ryan had told them the day before, once they left the relative sanctuary of this house, any of them were targets.
Chapter Thirty
Mac held out the phone, a puzzled expression on his face, and said, "Commander? Egret wishes to speak to you."
Cam was bent over one of the nearby desks, replaying a segment of videotape taken in Central Park during Blair's speech. She was specifically studying the crowd in the general vicinity of Marcy Coleman, searching for a slim, 25 to 30-year-old white male, approximately five ten, a hundred and fifty pounds. That was the description Dr. Coleman had given them of the man who had handed her the envelope for Blair Powell.
"I'll take it over here," Cam said immediately, surprised and concerned. Blair rarely contacted her for anything official.
She reached for the receiver, the only indication of her disquiet a faint line between her brows. "Yes?"
"Cameron, can you come up here please?"
There was hollowness in her tone that set Cam's heart racing with anxiety. "Right away. Are you -"
"I'm all right," Blair said hurriedly, but there was a faint tremor in her voice.
"I'm on my way," Cam said, dropping the receiver into the cradle. She headed swiftly toward the door, instructing Mac as she walked, "I want a voice check with all agents. Verify that all agents are at their posts and that they have nothing out of the ordinary to report."
Mac straightened and immediately turned to the monitors, simultaneously activating his transmitter. "Yes, ma'am," he said sharply.
Cam didn't hear his reply because she was already through the door and in the hallway, keying the elevator to Blair's penthouse. Thirty seconds later she was at Blair's door. When the door swung open, Blair was standing just inside, waiting, her face pale. Cam took Blair's shoulders in both her hands and looked intently into her face. "What is it?"
Blair managed a smile, but the smile was faint and her blue eyes were deeply troubled. She extended a white envelope toward Cam. "This came in the mail."
Cam took it and studied the front. Blair's name and address were affixed with a common bulk-mailing label. It looked perfectly ordinary. The return address was for a well-known charity organization.
"I thought it was about a fundraiser," Blair said quietly.
Cam looked inside and the muscles in her stomach tightened. "Have you touched it?"
Blair nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking-"
Cam shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's never left prints before. Still, we have to go through the motions."
She looked around for so
mething with which to tease out the white rectangle. Blair handed her a large paper clip and she hooked it over the corner of the photograph and slid it out.
Cam silently regarded the image of Diane Bleeker standing in front of her Upper East Side apartment building with a sense of fury and dread. There was a familiar red circle with an x through it drawn centered over her chest. Cam turned over the Polaroid and saw another mailing label affixed to the back. Typed on it were the words:Meet me or she's next
Cam placed the photograph back into the envelope and slipped it into her inside jacket pocket. Then she walked directly to the wallphone in Blair's kitchen and rapidly punched in a series of numbers.