by Radclyffe
Sloan stiffened. “No. You had an orgasm, right?”
“Yes,” Michael agreed gently. “A very sweet, very tender, very quiet orgasm. And when I wanted to touch you, you—”
“Baby,” Sloan interrupted, “I just couldn’t wait. I just…lost it there.”
“I know, and I love it when you’re like that. When all you have to do is lie on top of me and come in my arms.” Michael leaned over to look directly into her lover’s eyes. “But tell me that you weren’t trying to keep me from exerting myself.”
“Ali said—”
“Ali said we could have sex,” Michael said firmly. “She didn’t say we could only have sex if I stayed very still and let you tend to me. That’s not the way we make love.” She kissed Sloan to take the edge off her tone. “I happen to like to make you scream.”
“Jesus,” Sloan groaned, her body twitching. “You know how crazy you make me. And just being next to you—”
“Is wonderful, yes. But it’s not everything that I want.” Michael glided her hand down the center of Sloan’s chest, over her stomach, and between her legs. She closed her fingers and watched Sloan’s eyes grow hazy. “I want you like this.” Never taking her eyes from Sloan’s face, she slid into her, pressing her palm hard against Sloan’s clitoris, still swollen from her recent orgasm. “I want to make you come my way, my time.”
Sloan’s chest jerked with spastic breaths, her hands trembling on the sheets. “Please. Michael, please, I love you so much.”
“I know, my darling,” Michael whispered, beginning to thrust. “I know.”
*
Sandy sat on one end of a leather sofa across from the matching one where Jasmine, in tight black satin slacks and a deep burgundy, scoop-neck top, lounged beside a redhead in a pale green oxford shirt and chinos. Sandy watched the two of them with curiosity, trying to figure out the score. Every time the really cute redhead—Sarah, she said her name was—spoke to Jasmine, she rested her hand lightly on Jasmine’s knee. Jason had said he liked girls the first time he’d helped Mitch get dressed. Sandy had made it pretty clear then that Mitch was off-limits, and Jason had said that wasn’t a problem because he was involved. As for Jasmine, Sandy wasn’t so sure. Jasmine flirted with the drag kings, so maybe Jasmine liked boys. And Mitch was a guy.
“Whatcha thinking, honey?” Mitch murmured, sliding an arm around Sandy’s waist as he settled a hip on the arm of the couch for support. He’d been using one crutch to get around, and he propped that against the back.
Sandy leaned into his body and tilted her head up to see his face. “Jasmine’s really hot, isn’t she.”
Mitch grinned. “Sizzlin’.”
“Phil,” Sandy whispered, indicating the small, hard-bodied drag king with the hint of five o’clock shadow, tight blue jeans that announced in no uncertain terms that he was a guy, and short-sleeved, retro striped shirt, “has the major hots for her.”
“As long as it’s her and not you,” Mitch growled as he dipped his head and kissed her behind her left ear. “All those guys are horny. I thought their tongues were gonna fall out when they first saw you.”
“They were just being guys,” Sandy said offhandedly. “At least they looked at my face before my tits.”
Mitch laughed softly. “It’s a tough choice.”
“You better think so.” Sandy dropped a quick kiss on his neck. “Is everything going okay?”
“Yeah, they all seem cool.”
“No questions about why you’re here?”
Mitch shook his head. “Jasmine already took care of that. They know she’s friends with Sloan and Michael, and that’s how I knew them. They offered to let me stay here for a few days until my leg’s better because of the elevator.”
“Good.” Sandy hooked an arm around his leg, absently stroking the inside of his thigh, still watching Phil talking to Jasmine. The young drag king’s bright eyes were fixed on Jasmine’s face, and although Sandy couldn’t hear the conversation, the tone of Phil’s voice telegraphed his excitement. He had it bad, that was plain to see. “Does Jasmine turn you on?”
“What?”
“You heard.”
“No,” Mitch said quickly.
Sandy gave him a look. “Something wrong with your hormones?”
He leaned down, pulling her close against his side as he bent his head to hers. “She’s gorgeous. And sexy. And the only woman who gets me hot, even a little, is you.”
“You know,” Sandy whispered, rubbing her mouth on the edge of his jaw, “you really learn fast.”
“Honey, it’s the truth.” Mitch smoothed a hand down her bare arm. She wore red satin slacks that nearly matched Jasmine’s and a lacy white bit of nothing on top that showed off her small, firm breasts to mouth-watering advantage. “Besides, you think I have energy for anyone else after what you do to me?”
Before Sandy could reply, a voice from across the room caught their attention.
“Can anybody come to this party?” Sloan asked, her hand in Michael’s.
Immediately, the three drag kings who made up the core of the Front Street Kings Drag Troupe jumped to their feet, their eyes fixed on Michael. With her hair down, in a faded gray workout T-shirt of Sloan’s and loose cotton pants, she was as naturally beautiful as a woman could be. Despite the lingering hints of trauma that shadowed her face, her eyes were clear and warm as she smiled at her unexpected guests.
“Hello, I’m Michael.” She held out her hand to the nearest king, Ken Dewar, who took her hand.
“Ma’am,” Ken murmured, and brushed his lips over her knuckles with courtly grace. “I’ve seen you at the club with Sloan, but she’s never introduced us.” He lifted bedroom eyes to hers, the corner of his mouth raised in a rakish smile. “Probably wise.”
Michael laughed, delighted at his charm. “So very nice to meet you. And I shall certainly take Sloan to task for not introducing us sooner.”
Ken tossed a grin to Sloan, who merely growled good-naturedly, before indicating his companions with a sweep of his arm. “These two outstanding fellows are Phil E. Pride and Dino.”
“Gentlemen,” Michael replied, offering her hand to each in turn. “I take it you all have everything you need? Food? Something to drink?”
“We’re great,” Dino said with just a hint of South Philly in his voice, hoisting his bottle of Black & Tan. “Jasmine took care of us.”
“Thank you,” Michael said as she leaned down to kiss Jasmine’s cheek. “Hello, Sarah.”
“Hi.” Sarah stood, sliding an arm around Michael’s waist. “You look terrific.”
“You’re a true friend to lie about that. Thanks.” Michael’s gaze went to Sloan, who stood talking to Ken with an arm draped over his shoulder in friendly companionship. “I feel wonderful, though.”
Sarah laughed. “Can’t imagine why. Sloan looks pretty contented too.”
Michael blushed and shushed her. “Quiet. We have guests.”
“I don’t think the boys would be shocked.”
“Maybe not. But I’d prefer not to make an announcement.”
“Fair enough.” Sarah cast an eye toward the sofa where Phil had taken her place next to Jasmine. “I see my girlfriend has another admirer. Sometimes I wonder why I let her out of the house alone.”
Michael followed her gaze and smiled. “You’re not really worried, are you? I mean, it all gets a bit confusing to me still, but Phil does know that Jasmine is, well, more than Jasmine.”
“Oh, sure. Phil knows Jasmine is a transvestite, just like Jasmine knows that Sloan is a lesbian and that Phil is a drag king. But that doesn’t stop Jasmine from teasing Sloan, or Phil from lusting after a sexy woman like Jasmine. Sometimes one reality just gives way to another, don’t you think?”
“Well,” Michael mused, “I know that Sloan finds Jasmine attractive and that it confuses her at times.”
Sarah tilted her head thoughtfully. “But you don’t? Find Jasmine attractive, I mean. And you’re a lesbian.”
<
br /> “Well, I think you’re very attractive, and I love you as a friend, but…well—”
“I don’t have a starring role in your fantasies?”
“Actually, no one does except Sloan. But that’s just me. Sloan,” Michael murmured, watching her lover grinning at something Sandy had just said, “is put together differently. She has a different kind of On button than I do.”
“And you’re not bothered by that?” Sarah’s tone was curious, not censuring.
“I can hardly be upset with her for something she can’t help.” Michael met Sarah’s eyes. “I trust her to put our relationship first before casual attractions.”
“I guess we’re pretty much in the same place, then. Jasmine is more a good friend than a lover, although now and then…” Sarah shrugged. “We cross lines.”
“Really? I’ve wondered.”
“Well, there are times when I’m watching Jasmine get ready to go out or up onstage performing, that I get this overwhelming desire to just…ravish her.” Sarah laughed self-consciously. “And then, when I do, right in the middle of it all…guess what I find.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Michael laughed as well and returned Sarah’s hug. “I think sometimes we just have to accept things the way they are, even if they’re not the way we think they will be. That seems to be the case more often than not around here.”
“Mmm. Especially tonight.” Sarah leaned near so as not to be overheard. “Mitch is certainly a surprise. The other guys look terrific, and I’ve known them all long enough that I don’t think of them as anything other than guys, but Mitch…Mitch is the most natural-looking drag king I’ve ever seen.”
“If I didn’t know,” Michael agreed, “I’d bet any amount of money that he’s Dell’s brother. The resemblance is there in exactly the same way it often is between brother and sister—similar features, but no confusion as to who is male and who is female.”
“Fascinating, isn’t it. His girlfriend is keeping a close eye on him too. She’s a little cutie.”
“Sandy.” Michael smiled fondly. “She’s very sweet and very capable. I also have the feeling that there’s very little of life that she hasn’t experienced.”
“So, do you know what’s going on?”
Struck by the serious tone in Sarah’s voice, Michael felt a wave of apprehension. “What do you mean?”
“I just thought Sloan might have said something. Jason has been working nonstop since the end of last week, and I know they’re close to wrapping up this big case. And Jasmine is somehow involved.”
“And she hasn’t said?”
“Oh, as much as she ever does. I’m just facilitating things down at the club, sweetie. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ruin my manicure doing anything dangerous.”
“Why is it that Sloan says very much the same thing—minus the manicure, of course.”
“Because we’re just girls, and they’re all big, tough superheroes?” Sarah’s voice held a hint of exasperation mingled with affection. “Even Jasmine.”
Michael sighed. “I can see that Sloan and I are going to have another talk.”
“Uh-oh. Did I just get her into trouble?”
“Oh,” Michael said softly, “she’ll survive. After all, she’s a big, tough superhero.”
*
At the sound of Michael’s laughter, Sloan tuned out the conversation with Ken and half turned in her lover’s direction. It had been too long since she’d heard Michael’s voice free from pain, and her heart tightened at the lilting sound. Michael stood arm in arm with Sarah, and the two were obviously sharing a private joke. At that instant, Michael met her eyes, and Sloan nearly staggered at the impact of her lover’s gaze. It was as if Michael reached across the distance between them and caressed her. It was always that way. No one ever touched her the way Michael did.
“She’s...ah…incredible,” Ken remarked as if reading Sloan’s thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“The first time I saw the two of you at one of the shows, I figured it must be a mistake. You couldn’t have gotten that lucky.”
“Still can’t believe it myself.”
“So—it’s nice of you to help Mitch out.”
Slowly, Sloan searched Ken’s eyes, appreciating the unspoken question. “He got pretty banged up.”
“So Jasmine said. I remember him tearing out of the club that night. Funny, I thought I saw his girlfriend there earlier too. Of course, it could’ve been someone else, but she’s so hot, she’s hard to forget.”
Sloan regarded Sandy, who still sat within the circle of Mitch’s arms, chatting now with Dino. “I don’t know every girl Mitch is seeing.”
“He did mention he wasn’t married,” Ken said. “But if you ask me, she’s got him by the roots. And he doesn’t look like he minds.”
Before Sloan could formulate an answer to that, Ken continued, “I’ve known Jasmine a long time. All the Kings have. Whatever she’s into, we’re there. Just so you know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Before you leave, I want to give you a couple of numbers to call. Just in case...you ever need to.”
“That would be fine. Now,” Ken said with a slow smile, “I’m going to go to invite the very beautiful Michael to one of our shows. Front-row seats, this time. Courtesy of the Front Street Kings.”
“You guys are dangerous,” Sloan complained.
Ken raised a brow and shrugged insouciantly. “We have to maintain our reputations.”
Sloan watched him walk away, appreciating that they had gained another ally in the underground warfare to come.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday
“Well, hello,” Catherine said with a smile. “You look much better than the last time I saw you.”
Mitchell hooked her cane over the arm of the chair in front of Catherine’s desk and settled into it, keeping her left leg straight as she did. “Thanks. I feel a lot better too.”
“How’s the leg?”
“Pretty much healed. The stitches stay in for another week, but,” she indicated the cane with a tilt of her chin, “no more crutches.”
“Wonderful.” Catherine eased back in her chair and crossed her legs. As was her habit on the days she saw clients, she’d dressed conservatively in a two-piece taupe brushed-silk suit and low heels. Mitchell’s file, unopened, was centered on her desk blotter. “Are you still at Sloan and Michael’s?”
“Probably for another day. Then I’m going back to my…apartment.”
“The one in Sandy’s building?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Does that mean that you’re going back to work as well?”
Mitchell shifted in the chair and studied the knees of her black chinos, which she’d worn with a white, open-collared oxford shirt and black loafers for her day of doctor’s visits. “Well, I can’t go back to work until I’m cleared by you.”
“What about Dr. Torveau?” Catherine asked, showing no reaction to the subtle evasion. “Has she released you to work?”
“Not in so many words,” Mitchell admitted. “She said I could do anything I wanted except ride my motorcycle and lift weights.”
“Anything? That’s excellent.”
Mitchell brightened and sat up straighter.
“Do you think she meant physically subduing a suspect?” Catherine’s tone was mild, her eyes kind.
“She didn’t mention that, exactly.”
“But you did talk with her about the kinds of things you need to be able to do in the line of duty, right?”
“I told her about most of it.” Mitchell’s voice was pitched low.
Catherine said nothing.
Mitchell sighed. “Actually, I told her about working with Jason on the computer traces.”
“Rather sedentary.”
“I didn’t say I had a desk job…” Mitchell raised her eyes to Catherine’s. “Not in so many words.”
Catherine nodded.
“But I might have led her think it was…mos
tly…a desk job.”
“Why did you let her think that, do you think?”
“Because I want to get back to work.” Mitchell forcefully enunciated each word, as if the importance of what she was saying couldn’t be overemphasized.
“I know you do. But why tomorrow and not a week from tomorrow?”
“Because this is my big chance, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Big chance. Tracking down the rest of the Internet pornographers?”
Mitchell shook her head impatiently. “No. I mean, that’s part of it. But that’s not… that’s not what I’m going to be doing.” She leaned forward, her hands loosely fisted. “I’m going to be working undercover. That’s a big deal for a detective. Especially a rookie detective like me. I’m going to be going after the intel that could break this case. Not just the pornographers, but maybe the whole prostitution ring. It’s big, and the lieutenant is putting me right in the middle of it.”
It’s big and it’s dangerous and you can’t wait. Catherine had worked with police officers long before she’d fallen in love with one, and she’d rarely seen one who didn’t live for the excitement. Rebecca, she believed, thrived on the hunt, and although that drive was instinctual, her deeper motivations were philosophical. Rebecca sought justice. She wondered what Dellon searched for. “Why is it good?”
“Are you kidding me? This is a chance to really do something. To put away some of the scum who use girls like they’re disposable—to be wadded up and tossed in the toilet after they’ve come in th…” Mitchell colored and looked away. After a second, she said quietly, “Sorry.”
“For what, Dellon?” Catherine asked just as quietly.
“Look, it’s my job. This is an important case, and I want to do my job.”
Catherine considered the unanswered question and then decided to let it pass for the moment. She’d learned in their previous sessions that Dellon often revealed more in what she didn’t say than in anything she might if pressured. And the young detective was pale and shaking, a vivid reminder that she had been out of the hospital less than a week. “I know how much the job means to you. But you understand my concern for your safety.”