“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice. While my peers were out partying in college, I was writing little shareware programs to pay my way through school.”
“Where’d you learn?” Mel continued to rub her thumb in distracting patterns over Regan’s hand.
Is she actually interested in this stuff? Regan stared uncertainly across the table. Just don’t start talking her ear off about your geeky hobbies. How many women have you bored to tears with that stuff?
“I taught myself in high school,” she said, keeping it brief. “I spent a lot of time in my head during my formative years. Do you like computers?”
“I love them. I mean, I don’t know much about software or anything, and I’m baffled if it stops working, but I have a kind of ignorant fascination with them. They’re not a big part of my job, though, so I don’t get to use them very much.”
She might just be the perfect woman. It was possible. Regan wasn’t looking for a total geek, just a woman who could appreciate that her hobbies didn’t make her an insufferable loser. Unwilling to push her luck despite the encouraging signs, she changed the subject. “What do you do?”
“I’m a cop,” Mel answered. Her voice was a bit short, and no further information was forthcoming.
“If you tell me you’ve got the uniform and the handcuffs and all that jazz, you’ll become my personal sexual fantasy.” Regan startled herself with the declaration.
“Oh. A girl who appreciates the usefulness of handcuffs?”
Regan’s boldness all but evaporated under the heat of Mel’s seductive gaze. “So do you like being a cop?” she asked feebly.
Mel chuckled a little at this obvious attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I guess so,” she said after a moment. “My dad was a cop. So was my uncle. I didn’t really think about doing anything else, from the time I was a kid.”
“Well, I’m also impressed. I don’t think I could do it…it must be tough.”
“Yeah.” Mel’s eyes darkened. “Sometimes.”
Regan sensed a definite lack of enthusiasm from her companion. Great. Maybe now you can start talking about nuclear warfare to brighten the mood a little. “So you never told me what you’re doing in a straight bar,” she said. New subject.
Mel’s eyes brightened. Clearly, social trivia was more to her liking. “My college roommate is getting married in a month and a half. She wanted to get together with some of her girlfriends before the big event. I think we’re supposed to be having fun here. To be honest, this kind of gals’ night out is highly unusual for me.”
“Must be fate, huh?” Regan giggled and tossed back the rest of her drink in two big swallows.
“Hey, now.” Mel traced her fingers over Regan’s outstretched arm. “You’re not going to get drunk on me here, are you?”
At the casual question, the taste of the alcohol finally registered in her brain. “No, I’m done. I’ve reached that point where I realize how much I can’t stand drinking.”
“So why do it?”
“I’m a little nervous right now.” Of course, that whole arm-stroking thing helps.
“Please don’t be nervous.” Mel’s fingers closed lightly on Regan’s forearm, and she leaned forward and pressed impossibly soft lips to hers.
The impetuous move shattered Regan’s reservations, and she returned the slow, easy kiss without hesitation. Mel broke the sweet contact after only a moment and wrapped strong arms around Regan, who returned the hug with unthinking gratitude. She was perfectly aware of the thrill of full breasts pressing against her own, of the firm suppleness of Mel’s body, but it was the unexpected tenderness of this gesture that struck her most forcibly.
Easing back slightly, she teased, “I’m guessing you don’t have any problems finding dates, do you? I’m not sure you could be any more charming if you tried.”
Mel smirked, waggling lascivious eyebrows. “Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
A hand on Regan’s shoulder stopped her reply.
“Hey, Regan, can I talk to you for a minute?” Adam stood above her, giving her a goofy smile. He shot a brief glance at Mel, obviously agog.
“Sure.” Regan gave Mel an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Adam said as they moved out of earshot.
“You should be. What happened? The blonde wasn’t interested?”
“Maybe I wasn’t interested.”
“Uh-huh. So what’s up?”
“Well, Dan and I were kind of thinking of leaving. We’re not exactly having your luck, and Dan wants to get up early to start working on his game, so…” He shifted, looking a little awkward.
“And me without a designated driver…” Regan supplied.
“Unless you do have one.” He nodded toward Mel, who was leaning back in her chair and twirling her straw between lazy fingers.
She looked relaxed and achingly sensual, and Regan despaired at the idea of leaving now, before she could live out the rest of this amazing dream. “Can you give me a couple of minutes?” she asked and didn’t bother to wait for Adam’s response.
Eyes locked to Mel’s, she returned to the table and sat down in the chair next to her.
“Problem?” Mel reached out to tuck an errant lock of auburn hair behind Regan’s ear.
“My friends are ready to call it a night, and my designated driver is summoning me.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“Not really.” She offered Mel a shy smile.
“Well, I can drive you home. That is, if you think your friends will feel comfortable entrusting your virtue to me.”
“I’m the guardian of my own virtue, lady, and I can assure you it’s the least of my concerns.” Regan turned and signaled Adam that she would be remaining.
“Have I told you lately how absolutely darling you are?” Mel asked.
“Not nearly enough. Have I told you lately what an insufferable flirt you are?”
“You love it,” Mel drawled. “You just tell me you don’t.”
“Was I complaining?” Regan answered in as innocent a voice as she could muster.
Mel broke into a too-wide grin. “Banter, even. You’re good.”
I’ve never bantered with someone I’ve just met in my entire life. Sure, I’m kinda drunk, but this still seems so…easy, so…not that scary. “It takes two to banter,” Regan said. “And to tango, as well, or so I’ve heard.”
Mel chuckled at this and slid a hand forward until she touched Regan’s fingers. “I like you,” she said and smiled at her.
Regan almost stopped breathing. She couldn’t believe her dorky joke had earned her such a smile. Not playfully flirtatious, not seductive, not even compassionate; this smile was something else entirely, open and genuine and deeply, deeply warm. “Thank you,” she said.
Mel broke their eye contact, and looked down at their clasped hands as if she had surprised herself. When she met Regan’s eyes again, something passed between them, a kind of tenuous, unspoken bond, as close to a miracle as Regan had ever experienced. She felt like falling to her knees and thanking the universe for it.
“So do you want to get out of here?” Mel asked softly.
More than anything. Regan leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Yes.”
*
“Leave it to you to find the one other lesbian in this place.”
Mel smiled at Jane, the bride-to-be responsible for dragging her to the straight bar she was now anxious to leave. “Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of women with latent lesbian tendencies here tonight,” she said, glancing around.
The bar was near closing and a steady stream of people filed out the door, not far from where she was standing outside with her tipsy friend. About twenty feet away, Regan waited next to Mel’s motorcycle.
“Latent until you’re through with them, right?”
“What can I say? I like helping people get in touch with themselves.” Mel threw an arm around Jane’s shoulders and gave he
r a friendly hug, conscious of several pairs of eyes burning a hole through her cheek.
Jane’s annoying friends stood a few yards away, near a row of parked cars, pretending not to eavesdrop. That’s right, ladies. Stare at the dyke sideshow. Step right up. Mel didn’t bother to give them a look.
“So did you have a completely horrible time?” Jane asked.
“Nah.” Mel cast a quick apologetic look at Regan for the delay. “I can’t say I’m sorry I came.”
“You’re just saying that because of the redhead, aren’t you?”
Mel grimaced. Am I a complete asshole for taking off with a one-night stand that I met at Jane’s little gathering? “I’m sorry,” she said, aware that she was treading on thin ice. She and her former college roommate were distant at best, but Jane was still the closest thing that Mel had to a friend. She wasn’t certain how she’d managed not to alienate her yet. “I swear, I hadn’t planned on—”
“I’m not upset,” Jane said. “You are who you are, right?”
A surly bitch that sits in silence all night until she spots a tasty prospect for the evening? Mel had repeated the same mantra throughout an endless string of casual affairs: I am who I am, right?
Jane stood on her tiptoes and gave Mel a kiss on the cheek. “She’s waiting for you. Go get ’em, tiger.”
How many times had Jane said that to her in college, an encouraging send-off as yet another conquest beckoned? Leaving her friend, she joined Regan, who was staring at the Harley Sportster like it was going to reach out and bite her. Mel smiled at the trepidation in her eyes, and at the way she bit her lip. Regan, she acknowledged, was a woman she wouldn’t normally consider her type. In fact, if she’d been at one of her favorite bars, Mel doubted she would have approached the redhead. Mel’s “type” ran the gamut of physical appearance and personality, but usually excluded shy women. Then again, shy had never looked so good on anyone before.
“I promise you, I’m a good driver,” she said. “I’ve only hit little old ladies…oh, hell, once or twice.”
Regan flashed her an uneasy grin. “It’s not the little old ladies I’m worried about. It’s the trembling young computer geek.”
“I promise I’ll take good care of her.” Mel rested a hand on the seat of her bike. She wrapped her free arm around Regan and drew her close, leaning to whisper in her ear, “I have plans for her, after all.”
“You do?” Regan squeaked.
Mel grinned. Yeah, she’s a little drunk. “I do.”
She had decided she wanted to spend the night with Regan while they were dancing and, anticipating what was to come, she felt a strange mixture of desire and tenderness. The desire was familiar, the tenderness, not so much.
Mel pulled on her helmet and climbed onto the bike, planting her feet firmly on the ground. She reached out and took Regan’s hand, instructing, “Put your left foot on the pedal.” Regan did as she was told, tottering unsteadily. “Now swing your right leg over the seat and, you know…straddle it.”
Regan gave her an admonishing look. “Don’t enjoy this so much.”
“Sorry.” She wasn’t.
A pink tongue poked out from between full red lips as Regan concentrated. With surprising agility, she eased herself onto the motorcycle and hovered above the seat for a moment before settling down. Once in position, she rocked her hips back and forth a couple of times to get comfortable.
Mel was beyond turned on. She needed to get this woman home, quick. “Put your helmet on,” she managed. “And hang on tight.” She kick-started the bike, grinning as it roared to life and Regan’s arms grabbed her around the middle. Glancing over her shoulder, she yelled, “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Regan shouted back.
Mel drove the bike out of the parking area, turned onto the street, and gave it some gas. Regan’s house was less than a couple of miles from the bar and the route was familiar; a good knowledge of Detroit and the surrounding suburbs was one of the few perks of her job.
Regan’s arms wrapped even tighter around her waist in reaction to yet another sharply taken turn and Mel reveled in the feeling of soft breasts pressed against her back. Regan didn’t need to know how safe and slow Mel was making the trip, not when a full-body hug was the reward every time she leaned into a turn a little more than was necessary. The first time had been unintentional, but the sweet contact she’d received as a consequence had been all the motivation she needed.
Jesus, what was wrong with her? Had she ever smiled this much before? She liked Regan. She really did. And while she knew that fact wouldn’t give most people pause, it was earth-shattering for her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bedded someone she actually liked. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone she really liked.
It was scary. Regan was the most real person Mel had met in as long as she could remember. Or, at least, she certainly seemed to be, given their short talk. It felt almost wrong that she would soon end their evening together the same way she ended so many others with women she would never see again.
If she was the type to spend more than one night with a woman, Mel decided Regan would be the kind of woman she’d choose, without a doubt. Down to earth, friendly, open, witty. The feeling unnerved her, and she blew out a breath, ordering herself to snap out of it. Regan was cute, goofy, and unknowingly sexy and if Mel was lucky, she’d turn out to be one of those shy girls who were amazing in bed. She made the turn onto Regan’s street, slowing down as they entered the subdivision.
“It’s the third house on the left, thank God in heaven,” Regan said, relief evident.
Grinning, Mel steered the Harley into the indicated driveway, slowing to a halt next to a small Colonial-style house. The silence was heavy when she turned off the motorcycle and lowered the kickstand with a gentle foot. She eased herself off the bike and turned to face Regan, who was still sitting on the seat, eyes closed and face pale.
Mel stared at her for a moment, something unfamiliar tugging at her lips. “Delivered in one piece, as promised.” She reached out and caressed a cool cheek with her hand. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Regan opened her eyes. She looked rattled. “So I’ve decided that maybe motorcycles should remain safely within the realm of my lurid sexual fantasies.”
“Oh, come on. You’re not going to tell me that wasn’t at least a little fun?”
Regan appeared to give the question careful consideration. “If by fun you mean starkly terrifying, then, yeah, maybe.”
She moved to dismount, but Mel stopped her with a firm hand to the chest. “Motorcycles are fun. Let me show you.”
Regan glanced around at the dark houses in her neighborhood, then looked back up at Mel. “Show me?”
“Yeah.” Mel climbed back onto her bike, sitting backward on the seat to face her dubious companion.
Regan eyed the silent rows of houses again. “How? I mean, show me, how?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” Mel closed the distance between them, capturing Regan’s lips in a fiery kiss.
Regan tasted slightly of alcohol, and just as she had when they’d danced, she seemed stiff at first, then she relaxed and gained confidence, moaning into Mel’s mouth, sliding her tongue along her upper lip. She wrapped slim arms around Mel’s shoulders, scooting forward on the seat to press her body into Mel’s powerful frame.
Mel burned with arousal, her fingers tingling with the need to touch Regan. She could feel the same need coursing through the woman in her arms. Regan’s hands traced dizzying patterns over her shoulders and down her back. Her own hands explored soft hips and the gentle swell of a breast. She took Regan’s lower lip between her teeth and tugged a little, unleashing a moan from Regan that nearly made her come right there. Jesus, if they didn’t slow down Regan would bring her off right in the driveway.
With considerable effort, Mel pulled away and gulped some much-needed air. She shifted on her seat, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing betwee
n her legs. Opposite her, Regan breathed raggedly, eyes closed and lips swollen.
Mel reached out to trace her thumb over Regan’s eyebrow, her fingers curling around to tangle in auburn hair. “See,” she said.
Regan stared back at her with unveiled tenderness. It was not the kind of look Mel was used to getting from women. She was used to seeing desire, and playfulness, and occasionally coy innocence, but never the genuine warmth she now saw.
Mel lowered her eyes, for some reason feeling less relaxed than she usually did in these situations. “Why don’t we go inside and start our night?” she asked.
Regan’s silence lasted just long enough to make her really nervous. “I…yes, but does it…I mean, um…”
God, the shy thing was cute. “What?” Mel asked. “Does what?”
“Does it have to be just one night?”
It wasn’t that Mel had never been asked the question before. But women usually waited until after an evening’s passion had been spent before springing it on her, at which time she never had a problem telling them the truth. Yes, it does. No, we can’t. I never promised you anything more. What staggered Mel now was the possibility of a different answer: I don’t want it to be.
Panic kicked in. I need to get out of here. I need to go be alone for a while. “Listen, I—”
Regan’s eyes shone with stormy emotion, and the blush that rose on her cheeks was visible in the moonlight. “I just fucked this up, didn’t I?”
Mel flinched at Regan’s naked vulnerability. Christ, that was a pretty brave thing she just did, wasn’t it? Mel felt about three feet tall. The woman she was with had just taken a chance because she felt something—something maybe Mel could feel, too. But instead of facing those feelings, she wanted to escape as fast as she could, betraying the trust she’d just been shown. Way to be an asshole, Mel.
Mel sighed and steeled her nerve, not sure what the hell she was doing. “No, you didn’t fuck anything up.”
Infinite Loop Page 2