by Radclyffe
Pam pulled out two Band-Aids and affixed them to Magdalena’s finger. Reluctantly she let go of the slender hand. “There. You need to keep it elevated a bit.”
“Yes. Well.” Magdalena merely sat there, scanning Pam’s face.
Pam couldn’t move. Magdalena’s gaze was a caress against her cheeks, as frightening as it was wonderful. The ice blue in Magdalena’s eyes was not cold anymore. Instead her eyes radiated warmth—or was it heat?—and Pam wanted to stay in this wondrous state forever, but of course that was impossible.
“A-anything else I can do for you, Magdalena?”
“A loaded question right now, don’t you agree?” Magdalena’s lids lowered slowly and rose again.
“Loaded?” Pam sucked her lower lip between her teeth.
“You sit there, kneeling at my feet, and ask if there’s anything else you can do for me. You hold my hand so tenderly and tend to me as if I were made of glass—as if I was somehow incredibly valuable. It can be misconstrued. It can be interpreted as something less than innocent.”
Pam couldn’t breathe normally. How transparent had she been that Magdalena spoke such impossible words? Was she about to ridicule her, fire her, blacklist her? “Magdalena…”
Magdalena cupped Pam’s cheek. “Your eyes will be your downfall if you don’t learn to hide your thoughts better, Pamela. I can read you very well, and if I can, so can others. Still, I admit I hope you don’t look at anyone else this exact way. That would be most upsetting.”
She ran her thumbs under Pam’s eyes, and only then did Pam realize she was crying a little, trembling under Magdalena’s gentle touch. Afraid to ask, Pam still had to know.
“How…what do you mean, upsetting?”
“I simply wouldn’t like it if you looked at someone else the way you look at me. As if you really care. And sometimes as if you might pounce on me.”
Pam could’ve sworn her heart stopped at Magdalena’s incredible words. “Pounce?”
“Do you deny desiring me, Pamela?” Magdalena whispered. “I’ve seen it in your eyes, on your face, for quite some time.” She laced her fingers through Pam’s hair. “Your beautiful chocolate brown eyes, they melt when I look at you. Makes me wonder how it feels for you.”
“Right now? I’m ready to faint.”
Magdalena chuckled and some of Pam’s tension drained away. She relaxed as Magdalena caressed her hair, down her neck, then cupped her shoulders.
“I do care, Magdalena. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I never intended for you to know.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.” Magdalena sounded taken aback. “And though I can understand why you’d err on the side of caution, I’m…I’m glad I know.”
Whoa! How could this be happening? If Magdalena only knew how she felt, how much she wanted her, she might throw her out for sure. Shaken, Pam pulled away, needing to put some distance between herself and Magdalena, but Magdalena slid off the chair and knelt next to her, their eyes now at the same level.
Pam lost what little breath she had left and just stared. Magdalena slowly wrapped her arms around Pam’s shoulders. “Am I wrong to think kissing you would be welcome?” She tilted her head just so. “May I, Pamela?”
Shivering in Magdalena’s arms—Magdalena’s arms—Pam only nodded. Her voice was way beyond malfunctioning. When Magdalena leaned closer, Pam closed her eyes, only to snap them open again, not wanting to miss a thing. Still, when Magdalena’s lips pressed against hers, she couldn’t keep eyes open. Closing them, she inhaled Magdalena’s scent and hugged Magdalena tighter. If this was the only time she’d be allowed to experience this with Magdalena, she’d make the most of it.
Magdalena moaned into the kiss and pushed both hands into Pam’s hair, lifting her mouth away only enough to change the angle of the kiss. She ran the tip of her tongue along Pam’s lower lip and Pam opened to her, wanting so badly to deepen the kiss and taste her. Carefully, Pam met the tip of Magdalena’s tongue with hers. Her thighs quivered and she clung to Magdalena, reveling in the sweetness of her.
“Pamela,” Magdalena murmured against her lips. “My god, this…I didn’t expect this.”
Unable to form words, Pam abandoned all caution and wrapped her fingers in Magdalena’s hair, a silky soft anchor.
“I didn’t expect you to penetrate all my defenses.” Magdalena pulled back and frowned. “I never thought I’d fall head over heels for a girl half my age on the floor of a Belmont loo.”
Her normally dormant British accent broke through and Pam couldn’t help herself. Leaning her forehead against Magdalena’s shoulder, she laughed uncontrollably.
“Really, Pamela. I fail to see the humor—”
“Come on, Magdalena. The way you said ‘loo’…with such disdain. It was funny.” Pamela could tell Magdalena wasn’t really annoyed. She wore that tiny smirk showing she was seconds away from a real smile.
“I suppose.” And there it came, a broad, blinding and rare smile.
Pam had never seen anything more beautiful than Magdalena Cole smiling happily. She just had to kiss the corners of that smile. While she was at it, she continued down Magdalena’s neck and finished with a long, smoldering kiss to the indentation below Magdalena’s neck. “You’re right. I do desire you, Magda-lena. I can’t help it any more than I can help the reason I desire you. Now that you know, will you allow me to prove that I can still work for you?”
“For the time being.” Magdalena’s cheeks flushed with color and her eyes glowed. “If this…this desire we are experiencing continues and we decide we want something, um, more permanent, you can’t stay on.”
“Oh.” Pam’s brain had nearly imploded at the words desire we are experiencing and her heart nearly exploded when Magdalena said something more permanent.
“By then you’ll have earned your right to receive a very satisfactory letter of recommendation.”
“Ah. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You may still screw things up.” Her expression was deadpan but her tone playful. A new tone, one Pam liked.
“I won’t, Magdalena.” Pam kissed her. “I won’t.”
Cupping Pam’s cheeks, Magdalena’s expression softened. “Workwise, I’ll string you up if you do, but in private, that is another matter. Regardless of my reputation, and the testimony of my ex-husband, I don’t use people I love. I don’t deliberately take them for granted or mistreat them. Nor do I pass judgment and show them the door if they should happen to screw up.”
Running her fingertips along Magdalena’s cheek, Pam smiled gently. “Did you say people you love?”
Blushing, Magdalena closed her eyes briefly. “I did, didn’t I?”
“I think you did.”
“Am I to understand that you love me, Pamela?”
“Yes,” Pam said, taking the leap, somehow knowing it was necessary that she do so. Pam didn’t wait for Magdalena to reply, but stood and held out her hand.
Magdalena took it and rose to her feet with her usual elegance. She checked her watch. “Might I suggest you come home with me? We can have dinner together and discuss this unforeseen turn of events.”
Pam smiled, the tenderness welling in her heart nearly choking off her words. “Only you would call making out on the bathroom floor an unforeseen turn of events. And yes, I would love to have dinner with you.”
“Well.” Magdalena kissed Pam firmly. “Let’s get our coats. I can’t wait to have you alone.”
Pam turned to leave, but a slender hand cupped her neck.
“Why can’t I keep my hands off you, Pamela?” Magdalena murmured. “It’s as if they have a life and mind of their own when you’re around.”
“I don’t mind. I love your hands.” Pam kissed Magdalena’s tempting lips. “And this unforeseen turn of events has made me hungry.”
Magdalena gave that genuine smile again. “You do look famished.”
Pam laughed again. Famished was one word for how she felt about this woman. She could think of ma
ny, many more.
WATERFALL
LT Masters
The sun wasn’t quite up yet and I shouldn’t have been either. I stared at Brad, studying his breathing pattern. He was definitely asleep. I found my hiking boots, tugged them on, crawled out of the tent and stretched. Someone five foot nine isn’t meant to sleep in a five-foot tent, and I still couldn’t believe I was in the middle of nowhere, sleeping on the ground. No one would ever believe “Ms. Professional” would be doing the things I had the past two days. No restroom, no shower, what was I thinking? I always had trouble saying no to Brad, who was on a mission to rescue me from the dull routine of the big city, something he detested but I was just fine with. I let him convince me to spend the weekend with him in the mountains. Little did I know spending the weekend with him also included mosquitoes, ticks, fleas and his ex-girlfriend, who happened to be “Ms. Wilderness.” When she started talking about the exact right way to build a fire from dry needles and dung or something, I decided to put pinecones in her sleeping bag.
I rifled through my bag and scribbled a quick note, which I left on the cooler under a roll of dew-moistened toilet paper. Then I grabbed my backpack and started walking down the trail. Everyone in the campsite was still asleep, and it would be at least an hour before anyone realized I was gone. If I moved quickly, within the hour I could hitch a ride back to town at the trail-head. I rolled up the sleeves on my red flannel shirt and noticed my nails. Damn it, the nice work that was done two days prior wasn’t at all evident in the chipped, flaking red varnish. Nope. Time to go. He could enjoy getting dirty with his ex, whose nails weren’t a concern for her.
I don’t recall how long I walked, but the trail seemed quite a lot longer than it had two days before. I rested against a pine tree to catch my breath. Beads of perspiration were already forming on my neck. I pulled my hair up and secured it with a rubber band and thought of my shower at home and how good it would feel. Frustrated, tired, thirsty and sick of the great outdoors, I sat down on a rock with my face in my hands and cried. I wasn’t usually the damsel-in-distress type, but it occurred to me that if I was lost, they wouldn’t know how to find me. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. Deep breathing helped me relax and I dozed off. A sharp noise startled me awake. I jumped up and smacked my head against a low-hanging branch and fell to the ground with a thud. I lay there stunned, unwilling to move as the world spun far too fast and bile rose in the back of my throat. Pain in my ankle shot up my leg, adding to the nausea-inducing spinning. The light turned to a pinprick and then went out.
When I woke, I opened my eyes only to be greeted by the deep blue sky above me. I attempted to sit up but strong hands were on my arms, holding me down.
“Take it easy,” a woman said. “You’re okay.”
Frightened, I lay still as she dabbed a cold cloth on my forehead and face.
“Do you feel all right?” she asked.
I attempted to speak but couldn’t. My throat was so dry and tight all I managed was a squeak.
“Here,” she said, lifting her canteen from around her neck. “I bet you could use some water. Are you hurt anywhere?”
I moved a bit and flinched with pain. “My ankle. And my head feels worse than a tequila hangover.”
Immediately she began unlacing my hiking boot.
“Yep,” she said, turning my ankle in her hands, “you’ve twisted it good. Got some major swelling here. Better get some ice on it.” She opened her backpack and removed an ice pack from a stocked first aid kit.
“Looks like you’re prepared.” I was impressed with the contents, which included everything from ammonia inhalants to zoo animal crackers.
She nodded. “You never know what’s lurking in these woods. Or who you’ll find passed out under a tree. I hike here a lot.” She pressed the pack against my ankle and I jumped from the cold.
She shifted her weight to sit cross-legged, my foot resting in her lap. “Are you comfortable? Hopefully we can get this swelling down so you can walk.”
I figured I should ask her questions, do the small-talk thing. Hell, introduce myself and find out who she was. But instead I closed my eyes again. At least I wasn’t alone, and this woman clearly knew what she was doing. She’d get me back to civilization and a hot shower in no time. I drifted to sleep.
When I woke I was alone. The sun had disappeared behind the trees and shadows were beginning to blanket the forest. I shivered, unsure if it was from the chill or fear. I sat up and glanced around. Where was the woman? Had it all been a dream? Was I really alone? In my panic I attempted to stand, but when I did the pain in my ankle forced me to cry out.
“Don’t do that!” Within seconds she was beside me, grasping my elbow. “Don’t put your weight on it.”
I leaned on her for support. Her short black hair was damp and her skin against my arm was cool and clammy. “You’re wet,” I whispered. There was something intense and ready about her, like an animal in the wild. I was suddenly very aware of just how attractive she was.
She stared down at me, silent.
I felt lost, consumed by the blue depths of her eyes, and my body swayed toward her. She grabbed me tight and lowered me back to the ground. Her thigh brushed against mine. The electricity sparked by the contact was just fear and a desire not to be left alone. That was all.
“You’re in no condition to walk.” She sat back on her heels. “And that’s a nasty bump on your head. Based on the way you were out, I’m thinking concussion. Guess we’ll have to stay here tonight.”
I started to protest but decided it was pointless. What was I going to do? Hobble into the woods and get lost again?
“My camp isn’t far,” she continued. “I’ll go get some things and be back shortly.”
“No! Don’t leave me here.” My pride fled at the thought of being alone, and I didn’t even care that my voice had gone octaves higher than an opera singer’s.
She glanced at me and smiled. “Not a woman of the woods, huh?”
I shook my head. “Kinda obvious, isn’t it?”
“Well,” she said, looking up and down my body in a way that made me flush, “hiking alone without water is a dead giveaway.”
I felt the color rise to my face and thought I should tell her about Brad and how much I hated the woods but decided against it. If she knew I had friends out there, she might take me back to them. And for some reason, I really didn’t want to leave her just yet.
She produced a sandwich and an apple from her backpack and shared it with me. When we had finished, she stood and brushed herself off. I couldn’t help but notice how fit she was, how lithe and lean. I was tall, but she was even taller. I looked at her face and was mortified when I realized she’d been watching me stare at her body.
She grinned. “I’ll be gone half an hour, maybe an hour, tops. I need to at least grab something to sleep on. My camp isn’t far, but your ankle is still way too swollen for you to walk on it. So we’ll have to stay here. I’m Jordan, by the way.”
“Claire.”
She waved as she loped off into the woods and I stayed quiet, knowing that if I opened my mouth I’d beg her not to leave again, and I knew she was right. The last thing I wanted to do was sleep totally uncovered in the open air, which was beginning to feel strangely claustrophobic. What the hell is wrong with me? Who gets hot for a stranger when they’re lost and alone in a forest? Me, evidently. She wasn’t gone long, but I still breathed easier when she got back.
She unrolled her sleeping bag. “I only have one, but lucky for us, it’s a double.” She cleared the ground of all the sticks and stones.
I was a bit nervous about sharing a sleeping bag with a stranger, but nonetheless I was thankful I wasn’t alone.
Jordan removed her boots, socks and shirt. I looked away as she released her belt and unbuttoned her cargo shorts.
“Okay, now for you.”
Startled, I glanced at her. She was standing in front of me in her sports bra and teddy-bear-covered box
er shorts. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey,” she said, “it’s my roughing-it attire. You shouldn’t sleep in the clothes you’re wearing during the day if you can help it. That way you’ve got dry clothes to put on in the morning.”
I extended my arms, figuring the wood nymph would know what she was talking about. She pulled me up and I stumbled forward against her. Our bodies were in full contact, her breasts pressed firmly against mine, our thighs touching. Her fingertips grazed my buttcheek. Immediately I pulled away.
“Sorry,” I muttered, still leaning on her for support but trying to put some distance between us. I’d never in my life been so flustered in another woman’s proximity.
She smiled as though she knew what I was thinking. “What assortment of these clothes do we need to get rid of?”
Since I wasn’t wearing a bra, the T-shirt was definitely staying on. I untied the flannel shirt around my waist and let it fall to the ground. “This, I guess. And my shorts…” I wobbled as I shifted my balance to undo my shorts and she stopped me.
“Brace yourself on my shoulder.” She swiftly unhooked my belt and unbuttoned my shorts and they fell around my ankles. She pulled them away, set them to the side, and lowered her gaze to my black thong. “Much better. You’ll be more comfortable now.”
Her voice was deep, throaty. Without warning she grabbed my T-shirt and tugged it upward. I felt my arms go up and the shirt slide over my head. It was as though I had no mind of my own, no willpower. I stood bathed in the dusky sunset light, my breasts exposed, my nipples hard. What was happening to me? Who was this woman? She stared at my breasts, her own breathing ragged. My body ached for her touch and I had a sudden longing to feel her mouth on my nipples, her hands roaming my body. I’m insane. Certifiably. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought, and this is all a really good dream.