by Carsen Taite
A few moments later, the door swung open and Campbell sucked in a breath. Wynne was beautiful every day, but laid-back Wynne was next level.
“You’re early.”
“I am. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Wynne pulled the door open wider. “I’m almost ready. Do you want something to drink while I finish up?”
Campbell followed Wynne into the house, noting that Wynne had invited her in, unlike the last time she’d been here. “A glass of water would be great, but I can get it if you just show me the kitchen.”
Wynne hesitated for a second before answering. “Okay, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Can I get you something while I’m in there?”
“I’m good.” Wynne led her to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything you see, although I’ll warn you I don’t have much on hand,” she said before disappearing into the back of the house.
Campbell found a glass, filled it from the faucet, and walked back into the living room. Wynne’s house was smaller than hers, but nicely furnished. The furniture was either new or hardly used, and unlike her own place, it was pretty much devoid of anything personal, like photos or knickknacks. It was also squeaky clean, and Campbell wondered if Wynne spent her free time cleaning or if she had a maid service. On her salary at Worth Ingram, she could certainly afford one, and it made sense not to waste what little free time she had cleaning house. Campbell grimaced. She’d had a maid service the entire time she’d worked at Hart and Dunn, but if their firm didn’t start having a regular cash flow, she might have to take a break or risk blowing her inheritance living the life she’d grown accustomed to.
“Did you find what you needed?”
Campbell turned at the sound of Wynne’s voice to see her standing close. “You should always wear blue. It’s definitely your color. I meant to tell you that when I walked in, but…”
“But it seemed like a weird thing to say to someone you’re working with.”
“I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t normally hesitate to tell another woman they looked great, but this seems different.”
“Could be the way you look at me when you say it,” Wynne said with a sly smile.
“I suppose. Does it bother you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then how about we go out and not let anything bother us tonight?” Campbell waited for Wynne’s answer, hoping she hadn’t blown their evening with her inability to keep her feelings under wraps.
“Sounds like a good plan.”
They spent the drive talking about their respective neighborhoods and how they’d had to deal with changes with the influx of so many new businesses and their employees who’d relocated to the area.
“It’s great for business,” Wynne said. “But all my new neighbors want to tear down the houses that have been around for decades and build bigger places with no character whatsoever. It’s a constant battle.”
“I hear you,” Campbell said. “I bought my house near South Congress for the neighborhood charm, but there’s a big difference between a natural funky, laid-back vibe and trying too hard to be chill. Last weekend, I walked to Jo’s to get a cup of coffee and nearly tripped over some bearded hipster dude parked on the sidewalk with a typewriter. He offered to write me a poem on the spot. Sometimes I think the transplants take the ‘Keep Austin weird’ slogan too literally.” She slowed down as they approached their destination. “Oops, this place is a lot busier than I thought it would be tonight. Help me look for a place to park.”
Wynne smiled. “You’re taking me to Winebelly?”
“You said you’d only been once and you liked it.” Campbell spotted an empty space and steered her car in. “I hope it’s okay.”
Wynne placed a hand on hers. “It’s perfect.”
Campbell squeezed her hand, happy she’d chosen well. “Shall we go drink all the wine and eat all the tapas?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
* * *
Wynne followed Campbell into the wine bar and immediately spotted the host she’d seen on her previous trip, Zeke. He greeted them both and then focused on her. “It’s good to see you again. Is your other friend joining you?”
Campbell looked at her with a confused expression, and Wynne shook her head, certain he was referring to Lane. “No, just a table for two.”
Zeke led them to a cozy table in the corner and gave them the rundown on the specials, encouraging them to try a new blend that had just arrived. They each ordered a glass, and after he walked away, Campbell said, “I thought you’d only been here once. You must have made quite an impression.”
“Actually, it wasn’t that long ago, which is probably why he remembered me.”
“Was it a date?”
Did she detect a trace of jealousy in Campbell’s question? “Prelude to a date. It wasn’t great. And then there was the actual date. You know, the one I ditched when I showed up at your house.”
“I remember it well. Her loss is my gain.”
“Here’s to that,” Wynne said, looking up as Zeke approached with their glasses of wine. “You have perfect timing.”
“Would you like to order some food or shall I give you a minute?” he asked.
Wynne inclined her head toward Campbell to let her choose.
“Let’s take our time,” Campbell said. “We’ll give you a shout when we’re ready.” When he walked away, Campbell reached a hand across the table and grasped Wynne’s. “I hope that was okay. I know we both barely had any lunch, but I’d like to savor a few minutes alone with you without feeling like there’s a thing we have to do or a place we need to be.”
Wynne looked at their joined hands, and then back up into Campbell’s dreamy eyes. She could get lost there—a fact she’d known for a while now, but was just now beginning to surrender to. The implications were enormous and complicated, but she didn’t want to think about them right now. She didn’t want to think at all. She raised her glass. “Now for a proper toast. Shall I do the honors?”
Campbell held up her glass. “Please do.”
“To seeing past the obstacles and living in the moment,” Wynne wasn’t sure she believed the sentiment, but if Campbell was willing to try, she was too.
Campbell tilted her glass toward Wynne’s, and their glasses clinked to signal their relationship had shifted. Wynne took a sip of her wine and enjoyed the warmth of the alcohol trailing down the back of her throat, but along with it came a sense of agitation. It wasn’t the wine, which was delicious, but she shifted in her seat, unable to get comfortable while she tried to figure out what had her on edge.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up at Campbell who was staring intently at her with dark and smoldering eyes. “Yes. I mean no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You look flushed.” Campbell raised her hand to signal the waiter. “Let’s get you some water.”
Wynne closed her eyes and did a mental check-in. The heat she’d felt after drinking the wine was spreading, enveloping her entire body. It wasn’t the wine; it was the woman sitting in front of her. This pretty, witty, smart woman who’d remembered that she’d mentioned this wine bar and who’d brought her here in the most thoughtful of gestures. The edge she felt was the slippery slope, the crest of the mountain, the what-am-I-getting-myself-into realization before jumping into thin air.
“Let’s get out of here,” Campbell said.
“Really?” Did Campbell mean what she thought she meant? Wynne searched her face for clues.
“Absolutely.” Campbell leaned forward, her expression sexy and determined. “We can drink wine at your house and order a pizza.”
“I don’t have any wine.”
“I don’t care about the wine.”
Wynne stared into Campbell’s eyes. They were piercing with promise, and in that moment, Wynne’s agitation was swept away. She didn’t care about wine, or dinner, or the case, or anything else beyond the bubble
that was her and Campbell and whatever magic was happening between them right now. “I don’t either. Let’s go.”
Chapter Seventeen
Campbell watched Wynne fumble to fit her key in the front door lock and wondered if it was nerves, and if it was, were they good nerves or bad ones? Twice, she started to reach out to help but kept pulling back, torn between wanting to rush and wanting to take things slow, even if taking it slow meant Wynne changed her mind. Whatever was about to happen, they both had to agree or it would never work.
She heard the lock click. Wynne opened the door and looked back at her, her eyes questioning. Campbell took her hand and followed her inside. They both stood in the small entry, about a foot apart, like they were each waiting for the other to make the first move.
“I know you said you don’t care about wine,” Wynne said, “but I do have a bottle of Scotch that I’m sure is very old and expensive and a bottle of Champagne that may or may not be devoid of bubbles. I can get you a glass and—”
Campbell stepped close. “I’m good.” She slipped an arm around Wynne’s waist and gently tugged her closer. “Unless you want something besides this.” She leaned forward until her lips were almost grazing Wynne’s and whispered, “Is this okay?”
Wynne answered by capturing her lips between hers and holding them for an infinite moment before dipping her tongue into Campbell’s mouth. Campbell moaned with pleasure, not even trying to contain her emotions as the delicious pressure between them built. The kiss broke naturally, and they were each breathing heavily after.
“Do you want to sit down?” Wynne asked, her eyes dark with desire.
“I have a whole list of things I want to do right now, but sitting isn’t one of them.” Campbell braced for Wynne to pull back in response to her enthusiasm and was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t. Instead Wynne reached out her hand.
“I think we should work our way through your list,” Wynne said as she led them back to her bedroom. Campbell was surprised that the room looked more homey than the rest of the house, with several framed photos and other personal items scattered around the room. She wanted to ask about the photos. Were the people family or friends? Currently in her life or from another time? But she didn’t want to break this high voltage current between them, so she focused on the bed, which was surprisingly fluffy and feminine with a pale yellow comforter and about a half dozen cozy pillows. She’d expected Wynne’s style to lean more towards Spartan, considering the rest of the house. She glanced over at Wynne to catch her staring. “Nice bed.”
“You look surprised.”
“I might be. Just a little.” Campbell pulled Wynne close so that they were standing in each other’s arms. She leaned in and kissed a light trail up Wynne’s neck, ending near her ear. “Here I find out you’re all boss in the boardroom and princess in the sheets.”
“How long have you been waiting to use that clichéd line?”
“A long time,” Campbell said with a grin. “So is it true?”
Wynne stepped closer. “Kiss me.”
Campbell didn’t hesitate. She pressed her lips to Wynne’s, lightly at first, but then she increased the pressure, teasing with her tongue until Wynne opened to her. The heat ramped up as their lips melded, and Campbell ached to be even closer as she trembled with arousal. When their kiss broke this time, Campbell felt like she might melt into the floor if Wynne weren’t holding her.
“Let’s get in bed.”
Wynne murmured the words against her neck, her jagged breath an intoxicant, and Campbell followed her across the room, surrendering to her control. Wynne stopped at the edge of the bed and placed her hands on Campbell’s chest before taking an excruciatingly long time to unbutton her shirt. Campbell pressed into her hands, willing Wynne to move faster even as she savored the buildup. By the time Wynne finally pushed the shirt back from her shoulders and unfastened her bra, Campbell was hyper aroused, and when Wynne dipped her head down and licked along the edge of her breast, she became a quivering mess.
She reached for Wynne’s shirt, running her fingers along her waistline, desperate to feel skin on skin. “Off,” was all she could manage, and Wynne’s face slid into a slow smile as she paused to remove her own top and bra. “Is that what you wanted?”
Campbell traced Wynne’s dusky rose nipples with her fingers, enjoying the way they grew hard against her touch. “Yes, but this is only the beginning.”
“Is that so?”
“Most definitely.” Campbell leaned back against the pillows. “Weren’t you saying something about getting into bed?” She watched as Wynne tugged off the rest of her clothes, stepped out of her own, and climbed onto the bed.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much,” Campbell said, barely able to breathe at the sight of Wynne’s slender naked body hovering over hers. “You’re beautiful.” Wynne started to shake her head, and Campbell reached up to stop her. “I mean it. Absolutely gorgeous. Inside and out.”
“Yeah? Well, so are you.” Wynne leaned down and traced her tongue along the edge of her breast. “So pretty,” she whispered before sucking Campbell’s breast into her mouth. Wynne’s tongue was both soft and firm against her taut nipples, and Campbell writhed on the bed, desperate to get even closer when she felt Wynne’s fingers between her legs, tracing trails of ecstasy along her thighs stopping only to dip into the wetness between her legs. Campbell could sense her control slipping away, and as much as she wanted this to last, she wanted to surrender more. “I want to feel you inside me,” she gasped, surprised she could speak at all.
Wynne gently slid her fingers in, easing them in and out. Campbell matched her breathing to the slow, steady strokes and relaxed into the sexy rhythm of Wynne’s caress.
Wynne’s voice floated through the air. “I want to taste you.”
“Please.” When Wynne’s lips grazed across her clit, Campbell shook with desire and completely relinquished control, arching up off the bed, willing Wynne to take her. Stroke after stroke, Wynne granted her desire, taking her to the crest of arousal and easing her back down again, over and over. Campbell fisted the sheets and rode each wave, finally letting go when she felt her orgasm build to a perfect pitch, sending her soaring over the edge.
* * *
The first thing Wynne noticed the next morning when she rolled over in bed was that she was alone. The second was that sunlight was pouring into the room. She stretched into the warmth of the sun’s rays, enjoying the feel of her tender muscles, muscles she’d spent most of the night using in a way she hadn’t in a long, long time. But she couldn’t truly relax because Campbell wasn’t here and she should be, because if she wasn’t then last night was nothing more than a one-night stand where one participant slinks away in the dead of night and they never speak of it again.
Panic set in. They would have to see each other plenty while working on this case. How were they supposed to work together when every time she looked at Campbell memories of the hours of steamy, passionate sex filled her brain like they were doing right now.
Work. Wynne opened her eyes wide, staring at the natural light flooding from her window, and reached for her phone. It was after nine. She hadn’t slept this late since…well, never. They were supposed to be up early, working on the motion to compel. She’d wanted to write the motion last night, but Campbell had talked her out of it. We can work on it tomorrow, she’d said. We have plans, she’d said. But now it was tomorrow and the morning was half over.
At that moment, Campbell tiptoed into the room wearing a robe and carrying a tray. Wynne squinted. It was the robe she kept hanging in the bathroom, and Campbell looked incredibly hot in it, which was problematic considering she had to get up right this instant.
“You’re up,” Campbell said, sounding disappointed. “I was letting you sleep in, but now that you’re awake, how about coffee and breakfast tacos? Cream, no sugar, right? And I got several kinds of tacos. You can have first pick.”
Wynne watched while Ca
mpbell set the tray on the nightstand, unable to fully process what was happening. “You went out for breakfast? In my robe?”
“Just to Jo’s. I’m sure you know this, but your refrigerator is kind of lonely. Oh, and I wore clothes, but I spilled coffee on my pants and I rinsed them out and put on your robe. I hope you don’t mind. ”
“Not at all. You should always wear a robe, and nothing else.” Wynne eyed the tray. “I don’t really eat breakfast, but I’m pretty excited about that coffee.”
Campbell sank onto the bed beside her and handed her a foil wrapped taco. “Consider it dinner, which we never wound up eating, by the way.”
“True. Remind me not to believe you next time you offer to buy me dinner in exchange for a favor.”
“Regrets already?”
Visions of Campbell—naked, on her back, writhing and begging for more—flooded her brain, and Wynne shook her head. “None. Last night was incredible.” She reached up and ran her hand along Campbell’s face. “You were incredible. My only regret is that we have to rush out of here.” Campbell’s brow furrowed, and Wynne added, “The motion? The one we were supposed to work on early this morning and file by noon?”
“Oh, yeah. About that.” Campbell grinned and handed Wynne her phone, pointing at the screen. “It just needs a once-over and it’s ready to go.”
Wynne scanned the paragraph she could see and kept scrolling through page after page of sound legal argument supported by on point case law. When she was done reading, she handed the phone back to Campbell. “Let me get this straight. After hours of insanely good sex resulting in two orgasms—”
Campbell raised her hand. “Three. I counted at least three. And those were just the rock the walls ones. There were also all those aftershocks, which I quite enjoyed, by the way.”