Dark Skies: A Fox County Forensics Lesbian Romantic Suspense

by Malone, Cara

  27

  Amelia

  While Simone’s crew worked together to find the gun, Amelia and Simone stood on the lawn and watched. After a while, Simone put her head on Amelia’s shoulder and groaned.

  “I can’t believe I still have to go work a shift after this,” she said, her words muffled against Amelia’s shirt. Then she lifted her head and whispered, her breath hot against Amelia’s ear, “All I really want to do is drag you to bed and show you how damn much I love you.”

  “I want that too,” Amelia said, her hand sliding surreptitiously down to cup Simone’s butt. She gave it a little squeeze, then brought her hand back up to Simone’s waist. “What time do you get off?”

  “Five a.m.”

  “And I don’t need to be at work again until eight,” Amelia said. “So here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to come over to my place after your shift, and we’re going to make love, maybe have breakfast—we’ll see how much we can do with three hours.”

  “More like two, once you account for both of our commutes,” Simone pouted. “I just want to quit my job and run away with you.”

  Amelia grinned. “That does sound nice, but I’m pretty sure you’d regret that. Didn’t you say yourself that you were never going to let a woman get in the way of your career?”

  “That was before I fell in love with you,” Simone said. “But you’re right—I guess we need to keep earning money so we can afford to run away together someday, when we’re both retired.”

  Amelia stole a quick kiss. “Come see me in the morning. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “It always is.”

  At five-thirty the next morning, Amelia was waiting for Simone. She’d gotten up two hours before her alarm typically went off and put on a pot of coffee. Then she’d hopped in the shower and got squeaky clean before dressing in a silky negligee— something more conducive to going back to bed than going to work. And that was exactly what she had in mind.

  When Simone arrived, Amelia grabbed her by the collar of her station uniform and pulled her into the house. “How are your lungs this morning?”

  “Healing,” Simone told her, “but they also think you’re insanely hot in this little nightie and they want me to fuck your brains out.”

  She was running her fingers along the bottom hem, brushing her fingertips over the front of Amelia’s thigh and then trailing between her legs. Heat bloomed in Amelia’s core and she pulled Simone further into the living room.

  “I made coffee,” she said. “And there’s more croissants. I figured we could make breakfast sandwiches–”

  “Or I could just eat you instead,” Simone answered, nipping at Amelia’s lower lip.

  “Yeah,” Amelia breathed, “that was plan B.”

  “I like plan B,” Simone said. She walked Amelia backward toward the couch, asking, “Here okay?”

  Amelia nodded and Simone dropped to her knees. She buried her face in the silky material, kissing Amelia’s swollen clit through the fabric. She had her hands on Amelia’s hips, bracing her and holding her in place, and when she bowed down and nudged her way beneath the negligee, she let out a pleased hum as she discovered that Amelia wore nothing beneath it.

  Amelia closed her eyes and savored the sensation of Simone’s tongue on her clit, and gliding up and down her already slick pussy. She spread her feet a little wider and gasped when Simone licked deep in her folds.

  “I was going to make you take it easy,” Amelia told her. “I had every intention of tying your wrists to my bedpost if that’s what it took to make you rest while I took care of you.”

  Simone pushed two fingers into Amelia’s slit and her thighs shook as a wave of pleasure rippled through her. “I’d let you tie me to your bed,” she said as her fingers slowly worked in and out of her. “In fact, I love that idea. But only if you let me tie you up another time.”

  Was that a challenge?

  It was a damn hard one, considering how turned on Amelia already was. She wanted nothing more than to grab onto the back of Simone’s head and press her face between her legs until she came against Simone’s mouth. Maybe they could do one, then the other? They had a few hours…

  Simone brought her thumb up to Amelia’s clit, her fingers still massaging her core. Her other hand snaked up beneath Amelia’s negligee and grabbed her breast, kneading and toying with her nipple. And the mix of sensations was too much. Amelia was too close to the edge.

  “Oh God,” she gasped, taking Simone’s head in both her hands. “Fuck me. Put your mouth on me. Please.”

  She guided Simone’s tongue where she wanted it, then braced herself on the back of the couch as Simone’s wet tongue lapped increasingly frantic circles around her clit. Simone’s fingers pumped inside her, and Amelia moved her hips against Simone’s mouth, desperate for release.

  “I’m close,” she whined, “I’m so close, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Simone answered, her words muffled as she said them with her lips pressed to Amelia’s most sensitive area. She thrust her fingers deeper into Amelia’s core, her knuckles pressing against her with each stroke, adding a new dimension to the pleasure.

  She came around Simone’s fingers, her pussy spasming hard and her thighs shaking so much she had to use the couch back to hold herself up.

  When the feeling subsided and she came back to herself, her heart was pounding and Simone came out from under the negligee with a grin. “What was that about tying me up and having your way with me?”

  “Oh, we still have time for that,” Amelia said. She pulled the nightie over her head and looped the thin shoulder straps around Simone’s wrists. “Sit.”

  She ordered her onto the couch, then pulled Simone’s hands over her head, turning the negligee into a makeshift silk handkerchief to tie her to the wooden arm of the couch. She straddled Simone’s chest while she worked, teasing her with the sight of her glistening, still throbbing sex.

  Then she crawled down to the other end of the couch and unbuttoned Simone’s pants. “Your turn.”

  Amelia and Simone didn’t have a conventional type of relationship. Her availability was one of the reasons Amelia had resisted dating for so long, and Simone’s schedule was just as hectic as her own. There were a lot of reasons for things not to work out between them, but they both wanted them to. They wanted to make time to see each other, and make the most of their time together.

  And so it worked.

  In fact, Simone was the best thing that had ever happened to Amelia, and she knew after just three months together that she never wanted another woman as long as she lived. Simone was it for her, and she was everything.

  On their three-month anniversary, they made sure that their schedules aligned. They spent a romantic day in at Amelia’s house, where they tended to gravitate more than Simone’s apartment because it was larger and the coffee was better. Amelia had been thinking lately of asking Simone to let her lease go and move in with her. It was fast, but Simone had moved fast when she told Amelia that she loved her—and Amelia was so glad she had.

  She decided she would ask when the moment felt right. Maybe tonight, maybe someday soon.

  They spent the day just relaxing together. They stayed in bed all morning and made a lazy breakfast in the kitchen. They snuggled on the couch and watched the leaves fall outside Amelia’s window. They took a bubble bath together in the afternoon and sipped on chilled wine in the tub. And in the evening, they had plans with friends.

  While they got ready, Amelia asked, “Are you sure this is how you want to spend our anniversary?”

  Simone wrapped her in a big hug from behind, telling her, “All I want tonight—all I ever want—is to spend time with you. If I get to be with you, I don’t care if there are a hundred people double-dating with us.”

  “Triple-dating,” Amelia corrected her.

  They were going to meet up with Kelsey, who Amelia had been mentoring more actively lately, and her girlfriend Zara, as well
as Zara’s best friend Mel and her girlfriend Court.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Amelia said. “I meant going to a forensic investigation exhibit at the museum.”

  It was only in town for a few weeks, and everyone in Amelia’s professional circles had been talking about it. She had to see it, but with her crazy schedule and Simone’s, tonight was the only night they could go.

  Simone turned Amelia around in her arms so they were facing each other. She had a big grin on her face. “Okay, if you feel like it’s unfair to ‘drag’ me to this exhibit, then this is what we’ll do: the museum is for you, so when we’re done, we’ll do something for me.”

  The glimmer in her eyes made Amelia’s core tighten. “And what would that be?”

  “Guess.”

  The museum was crowded, and the exhibit was everything Amelia’s colleagues said it was. She and Simone wandered through it, talking to their friends and looking at artifacts and subtly flirting with each other. They talked about the exhibit and also about mundane things like how their days had gone.

  “I had my quarterly performance review today,” Simone said after a while. “And the probies are officially not probies anymore.”

  “Good for them,” Amelia said. “They all passed?”

  “Yeah, surprisingly,” Simone chuckled. “Even Larson. They’ll be reassigned to whatever firehouses need them, although I think I’m going to try to keep Velez. I like watching you mentor Kelsey and I bet I could be a good influence for Velez. She reminds me of when I was a newly minted firefighter.”

  “I’m sure you’d make a great mentor,” Amelia said, beaming with pride. “So I take it your performance review was positive?”

  “Yeah, it was,” Simone said. She was smiling in a way that told Amelia she was holding something back, and she nudged Simone’s ribs.

  “What?”

  “The fire chief told me I can start training to be a captain as soon as there’s an opening,” she said, practically bursting with the news.

  Amelia stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping. “You held onto that news all day? That’s amazing!”

  “I didn’t want to steal the limelight,” Simone explained. “It’s our anniversary so today should be about us.”

  “Whatever happens to one of us affects us both now that we’re a couple,” Amelia pointed out. “And I want to celebrate with you. Don’t keep good news from me!”

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Simone laughed.

  “What’s going on?” Zara asked as their paths crossed.

  “Simone’s going to be a fire captain!” Amelia said. Mel brought Court over and they all congratulated her.

  “That’s wonderful,” Kelsey said. “Fox County is lucky to have you.”

  “They’re lucky to have all of us,” Court chimed in. “We’re badass women.”

  They all agreed on that point, and then slowly the couples broke apart again, each going their own way. Amelia pulled Simone to the side so they weren’t blocking any exhibits, and then she took Simone’s hands.

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” Simone answered.

  “I want you to move in with me,” Amelia said. Apparently, this was the moment. Ultimately, there was only the present—and Simone had been teaching Amelia to live in the now ever since they met. “I don’t want to be apart from you any more than I have to be,” she continued. “And if you don’t want to move into my place, if you’d rather we find someplace we can build a home in together–”

  Simone cut her off with a kiss. “I would love to move in with you, Amelia.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I don’t care where we live, as long as I get to wake up next to your beautiful face every morning. Well, as much as our schedules allow.”

  Amelia laughed. “We’ll make it happen.”

  “Yes, we will,” Simone agreed. “Because when you find your soulmate, there’s no amount of effort that’s too much if it means you get to be with her. Happy anniversary, Amelia.”

  “Happy anniversary,” she repeated, squeezing Simone’s hand tight, never letting go.

  Epilogue

  Clark

  Well, this really wasn’t ideal.

  He’d been Mark Davis for over two months and he’d signed up for a rideshare service he’d never used before, just to make sure his tracks were well-covered. He’d had to jump through a few extra security hoops now that everyone was on edge, but his ID was solid and he knew how to get his hands on a valid Social Security number.

  The problem was that his last failed friend had become somewhat of a celebrity. She’d started off on the twelve o’clock news, but her story picked up a surprising amount of steam and by now, she’d gone on pretty much every local news channel and a few of the national ones. With her talking about rideshare stranger danger all over the place, women weren’t ordering rides anymore. And they sure as hell weren’t ordering them from early-30s white men like him… was it his fault that he fit the major demographic for pretty much every violent crime in America?

  He should probably count himself lucky that the police sketch they eventually released to the media didn’t look like anyone in particular. It was just a generic Caucasian male. Whether that was because the girl hadn’t gotten a close enough look at him or because Clark actually was generic, he didn’t know.

  Right now, he didn’t care. He had bigger problems than digging into what was wrong with him in his core.

  He had no money, his landlord was on his ass—as if it were a privilege to live in the cockroach-infested studio apartment Clark called home—and on top of that, he was lonely.

  Critically so.

  For the last few weeks, none of the passengers he’d managed to pick up wanted to talk to him—at least not any of the ones he thought had friend potential. They were all defensive, or they traveled in groups and talked only to each other, or they clutched pepper spray keychains the whole time they were in his car. Clark hadn’t had a full conversation with anyone but his landlord in nearly a month, and that had only been about how much he owed. It was starting to make him a little crazy.

  Crazy enough and lonely enough to do something he hadn’t done in five years.

  He got in his new-to-him car and drove three and a half hours to the State Correctional Institution in Muncy. He signed in, walked through the metal detector, and got a visitor’s badge. And then he went into the visitation room and sat down at a round table, in a slightly wobbly old chair like the ones he remembered from grade school. And he waited for his mother to appear.

  When she saw him, she looked surprised. He’d been on her visitors list since she went in, but it had been years since he last came to see her.

  When he saw her, he couldn’t believe how fragile and old she appeared after six years in prison. That was six of a possible twenty-five. She was eligible for parole in four more years, but if she didn’t get it, he wasn’t sure she would survive to the end of her sentence. Not from the looks of her.

  She sat down across from him. Didn’t even try to hug him or shake his hand. He knew from long-ago visits that the guards wouldn’t allow it, but he’d hoped that she would at least try, after five years of estrangement.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I missed you.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. She glanced at the vending machines lining one wall of the visitation room. “Could you get me a soda before you ask for whatever it is you want?”

  Clark’s heart, what was left of it, shriveled and cracked in his chest. His own mother wasn’t happy to see him, and with one sentence, she’d reduced this entire visit to a transaction.

  Well, she was a counterfeiter after all. Currency was all she ever cared about.

  Clark went to the vending machines. Twelve-ounce cans cost a dollar-fifty, absolute price gouging. He had a bunch of quarters in his pocket that he’d been planning to use on the toll roads, but he bought his mother a soda, then got himself one
too. He’d have to take the back roads home because those quarters were the only cash he had on him.

  He carried the sodas back to the table and watched his mother chug half of hers in one long swallow. When she was finally done guzzling, she said, “They pay me nineteen cents an hour to wash sheets. Do you know how long it’s been since I could afford a soda?”

  A thank you would have been nice, Clark thought instead of answering.

  She went back to drinking, then belched loudly when she reached the bottom of the can. She set it aside and asked, “So, what are you here for?”

  “I wanted to see how you were,” Clark said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “And I was wondering how your appeals were going.”

  “I ran out of those,” she said. “You know that.”

  They sat in silence for a moment or two, taking each other’s measure, and at last, he said quietly, “I need money, Mom.”

  She sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked supremely satisfied at having made him ask. When in her life had she ever done anything without making him beg first? Clark couldn’t think of a single instance.

  “Well, in that case, you came to the right person,” she said. She couldn’t resist salting his wound, adding, “Although I’m disappointed you even need to ask. How many times did you help me when you were younger?”

  It was all he did, other than go to school so CPS wouldn’t notice anything out of place. But she’d never taught him the entire counterfeiting process. She always needed him to be dependent on her—and she never trusted him not to screw it up.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” she said, reaching across the table and swiping the second soda can.

  Clark didn’t even complain when she started drinking his Pepsi. She was actually going to take him into her confidence, and that was worth far more than his toll road money. Despite all the time he’d spent trying to distance himself from her in the last five years, he found himself basking in Mommy’s attention.