by Radclyffe
“Ouch,” Blaise said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but growing a thick skin has its advantages.” Grady saw the red light marking the center of town. A few more blocks and they’d be at her place. “Is there anything open around here?”
“Now? Well, there’s a bar that serves burgers and such. Are you hungry?”
“No,” Grady said, her voice laced with frustration. “I’m just not ready for the night to be over yet.”
“Oh,” Blaise said. Funny, neither was she. “All right then, how about a nightcap?”
“I’ve had my quota of beer for the night, and I can’t imagine the bar is going to have anything else I would want to drink.”
“That’s a bet I wouldn’t take, but how do you feel about port?”
Grady sat up straight and the seat belt snapped across her chest. “Port? Oh, I feel really good about that.”
Blaise put on her blinker, turned onto Union Street, drove down three houses, and pulled into a narrow drive between a two-story yellow house and a similarly styled white clapboard one on the opposite side. “All right then. I’ll meet you on the porch in just a couple of minutes.”
“This is your house?” Grady said as she got out and followed Blaise to the front porch.
Blaise smiled at her. “Uh-huh.”
“Okay, dumb question. Sorry, being around you tends to reduce me to a bumbling idiot at times.”
“I’ve never noticed that. Go, get comfortable on the porch, and I’ll get the drinks.” Blaise hurried through the house to the kitchen. She could’ve invited her in, but if she did, the intimacy would be far too frightening. And there was the little matter that she didn’t trust herself inside, in the middle of the night, alone with Grady.
Grady stirred her up too much.
Blaise carried the port back outside and handed Grady the small glass. Grady took a sip and sighed. “Okay, that’s perfect.”
Grady had chosen the porch swing to sit on. Blaise could play it safe and take the rocker next to it, or she could sit beside her. That would still leave at least a foot of space between them. And the glider was fun. She sat down, put a foot on the floor, and gently pushed the rocker into motion. “Thanks for telling me about Taylor’s encounter with Billy. That was thoughtful of you.”
“I don’t think it was anything dangerous,” Grady repeated. “Courtney was there, and she explained you already knew he was a bit of a problem. She also said Taylor was the kind of kid who’d tell you about anything more serious.”
“I would’ve understood if you hadn’t said anything. And Courtney’s not wrong. Courtney is—well, Courtney is a lot of things. I’m sure you noticed.”
“I like Courtney,” Grady said, sipping her port. “But she’s not you.”
Blaise huffed. “She most certainly isn’t.”
“No, she’s not anything like you.” Grady tilted her head back, half closed her eyes. No lights shone from the neighboring houses, the trees on either side of Blaise’s house blocked the porch from casual view, and the bit of sky visible over the silhouettes of rooftops and chimneys glittered with a swath of sparkling stars like diamonds on black velvet. The gentle sway of the rocker, the port warming her despite the faint chill, and Blaise’s citrusy scent cocooned her in lush sensation. Pleasantly overloaded, she spoke without thinking. “Courtney’s fun. She’s bright and energetic and—”
“Sexy,” Blaise said. “You can say it.”
Grady laughed and turned her head toward Blaise. “Sexy. Yes, in a general sort of way. But I’m not interested in general—I’m much more interested in specifics. As in, specifically you. Like I said, Courtney would be fun, but you, you would be—are—unforgettable. First, but not last, you’re sensual and sexy down to your bones. Everything about you fires me up—your certainty, your determination, even your damn blueprint for the future, and I know you have one. Your smile, the look in your eyes when you’re weighing the consequences of your next move, the fact that you do—I want to know why. I want to know what you dream that no one else knows. I want to know all of it.”
“No, you don’t,” Blaise said quietly.
“I do,” Grady said, “whenever, whatever you want to tell me.”
“And if I repeat I don’t plan on sharing any of that?” Blaise wanted to hear just one answer, the sane smart answer, and dreaded it at the same time.
“I’ll wait.”
Not what she wanted to hear, despite the rush of relief. “Why? Why bother?”
Grady smiled. “Because you’re determined and certain, and I know when you feel that way about a woman, it will be everything.”
Blaise’s chest tightened. Everything. She could barely remember when she’d believed passion, love, would be everything she wanted. Grady had no idea what she was asking of her.
Chapter Eighteen
Blaise’s phone vibrated, and she slid it from her pocket. The sinking in her stomach could have been disappointment, or relief. She cleared her throat, searched for steady ground when the world seemed to have tilted. “That’s Taylor. Dave is dropping her off at home. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re happy about that?” Grady’s tone was teasing, but Blaise couldn’t find the words to tease back. She wanted—needed—Grady to know what Grady’d just said had touched her. What she wouldn’t say was how much her being touched frightened her. Feeding a need only made the hunger greater.
“Maybe because I don’t know what to say,” Blaise said. “You can’t know these things you believe about me, and yet…somehow you know more than you should.”
“More than you want me to?” Grady asked softly.
“I don’t know that either.” Blaise smiled wryly. “Hence my cowardly retreat into silence.”
Grady chuckled. “Cowardly you are not. Cautious, maybe?”
“Mm. That sounds better.”
“Tell you what. Don’t say anything.” Grady set her port glass on the railing as she rose. “I had a great day today. Actually, just about every minute since I met you has been amazing. That would be”—she checked the sports watch she wore—“one thousand, six hundred and eighty minutes. And I’ve thought of you for at least half of them. That might be more time than I’ve ever spent thinking of anyone that intensely. In fact, I know it is.”
“You see why I don’t know what to say?” Blaise laughed in desperation. “No one says those things. I can’t…you confound me.”
“I’m going to take that as another compliment.”
Blaise snorted, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Of course you are.”
“And since your daughter is on her way, I’m going to go home now.” Grady stepped in front of Blaise and leaned over with one hand on the arm of the glider. Her body blocked out the stars. “And before I go, I’d really, really like to kiss you good night. If you don’t mind.”
Blaise stopped the motion of the glider with her foot flat on the porch floor. Her knees were just between Grady’s spread legs. If she reached out a few inches, she could grip her hip. She didn’t move, not one muscle. “I ought to mind. But,” she said before Grady could straighten and move away, “I think I’ll mind a lot more if you don’t.”
“Good,” Grady murmured and leaned closer, inch by slow, powerful inch. “Because if I don’t kiss you, I’ll never sleep again. I’ll just lie awake hungry.”
Blaise imagined those endless minutes ticking by, waiting for sleep, waiting for the promise of a kiss, for the taste and texture of it. Grady was barely moving now—close, so very close. Waiting. Blaise could still say no. If she didn’t stop Grady now, she could never pretend she didn’t want this. Not now, and not later when she waited for sleep, remembering the husky timbre of Grady’s voice and the dark glimmer in her gaze. She could never pretend Grady hadn’t awakened something in her she’d kept locked away behind bitter walls of disappointment and anger. Grady gave her the choice, and the answer must be truth, for she would not live a lie.
&n
bsp; “What do you say, Blaise?” Grady murmured. “Will you rescue me from my sleepless night?”
“I don’t think you need rescuing,” Blaise said.
“You’d be surprised.”
Blaise couldn’t look away from the stark planes of Grady’s face, sharp and taut with hunger. For her. She gasped.
Grady’s mouth curved in that half-amused, half-satisfied smile, and Blaise had the insane urge to nip at that full, sensuous lower lip. Instead, she brushed her thumb over it, and Grady groaned.
“Don’t tease, not now,” Grady said. “Take it—or tell me to go. I can’t hold back much longer.”
Blaise’s heart leapt into her throat. Grady’s desire burned through her, birthing a bright raw power she adored.
“You’ll survive. Patience.” Blaise slipped the tip of her thumb along the inner surface of Grady’s lip, felt the flick of tongue against her skin. Grady’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath quickened, harsh and shallow. The sight of her need stoked Blaise’s arousal, thick and languorous, pulsing between her thighs. Oh yes, she liked the power Grady unleashed in her.
She brushed the line of Grady’s jaw, felt her muscles quiver and jump, and nearly laughed. So gorgeous. Want crashed through her, shaking her control. She hungered now, deep and aching. She thirsted. So long denied.
“I want you to kiss me,” Blaise whispered.
“Show me,” Grady said.
With her fingers wrapped around Grady’s nape, Blaise pulled her down the last few inches. Grady braced her other arm on the back of the glider, framing Blaise in her embrace.
Blaise breathed out at the last second, drawing in Grady’s scent as their lips touched. Dark and rich—bergamot and amber—potent and intoxicating. Every part of her exploded into awareness at once, drowning her in sensation. First her lips shimmered with the featherlight glide of Grady’s mouth over hers, then the pressure of Grady’s kiss demanding more, shifting to claim her completely. The thread of desire twisting through her thickened, tugging her deeper and deeper into the heat of Grady’s mouth, the silken sweep of Grady’s lips plundering hers with delicate fury.
Grady kissed with her eyes open, and the beauty nearly undid her. Blaise stroked her face, and the tremor beneath her fingers turned her liquid inside. This was not desire. This was something far more crucial—terrifying and irresistible. Too much.
Blaise gasped and murmured, “I think—”
“Don’t,” Grady whispered, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the glider with both hands. If she touched Blaise anywhere else, she’d never be able to stop. The sweet, tart taste of Blaise’s kisses sank claws of need into her belly. She wanted to touch her, taste her, everywhere. She wanted to lose herself in the wild wonder of her. The enormity of her wanting turned her body to stone. She would kiss her and nothing more. Not yet. “Don’t think.”
Grady’s mouth took hers again, firm and demanding but oh, so careful. Blaise surrendered to impulse and nipped at her lip. Grady jerked as if shocked, and Blaise exulted. She sucked Grady’s lower lip and nibbled at it again, teasing Grady until Grady’s tongue swept into her mouth and drove all thought of teasing from her mind. Grady’s power stormed her control, and she drew her in. Opened for her. Welcomed her.
Headlights slashed through the dark, shattering the shadows that secluded them in the night. Blair murmured and pressed a hand against Grady’s chest. “Taylor.”
“Fuck.” Grady straightened, breathing like she’d just finished a marathon.
The instant their lips parted, the cool night air brushed across Blaise’s mouth like an icy hand on a fevered brow. How was it she’d never noticed that kisses could be so warm? How was it she’d never before ignited from the simple brush of lips over lips? The silky glide, the teasing touches, the exquisite, taunting torment of a tongue playing against her own. How could she not have known?
“I need a minute,” Blaise said, half laughing. “I don’t want to face my daughter looking guilty or…worse.”
“I might need more than that,” Grady muttered, backing up until she hit the railing behind her. “You are…fuck, I can’t find the right word. Exceptional.”
Blaise laughed again, the lingering thrill of desire and the heady power of arousing Grady making her shudder. “I have to say I’ve never experienced a good-night kiss quite like that before.”
“Good.” Grady’s tone held a hint of satisfaction and unexpected possessiveness that Blaise found surprisingly exciting.
The headlights grew brighter, more focused, as the pickup truck pulled over to the curb in front of the house.
“I should go,” Grady said quietly, and when she moved, Blaise didn’t call her back.
For the moment, she wanted only the lingering memory of Grady in the moonlight, before reality intruded.
“Good night,” Blaise said softly.
Blaise watched Grady turn and walk down the porch steps as Taylor came up the sidewalk. They passed, exchanged quiet greetings, and then Taylor dropped onto the swing beside her.
“I didn’t know you knew Grady,” Taylor said.
“Oh,” Blaise said, doing her best to shift into parent-gear now that her heart wasn’t pounding its way out of her chest. Ignoring the other parts of her anatomy that hadn’t yet calmed down would have been a lot harder if she hadn’t had to converse with her teenager. “She’s a doctor at the hospital. One of the new surgeons.”
“Yeah, I knew that. Courtney mentioned it. She was with Courtney, right, at the game?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Yeah.” Taylor pointed a foot at the port glass on the railing and looked down at Blaise’s wineglass on the floor. “I guess you two got home a while ago, huh?”
Blaise smothered her smile. This was new. This not-so-subtle third degree. “I gave her a ride home. Court had to leave.”
“Oh, I know. Blake took off too. Just thought, you know, you should know. About Court.”
“Well, thank you,” Blaise said, “and I will duly note it.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Honey,” Blaise said, “there’s nothing serious going on between Grady and me.”
“Geez, Mom.” Taylor heaved a sigh. “It’s not like I don’t think you might, you know, want a date or something. Which would be great, since you never do. But if she’s going out with Court too…just saying.”
“You’ve never shown any interest in my personal life before. Why now?”
“Maybe because you didn’t have one?”
Blaise nodded. “Fair point. Grady and I are not dating. And neither are Grady and Court.”
“Good. I’m going to bed.” Taylor grabbed Grady’s port glass and headed for the house. “She’s cool, by the way. In case you wondered. Night.”
“Night, honey.”
The night closed in and silence reigned. Blaise swung the glider, thinking about one thousand, six hundred and eighty minutes. She’d probably spent as many of them as Grady had, maybe more, thinking about the long night in the hospital handling a surgical crisis with Grady, and the moments in the waiting room with Wilbur Hopkins, and the magical moments in the café sharing doughnuts, and tonight…finding Grady asleep, the car ride, the quiet conversation, the kiss that never should have been and was more than she could have dreamed.
She pushed the glider steadily, back and forth, back and forth, far from ready to sleep. How many more minutes would she spend reliving the softness of Grady’s mouth, the tremor of Grady’s muscles beneath her palm, the soft murmur of pleasure that escaped Grady’s throat as she’d touched her? More than the minutes in a day. Countless.
* * *
After midnight, the village was nearly deserted. Even the pharmacy on the corner of the main crossroads was closed. The bar Blaise had mentioned—Bottoms Up—was still open, but only two pickups remained in the parking lot, probably belonging to the staff. Grady’s apartment was two blocks away from Blaise’s home, a quick five-minute walk in the opposite direction from which she’d come. Not nearly
a long enough walk to dispel her simmering agitation. She hadn’t worn a jacket, and the air held enough chill to dry the sweat on the back of her neck, but it did little to dissipate the heat that streamed beneath her skin. She’d kissed plenty of women before, and always found it enjoyable. How could she not? A woman’s lips were warm, delicious, as enticing as an age-old mystery, and just as impossible to solve.
But this was a kiss beyond her experience.
This kiss caught her by surprise, nearly knocked her off her feet. A kiss that fired every nerve and left her light-headed, a little disoriented, and a whole hell of a lot turned on. If a simple kiss left her reeling, she had a hard time imagining what would happen when she finally put her hands on Blaise. Hell, when Blaise put her hands on her. She was likely to end up a cinder.
Arousal like that almost never happened to her. Of course she got turned on when women touched her, and she enjoyed orgasms as much as anyone, but she rarely—all right, almost never—lost the thread of her control. She always sensed, deep inside, that she was leading the dance. From the moment she’d met Blaise, she’d been following. And the funny thing was, she didn’t mind. Every second was too damn interesting. Fascinating.
And now, exciting in a way she hadn’t been excited in her life. Physically, absolutely, but more than that. Her thoughts were all of Blaise—what was she doing right now, what was she thinking, feeling, hoping. Was she thinking about the kiss? Did she want another?
“I’m screwed,” Grady muttered and loved the insane euphoria that bubbled inside her.
She’d reached the end of the main thoroughfare with nowhere else to go and turned around to walk back. In twenty minutes, she could be at the hospital, and there was always something going on there. Another day, another night, another time, she would’ve done that. But this night she had nothing she wanted to escape, or forget, or prove.
What she wanted was to go home, stretch out, and imagine the next kiss. Because there’d be one, there’d have to be, now that she knew what it was to kiss the woman she wanted. Not for an hour, or a few days, or a week. When she thought of Blaise, she didn’t think of time, or limits. Only possibility.
