by V. K. Powell
She reached under the table and squeezed Bennett’s hand where it rested on her thigh. Suddenly she craved everything they’d missed as teenagers—the first tentative press of Bennett’s naked body against hers; the pads of Bennett’s fingers tracing a path across her breasts; the scent of her mingled sweat and sex; the silkiness of Bennett’s arousal on her fingers, in her mouth; her ragged breathing before she came; and her unbridled moan of pleasure as she climaxed. Kerstin released Bennett’s hand, unable to endure the intensity of their body heat and her erotic thoughts.
“Kerst?” Bennett placed her arm on her chair, leaned in, and whispered, “All right?”
Everyone was staring at her. She cleared her throat. “Naming your children after your favorites is a lovely way to remember them, your courtship, and your husband.” The mood around the table was weighted, full of family memories and her desire. “And can any of your children sing?”
“Of course they can, but seldom on key.” G-ma laughed as she took a big gulp of champagne. “But we love them exactly the way they are.”
“It’s a good thing too,” Bennett said. “By the way, I saw Emory Blake at the hospital the other night. She looked great and asked about the family.”
“She’s a wonderful woman,” G-ma said. “She, Gayle, and I have worked on several volunteer projects through the years. I hoped she’d end up in the family.” She continued eating while everyone quieted. When she looked up, Bennett drilled her with a pointed stare. “Oh, sorry, dear. Don’t mind me. I ramble.”
The comment and Bennett’s sheepish expression produced the same queasy feeling Kerstin had when Nurse Jen fondled Bennett at the hospital. She swallowed another sip of champagne to settle her stomach and steered the conversation in a safer direction. “And what event is up next, at the hospital?”
Mama shook her head. “Not sure yet, maybe the annual fund-raiser.”
G-ma pushed her champagne glass away. “And this is why we don’t drink much. It makes us forgetful.”
Silence stretched until Simon cleared his throat. “Bennett tells us you’re an architect, Kerstin.”
“I guess you could say I followed in my father’s footsteps. As a child, I imagined we’d go into business together, specialize in sustainable housing, but…” But her father never warmed to the idea or to her beyond a fierce protectiveness of her virtue.
“Life happened,” Dylan said. “Like it always does.”
She smiled at Dylan appreciatively. “Exactly.”
“She kicks serious butt as an architect.” Bennett eased her arm around the back of Kerstin’s chair again. “You should see the design she has for the substation. Our place is going to be outstanding.”
“So how is working together?” Jazz asked, purposely avoiding Bennett’s glare.
“Nothing like high school,” Bennett offered.
Kerstin gave her a quick smile. “Well, I wouldn’t totally agree. Some things seem very familiar.”
Bennett faced her, an amused grin on her face. “Such as?”
“I’m doing all the work.” Kerstin laughed. “Sound about right?”
“Hey. I’m doing my part.”
“Sleeping in a chair while I pore over the design.”
“I’d had a long night,” Bennett said.
“And trying to decipher your horrible handwriting. You should’ve been a doctor too.”
“It was a rush job.”
“And there’s the never-ending discussions about form versus function.” Kerstin enjoyed the back-and-forth until Bennett shifted uneasily and the light in her eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly.
“Wait a minute. It’s not my fault some jackleg messed up the police-department specs before I came along.”
“And my predecessor wasn’t exactly thorough. Can’t blame his incompetence on Bennett.” Kerstin couldn’t bear the pained look on Bennett’s face any longer and put her out of her misery. “I was only kidding.”
At the end of the table, Simon broke out in a full belly laugh. “That was fun to watch.”
But Bennett’s discomfort remained, evident in the crease across her forehead and her unwillingness to look at Kerstin. The poignant comment about doing her best in a new assignment returned, and Kerstin leaned closer. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Then to the group, she added, “Actually, Bennett has practically rewritten the entire police department brief, and we’re about to put together a killer update to the plans.”
Bennett finally smiled and said, “And Kerstin made this model to help me understand how it will really look.”
“A model?” Riley’s head snapped up from her pie. “Can I see?”
“Me too,” Ryan chimed in. “Me too.”
Stephanie waited for an indication from Kerstin or Bennett that the request wasn’t entirely out of the question before commenting. When Kerstin nodded, she said, “You’d have to be very careful, because Kerstin and Aunt Bennett need the model for work. You can’t throw pieces of it at each other like you do Legos. Can you behave?”
The kids answered in unison. “Yes!”
“Guess it’s a date. What do you think, Captain Carlyle?”
“Definitely.”
“Thank you,” Simon said as the kids debated which one should examine the model first.
After the main course, Mama served pecan pie, banana pudding, and red velvet cake along with coffee or milk. Kerstin forced down a tiny bit of each so she wouldn’t hurt G-ma or Mama’s feelings…and because she just couldn’t decide between the three choices. She took a final sip of coffee and pushed away the table. “I can’t possibly eat another bite.”
Bennett rose and placed her hand on Kerstin’s shoulder. “Would you like another cup of coffee or some water while I help with the dishes?”
“Nonsense,” Mama said. “I believe it’s Dylan and Simon’s turn to clean up.”
Dylan started to say something, but Simon interrupted. “You’re exactly right, Mama. Come on, Doc. You can tell me about your latest challenging ER case.” He herded Dylan toward the sink and winked at Bennett.
“Dinner was delicious, as usual, Mrs. Carlyle,” Kerstin said. “Thank you all for welcoming me into your home again. It was like old times, really nice.”
“Glad you liked it, dear. Come back often. We always have plenty of food.”
Bennett again placed her hand in the small of Kerstin’s back and guided her toward the back door. “Let’s make our getaway while the getting’s good.” They walked toward the garden. “I’m so glad you came. You fit right in.”
Kerstin didn’t admit it, but for the first time in months, she’d actually let her guard down and allowed her emotions to rise. What had surfaced was another spark, which heightened her sense of belonging, and that feeling further amplified her arousal. She refused to think about her mother, the job, or the past. She focused on the feeling of being alive.
They walked a bit farther before Bennett spoke. “It’s a full moon. Would you like to sit by the koi pond for a bit?”
Kerstin glanced at Bennett standing beside her, and the image stopped her. Moonlight shimmered across the planes of her face and cast sexy shadows. Her eyes glistened in the dim glow and seemed to beckon to Kerstin. Enchanted by a combination of feelings and the champagne, she said exactly what was on her mind. “No, not really.” She grabbed Bennett’s hand and pulled her toward the cottage at the rear of the garden.
Chapter Thirteen
Bennett allowed Kerstin to drag her into the cottage. Very soon, Kerstin would come to her senses and run the other way. She always did if they got too close. But for the moment, Bennett savored the desire seeping from Kerstin’s pores and the craving it released in her.
She closed the door behind them, and Kerstin stepped into her body space and stared at her, begging her to understand and accept. The usual crystal blue of her irises turned stormy, but she didn’t speak.
Bennett swallowed hard at the hunger in Kerstin’s eyes. “Is there something
you’d like to talk about or—”
“Absolutely not.” With no preamble, Kerstin pushed her against the closed door and kissed her.
An urgent kiss so demanding Bennett struggled for breath. Kerstin’s hands fisted her hair and held her close while heat swelled and surged between them. Bennett’s legs trembled and she clung to Kerstin’s hips. She wanted this so desperately. She dreamed about sex with Kerstin, but her dreams were better choreographed and way more intimate. “Kerst—”
“Shush.” She scanned the small living space before resting her hooded eyes on Bennett again. “Bedroom?”
Bennett nodded toward the back of the cottage. “But shouldn’t we—”
“We’ve been dancing around this since I came back. Let’s get it out of our systems and move on.” She grabbed Bennett’s waistband and pulled her to the bedside.
“Like this?”
“Please stop talking, or I’ll change my mind.” She reached for Bennett’s shirt buttons but stopped. “Do you want me to change my mind?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Then please be quiet and let me have you, my way.” She ripped the front of Bennett’s shirt open, stripped it off, peeled her sports bra over her head, and stood back. “Oh, my. You’re more…everything…than I imagined.”
Bennett gasped, a combination of cool air on her steamy skin and Kerstin’s open appreciation. Bennett had fantasized about having sex with Kerstin, but she was the assertive one, gradually seducing Kerstin and slowly tormenting her until she begged to be taken. Bennett stepped forward with her arms open, an invitation for intimacy, but Kerstin backed away.
“Take off your jeans, slowly,” Kerstin said. When Bennett hesitated, she added, “Do you want me to say please?”
Bennett’s hands shook as she loosened her belt, unzipped her jeans, and folded them away from her body. She didn’t get nervous with women. Ever. But Kerstin wasn’t just any woman.
Kerstin laughed and pointed at her jeans. “Lucky you. Really?”
Bennett paused, uncertain. Maybe Kerstin noticed her discomfort, or maybe she didn’t look as good in her jeans as she imagined, but she glanced down and laughed as well. “The Lucky jeans motto.”
“Guess we’ll have to see how lucky I am, won’t we?” She knelt and skinned Bennett’s clothes off, tossing them and her shoes into a pile on the floor.
Kerstin Anthony on her knees in front of her—a fantasy come true. Bennett’s mouth dried while the inside of her thighs dampened. She shifted to close her legs.
“Don’t, please.” Kerstin slid a finger between Bennett’s thighs, and Bennett’s knees buckled. “Oh. My. Ben, you’re soaked. Lie down.”
“What about your jeans and—”
“I want you. Now. Just like this.” She placed her hand in the center of Bennett’s chest, shoved her onto the bed, and crawled on top, straddling her pelvis. “If you expected the shy, confused girl from high school, she’s long gone.”
“I—”
Kerstin placed a finger over her lips. “Again with the talking.” She shifted lower and settled a thigh against Bennett’s center. Her mouth found one of Bennett’s breasts, a hand the other. “So firm. So hot.”
Bennett tucked a hand inside the shoulder of Kerstin’s sweater, caressed her supple skin, and moaned at Kerstin’s responsiveness. She tilted Kerstin’s head for a kiss, searching for an intimate connection, but she resisted.
“Need this.” She feasted on Bennett’s breasts while riding her thigh, her pace harder and faster with each stroke.
The rough fabric of Kerstin’s jeans scrubbed her tender flesh, creating more heat and moisture. She bucked against the pressure, desperate to come but more desperate for intimacy. She wanted to kiss Kerstin and feel her need reciprocated, wanted the gentle exploration of first sex. She wanted to make love, not fuck. As she started to object, Kerstin pinched her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, held on, and slid down her body.
“Kerst, please…”
The only response was a groan as Kerstin buried her head between Bennett’s thighs. Her tongue tormented Bennett’s clit. Her left hand teased a breast while her fingers slid slowly into her. Heat boiled inside Bennett and her muscles contracted. The sensations overpowered her as Kerstin feasted, and the initial surge of orgasm rose too quickly. Bennett urged Kerstin up her body for a kiss to prolong their contact and to slow her steady climb toward climax.
Kerstin raised her head and gazed into Bennett’s eyes. “Please…let me…”
She would give Kerstin anything—in the past, now, and forever. And with those pleading words, Bennett surrendered, shattered by the orgasm ripping through her. She barely heard Kerstin cry out and go still on top of her.
Hours could’ve passed before she moved again, her body a mass of satisfied flesh, and when she did, Kerstin moved with her.
“Turn over.”
“What? Come here, please. I want to kiss you.” Bennett again attempted to bring her in for a hug, but Kerstin straddled her and rolled her onto her stomach.
“Relax. You’re going to like this.”
“Kerstin, I need—”
“I’ll give you exactly what you need, very soon.” Kerstin eased onto Bennett’s back and kissed along the tops of her shoulders and down her spine while she cupped the sides of Bennett’s breasts. “You feel so awesome. I can’t get enough of you.”
Definitely not the shy Kerstin Anthony she recalled from high school, the nervous kid barely confident enough to kiss Bennett, once. Had she desired the earlier version, expected her as Kerstin suggested? Present-day Kerstin orchestrated every move as if she’d planned the entire scene. Bennett enjoyed Kerstin’s eager assertiveness, but Bennett could’ve been any other woman. Kerstin wasn’t really seeing her.
“Kerstin, I need…” Kerstin slid a hand under her and words disappeared. In seconds, Bennett writhed against the sheets begging for relief. She rode Kerstin’s expert fingers until the second orgasm hit and she collapsed. Kerstin withdrew and stroked Bennett’s ass until she moaned her release in Bennett’s ear.
“That was amazing. You’re so responsive.” Kerstin nudged Bennett onto her side and spooned her from behind. “Thank you, Ben, for letting me take charge. I’m guessing that’s not your preferred style, but I was desperate.” Bennett tried to roll over, to embrace Kerstin, but she resisted again. “Just let me hold you for a while. Enjoy the moment.”
Bennett stretched back into Kerstin’s arms. She felt sexually satisfied but emotionally torn about their lack of intimacy. If she wanted more, she needed to ask. She took a deep breath, but Kerstin’s steady breathing stopped her. “Kerst?” No answer.
She crumpled under the weight of sadness and disappointment. She could write off their lack of affection as awkward first-timers’ sex. But what if Kerstin preferred fast, frantic, and detached liaisons? Bennett’s distress deepened. Kerstin cared about her. Bennett refused to believe anything else. They could talk tomorrow, deconstruct the entire evening, like women do, and move forward. She finally relaxed in Kerstin’s arms, hoping at last they’d come full circle.
* * *
Kerstin steadied her breathing and pretended to sleep. Bennett wanted to talk, but Kerstin couldn’t find one honest thing to say that wouldn’t expose her as a fraud. She’d treated Bennett like a meaningless hookup, like some men treated women, and her stomach roiled. She wouldn’t cuddle and play make-believe like a couple of teenagers, and she couldn’t admit this was only about sex. Was she afraid Ben would want more or that she would? Her choices were land mines, deceptive and damaging, and the results would haunt her going forward.
Bennett’s hold eventually loosened, and Kerstin slowly eased out of her grasp. She stood beside the bed, mesmerized by Bennett’s naked beauty and the innocence etched across her face, wishing she could offer more, knowing she couldn’t. And then she crept into the night.
She unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel as Jazz pulled in front of her and parked
her unmarked police cruiser on the street. Headlights lit up the inside of Kerstin’s vehicle, like a suspect in a lineup, complete with mussed hair, bruised lips, and Bennett’s scent all over her. She almost waved from sheer nerves, but maybe Jazz hadn’t seen her. She didn’t want to draw even more attention to her awkward situation.
Mercifully, Jazz killed the lights, gathered her equipment from the backseat, and walked toward the house. One day Kerstin might laugh about this, possibly even thank Jazz for her discretion, but tonight she couldn’t get away fast enough. The Carlyles’ front door closed behind Jazz, and Kerstin sped off without even turning on her headlights.
Why was she embarrassed? Why did she feel guilty? She and Bennett had sort of cleared up their misunderstandings about the past. They were attracted to each other. So, what was the problem? She’d snuck out of bed and crept away before Bennett woke up. Why hadn’t she stayed to talk as she’d promised? She just wasn’t sure she could be that intimate or vulnerable.
“If you’ve identified a pattern of running from relationships with serious potential, maybe it’s time to reevaluate.” Her aunt’s observation flashed through her mind, but she dismissed it. She wasn’t running. She’d simply decided to return to the hotel for a decent night’s sleep and left Bennett to do the same.
She dove into bed, clothes and all, praying for dreamless slumber, but sleep refused her. She imagined the press of Bennett’s body against hers, Bennett’s wetness on her fingers, and the taste of her. Bennett’s essence lingered on her clothing and her hands. She inhaled deeply and desire flared. She groaned and rubbed the heel of her palm between her legs. Her body ached for Bennett again.
