by Radclyffe
“What do you say we have some dinner. I think we can safely celebrate. You
really nail—”
“Ah, thanks, no,” Dev said, sidestepping into the central aisle. “I appreciate it,
but I’ve got another appointment. Call me and let me know about tomorrow.”
“All right. Thanks again!”
The aisle was clearer now, and Dev pushed hurriedly through the double doors
into the hallway beyond. It was empty, and the pain of disappointment was so
sharp she gasped. Dazed, uncertain now that she had even seen her, Dev
mechanically pushed the down button on the elevator, stepped in, and rode to
the lobby.
She was halfway to the front doors when she heard her name.
“Dev?”
Spinning around, Dev saw her standing off to the side beneath a marble
archway. She stared for a heartbeat and then another, and when Leslie didn’t
disappear, she cautiously approached her.
“Les?”
“Hi,” Leslie said, smiling almost shyly.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mother told me you were coming down to testify, so I thought I’d do a little
reconnaissance and see what kind of ammunition the other side was using.”
Leslie brushed her hair away from her face, a nervous gesture that was totally
unlike her. She’d never actually been alone with Dev when she’d been aware of
what was between them. Not when there hadn’t been insurmountable barriers
keeping them apart.
She hadn’t been this keyed up around anyone ever, not Mike on their Þ rst date
or Rachel the Þ rst time they’d made love. The only person who had ever made
her feel anything like this buzzing excitement had been Dev, years ago, and
she’d failed to recognize what it meant then.
But she knew now. “You know, Þ eld research.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Dev couldn’t hide her foolish grin. She felt just about as dizzy as
she used to when she was sixteen and she’d leave school later than everyone
else because she’d had detention for showing up late or smart-mouthing a
teacher and Leslie would be waiting for her.
All her anger and resentment would fade at the Þ rst sight of Leslie’s smile. Dev
leaned her shoulder against the marble pillar, a wisp of the cocky teenager she’d
been in her stance. “So, Counselor. What do you think?”
Leslie edged closer, as if she were drawn by a magnet and helpless to resist the
pull. She did just barely manage to resist slipping her hand beneath the edge of
Dev’s jacket and touching her. But her Þ ngers quivered with the need for
contact. Her voice came out breathy, but she couldn’t control that either. “I
thought you were fabulous. If I ever see your name on an expert list, I’m
recommending we settle.”
Dev laughed, knowing Leslie was playing with her. It felt so good.
So good to tease with her again. She used to think it was the lake that created
the magic around them, that made the rest of the world fade away so there was
only the two of them. Maybe she’d been wrong, because they couldn’t be
farther from the lake than they were right now and she felt it still. The magic.
Watching the happiness light Leslie’s eyes, she felt the dream tremble and surge
back to life.
“Let me take you to dinner,” Leslie said quickly. “You’re not going right back,
are you?”
If she had intended to go home, Dev would have changed her plans
immediately. She shook her head. “I’m here until tomorrow.”
“Where are you staying?”
Dev told her, lifting her overnighter. “I should probably go check in now.” She
didn’t move, loath to let Leslie out of her sight. “I could meet you somewhere?”
“Why don’t I go with you?” Leslie said, having difÞ culty thinking clearly when
every nerve in her body was jangling. Since her mother had told her a week
before about Dev’s upcoming trial and she’d tracked down the details, she’d
anticipated seeing Dev. As the day had drawn closer, her anxiety—part
excitement, part uncertainty—had climbed exponentially to the point where she
could barely sleep. Now Dev was here, and she wasn’t wasting a minute of their
time together. “We can walk to dinner somewhere from your hotel.”
“Sure. That sounds great.” Dev thought anything sounded great as long as she
could spend the evening with Leslie. Like an addict who knew she would wake
up bathed in the clammy sweat of remorse and regret in the morning but who
nevertheless downed the next drink or shot the next line or laid down the next
bet, Dev reached for Leslie’s hand. She didn’t care how much it hurt tomorrow.
Tonight the wounds that never completely healed would fade for a few merciful
hours.
“Let’s go.”
Still holding Dev’s hand, Leslie hailed a cab and they climbed into the backseat.
Their thighs brushed as the cabbie swerved through rush-hour trafÞ c with the
reckless abandon of a man with a death wish.
At one point the cab jerked so violently that Leslie was thrown into Dev, and
Dev automatically curved her arm around Leslie’s shoulders.
Leslie wrapped her arm around Dev’s waist to steady herself. When the cab
resumed a somewhat smoother course, Leslie didn’t move away.
Dev stared straight ahead through the windshield, but she wasn’t watching the
trafÞ c or the street signs. She wasn’t aware of anything except Leslie leaning
against her and the pressure of Leslie’s arm wrapped around her middle. Her
heart was pounding, or maybe that was Leslie’s. Blood thundered through her
chest, heat kindled in the depths of her abdomen, and she shivered as waves of
arousal rolled through her. She stroked Leslie’s arm and her Þ ngertips burned.
“I can’t do this, Les,” Dev whispered, realizing that unlike the addict, she had no
tolerance for her addiction. The pleasure would destroy her long before
morning. “I thought I could. But I can’t.”
“Do what?” Leslie murmured, following the pulse rippling along Dev’s neck
through heavy lids. Her body felt tight, like ripe fruit ready to burst in the sun.
“I can’t be this close to you.” Dev shuddered as Leslie smoothed her palm in a
gentle circle over the center of her stomach.
“You’re shaking.” Leslie drew away, searching Dev’s face anxiously, her heart
clenching at the agony in Dev’s dark eyes. “Oh, God, Dev, what’s wrong?”
“I thought I could be friends. Spend time with you, like friends.”
Dev’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “I can’t. Not now.” She edged
away on the seat but it wasn’t far enough. Two hundred miles hadn’t been far
enough to stop wanting her. Two thousand wouldn’t be.
“I’ll need to pass on dinner.”
“Hilton,” the cabbie grunted as he rocketed the cab into the turnaround and
slammed to a halt.
Leslie ignored him, her eyes on Dev. “I’m coming up with you.
We’ll just talk. Please, Dev.”
Leslie was hurting, Dev could hear it. And she thought if she had to watch the
cab drive away with Leslie inside, she’d end up howling like an animal with its
leg caught in a trap. She couldn’t let her go and she couldn’t be near her without
dying by inches. But given the choice between two miseries, she’d choose the
one thing she’d always craved.
Leslie.
Wordlessly, Dev nodded and got out of the cab. While Leslie paid the
cabdriver, Dev walked around and opened Leslie’s door, then extended her
hand. Leslie’s Þ ngers closed around hers, and the charge of ß esh on ß esh
almost rocked her back on her heels.
How could she say no? She could more easily stop her own heart from beating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Dev glanced over her shoulder impatiently while the hotel receptionist ran her
credit card and programmed her room key. Leslie was still there, waiting in the
lounge area adjacent to the front desk. Leslie seemed perfectly composed,
sitting with her shapely legs crossed, one arm resting along the curved edge of
the upholstered armchair, upper body angled so that she faced in Dev’s
direction. Dev was anything but composed. She needed something to settle her
down—
a cigarette, a drink, something—but she didn’t smoke and rarely drank more
than a glass or two of wine and the something that she needed was Leslie. God,
she needed her.
“Here you are,” the receptionist said with a smile. “Enjoy your stay, Dr.
Weber.”
“Thanks,” Dev said, waving off the bellman as she stuffed the paperwork into
her jacket pocket. With the plastic key card in one hand and her overnighter in
the other, she strode over to Leslie. “All set. I can take my things upstairs and
be down in Þ ve minutes if you want to wait here. We can go out to dinner right
away, if you’re hungry.”
Leslie stood, shaking her head. She slid the key card from Dev’s hand and
slipped her palm into its place. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Okay.”
It was a mistake, Dev knew it. But she couldn’t imagine sitting across from
Leslie in a restaurant, pretending she was hungry or trying to make casual
conversation. At least in her hotel room she would be spared the social charade.
They rode upstairs to the tenth ß oor in silence, their shoulders touching as they
made room for other guests. Leslie kept her hand in Dev’s the entire ride, their
Þ ngers loosely entwined.
Dev found the room, set her luggage down, and held out her hand for the key
card Leslie still carried. “Okay?”
“Yes. Very,” Leslie murmured, thinking that if Dev didn’t open the door and get
them inside soon, she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened out in the hall.
Dev looked so worried, so unsure, and Leslie hated to see her that way. It was
her fault, she knew it. Dev had always been there for her, always clear about
what she felt, always waiting for Leslie to understand. And now Dev didn’t trust
her.
Leslie was struck with a sudden stab of fear that maybe Dev had Þ nally
stopped waiting and moved on. Maybe her reluctance in the cab hadn’t been
because she didn’t trust Leslie’s feelings, but because she was no longer
available. Leslie panicked, unable to imagine what she would do if she lost Dev
now. “Hurry, Dev.”
Surprised by the urgency in Leslie’s voice, Dev sliced the card through the lock
slot, cranked the handle, and shoved the door open with her shoulder. She
kicked her overnighter into the room while holding the door for Leslie to enter.
She ß ipped the wall switch just inside the door, lighting a small bedside lamp
that suffused the room with muted light. The heavy ß oral drapes on the window
were closed.
Besides the king-size bed and entertainment console opposite it, there was a
small sitting area with a sofa, coffee table, and desk.
Dev took it all in at a glance as the door swung closed behind her, leaving her to
face Leslie, who waited a few feet away. Leslie took one step toward her, the
expression on her face one that Dev had never seen before. Her lips, shining and
moist with pale gloss, were slightly parted and curved tenderly at each corner.
Her blue eyes, shimmering like lake water in the sunlight, were Þ xed intently on
Dev’s. A rush of heat swept through Dev so quickly she caught her breath and
backed up a step, as if she could escape. Her back hit the door and she lifted
her hands, palms up, helplessly.
“Don’t, Les.”
“Why not?” Leslie murmured, running a Þ ngertip along the edge of Dev’s
jacket.
“I can’t take it,” Dev whispered. “I miss you so much, and I want you so
badly.”
Leslie slipped both hands beneath Dev’s jacket and traced the ridges of Dev’s
collarbones, leaning her lower body lightly into Dev.
Dev’s body was rigid, but still Leslie sensed the barely restrained
hunger, and she wanted it. God, how she wanted Dev to still want her in the
delirious, boundless way she had before. She wanted it like nothing else in her
life. “I miss you too. Terribly. Kiss me, Dev. Please.”
“You’ll break me,” Dev warned hoarsely. “If I kiss you, I won’t stop. Not this
time. I can’t.”
“I don’t want you to stop.” Leslie caressed one hand up the side of Dev’s neck
and behind her head, curling her Þ ngers into Dev’s hair.
She pulled slowly, easing Dev’s head back as she pressed her lips to Dev’s
throat. “I don’t want you to stop until you’re inside of me where you belong.”
Dev made a sound that was part groan, part sob, her hands ß at against the
door, Þ ngers ß exed against the metal. If she let go, if she touched her, she was
afraid of what she might do. She wanted her, had wanted her since she was old
enough to recognize her desire for a woman. And all the years of denial had
honed her craving until it ran dangerously close to the wild part of her that
functioned from primal memory, when mating dictated survival, not pleasure.
She wanted Leslie beyond civilized reason, because without her, some essential
part of her would die. She understood then why the great beasts tore and
slashed their mates in the frenzy of joining. The same need scorched through her
with unrelenting ß ame and fury. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
Laughing, eyes bright with exultation, Leslie pressed hard against her. Her full
breasts tensed with arousal. Her hips rolled in a slow rhythm of invitation. She
tightened her Þ ngers in Dev’s hair and slid her other hand around to Dev’s
back. She set her nails into ß esh through the thin fabric of Dev’s shirt, claiming
her. “You won’t. You can’t. I love you. I want you to take what’s yours.”
Leslie punctuated each word with her teeth on Dev’s neck, leaving marks, not
caring. She hadn’t known. All these years she hadn’t known what passion was,
what desire was, what belonging meant. She was liquid with desire, her need
simmering like lava buried for millennia and Þ nally streaking a path to freedom.
“I need you so much, Dev, please, please. God, come to bed with me.”
Dev couldn’t breathe. Leslie was all over her, stroking her, exciting her, reaching
inside and throwing open the bars on the passion she’d kept caged all her life.
She hurt. Her body quivered. A terrible pressure Þ lled her chest and belly,
threatening to explode. “Rachel…
what about—”
“Gone.” Leslie wrapped both arms tightly around Dev, her hands raking Dev’s
back. “I left her. I had to.” She tilted her head back, face suffused with need,
eyes pleading. “I want you. Help me, Dev. Touch me.”
Dev drew a breath, and another, each sweeter than the last. The painful
pressure eased, replaced by pleasure. The beast was free, still Þ erce, but no
longer hunted. No longer haunted. For the Þ rst time, she welcomed her
passion.
“I love you,” Dev whispered, cradling Leslie’s face as gently as if she were
holding a newborn bird. She brushed her mouth over Leslie’s, soft as a feather.
“I’ve always loved you.”
Eyes closed, Leslie offered her throat. “Forgive me.”
Dev kissed her throat, the hollow at the base of her neck, the V
bared by the open collar of her blouse. “There’s no need. Not now.
Not then.” She opened Leslie’s blouse, one button at a time, her hands shaking.
Carefully, she teased the bottom from beneath the waistband of Leslie’s skirt
until Leslie’s abdomen was bare and the satin cups of her bra exposed. Dev
splayed her hands over Leslie’s breasts and Leslie sagged against her.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” Dev murmured, teasing Leslie’s nipples into erection.
“I’m going to touch you everywhere.”
“I’ve never been this excited,” Leslie warned her breathlessly. “I feel like I’ll
come right away.”
“It’s okay if you have to. The Þ rst time.” Dev skimmed her tongue over the
surface of Leslie’s lower lip, then sucked gently. “I’m going to make love to you
all night.”
“I need you to.”
Dev kissed her again, tugging her nipples as she danced her tongue over the
warm inner recesses of her mouth. Leslie’s breasts seemed to swell and Þ ll her
hands, stretching the sheer fabric tightly over her tense nipples.
“Ready for bed?” Dev whispered, her mouth against Leslie’s ear. Dev’s thighs
and abdomen ached from holding back, from going slow. The sounds Leslie
made, the way she shivered as Dev plucked on her nipples, the insistent rocking
of her hips against Dev’s crotch were making Dev crazy. She wasn’t sure she
could hold out until Leslie touched her.
