Bell, Book and Dyke - New Exploits of Magical Lesbians

by Barbara Johnson, Karin Kallmaker, Therese Szymanski

  Them cat fighting over me might be wicked hot—especially if some sort of oil was involved—but whatever the hell it was that was going on right now was simply wrong.

  And I was wicked worried that I couldn't tell what Michele was thinking. It made me wonder what the hell she was up to.

  I topped off each wineglass and sat next to Sydney, across from Michele. Sydney worried I was upset because she Googled Michele.

  I put my hand on Sydney's. "Sydney, honey, I understand you're worried about me, but you have to understand that some of the folks I know sometimes get itchy if you start looking too stalkery—"

  "Sorry if I seemed to have overreacted," Michele said to Syd, cutting me off. "It's just that Ty's right. I had a stalker earlier this year and I'm still worried about people who seem too interested in me."

  Sydney wasn't believing her for a moment, but still she said, "I'm sorry. I'm just concerned for Tyler. I wanted to know a little bit more about your relationship." Sydney knew Michele and I were friends, and so she wanted Michele to like her, but I could tell she was afraid she'd ruined any possibility for that.

  It's simply amazing how many different thoughts one person can have in just a few seconds time. In rapid succession I sensed that she wasn't sorry, because she didn't trust Michele, and that she also couldn't shake the feeling Michele was after something with me.

  "Looks good," Michele said, unwrapping her corn and helping herself to salad.

  "Yes it does, baby, thank you for inviting me over for dinner with you and your friend," Syd said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

  I felt a quick flash of... was that jealousy? From Michele?

  "This is really good," Syd said, tucking in.

  "Ty, these are beautiful wineglasses," Michele said.

  "Thanks on the food, and thanks about the glasses. Mom got them years ago in Scotland. She really loved them."

  We ate dinner and the fur didn't fly for a while. I was wrong to relax.

  Chapter 9

  I managed to avoid any further confrontations between the two women during the rest of the meal, but then I had to worry about how I could possibly clear the table, and/or get another bottle of wine, and/or ask Sydney to go home, et cetera, without further badness occurring.

  I definitely had to separate these two, though. During dinner, Michele kept pulling me into remembrances of our times on set, working together, and both Sydney (in her mind), and myself (in my mind), wondered if she did it just to make Sydney jealous.

  "Hey, Michele," I said, when we finished eating, "would you mind finding another bottle of wine while we clear the table? Just bring it into the kitchen, okay?" I piled everything to take into the house. "Syd, can you grab the wineglasses and salad dressings please?"

  I led us in to the kitchen where, as we put everything away, I said, "Sydney, baby, I don't know why Michele's here—why she came or anything, but I think she and I need some time alone, because I don't think she's going to talk to me while you're here."

  "So you want me to go home now."

  "No, I don't, but I think you need to. She came a long way to see me, and I need to find out why. I don't think I'm going to while you're here."

  "I just wish I knew what she wanted."

  "That's what I'm going to find out."

  "I'm worried about her. And you."

  "Don't be," Michele said, coming up carrying a bottle each of white and ice wine. "Wasn't sure what you two would be in the mood for."

  "Oh, let's just go for the dessert wine," Sydney said with a smile, taking it from Michele's hand. She pulled out my also and quickly opened the wine, pouring some into each of our glasses.

  Michele put the other bottle on the counter and washed her hands. I picked up my glass from the table, and Syd handed Michele hers. Michele took it in her graceful fingers and as she raised it to her lips, it oh-so slowly slipped to crash to the kitchen floor.

  Oh shit!

  I heard the words as Michele's slender fingers rose to cover her mouth, her face a mask of disbelief. "Oh, god, oh god, Ty, I'm so sorry," she chanted.

  "It's all right," I told her as I set about cleaning the mess on the floor.

  "I'm so sorry, your mother..." Michele put her hand on my arm.

  Sydney couldn't believe Michele had dropped the glass. Michele was hoping I'd forgive her.

  "It's no big," I said.

  Sydney wanted to spend the night. She hoped I wasn't too attached to the glasses. She hated even thinking about me losing any of the few remnants of my folks I still had. Especially not something that meant anything. She couldn't believe Michele had broken a glass I had just expressed fondness toward.

  I was throwing the paper towels and glass shards into the trash when I heard them both clear their throats and make mumbling noises. There were not a lot of huggy feelings going on. I got clumsy with the glass.

  "Dammit," I said, sucking on my now-bleeding finger. Both women were suddenly at my sides. "Enough!" I said. I grabbed a paper towel and applied pressure to the wound. "Michele. Stay here. Grab another glass of wine—just, please, use a fruit glass or something. Sydney, let me walk you home."

  "But Ty—" Sydney said.

  "No. Michele—feel free to drink the entire bloody bottle. I may be gone a few minutes, 'kay? Good." I grabbed Sydney by the arm, then loosened my grip. I didn't want to hurt her or scare her off. "C'mon." I took her hand on the walk to her place. "Syd, I know you and Michele aren't getting along, and it's awkward trying to deal with both of you at once. I'm sorry about this, but—"

  "And which one of us is your girlfriend?"

  I smiled. "We're girlfriends now?"

  "I thought... Well... Last night... This morning..."

  I grabbed her and kissed her, hard. "I want to be your girlfriend. You saying that makes me very happy."

  She smiled and hugged me tightly. "So you'll spend the night here? Or are we at your place again tonight?"

  "Whoa, whoa, I've got to deal with Michele. My folks taught me to never burn bridges."

  "But I thought you'd given all that up now?"

  "I don't know what I'll be doing the rest of my life, so I don't want to piss her off or anything, okay?"

  "God—was she the one who dumped her boyfriend of a couple of years for you, or, huh, was that me?"

  I let go of her hand. "Oh, no. Don't do that. I thought you dumped him 'cause he was a co-dependent, overly jealous jerk. You dumping him for me after we've known each other this little bit of time is not a good sign for the future of this relationship."

  "Ty. I'm sorry. It's just I've got to go back to work on Monday and I was planning on spending some time with you. I'm not good with spontaneity, and I don't like plan changes—especially not when I'm..." She wrapped her body around mine and whispered into my ear, "looking forward to something the way I was to spending tonight and tomorrow with you. You're an amazing lover, you know?"

  The shiver that ran through her sent waves of pleasure shooting through me.

  I wondered if I could get Michele to spend the night over here and take Syd to my bed again tonight. "I need to do this, okay? Let me have tonight and I'll do my best to get her to leave tomorrow, okay?"

  "Are you sure about that?" she asked, staying wrapped around me and pulling us till her back was against the front door of her home. She lifted herself up so her legs were wrapped around my waist.

  I practically melted into her as our mouths met in hot, wet need. She arched against me and I sucked her pouty lower lip as I caressed up and down her sides with my hands, cupping her breasts and running my thumbs roughly over hardened nipples.

  "Oh, god, Ty," she said, bucking against me, grinding her heat into my bulky belt buckle. "You could probably make me come right here. Out in the open like this."

  Dear sweet Hecate and Hecuba, that was one fucking hell of a thought that turned me on to no end. I reached down to put my hands on her feet, which were shod only
in amazingly sexy strappy sandals, and slowly ran them roughly up her smooth legs, spreading my fingers to touch even more flesh as I got higher and higher up her legs.

  We were both breathing heavily by the time I reached her sweet, soft thighs. Never breaking contact with her hot body, I moved my left arm to wrap around her waist and help support her, while I used my right to cup her through her underwear.

  She gasped and writhed even more urgently against me as I began to rub her, and slowly explore her swollen folds through the silky material.

  Oh, for fuck's sake, I was in love with the girl, but that didn't mean I couldn't just fuck her. I fingered her through her soaked panties, and then slipped my fingers under the material to feel her directly. I used my thumb to play with her clit while my fingers stroked up and down until I thrust first two fingers, then three and four into her.

  I fucked her hard while my thumb flicked her swollen clit, teasing it back and forth.

  "Oh god, oh god, oh Ty, yes... yes... please... yessssss..." she said, riding my fingers even as I fucked her. With each thrust, she shoved herself harder against me, her breath hot on my neck, her nipples hard under her dress, her wetness all but pouring out of her.

  She kept biting, licking and kissing my neck as she rode the waves of pleasure, and suddenly I felt her tighten around my fingers.

  "Ty!" she screamed briefly, before biting my neck, hard. I continued stroking inside of her even as she ground her hips against me and spasmed around my fingers and scissored me with her legs. I held her against me, using the wall to help hold her aloft as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, till she was panting and hanging from me, wrung out like a piece of fine silk.

  "God, Ty, you're amazing," she whispered, still gasping for air. Her head rested on my shoulder, and she slowly lowered her feet to the ground.

  I reached into her little bag, pulled out her keys and unlocked her front door, all the while supporting her with an arm around her waist, since her legs were obviously quite shaky.

  Door open, I picked her up, and carried her swiftly and easily up to her bedroom. There was no way I was getting out of this without looking like a bloody asshole. Sure, yeah, I could spend the night here and totally blow off Michele, thus being an asshole to her. But even if she didn't blacklist me and burn my effigy at the stake for that—if she didn't leave town first thing in the morning— I'd eventually have to have it out with her.

  Now, there was no reason to put off till later what could be done now, except that I'd be being an asshole to Sydney, because then I'd be screwing her and leaving, which wasn't nice. But of course, she had seduced me on her front porch.

  Suddenly, the answer came to me: I laid a sweet sleep spell on Sydney as soon as I placed her on her bed. I took off her shoes and dress, leaving her only in her thong, and tucked her in. Then I snuck out of her house, being careful to lock the door behind me. I hoped she'd stay unconscious till morning.

  It was when I was walking back home, thinking about Sydney, and feeling guilty not only for putting a spell on her, but also for just leaving her like that after we had just, well, it wasn't making love, certainly. After we'd just flicked on her front porch. That led me to thinking of guilt and I remembered Michele dropping the wineglass and how she'd thought Oh, shit, and then I realized I hadn't been able to hear Michele think all night, so that led me to wonder if she'd just thought that loud and hard enough to break through whatever barrier she'd had up, or if she'd let down her barrier for just the moment it took for that to get through.

  Of course, that supposed it had been Michelle thinking it. Who else could it be, since we three were the only ones present? It made no sense for Sydney to think so loudly and vehemently Oh, shit. Unless, of course, she was reacting with empathy toward me.

  Or if there’d been some other reason she didn't want Michele to drop the glass. Like if she'd put something in the wine.

  I stopped in my tracks. Where the hell'd that thought come from? I hated that bad thoughts kept popping into my head. Why would I think such a thing of my lover?

  When I walked into my home and didn't immediately see Michele, I sent out little mental sensors to try and locate her and yelled, "Michele?"

  A pulse of her presence came from the basement. "Michele?" I called again, walking toward the stairs.

  "I'm down here, Ty!" she called. It seemed like it was only then that the downstairs' lights came on, but maybe it was just that I was approaching the staircase at an angle.

  "Whatcha doin'?" I asked, jumping the last few stairs.

  "Studying for a math test." She was gracefully moving through some motions with both hands on the leather grip of one of my short swords.

  "You been down here since I left?" I hoped I had been imagining the lights coming on only as I approached the basement. It'd be pretty embarrassing if she had seen Syd and I on Syd's porch and holy-mother-of-God I hadn't washed my hands!

  "Pretty much so." She turned to face me and smiled. "I just couldn't resist—so many fun toys! I hope you don't mind."

  Clasping my hands behind my back I said, "No, not at all. Why don't we go upstairs, have a glass of wine and talk?"

  She put the sword back and followed me up to the kitchen.

  "Why don't you pour us a couple of glasses and I'll be right back?" I didn't give her a chance to answer before I bolted up to my bedroom to check my pants and use the bathroom sink. I had no excuse to scrub my hands, except for having a lot of Syd still all over them, and I didn't want to share that with Michele.

  Granted, it can sometimes be wicked nice to smell a woman on your hands—y'know, just catch a whiff when you put your Chapstick on or such—but right now, when I was about to have an intense convo with Michele? Not so much.

  But as I was leaving the bathroom, I realized my closet door was open. No way no how had I left it like that. Ever since my last visit to Black Hole land, I'd been careful to ensure I kept it closed tight.

  Its being open now meant one of two things. One, someone had gone from the house into my closet. Two, someone (or some thing) had come from my closet into my house.

  When I had walked into the house, I did not immediately sense Michele in it. Then she was in the basement, as if from nowhere, and then the lights came on suddenly.

  Huh. Curiouser and curiouser.

  I sent out my sonar and found Michele in the living room. I still couldn't read her mind. I widened my sonar enough to ensure Sydney was still asleep in her bed.

  I snuck down the hall to the guest room, and cursed when I realized I ought to have brought a flashlight with me. I could probably turn on the overhead light without Michele noticing, but I didn't want to risk it. It wouldn't be so easy to accuse her of malfeasance if I was caught searching her possessions.

  But I was going to search, regardless. Without thinking about it, I lifted my hand, palm up, and said, "Illuminate.'"

  A ball of fire appeared in my hand, and I almost screamed and dropped it before I realized it didn't hurt at all.

  I had just performed my first spell. Well, unless of course quickly whispered prayers before my more difficult and dangerous stunts were spells of safety or some such.

  It felt good. It felt right. I felt powerful.

  Michele was tidy. Her clothes hung in the closet, her intimate items were in the drawers of the bureau, and her toiletries were in the attached bathroom, as to be expected. But what happened to her suitcase? Well, she would've tucked it neatly under the bed or in her closet. I'd already looked in the closet and it wasn't there— but it was nicely hidden under the bed.

  And lookie there, little Michele hadn't quite completely unpacked.

  At first I thought it was a script she'd maybe read on the plane and disliked so much she left it in her suitcase. It was a script-sized and -shaped binding of papers. But when I opened the binding, I found it was actually newspaper clippings, computer print-outs of articles and other Internet materials, such as historical docume
nts, spells, genealogies and a tasty looking recipe for a three-layer chocolate mousse torte. There were also a few drawings and pages torn from magazines included in it.

  It was all about me and my family. Trade and industry papers reporting on things about us. Our history.

  "I would have brought that downstairs, but I couldn't in case you weren't alone when you got back from Sydney's," Michele said from the doorway.

  I just about jumped through the roof. The binder and all the papers went flying, and the ball of fire almost touched the ceiling. Given all choices, I rushed to catch the flying flames. I was normally a calm and collected sort of person, but this was all too much. "What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on someone like that?"

  "I didn't sneak up on you, and anyway, you were searching my stuff."

  "Well, it might be your stuff, but it's in my house!"

  "So that gives you the right to search it?"

  "No, but that isn't the point. The point is that you snuck up on me and almost scared me witless. I could have burned down the whole damn house!"

  "With that ball of fire you've got in your hand."

  "Yes with this"—I flipped on the overhead light and closed my fist on the fire—"ball of flame which is a magic trick since I'm thinking about taking up magic during my retirement from Hollywood. And all of that is beside the point."

  "And what is the point?" she asked with a little half-smile and a raised eyebrow.

  "The point now is . . . well. Michele, this is all stalker-crazy shit." I indicated the binder and pages now all over the floor. "What the hell are you up to?"

  "Doing what your mother asked me to and helping you."

  "Helping me? How is getting all stalkery and searching my stuff helping me?"

  "Searching your stuff? Excuse me, whose room are we in and whose stuff were you looking through?" She stepped up into my personal space.

  "Hey, it's technically my room since it's in the house that belongs to me. And I only did it when I realized you'd been snooping around while I was walking Sydney home!"