Breathless

by Radclyffe

  “I want you,” Leslie said, her blue eyes hazy. She fumbled with the waistband of her dark canvas pants, then lifted her hips and pushed them down. Her eyes opened wide. “Oh my God, this bench is cold.”

  Dev laughed and pulled off her jacket, turning it inside out for Leslie to sit on. “Better?”

  “Almost. I need you to warm me up a little bit more, though.”

  Dev leaned between Leslie’s legs, kissing her breasts through her parted shirt and working her way down the center of her stomach. Leslie’s belly tightened and her hips lifted.

  Leslie sighed. “I’ve been thinking about this all the way up here. I don’t think I can last more than a few seconds.”

  “Then you don’t have to.” Dev kissed the hollow inside Leslie’s hip bone, then braced her palms on the inside of Leslie’s thighs and parted her legs. She ran her tongue lightly between Leslie’s lips, savoring the clear sweet taste of her.

  Leslie’s hips jumped and a small moan escaped her throat. “Oh, baby. Don’t tease me today.” Leslie tugged at Dev’s hair, short fitful movements. Her thighs trembled beneath Dev’s fingertips.

  “I love how hot and wet you are,” Dev murmured.

  “Make me come,” Leslie whispered.

  Dev kissed low on Leslie’s belly, then lower, on the base of her clitoris and beneath the hood, light, feathery kisses until Leslie’s hands tightened in her hair and signaled she was close. Ever so slowly Dev sucked her into her mouth with the firm steady pressure she knew would take Leslie to the edge. She waited for the sound, for the unconscious whimper that proceeded Leslie’s fall into pleasure. When it came, she sucked Leslie harder, driving her over, again and again.

  “Enough, enough, baby,” Leslie finally gasped, pushing Dev’s face away.

  Dev laughed and rocked back on her heels. “You sure? Usually when you haven’t seen me for a while it’s a double feature.”

  Leslie swatted her shoulder. “I want the second act in bed when my ass isn’t freezing.”

  Dev helped Leslie pull up her pants and then settled on the bench beside her, gathering the sleeping bag around them. “I love making you come.”

  “Good for me,” Leslie said, cuddling against Dev’s side, her arm wrapped around Dev’s middle underneath her jacket. “You okay?”

  “I’ll last a while.” Dev nuzzled her cheek against Leslie’s hair. “You smell like sunshine.”

  “You smell like woodsmoke. I love that smell.”

  “How long are you up for this time?” Dev prepared herself for the little bit of disappointment that always followed the pleasure of Leslie’s arrival.

  “A while.” Leslie fished around inside her jacket and pulled out a piece of letter-sized paper. She handed it to Dev. “Got some new office stationery.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dev said absently. She wasn’t tracking. Her mind was still a little hazy. Making Leslie come pretty much warped all her synapses for a while. Dutifully, she glanced at the cream-colored embossed paper, noting the name of Leslie’s high-profile law firm. Leslie was a partner and had worked damned hard to get there. Dev was incredibly proud of her, even though they sometimes worked opposite sides of an issue. She scanned the names running down the left-hand side, wondering how many new associates they’d added, and then registered the change. Leslie’s name wasn’t listed under the New York City office any longer. It headed the list under the smaller Albany division. She dropped the stationery onto her lap and cupped Leslie’s chin, searching her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m relocating. I’m moving back here.”

  “I thought you always said you needed to be in New York to handle the big cases.”

  “I can’t stand being away from you. And if the big cases want me, they can come to where I am.” Leslie took Dev’s face in her hands. “I love you. Time is too short. I’m coming home, so you better start house hunting.”

  “What, you don’t want to live in the cabin at your parents’ place?”

  “I think I’m too old to live with my mother and father, even if they do adore you.”

  Dev grinned. “Any place in particular?”

  “I only have three requirements—the same three I’ve had since we were fifteen. I need to wake up in the morning to the scent of pine forest, the sound of waves against the shore, and the feel of your arms around me. I need to be home, where you are. I forgot that once. I won’t again.”

  “I love you, Les.” Dev pulled Leslie up by the hand. “Come on, I have a castle to show you.”

  Laughing, Leslie said, “Okay. A little bigger than I imagined, but why not.”

  Dev kissed her. “Welcome home, baby.”

  Julie Cannon is a corporate stiff by day and dreamer by night. She has seven books published by Bold Strokes Books. Her latest, Descent, published in July 2010 follows Power Play, Just Business, Uncharted Passage, Heartland, Heart to Heart, and Come and Get Me. Julie has also published four short stories in Bold Strokes anthologies. Recent transplants to Houston, Julie and her partner Laura live on a lake with their two kids, two dogs, and a cat. Visit her at www.juliecannon.com.

  The characters in “Come Back to Me” first appeared in Come and Get Me, published in 2007.

  Come Back to Me

  Julie Cannon

  “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  Hey, Lauren, love of my life, I can tell from your deep, rhythmic breathing you’re not going to answer. As much as I want you to, that’s okay. You need your rest. The last few days have been tough, so as long as you can hear me, that’s all that matters.

  “We were at that charity thing at the Lincoln Hotel. My life was for shit and even though it was for a good cause, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Then you barged into my life in your little black dress, Charisma perfume, and don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. You were the most aggravating woman I’d ever met, and my world hasn’t been the same since.”

  The image of you standing in front of me, your chin high, eyes blazing is as clear today as it was twelve years ago.

  “Did I ever tell you that it had probably been years since someone stood up to me like that? Boy, doesn’t that ever sound pompous. But then again I was Elliott Foster, investment banker, maker of millions, woman-about-town. Nobody contradicted me or had the guts to say anything out loud. Everybody wanted something from me. Except you. You didn’t want anything to do with me. And as shocking as it was, that’s when I was hooked.

  “I never told you this, but from that minute you were all I ever thought about. It was the weirdest thing. Here I was, thirty-six years old, and it was the first time a woman had totally dominated me. And I had no fucking clue what to do about it. For a smart girl I was pretty stupid.

  “I remember when we went to that HRC dinner. You had on that tuxedo vest with nothing underneath. When you took off your jacket, I thought I was going to die. It made me nuts to watch the men slobber all over themselves looking at you. I didn’t want anyone imagining doing to you what I wanted to do.

  “God, I loved touching you. Your skin was so soft and warm. The way you felt in my arms when we were dancing—it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I never wanted to let you go.

  “I wanted you so bad. You didn’t know, but when you went to the ladies’ room I actually scoped out a place where we could be alone. Okay, I admit all I could think about was getting you naked. Or at least getting my hands down your pants. God, if I’d have known it would be weeks before I finally touched you, I would have dragged you away.

  “I’ll always remember exactly where I was when you threw down the gauntlet. I was wrapped in a towel, fresh from the shower and you were on my answering machine. I can hear your voice now: ‘The ball’s in your court now, Elliott. I won’t approach you again. If you want me, you’ll have to come and get me.’ I saved that message. I took the tape and put it in my safe at the office. Of course, that was after I chased you until you caught me.”

  I laugh at my own play on words and you stil
l don’t move.

  “I wish I could wake you up and show you how much I still want you. I could take you right here, right now, you still have that effect on me. Lesbian bed death is definitely not alive in our house. You were my alarm clock Tuesday morning. No better way to begin the day than by making love with the woman you love.”

  Neither my voice nor the noises in the hall have woken you. I want you to open your eyes and talk to me. I love it when we reminisce about our life together. I still can’t believe you’re my girl.

  “Remember when we were on that flight to Hong Kong? I don’t know what got into you, but I had to bite my lip when you went in me. Thank God it was dark and the blankets were extra large. You were crazy. I remember the shock when I realized your hands were intent on doing more than simply lying quietly on my leg. If I’d have known you’d turn into a sex-crazed maniac I’d have invited you along on one of my business trips earlier.

  “Yes, Hong Kong. That was the trip I bought you the Rolex. You were insistent that you didn’t need anything so extravagant, but I was not going to be convinced. You deserved the best then and still do every day.”

  I wonder where it is? Normally if it’s not on your wrist it’s in your jewelry box next to the Movado, Tag Heuer, and your trusty Timex IronMan. That watch is almost fifteen years old and you still wear it. Was it only a few days ago we joked about how it was one of the last things you had from your single days? That and the dishes in our cabin on Lake Michigan.

  “I’m thinking about the cabin. You were insistent we needed a place to reconnect, unwind, and unplug. No cell phones, BlackBerrys, or wi-fi. I remember looking at you as if you had asked me to climb into a rocket and go to the moon. How in the hell was I going to survive without at least my BlackBerry?

  “I wanted the best for you, but you had something altogether different in mind. We ended up buying that fixer-upper on the most beautiful five acres I’ve ever seen. Those first few years we went up there all the time. By the time we were done I didn’t want to see another hammer or measuring tape the rest of my life. You almost fell off the roof when we were reshingling. You were so proud of the shed we built for the tractor. You designed the whole thing and it came out great. The dogs love to run and run when we go there. Just thinking about it makes my thumb throb. How many times did I hit it while we were building that addition to the kitchen? I’m surprised it’s not as flat as a pancake.”

  Warmth spreads through my body at the memory of how more than one remodeling project had been interrupted by our never-ending desire for each other. I ended up with sawdust in some very interesting places, but it was nowhere as painful as the case of poison ivy on your butt. In the end the cabin was ours, built practically with our own hands.

  “You told all our friends that it was just the way we wanted it, not somebody else’s built to their taste. It was the first thing we bought and worked on together. I wasn’t sure we could do it. A lot of couples can’t work together but we seemed to just know what each other was thinking almost before we did ourselves.”

  Your hair tickles my face and I gather you closer. We’re in a strange bed, but that isn’t unusual. We’ve traveled all over the world together—first class to Paris on our honeymoon, sitting with chickens and goats on a flight in Mozambique. Every place we’ve been has been paradise because we were together. How did I ever think I didn’t need anyone in my life this way? Damn it, those are not tears in my eyes. I’m not going to break down now. Not with you in my arms like this. Deep breath, swallow hard, okay. Back in control.

  “Remember Mason and Justin? They scared the holy hell out of me. When you said you wanted us to be foster parents, I thought you were nuts. I knew nothing about children and even less about how to be a parent, especially to kids who needed a foster home. When they showed up on our doorstep that night I was shaking so bad I thought I’d drop Mason when the social worker put him in my arms. He was so tiny. I remember wondering how anyone could beat such a helpless child. You were so good for them. Once they got some good food into their stomach and a few kind words, they really opened up.

  “Remember the look on your mother’s face when Justin asked her neighbor where her teeth were? I thought she was going to pop a cork. It was her idea to invite the lady in to meet all of us.”

  I stifle my laugh, but the laughter feels so much better than the tears. Even after eight years I still feel the pain when we had to give the boys back to their parents. They’d been with us for almost three years. God, that was hard. But I’m not going to talk about pain right now. You don’t need that reminder.

  “All those other kids in and out of our house. All they needed was stability and love. You have a never-ending supply, not just for the frightened children but for the parents that come into your office each day. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You care and you help them. You, sweetheart. You make a difference in people’s lives every day.

  “First the foster kids, then the kids we had together. Grace has your smile and your mannerisms. When she cocks that hip and gives me that look that says I have absolutely no clue, she is all you. Your mother said the same thing the other day. She told me Spence wanted to have a lemonade stand. Our son the entrepreneur. Good Lord, he’s only six and already making money. That’s my boy.”

  I can’t help but smile at the image of our son waving down cars passing through the neighborhood to land a sale.

  “Don’t worry about them, honey. My sister’s coming down tomorrow to help out. Between Stephanie and your mom, they’ll take good care of them. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother-in-law.”

  I feel your heart beat faster when I talk about our children. You had such difficult pregnancies and my heart stopped when you almost lost Spence early on. You were so beautiful when you were carrying our child. You radiated joy and happiness and insisted I feel every move and kick. Even if it was two o’clock in the morning. I was so lucky that you weren’t crabby and moody like other women. But my God, you were horny. I think we had more sex while you were pregnant than we did the first few years we were together. Of course, I wasn’t complaining.

  “I’ll never forget the day you went into labor. I was in the middle of negotiations with the union at Strattford. When Teresa came in and handed me a note that simply said It’s time I completely lost my mind. I ran out of there so fast and down the hall to the elevator. Those thirty floors felt like I was in the tallest building in the world. I still have that piece of paper. It’s in that box on the floor of my closet.

  “You amaze me, sweetheart. You are always so strong. A minor cut on Spence or Grace sends my heart racing and hands shaking so bad I can barely put on a Mickey Mouse Band-Aid.”

  I have no idea how you managed to give birth to two children—I can’t even conceive of it. But you did, and remember when the doctor put our daughter in your arms the first time? I cried. Me, who never cries. And I didn’t care who saw me.

  “You taught me how to love, Lauren. How to be a parent, a good parent. You taught me patience, how to slow down and enjoy every second of every day. You trusted me enough to show me love, true love.”

  I brush my lips over the bandage on your cheek. The doctor says there shouldn’t be too much of a scar. But I don’t care. You’re alive. You will always be beautiful to me. It’s finally quiet in the room. The constant beeping of the damn machine finally silenced a few hours ago.

  I promised myself I wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t do anything to distract you from getting well. But I can’t stand it any longer.

  “Please, Lauren, wake up.”

  My throat hurts. I’ve been talking for hours. Saying anything to penetrate the darkness of the night. The darkness that surrounds me has enclosed you in its grasp and you haven’t woken up. I won’t leave you until you do.

  “We need you, Lauren. Your smile lights up the room, your warmth keeps the harshness of the world away. You are strong when we are weak. You carry us when we can’t go any farther. You guide us when we don’t kn
ow what to do. We love you, sweetheart. No one more than I do.”

  There’s no stopping the tears now. I don’t care. I have no pride, no life without you. The nurse is here again to check your vital signs. She’s the same nurse I’ve seen for the last three nights. She looks at me and I see an understanding smile before she leaves as quietly as she always does. The door clicks closed.

  I cry without making a sound. Until you and the kids, I’d always wondered if I would ever be able to kill someone. There’s no doubt about it now. Without question I could use my bare hands to kill anyone who dared to lay a hand on my family.

  I’m glad the nutcase who shot you is dead. Killed by the police when they stormed your office. But I’m pissed I didn’t get the chance to kill the son of a bitch myself. I barely remember the detective telling me the details—some guy who’d lost custody of his children when you proved to the judge he was a danger to them. As if the bruises on his kids and his wife’s split lip and broken arm weren’t enough evidence.

  My tears wet your hair. I know you don’t mind. Just like the other times we’ve held each other and cried tears of joy and sorrow. The prayer that repeated over and over again when our children were born fills my mind and I say it again. I have to talk to God, plead for your life.

  “Please God, let her wake up. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I can’t do it without her. I’ll do anything if you just let her wake up.”

  What am I saying? How selfish is that?

  “God, don’t do it for me. Her children need her. They need their mother. Please let her wake up.”

  Please.

  “Don’t cry, baby.”

  The words are barely a whisper, but they sound like they’d been shouted from the roof top. My heart soars, a wave of relief crashing over me. The first rays of dawn are peeking through the mini blinds. It’s Christmas morning and a light snow is falling.