by Julie Cannon
“Are you going to memorize every detail or just take her home?”
Kyle was standing so close that her warm breath tickled Lane’s ear. The heat radiating off Kyle’s body intensified when she moved a fraction closer so that their bodies touched. There was no one else on the boat.
Lane consciously shifted her weight and leaned into the warm embrace. “I’m not sure yet.”
Kyle pressed her crotch into the firm ass in front of her and wrapped her arms around Lane. “What do you need to decide?”
“I need to be comfortable that I can handle her. I have to know she’ll respond unquestionably to my commands.” Lane ran her fingers down the bare arms that encircled her waist. Kyle shivered when her nails replaced her fingertips.
Are we talking about the boat? “From what I’ve seen, I think she’d do anything you ask her to. Even more if you let her.”
“Think so?” Lane had a difficult time concentrating as Kyle nibbled on her ear.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well, since you put it that way,” Lane slid out of Kyle’s embrace and headed toward the cabin door, “I think I will take her home.” She took Kyle’s hand and when they were topside grabbed a brochure off the table. She was seriously thinking about getting a boat and the one they just stepped off of was perfect. Lane continued to hold Kyle’s hand as they walked through the thinning crowd of people and out into the cool night air. “Do you sail, Detective?”
Kyle had been concentrating on the fact that Lane was leading her in no uncertain terms back to the car and most likely into her bed. “Excuse me?”
Lane smiled. “I asked if you sailed?” She’s rattled again.
“As in a sailboat?”
“Is there any other?”
Kyle was not a sailor by any means and she searched her mind to see if that was a real question or a continuation of the innuendo they had begun on the boat. “We are talking about a boat, aren’t we?”
Lane stopped in the shadow of a tree cast by a street light and turned to Kyle. “Of course we are, silly. What else would we be talking about?” She was thrilled she could unhinge such a powerful woman.
“No I’ve never been on a sailboat. Have you?” Kyle commanded her head to clear.
Lane stepped closer and leaned in close to Kyle’s ear. “Yes, I have and if you pick the right one she’ll respond unquestionably to your commands and is soft and smooth in all the right places. That is if you can handle her.” Lane punctuated her statement by moving so that their breasts were touching.
Jesus Christ, I’m so hot I don’t even know what we’re talking about.
Lane’s voice got softer and huskier. “And I think you’d be able to handle her quite well, Detective. In your hands she’d do everything you’d want her to.”
Oh shit. Kyle couldn’t stop herself and she gently cupped Lane’s face. “Promise? I don’t have any experience in that area.”
The burning desire in Lane’s eyes mirrored the heat between Kyle’s legs, and she slowly lowered her head until their lips were not quite brushing.
“I have every faith in your ability, Detective.” Lane’s voice was just above a whisper.
She gasped as Kyle’s warm lips touched hers and began a gentle exploration. There was no space between them, and the heat continued to rise. Kyle’s touch was tentative on her face and her tongue traced the outline of her lips.
Kyle twisted her fingers into thick, wavy hair that felt like strands of silk. She caressed Lane’s back in a slow circular pattern, and when she moved her hands south, Lane moaned and stumbled backwards against a tree trunk. Kyle slipped a thigh between Lane’s legs and was rewarded with another moan.
She dragged her mouth away gasping for air. Am I going too fast? Even if their acquaintanceship had mostly comprised casual conversation until their recent dates, it wasn’t as if they were strangers.
“Touch me.” Lane’s throat was hoarse, and her body pounded with need. She didn’t care that they were in a public place. It had been far too long since she’d been kissed like this, and her body was alive. She shivered as she felt Kyle’s lips burn a trail across her face and neck as her hands slid under her shirt.
Kyle was so hot she could hardly breathe. Lane’s skin was warm and quivered where her hands traveled. Her fingers brushed over lace covered nipples, and Lane inhaled sharply filling Kyle’s hands with full breasts. Kneading the soft flesh, Kyle teased Lane’s hard nipples, alternatively tweaking and grazing them with her thumbs. Lane’s ragged breathing matched the teasing strokes.
Lane pulled her back into a fierce kiss grinding her lips against her even harder than Kyle thought imaginable. The world started spinning, and just when Kyle thought she might faint from lack of oxygen, Lane tore her mouth away.
“Touch me.”
This time the command had a very different meaning, and there was no doubt in Kyle’s mind what Lane was talking about. Reluctantly she pulled her hands away from Lane’s breasts and slid them slowly down her tight stomach. Shaking slightly, she opened the first button on Lane’s pants.
“Yes.” Lane whispered in her ear, further inflaming her burning desire.
The second button was easier, and when Lane swirled her tongue around her ear, Kyle didn’t even bother with the rest. She slid her hand under Lane’s silky panties and soft hair tickled her palm. She was on fire, her passion quickly taking her to a place she had never been. Her mind was screaming at her to slow down and savor the moment, but her body wasn’t listening. Lights flashed in her brain when Lane arched into her hand.
The instant her fingers encountered warm, wet flesh her pager went off. Shit! Fuck! Not now! She stilled her hands. She was on the verge of being totally out of control.
“This had damn well better be good,” she mumbled breathing heavily trying to regain command of her senses.
Lane was instantly cool where she had once been blistering hot. She took a deep breath and studied the face of the first woman she had wanted to have touch her since her surgery. Sarcastically, she said, “So much for living on the edge.”
“This is a little too close to the edge for me.” Kyle glanced around the very public location they’d chosen for their very private activity. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to get this.”
She started to turn away and reach for her phone. She was stopped by a trembling hand on her arm. Then, Lane softly caressed her cheek.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It would have been terribly em-barrassing to be arrested for indecent exposure at my age.” Lane smiled when the soft teasing produced the desired result—a smile from the tough detective.
Twenty minutes later Kyle was standing over a dead twenty-year-old, and Lane was standing naked in a cold shower.
*
Lane was bent over her desk sorting through the bills that had arrived in the day’s mail. I really need to hire someone to do this. She knew every aspect of her business, and in the beginning it was easy to handle all the administration herself; but as the restaurant grew, it became more and more difficult to keep it all straight. She never minded the paperwork side of the business, but since her surgery she found that she’d rather be spending her time with her customers than with a calculator.
Her attempts at organization were mercifully interrupted by the telephone. She immediately forgot about reconciling the accounts and picked up the receiver. She smiled at the voice on the other end. “Hello, Detective.”
God it’s good to hear her voice. Kyle had spent the entire night conducting the preliminary stages of the investigation of the murder of a junior at Cal State, Spencer Collins. The crime scene was ugly even by a seasoned detective’s standards with blood spatter covering just about every surface of the room where Collins was discovered. His parents had bought him the condo that held his dead body. He’d been stabbed with what the coroner preliminarily identified as a large blade knife and, from the number of wounds, the attack appeared to be emotionally motivated.
“Hello yourself, Ms. Co
nnor. How is your day going?” Kyle immediately felt refreshed just making small talk with this woman.
“Probably better than yours. Did you get any sleep?” I know I didn’t for an altogether different reason.
Kyle thought about the four empty coffee cups she had left in the dumpster outside the station. “No, I just got back to my desk.”
Lane felt a wave of sympathy for her. “Does this happen often?”
Kyle put her feet on her desk and rubbed her hands across her tired face. “Sometimes. The first twenty-four hours of an investigation are the most critical. The evidence is the freshest, and the witnesses haven’t forgotten anything yet.”
Kyle usually didn’t reveal so much about her work to the women she dated. She always had the impression they were asking due to morbid curiosity, and she was not going to be used to satisfy their thirst for true crime. She didn’t get that impression with Lane.
“Can I bring you anything? Some coffee or something to eat?” Lane glanced at the clock. “Oh my goodness Kyle, it’s after two. Have you eaten anything?”
“I grabbed a bite before I came in. It certainly wasn’t your cinnamon muffin, but it did take care of the hunger pangs.” The muffins served at The SandPiper were the best Kyle had ever tasted.
“Okay, but if you need anything will you call me?”
“Yes. And Lane…I want to apologize again for last night. The life of a detective has its perks, but sometimes it sucks big time, and last night was one of them.” Kyle had had a hard time concentrating on her crime scene as all her blood settled in her crotch at the memory of Lane’s kisses.
“Perks? What kind of perks?”
“Well, the fact that I get to be called ‘Detective’ by a gorgeous woman. That doesn’t happen to just any old cop you know.”
Lane could hear the fatigue in Kyle’s voice. “Well, what do you know. We have something else in common. I don’t call just any old cop ‘Detective.’” She liked using the professional moniker.
Kyle warmed inside. “I’ll remember that.” She saw her captain motion for her. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure, call me when you can.” Lane didn’t want to add any extra pressure to Kyle’s already heavy burdens.
“Okay. And Lane?”
“Yes,” Lane replied expectantly.
“I really enjoyed myself last night.” Kyle hadn’t felt this good since Alison died.
Lane smiled as she flushed with desire. “I did too. Maybe next time we’ll get to go sailing.”
Kyle smiled at the innuendo. “I look forward to it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Kyle hung up the phone, gathered her notebook and dragged herself out of the chair.
*
It was more like four days later when Kyle called, and she couldn’t hide the weariness in her voice. “I’m sorry.”
Lane’s heart tugged when she heard the apology. “Kyle, you don’t have to apologize.” She didn’t get to finish her thought.
Kyle’s voice was stronger this time. “Yes, I do. I said I’d call on Thursday and today’s Monday. I got tied up in this investigation and I’ve hardly even been home.”
That was an understatement. Spencer Collins was the only son of State Senator Marcus Collins who wasted no time in throwing his considerable weight around with the Chief of Police. He demanded hourly updates of the investigation in the murder of his son, and between pacifying the Senator, the Chief and actually conducting the investigation, she had only been home to shower and change her clothes.
“I know. I saw you on the news.”
Lane had been flipping through the channels when a familiar face caught her attention. Kyle was giving a statement to the media and they kept interrupting with questions. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the characteristic sharpness of her clothing was missing. During the press conference, Kyle had never lost her composure as she answered the same questions several times.
Kyle chuckled. “Yeah, not my finest hour, I’m afraid.”
Usually she had the patience necessary to deal with the incessant and frequently banal questions of the reporters. Kyle was exhausted and frustrated by Senator Collins’ interference in the case. They had a suspect, and she was worried that when they made an arrest, there would be a rush to justice. Senator Collins would not let up until his son’s killer was convicted.
“You’re too hard on yourself, Kyle.” She heard a long sigh.
“Are you free for lunch tomorrow? I should be able to get away for a while.” Kyle stretched her legs out on the couch and reached for the cold bottle of beer on the table next to her. She’d been home several hours, and in that time she’d used up all the hot water soaking in the tub. She had then spent the next hour playing with Hollie, and once the youngster had settled in for her morning nap, she had called Lane.
“Kyle, I don’t want to interfere—”
“I want to see you Lane.” Kyle’s response was more forceful than she intended. She was emotionally drained and physically exhausted and had to force herself to stay awake. She softened her tone. “And I have to eat, anyway, so I’ll be accomplishing two things at once.”
Chapter Eight
“What’s with the buckets of paint sitting by the front door?”
Lane was surprised to see Kyle walk through the door. She had expected her to call about lunch, but the sudden leap in her stomach told her that seeing Kyle in person was much better. Her pulse raced. Today Kyle was not wearing a jacket, and she envisioned the muscles that she had so closely touched a few days before beneath the blue oxford shirt. “Paint?”
Kyle smiled at Lane’s obvious distraction. She feels the way I do when I see her. “Yes, paint. You know the stuff you put on the walls for color,” Kyle said mischievously.
“I can see why they made you a detective. You’re pretty sharp. I bet nothing gets by you.” Lane started to walk past her to retrieve the paint. She was stopped by Kyle’s warm hand on her arm.
“Does that include you?” Kyle stepped close enough that her forearm barely brushed against Lane’s breasts. Her eyes seductively roamed over Lane’s body while she waited for her answer. Lane felt her nipples harden at the light touch, and a jolt of passion exploded in her groin. She leaned into the hard body in front of her, knowing that Kyle was aware of her arousal. “Do you want me to get by you?”
“What do you think?”
Kyle gazed intently into the smoldering eyes that taunted her. She knew that with one word she could have Lane right here, right now. Yeah, right, and she could have me right here, right now too. She lowered her eyes to the red lips that had caressed her own so briefly just days ago. Her breath caught in her throat when Lane’s tongue snaked out and unconsciously licked them.
Lane’s desire was so overwhelming it took several moments for Kyle’s question to sink in. Teasing lips were inches from hers, and she slid her free hand behind Kyle’s neck. Closing the distance between them, she softly whispered, “I think you’d better kiss me again.”
Her head exploded at the contact, and she swayed against the hard body in front of her. She forgot where she was and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.
Kyle caught her breath as their tongues met. She reeled from the sensations coursing through her body. The feel of this woman in her arms again was so right and natural, she wanted to hold her forever. Lane grasped her neck tighter. Kyle almost fell completely into the kiss but somehow common sense fought its way to the surface. She pulled away.
“Lane, we’re standing in the middle of your doorway. People are going to want to come in.” Her breath was ragged and her hands trembled.
Lane couldn’t have cared less where they were or who was coming in. All she knew was the exquisite feeling of being in Kyle’s arms. Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she stepped away from the object of her desire, amazed her legs were still holding her up.
“Yeah, you’re right. Are you always so level headed?”
Passion-fille
d eyes returned her gaze. “God, I hope not.”
They finished their lunch quickly, and Lane answered Kyle’s original question. “I’m painting the patio this weekend. The weather and the salt do a real number out here, and it’s starting to look a little ragged.”
Kyle looked around the outdoor seating area. Kyle’s trained eye could see the places that Lane talked about. However Kyle doubted that anyone else would notice. “Did you say you are painting the patio?”
“Of course! I painted it the first time and the second, and I can certainly do it this time. Some of the wait staff offered to help again this year. We close it off to customers first thing Saturday morning and open it again Sunday morning.”
“Would you like an extra hand?”
Lane was distracted when Kyle stretched her legs under the table. Her navy trousers pulled snugly over her thighs, accentuating the tight muscles beneath. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Kyle swallowed a smile, enjoying Lane’s flustered glances. “I asked if you’d like an extra pair of hands. I’ve been known to paint a pretty straight line.”
The exercise would do her good; she needed to get her mind off the stalemate in several of her cases. The only positive outcome in the past few days was the arrest of Spencer Collins’s killer. Their investigation had led them to his ex-girlfriend, who folded like a house of cards five minutes into the interrogation. According to the girl, Senator Collins didn’t approve of her and had demanded that his son end their relationship or he would cut off all financial support. Spencer did as he was told, and the ex was pissed and stabbed him fourteen times. The senator was not nearly as grateful as he was critical of the department’s handling of his son’s case. Kyle hadn’t expected anything different, so she wouldn’t lose any sleep. Right now, all that mattered to her was being with the woman sitting in front of her.
