by Radclyffe
Re: Jae’s mistress
Bren didn’t recognize the email address. [email protected]. The message was short.
What is Jae afraid of?
Bren swept the cursor to delete, then hesitated, staring at the question. It isn’t Jae who’s afraid. But she couldn’t reveal herself that way—not about something she had never even told her friends. Why then, did it seem that this stranger already knew? Her finger trembled on the mouse, knowing she should ignore the message and move on, safe in her anonymity. Instead she answered, pushing against the walls of her own making.
Jae isn’t afraid. She’s waiting for the mistress brave enough to free her.
She pushed send, then closed her eyes and fervently wished for the message to dissolve in midair before it ever reached its target. What was she doing?
Her email alert beeped and Bren jumped, her heart racing. She was almost afraid to read the message. She opened her eyes and laughed at her own foolishness. A CNN news bulletin. Just to prove to herself she was being silly, she pushed send/receive again, knowing there would be nothing there. She was wrong.
I’m not afraid. Are you?
A minute passed. Two. Four. Bren didn’t move, her fingers completely motionless on the keyboard.
Afraid of what? she typed.
Her email program was set to download mail every five minutes. She could trigger it herself, but she didn’t. She had five minutes to get up and walk away from the computer. She could turn it off, and by morning, she’d be herself again. Not Melanie Richards caught in a shadow world populated with faceless women who knelt before her, waiting on her pleasure. Waiting for her pleasure. She didn’t move. The only sounds in the room were the quiet sighs of two women sleeping.
Her mail downloaded.
To free me. I’m waiting.
As each minute ticked away and Bren resisted the invitation, she breathed easier. She enjoyed games, even solitary ones, and she recognized this one. She wasn’t about to be seduced into revealing anything about herself, but she admired the attempt. Her mail automatically downloaded again.
The Blue Diamond Lounge. Any night after 10.
Bren gasped and quickly closed her email program, then pushed her chair back from the desk as if she could somehow escape the words on her screen. The Blue Diamond Lounge was on Delaware Avenue, a twenty-minute ride from her house.
*
Liz tiptoed into Bren’s office, Reilly close behind her. The ride back had been as silent as the trip to the river. Despite the distance between them, she’d been acutely aware of Reilly less than two feet away, rigidly staring straight ahead. The tight line of her jaw and the rigid set of her shoulders suggested anger, too, but Liz couldn’t fathom its source. The sadness and regret and even remorse she understood. There was more going on than she knew, but there were only so many wounds either of them could stand to open in one night, so she had kept silent.
“Hi,” Liz whispered to Bren, who sat behind her desk with an oddly blank expression. She might almost be sleeping with her eyes open. “Bren?”
Bren swiveled toward them in her chair and blinked, as if coming back to herself. She smiled. “Did you come to wake the sleeping beauties?”
“Beauty isn’t sleeping,” Candace murmured. “Only the beast is.”
Parker grunted and made a feeble attempt to dig her toes into Candace’s midsection. “The beast is awake and ornery.”
“You’re not allowed to be horny in your condition,” Candace warned.
Parker laughed, and then immediately moaned. “Jesus, don’t make me laugh. Ow. Damn.”
Reilly skirted around Liz to Parker’s side. She knelt by the sofa and rested her hand on the top of Parker’s head. “Breathe through your mouth and try not to laugh again. It increases the pressure in your head.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Candace said quickly. “Is she all right?”
“Can someone turn the lights up?” Reilly asked. “Parker, close your eyes.”
Liz reached behind her and raised the dimmer switch, slowly increasing the illumination from the brass chandelier in the center of the high ceiling. “Enough?”
“It’s good, thanks.” Reilly spent a few minutes examining Parker’s face. “Does your eye hurt? Not your eyelids or your cheekbone, but the eyeball itself?”
Parker hesitated and Candace leaned forward, her expression anxious.
“No,” Parker finally said. “Everything around it hurts, but my eye feels normal.”
“Is it moving beneath your eyelids? I don’t want to try to open your lids because at this point it’s only going to put more pressure on your eyeball.”
Again, Parker hesitated, and Candace slid her hand underneath the leg of Parker’s sweatpants and rubbed her calf. Bren had offered her the navy sweats to replace her softball shorts upon their arrival, and the pants were tight and too short for her.
“If you’re not sure, Parker,” Candace said, “we can go back to the emergency room.”
“No, no. I can tell. I’m okay.” Parker started to sit up and Reilly gently restrained her.
“Stay down,” Reilly instructed. “Changing position like that can also increase the pressure. If you want to sit up, roll on your side and ease up slowly with someone helping you.”
“How long is this going to go on,” Parker grumped. “I have to go to work in the morning.”
Liz laughed. “Parker, honey, you’re not going to work this week. You’ll scare the clients away.”
“Well, I at least have to work from home. I’ve got a dozen open files on my desk right now.”
“The swelling will increase for forty-eight hours, and then start to subside,” Reilly said. “We’ll get some more ice on it tonight, and the longer you ice it, the faster it will resolve. You might be presentable with sunglasses by the end of the week.”
“Better.” Parker closed her eyes, obviously exhausted.
Reilly stood. “I think everyone can relax. She looks fine. If anything changes, call me.”
Candace extricated herself from the tangle of Parker’s legs and stood. “Thanks.”
“Hey, I’m just glad she won’t be pitching this weekend. We ought to be a couple games ahead of them by the time she gets back.”
“Don’t count on it,” Parker muttered darkly.
“Well,” Reilly said, suddenly uneasy. “I better go.” She glanced at Liz. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Liz said, although she was quite sure they were saying goodbye. She watched her go, then slumped into the big overstuffed armchair. “What a night.”
“So where did you go?” Bren asked.
Candace looked from Bren to Liz. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Liz said. “I went for a walk and ran into Reilly. We took a ride for a few minutes, that’s all.” She shot Bren an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Were you worried?”
Bren blushed. “I should have been, but I got caught up doing something and didn’t realize until I heard you come back how long you’d been gone. You do keep your cell phone with you all the time, right?”
Liz rolled her eyes. “Yes, I have it. I promise I will never be out of contact.”
“So,” Candace said slowly, “I sensed a little…tension between you and Reilly.”
Liz studied Parker, wondering if she was listening.
“She’s out of it,” Candace said. “I can tell from the way she’s breathing.”
Bren smiled.
“We finally had our talk,” Liz said bleakly. “Let’s say there’s nothing like a good dose of reality to put the brakes on one’s libido.”
Candace shook her head. “Darling, haven’t you learned by now that you should never subject your libido to too much thought or introspection?”
“What did Reilly say?” Bren interjected.
“It’s complicated,” Liz said.
“Now there’s a news flash,” Candace muttered.
“Candace,” Bren said, her tone softly warning.
>
Candace held up her hands. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. It’s painful, but I’ll manage.”
Liz couldn’t help but laugh, which felt strange when so much of her resonated with sadness. “Long story short—she’s still got some unresolved issues with a former lover who died suddenly.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Bren said.
“Definitely trouble there,” Candace said.
“How long ago?” Bren asked.
“Quite some time. A few years.”
Bren nodded thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes we’re more ready than we realize to move on, and it takes meeting someone to recognize that.”
Liz studied her, wondering who besides Reilly she was referring to. “And then there’s the little matter of her not wanting children.”
“Deal breaker there,” Candace said nonchalantly.
“Yes,” Liz agreed.
Bren said nothing.
“So,” Candace said, obviously ready to change the subject. “What are we going to do to celebrate your birthday, Bren? You haven’t told us where you want to go yet.”
Bren smiled slowly. “Anywhere I want, right?”
“Sky’s the limit.”
“Okay then. The Blue Diamond.”
Candace gaped, for once without a comeback.
“Bren, sweetie,” Liz said carefully. “The Blue Diamond is a strip club.”
“I know.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Comfortable?” Dr. Marta Thompson asked.
“Oh, absolutely.” Liz tried not to grit her teeth. “Of course, I’m about to wet my pants. If I were wearing any.”
“She’s grumpy this morning,” Candace said, perched on a stool by Liz’s side.
“I’m not grumpy,” Liz grumped.
Marta laughed. “You’re allowed. This won’t take very long, and then you’ll be able to get rid of all that water in your bladder.”
“How about all the water in my feet,” Liz complained.
“How much swelling are we talking about?” Marta walked to the end of the examination table and pushed back the sheets. She pressed her thumb into Liz’s ankle. “I don’t see much right now.”
“Usually by the end of the day my shoes feel tight.”
“But not in the morning?”
“No.”
“It’s normal to have a little swelling in your legs after you’ve been active all day, particularly with the kind of heat we’ve been having. Try to prop them up whenever you can.”
“Oh, that’ll be easy,” Liz muttered, “when I’m in court all day or meeting with doctors and hospital administrators.”
“Liz, honey,” Candace murmured, leaning close to Liz’s ear, “you’re going from grumpy to bitchy.”
Liz glowered. “Just wait until you’re in this situation someday and see how much sympathy you get from me.”
Candace laughed, looking horrified. “Oh no. Never.”
The doctor smiled and exposed Liz’s abdomen, neatly folding the sheet across her pelvis. “Are you two ready to get a look at the baby?”
Liz nodded, suddenly anxious, and reached for Candace’s hand.
“Don’t worry,” Candace whispered. “This is going to be wonderful.”
The doctor adjusted the fetal monitor so Liz and Candace could hear the heartbeat as she moved the ultrasound probe over Liz’s uterus.
“It’s beating so fast,” Liz murmured.
“Fast is good,” Marta assured her. “Right now it’s around 150 beats a minute. Ah, here we are.” She pointed to the screen, her fingertips circling over an amorphous white blob about two inches long. “That’s the fetus.”
Liz stared, her chest tightening. It was so small, this foreign thing growing inside her. It didn’t look like anything. It could almost be a trick of the imagination. But seeing it, knowing it was there—a part of her, made her feel protective. “Can you tell anything about it?”
What she wanted to ask was Can you tell if there’s anything wrong with it?
“Can you tell if we’re having a girl or a boy?” Candace asked.
Liz smiled, despite the flash of sadness that this was not happening the way she had imagined.
“It’s a bit early to determine sex,” the doctor said, “although with this equipment we often get good enough resolution to do it. I’m actually looking at something called fetal nuchal translucency, which is a developmental sign that things are going along okay so far.”
“And?” Liz asked.
“Everything I’ve seen looks great. I don’t see a penis, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. And twelve weeks is just a little bit too soon to base sex on the three line sign.”
“Three lines?” Candace asked.
Marta put the probe away and covered Liz’s abdomen. “The labia will show up as three parallel lines. By sixteen to twenty weeks, I’ll feel very comfortable calling the sex if I see that or the penis.”
“But everything is all right so far?” Liz repeated.
“Everything is fine. Do you want a picture?”
“Two,” Liz said, her voice catching. “I want to send one to Andi—my sister.”
“You got it. After you get dressed, stop by my office and we’ll talk about what you can expect between now and the next visit.”
“Thanks.” Liz took the Polaroid prints and sat up on the side of the table. She studied them as Marta left the office. “Andi is going to love this.”
Candace leaned against Liz’s side, one arm around her waist. “That is so cool. I can’t believe your stomach is still so flat with all this going on inside it.”
Liz snorted. “Believe me, it doesn’t feel flat. I’m not even halfway there and I already feel like a water balloon.”
“Well, you don’t look it. You look great.” Candace kissed her cheek. “In fact, you look sexy as all hell.”
Suddenly, Liz was acutely aware of Candace’s breast against her arm, of the softness of her lips, of the subtle exotic scent of her perfume. Candace’s breath was warm against the side of her neck, and the heat streaked down and settled into the pit of her stomach.
“Liz. God, Liz.” Candace’s mouth skimmed the edge of Liz’s ear. “I miss you so much sometimes.”
Body memories surfaced—Candace holding her close in the middle of the night, teasing her awake with her knowing mouth and her clever hands, arching above her with a wild cry of exultation. Liz couldn’t help but respond in the arms of a woman who knew her, a woman who loved her. She’d been inside this woman, and Candace had been inside her—deeper than flesh, but it was her flesh every bit as much as her battered heart that cried out for more. Her nipples tightened and a ripple of excitement pulsed through her sex. She moaned softly.
“Oh yes,” Candace murmured, gripping Liz’s shoulders as her mouth brushed Liz’s.
Liz’s eyes flickered closed as want coiled in her depths, but the image she saw behind her trembling lids was not Candace’s face. She dragged herself free of the hot, lush sea of sensation and tried to focus. Candace’s eyes were a hazy blue, half lost to desire already. Liz eased away, stroking Candace’s cheek.
“Sweetie. No.”
“Why not,” Candace rasped. “You know I love you.”
“I know, but we can’t go back.”
Candace rested her forehead against Liz’s. “God, why not?”
“I don’t know.” Liz laughed shakily. “I can’t be called upon to think deep thoughts right now. I have to pee.”
“Well God.” Candace stepped back, breathing unevenly. “We can’t let a little seduction get in the way of your bathroom break.”
“Are you okay?” Liz averted her eyes from the hard knots of Candace’s nipples tenting her sheer silk blouse. Liz still throbbed in places that she didn’t want to be throbbing, and the thin hospital gown wasn’t much of a barrier. She hadn’t had sex in months, and her body ached more than she could ever remember not just for touch, but for release.
“I can live with being turn
ed on until I can find a fix.” Candace smiled uncertainly. “Are you mad?”
“No,” Liz said instantly. She climbed down from the table and started to dress. “I’m flattered.”
“I’d prefer you were dying to go to bed with me.”
Liz kept her face turned away because she didn’t want Candace to know just how aroused she really was. “Why ruin a beautiful friendship with something as tawdry as sex.”
Candace laughed. “Tawdry. True. But it feels so good when you’re doing it, and we were good. Remember?”
“Nope,” Liz said lightly, buttoning her blouse. “I can’t remember a thing about it.” She turned just as Candace put her hands on her hips with an indignant expression. “But I know I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
“Oh, I hate it when you do that,” Candace pouted.
“What?”
“Remind me about all the important things in life just when I’m trying to have a little fun.”
Laughing, Liz grabbed Candace’s hand. “Come on, walk me to the bathroom.”
“I guess there’s no chance of making out in the stalls like we used to do in the dorm, huh?”
“Candace.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m zipping.”
*
After Liz finished with the doctor, she and Candace met Bren for their Thursday afternoon lunch.
“I ordered drinks for us when you called,” Bren said as Liz and Candace settled across from her. “So tell me everything.”
“Look at this,” Liz said, passing the Polaroid across the table.
“Oh, will you look at that.” Delighted, Bren beamed at Liz. “It’s wonderful!”
“It’s pretty amazing,” Liz agreed.
“And everything is okay? Right on schedule?”
“Perfect.” Liz was aware of Candace silently downing her martini beside her, but didn’t know how to ease her obvious discomfort. She was still a little shocked at her own response to the unexpected kiss. That seemed to be happening a lot lately, too. First Reilly, now Candace. But even though she’d responded to Candace’s kiss, it seemed now more like just another memory from their past. She didn’t feel the urgent need to repeat it that she’d felt with Reilly, but maybe that was just because kissing Reilly was a new experience. Even as she thought it, she knew she was deluding herself. She’d felt a connection, an intimacy, with Reilly that she hadn’t felt with Julia in years. But it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t going to be kissing Reilly or Candace again.
