The Lonely Hearts Club

by Radclyffe

  “Open your vest,” Bren ordered.

  Without a second’s hesitation, Jae flicked open the single button and the leather parted, revealing her breasts just inches from Bren’s face. Her nipples were hard. Jae rolled her hips, her crotch a whisper away from Bren’s stomach.

  “Show me how you like your nipples touched,” Bren said. Her own nipples tightened as she watched Jae grasp her nipples, stretch them out, and twist rapidly.

  Jae grunted softly and her thigh muscles quivered. She murmured, “I want to rub myself against you. I need to feel you.”

  “Yes.”

  Immediately, Jae leaned forward, gripping Bren’s shoulder with one hand. Her breasts brushed Bren’s face, and the leather between her legs, supple and soft from the heat beneath, caressed Bren’s bare stomach.

  “Did you come when you went backstage?” Bren breathed the words against Jae’s throat as Jae undulated against her body.

  “No,” Jae gasped.

  “I’m not here to finish what someone else started.” Bren wanted to draw Jae’s nipple into her mouth and torture it with her teeth until Jae cried out. She ached to press her fingers into the vee between Jae’s thighs and work the smooth leather over her hard clit.

  “I won’t come without your permission,” Jae groaned.

  “You are not to come now.”

  “God, I ne—”

  “When you go home tonight,” Bren instructed, her lips caressing the hollow at the base of Jae’s throat, “I want you to make yourself come. I want you to imagine you’re licking me while you do.”

  Jae shuddered. “I’m close now.”

  “I don’t care.” Bren struggled not to grab Jae’s hips and thrust into her, knowing if she did they would both probably come. And this wasn’t the time or the place or the way she wanted it to happen. “How did you find me?”

  “I didn’t.” Jae’s voice was steel wire stretched to the breaking point. “You found me.”

  Bren couldn’t help herself. She bit the thick muscle at the base of Jae’s neck, once, sharply. “Behave.”

  “Oh God,” Jae arched her back, pushing herself into Bren’s body. “Please.”

  “Answer the question,” Bren murmured, licking the spot she’d just bitten.

  “I didn’t…know if you would...come.”

  Sweat dripped from Jae’s thighs and slicked the surface of Bren’s leather pants.

  “But I waited...every night.”

  The music was coming to an end, and Bren knew their time was almost up. She finally did what she’d been aching to do for so long she couldn’t remember the first time she’d imagined holding her in her arms. She skimmed both hands up Jae’s back, savoring her hot skin, and pulled her close. Jae dropped her head onto Bren’s shoulder.

  “Tell me your name,” Bren whispered against Jae’s ear.

  “When I dance,” the woman gasped, “I’m Jae.”

  Bren kissed the soft skin just below her earlobe. “The next time we meet, I’ll tell you mine.”

  When the lights came up, Jae slipped away.

  *

  “Who was that?” Liz asked. “I was trying not to be a voyeur, but it was kind of hard not to watch.”

  “One of the dancers.”

  “I got that part. But how did you end up with the lap dance?”

  “She offered, I said yes.”

  Liz laughed. “You don’t think you can get away with that, do you?”

  “Not for a second.” Bren looked around. “Candace is missing.”

  “Reilly and Parker didn’t come back, either.” Liz tried to keep her disappointment from showing. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. What do you think we should do about Candace?”

  Liz sighed. “I guess we should stay and wait for her.”

  “Here comes Reilly,” Bren said.

  Liz turned quickly. “Hi. I thought you’d gone.”

  “Parker’s asleep in my car. I think I should take her home.” Reilly regarded Liz intently. “I just wanted to say good night.”

  “Good night,” Liz said softly.

  “Hey,” Bren said, jumping up. “Reilly, maybe you could give Liz a ride home. I’ll stay here and wait for Candace.” She checked with Liz. “If you don’t mind me driving your car.”

  “No way am I leaving you here alone,” Liz said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Reilly and Liz said simultaneously.

  “Here she comes now,” Reilly said. She hesitated, then said to Liz, “Looks like everyone is accounted for.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you then. Take care.”

  “Thanks,” Liz said. “I will. You too.”

  “Right,” Reilly said, backing up a step. “Good night.”

  “’Night.” Liz frowned as Candace sauntered over to them. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I ran into an old friend. We’re going out for breakfast.”

  “It’s two in the morning,” Liz pointed out.

  “So we’ll have breakfast...later,” Candace said smugly.

  “Fine.” Liz grabbed Bren’s hand. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s go.”

  “Oh, hey, Bren,” Candace said. “Did you have an okay time?”

  Bren smiled. “It was just exactly what I wanted.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Reilly woke up a little after seven and went for a run, leaving Parker still asleep on the couch. She doubted Parker would wake up for another couple of hours, but she left a note with Parker’s clothes telling her there was a pot of fresh coffee in the kitchen just in case. On her return circuit, she stopped for bagels and immediately thought of the morning she and Liz had shared an impromptu breakfast. That was the day she had come upon Liz in the hospital ladies’ room being violently ill. From the flu, she recalled wryly. She couldn’t remember if Annie had ever had morning sickness, but she probably wouldn’t have recognized it in her either. Annie was so frequently ill with her diabetes, she probably would have blamed any sickness on that.

  Liz looked good last night. They hadn’t been able to talk much, what with everyone around and the noise level pretty much making conversation impossible, but she imagined Liz was almost over the worst of her morning sickness. She must be twelve or thirteen weeks now, even though she still didn’t look very pregnant. She didn’t feel very pregnant either. Liz’s waistline had been soft and supple when Reilly had held her on her lap. Liz’s whole body had felt soft and warm and tempting.

  Reilly couldn’t remember Liz ever being more relaxed, and she’d fit just about perfectly on Reilly’s lap. In fact, holding Liz had felt more natural than anything she had done in years, except operate, and that was so much a part of her she never even thought about it. Maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be with a woman too, something that came so naturally, that felt so much a part of you, it was almost like breathing.

  Eight o’clock. Still pretty early. Liz did say she got up early, though, and her condo was only a few short blocks away. On impulse, Reilly bought an extra half dozen bagels.

  Ten minutes later, she walked into the foyer of Liz’s apartment building, telling herself that if Liz didn’t answer after one short ring, she’d give it up. She hit Liz’s buzzer for a few seconds, expecting no answer. When the speaker crackled to life, she jumped.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Reilly. I’ve got bagels, but if you’re—”

  The speaker went dead, the door lock clicked open, and Reilly pushed through. The elevator was empty and within a minute she was standing in front of Liz’s door. She pressed the bell, her pulse hammering expectantly. She had to restrain herself from grinning too foolishly, but when the door swung open, her smile faded.

  “Hi,” a statuesque brunette said, her brows lifted in question. “I didn’t order any bagels, but I’ll be happy to take them off your hands.”

  Reilly surveyed the stranger, assuming from the wet hair and the short, black silk robe, underneath which she was obviou
sly naked, that she’d just gotten out of the shower. Reilly pointedly did not linger on the full breasts and hint of cleavage exposed where the robe parted in the center of her chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “I’m Julia,” the woman said. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and cocked one hip. “I guess you’re not the delivery boy.”

  “Not exactly.” Reilly held out one of the bags of bagels. “These are for Liz, but you’re welcome to share.”

  Julia smiled slowly and took the offered bag. “I’m not really big on sharing.”

  “No, I wouldn’t be either. Tell Liz I said hi.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  Reilly pivoted and headed back to the elevator. She didn’t hear the door close right away and sensed Julia watching her. Julia. Reilly might have guessed she was Liz’s lover even without hearing her name. Like Candace, Julia was voluptuous and seductive. Reilly glanced down at her T-shirt, cut off sweatpants, and running shoes. Definitely not in the same category as the woman who had just answered Liz’s door. Liz’s ex-lover. Or maybe Liz’s lover still.

  *

  “Bren,” Liz called from Bren’s kitchen. “Someone’s at the door.”

  When Bren didn’t answer, Liz put the coffee pot aside and headed for the living room. She could hear the shower running in Bren’s second-floor bathroom, so she answered the door herself.

  “Hi,” Candace said, breezing in with her arms filled with packages. “I figured you’d be here. I brought breakfast. I hope you two didn’t eat yet.”

  “We’re just getting going,” Liz said, taking a bag from Candace and heading back to the kitchen. She’d spent the night at Bren’s since it was so late when she dropped her off, and because she didn’t feel like going home to a cold and silent condo. Bren had provided her with a T-shirt and a pair of blue cotton checked boxers to sleep in, which she was still wearing. She’d spent the night on a futon in the room that had once been her old bedroom, and the familiarity had been comforting. She’d been tired, but keyed up, too. The arousal laden atmosphere of the club had stirred her up, and sitting on Reilly’s lap for half an hour had pretty much stoked her libido to the boiling point. Funny, she hadn’t the slightest inclination to take the edge off her desire herself. Consequently, she’d awakened in a black mood that the heavy thudding sensation in the pit of her stomach did nothing to alleviate.

  “Coffee should be done,” Liz said, knowing she sounded churlish and not caring. She doubted that Candace had awakened feeling undesirable and unsatisfied.

  “Good. I could use some.” Candace perched on one of the tall stools at the cook island opposite where Liz was setting out cups. “Do you believe that place last night? God, it was a turn on.”

  “The women weren’t exactly my style.”

  “Not even the last one?”

  Liz would have said no the day before, not ever having considered the leather scene or power play her kind of thing. However, watching a strong, powerful woman literally brought to her knees with desire had been arousing. “That was sexy.”

  “Yeah. I’ll say.” Candace rummaged around in one of the bags and pulled out a raspberry croissant. “Bren had fun, don’t you think? Did she say she had fun?”

  “I think she did,” Liz said, plunging the French press coffee maker. If Bren wanted Candace to know about the lap dance, she’d tell her. Obviously, Candace had been too wrapped up in her evening’s conquest to observe Bren’s decidedly unusual behavior.

  Candace broke off a piece of the croissant and nibbled it. “You and Reilly got pretty cozy.”

  Liz flushed. “I think we might be able to be friends. I’m glad about that.”

  “Looked like a little more than friendship to me,” Candace commented, reaching for an empty coffee cup from the stand on the end of the counter. She held it out to Liz. “The way you were cuddled up in her lap.”

  “I was sitting on her lap,” Liz said pointedly as she filled Candace’s cup, “because Parker wanted to talk to you. Not that you cared.”

  “Parker spent the evening having dinner and drinks with Reilly,” Candace said lightly. “That makes her Reilly’s date, and in case you didn’t notice, they looked very happy together when they arrived. I’m surprised you weren’t more bothered.”

  Liz restrained herself from slamming down the coffee pot on Bren’s new hand-painted tile countertop. “First of all, what Reilly does is not my business. Secondly, Parker was a little under the weather. And she spent most of the night trying to get your attention.”

  Candace turned sideways on the stool and crossed her legs with a careless shrug. “I don’t play seconds to anyone.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “What?” Candace exclaimed indignantly, spinning back to face Liz.

  “Uh-oh,” Bren said as she walked in. “What have I missed so far?”

  “Just Candace being a jerk.”

  “Just Liz being obnoxious.”

  Bren smiled and took the coffee mug Liz held out to her. “Oh, good. Nothing new. Mmm, are those croissants?”

  “Yes. There’s chocolate in there for you.” Candace glared at Liz. “Do you mind explaining your remark?”

  “It’s Saturday morning, isn’t it?” Liz said.

  Candace frowned. “Yes.”

  “And did you not rush off in the middle of lunch on Thursday—that would be two days ago Thursday—to have sex with Parker?”

  “Yes,” Candace said slowly, tearing off another piece of croissant. “And your point would be?”

  “Why would you think that Friday night when Parker showed up at the club—the club where you invited her, I might add—that she didn’t come to see you?”

  Bren sipped her coffee and savored her chocolate croissant wordlessly.

  “Because,” Candace replied, “Parker and I already discussed the fact that we weren’t going to see each other again. And,” she went on before Liz could interrupt, “if you’ll recall, when she arrived, she was hanging all over Reilly.”

  “Parker had a few drinks on top of a pain pill and was looped.” Liz grabbed the bag of croissants. “Are there any cheese in here?”

  “Of course,” Candace said haughtily.

  “Besides that,” Liz went on, “Parker is probably a little confused about your rules, considering you were rolling around with her just the day before.”

  “Parker gets it. And since when are you so concerned about my dates?”

  “Since I happen to like this one, Candace.” Liz set her croissant down on a paper towel and leaned with her elbows on the counter. “And I think you do too.”

  Candace looked away.

  “You look all fresh and relaxed this morning, Cand,” Bren said into the silence. “How was the rest of your night?”

  “Fine,” Candace said.

  “Anybody we know?” Bren helped herself to more coffee.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you get her name?” Liz asked.

  “Sophie.” Candace sighed, propped her elbows on the counter, and rested her chin in her hands. “And I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “What? You didn’t leave with her? How did you get home?” Liz exclaimed, her irritation warring with concern. “We would have waited for you if you’d said you weren’t going home with her. That was crazy, Candace.”

  “I did go home with her. I just didn’t sleep with her once I got there.”

  Bren gave a murmur of surprise. “Is that a first?”

  Candace grinned. “I think so.”

  “Why not?” Liz asked.

  Candace shrugged. “She’d been drinking.”

  “And?” Liz persisted, sensing there was more.

  “And I wasn’t really all that horny.”

  “And?” Liz and Bren said together.

  “And I just didn’t feel like it, okay?”

  “Not okay,” Bren said a second before Liz agreed.

  Candace slid off the stool and walked across the kitchen to the open b
ack door. She stood gazing out, the morning sunlight framing her blond hair like a spun-gold halo. Liz thought her face in profile looked as pure and flawless as a Madonna.

  “It all seemed a little pointless,” Candace said quietly. “She might have been able to make me come. I’m damn certain I could have made her come.”

  Liz smiled but said nothing.

  “But when we were all done, the only thing we would have gotten out of it would have been a few seconds of pleasure. And they’re gone almost as soon as they happen.”

  “Not always,” Liz said quietly.

  Candace threw her a crooked smile. “I know.”

  “Why was last night different?” Bren asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Liz considered pointing out that this change in attitude might have something to do with Parker, but Candace had probably ventured as far as she could in that direction for the moment. Candace’s fear of commitment, of any kind of relationship at all, was too deeply ingrained to be overcome so simply. Liz opted for a subtler approach, even though she really wanted to just shake her.

  “Are you two up for another afternoon in the sun?” Liz said. “We can go to the softball game tomorrow.”

  “Is Reilly playing?” Candace said.

  “I don’t know,” Liz replied, although she couldn’t deny she secretly hoped so.

  “I’m in,” Bren said.

  “I suppose,” Candace added.

  “And you,” Liz stabbed a finger in Bren’s direction, “don’t think I’ve forgotten about your mystery date.”

  “What mystery date?” Candace strode back to the island and reclaimed her stool. “What mystery date?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a date—”

  “That’s not what you said last night,” Liz pointed out.

  “How come I don’t know about this?” Candace stared from Liz to Bren, her expression vacillating between outrage and hurt. “How come you two have a secret?”

  Liz rolled her eyes.

  “We don’t have a secret,” Bren said. “I have a secret. Sort of.”

  Now both Liz and Candace regarded her with avid curiosity.