by Radclyffe
Chapter Twenty
Late Sunday Night Colorado
Emory turned at the sound of footsteps on the porch behind her and smiled as Dana approached. “How did the interview go?”
“Amazing.” Dana joined Emory at the railing of the wide deck that fronted the ski lodge. At just after nine, the moon was high and partially shrouded in clouds. The only illumination came from the windows behind them and the glow of the huge fire burning in the stone hearth in the common room. Shadows danced across Emory’s face. Despite the near zero temperature, Dana found the crystal-clear mountain air invigorating. She felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. She wondered when she had stopped feeling, when she had replaced emotion with activity. She couldn’t pinpoint just when she had abandoned the idea of a relationship and substituted danger for desire. But she knew the exact moment when all that had changed. It had happened that day in the hotel when Emory heard she was a reporter and her expression had gone from open welcome to closed reserve. Emory’s withdrawal had been like a door slamming shut on her heart, and she’d immediately wanted to wrench it open again. She’d spent every moment since trying. “Besides being a world-renowned artist, Marcea Cassels is an incredible woman.”
“You’ve hit the jackpot in terms of stumbling upon newsworthy people,” Emory commented.
Dana searched her face for signs of criticism, but didn’t find any. She realized then that Emory didn’t consider herself one of those remarkable people. She hesitated, then said, “My editor sent me here with orders to interview you too.”
“I gathered that much from the questions you were asking the other day at the coffee shop.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“Uneasy. Uncomfortable.”
“Then he’ll have to be content with the social events of the next few days,” Dana said, “and the interviews I already have.”
Emory looked surprised. “Just like that? You’ll ditch the story?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
Dana shrugged. “It isn’t. But I care about you, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of something I’ve done.” She leaned closer, her mouth close to Emory’s cheek. “I only want to make you uncomfortable in a good way.”
Emory laughed a little shakily. “You’re succeeding.”
“Glad to hear it.” Dana risked stroking Emory’s cheek. She wasn’t so much concerned that someone would see them as she was at her inability to stop at a simple touch. She’d thought about Emory all day, thought about kissing her, thought about the hot, sultry taste of her mouth and the way her lips slid over hers when they kissed. She imagined how it would feel to hold her breasts in her hands, to squeeze and mold them until Emory whimpered.
Fantasizing about Emory had kept her pleasantly occupied on the slopes when she couldn’t keep up with Emory and Blair. She could ski, but with nothing like their speed and skill. She hadn’t minded. She’d been more interested in watching Emory than the slopes, anyhow. She’d loved how athletically graceful and exuberantly free Emory had been. She wanted to put that look of unfettered joy on her face. Without thinking, she cupped Emory’s cheek.
“Dana,” Emory murmured, leaning into Dana’s hand. “You can interview me, as long as we’re clear that only what I tell you during the course of the interview itself gets into print.”
“Okay,” Dana said, her voice husky.
Emory searched Dana’s face, her eyes questioning. “I thought you’d be more excited.”
“I couldn’t be more excited.” Dana brushed her thumb over the corner of Emory’s mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. I want to kiss you—everywhere.”
Emory caught her breath, a spiral of excitement coursing through her. She gripped the wooden railing with one hand and squeezed tightly, hoping Dana couldn’t tell she was trembling. She’d been standing in the dark, watching the incredible night sky unfold overhead, and trying to imagine a casual physical encounter with Dana. She was far from a blushing virgin, and the idea of being with a woman didn’t seem strange. Diane and Blair weren’t her first lesbian friends and even if they had been, she’d thought of being with a woman before. She just hadn’t met one she wanted, not the way she wanted Dana. The idea of sex with Dana disconcerted her, not because Dana was a woman, but because Emory wanted her so much. She’d never craved another’s touch the way she craved Dana’s, as if the need were more than physical. Nothing ever distracted her, especially when she decided to put something from her mind. But she couldn’t keep Dana from her thoughts. She was aware of her, no matter where she was in a room. Just looking at her gave her a twinge of pleasure. She could even handle a one-night stand, if that’s the way things turned out. What worried her was that one short night might not assuage her hunger. “I don’t know what to do about you.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you?” Emory pulled away, gently breaking their contact. “I want to go to bed with you and I have no idea why.”
“Do you like me?”
Emory laughed. “I do.”
“Good, because I like you too.” Dana glanced through the window behind her to the interior of the lodge. Figures moved beyond the glass, but they were alone on the veranda. She unzipped her ski parka and then did the same to Emory’s. Turning her back to the railing, she leaned against a post and pulled Emory close. Their coats opened to allow their bodies to touch. Emory settled into the vee between her thighs and Dana wrapped her arms around Emory’s waist. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.”
“Then perhaps you should.”
When their mouths met, Emory snugged her pelvis tighter into Dana’s crotch and gripped the waistband of Dana’s jeans with both hands. They fit together as if they had kissed a thousand times.
Dana meant to go slow, but the tease of Emory’s tongue between her lips was like fuel to a fire and desire blazed through her, destroying restraint. She deepened the kiss and skimmed one hand under Emory’s sweater, sliding up to cup her breast. When Emory moaned and pressed into her palm, her mind emptied of thought and her body surged with uncontrollable want. She sucked on Emory’s tongue and found her nipple through the thin silk covering her breast. When she squeezed, Emory shuddered against her.
“God, Dana, I can’t do this here.”
“I’m sorry,” Dana groaned, forcing her hand away from Emory’s breast. “I’m so sorry.”
Emory pressed trembling fingers to Dana’s mouth. “Don’t say that. I think I’m the one who told you to kiss me.”
“You didn’t tell me to start pawing at you,” Dana said, disgusted with herself for not treating Emory more carefully. “I just couldn’t stop.”
“I love knowing you want me.” Emory rested her forehead against Dana’s. She took a slow breath and let it out. “Would you come to my cabin tonight?”
Dana kissed her very carefully. “Are you sure?”
Emory withdrew a key from her pocket and pressed it into Dana’s hand. “I’m very sure.”
“When?” Dana said urgently.
Emory laughed, loving the sound of desire in her voice. “I promised Blair I’d partner with her at cards for a while. After that, I’m all yours.”
“Blair seems relaxed,” Marcea said.
“That’s because she’s winning.” Cam leaned back on the sofa next to her mother, crossing her legs at the ankle. She sipped her wine and enjoyed the sight of Blair laughing, her hair loose, dressed in faded jeans and a navy V-neck sweater that made her eyes seem impossibly blue. At moments like this, Cam was both saddened and joyful. Blair’s rare exuberance reminded her of just how much the burden of being a public figure, and lately, a secret target, weighed on her. If Cam could give her anything, it would be peace of mind. But as that was beyond her ability, she would give her as much freedom to be herself, safe and unafraid, as she could. “She loves competition.”
Marcea softly tapped Cam’s knee. “It seems you’re well matched
in that regard.”
Cam chuckled. “True.”
“Are you looking forward to Saturday?”
“I am.” Cam shifted her gaze from her lover to her mother. “It means something, to say out loud in front of friends and family what you know to be true in your heart.”
“It does. I’m so happy for you, Cameron.” She touched Cam’s hand. “So if you’re not nervous, what is it that’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” Cam said quickly.
“I imagine that doesn’t work with Blair,” Marcea observed easily, “any more than it does with me. I’ve been hearing the things you don’t say for a good many years.”
Cam studied her wine. “Nothing specific, but ever since September…” She shrugged. “I can’t help feeling something else is coming, and not knowing when or how or from where makes me uneasy.”
“This seems like an ideal location,” Marcea observed. “Only one main access road, the individual cabins are not too isolated despite being private, and we’re halfway up a mountain. I would imagine securing your perimeter is easier here than it would be in the city.”
“You learned a lot as an ambassador’s wife.” Cam smiled, but they both knew caution wasn’t enough. It hadn’t saved her father from being killed by a car bomb.
“Yes.” Marcea took Cam’s hand. “You will take care of yourself while you’re taking care of her, won’t you?”
“I will.”
“Good.” Marcea released Cam’s hand and scanned the people gathered in the common room. “Having a reporter this close must be a challenge.”
Cam regarded Dana, who leaned against the fireplace, a beer in her hand, her moody gaze riveted to Emory. “It’s working out better than I expected. Barnett’s a straight shooter, and she seems to have found a way to get Blair to trust her.”
“Blair would value honesty,” Marcea said. “And of course, Dana falling for a good friend probably wins points with Blair too.”
“Is that what’s happening, do you think?”
Marcea laughed. “I don’t claim to be an expert, but even I can read what’s in Dana’s mind right now.”
Cam grunted. “Even with Dana on board we still have to allow the media some access. I held them off when we arrived today, but we have a short press conference scheduled tomorrow.”
“You don’t like it.”
“No.”
“Blair must find it difficult,” Marcea said.
“Having her friends here helps.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting the infamous Tanner and her captain.”
“You’ll like them,” Cam said. “When is Giancarlo arriving?”
“Wednesday. He had business he couldn’t wrap up until then.”
“I rather thought you might be the first one to get married,” Cam said.
“Oh, I’m very fond of him, but marriage is not something I’m quite in the market for. I have my work, as does he, and when we do find time together, it makes the pleasure even more enjoyable.”
“I can understand that.” Cam grinned as Blair whooped and raked in a fistful of cards, obviously having won a big hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of being around her.”
“No, I can’t imagine you will,” Marcea said gently. “That’s the difference between loving someone and being in love with them.”
At that moment, Blair shifted in her seat and glanced in Cam’s direction. She grinned and mouthed I love you.
Cam smiled back, but she was thinking how dark her world had become after losing her father. She couldn’t fathom losing Blair. And she knew, no matter what she had to do, she would never let that happen.
“Can I talk you into the hot tub?” Blair asked, hooking her arm through Cam’s as they navigated the snowy path to their cabin. Unlike the last time they’d stayed at the lodge, before she and Cam had become lovers, they weren’t staying in the main house. Doris, the owner, had insisted they take the honeymoon cabin, the last one in a line of several surrounded by trees with a large private deck and hot tub. Diane had the cabin next to Blair’s, although it was barely visible now with only the moonlight illuminating the mountainside. Emory had another closer to the house, Marcea had one, and another was reserved for Tanner and Adrienne, when they arrived. Other guests and team members had rooms inside the lodge.
“You won’t even have to try hard,” Cam replied.
Blair slowed as they climbed the steps to their cabin. “How are you feeling? Are your ribs hurting?”
“Nothing a few minutes in the hot tub won’t cure.” Cam slipped her fingers beneath Blair’s hair and cupped the back of her neck, stroking her as Blair unlocked the door. “Emory looked like she was a pretty good partner.”
“We killed them.” Blair pulled off her coat as she stepped into the cabin. The décor was rustic ski lodge, with comfortable sofas, chairs, and coffee table in the main room by the fireplace. A small kitchen occupied the rear of the cabin and opened onto the back deck. A door on the left led to a separate bedroom with a king-sized bed and adjoining bath. “Do you want wine?”
“I’ve had enough.” Cam glanced over her shoulder, noting Wozinski on the trail. She knew he would walk a perimeter around the cabin before returning to his post farther up the trail. She closed the door. “Give Greg a minute to finish out back.”
“I’ll grab towels and meet you at the back door, then,” Blair said.
A few minutes later, Blair reappeared in the kitchen wrapped in just a towel. Cam quickly stripped and grabbed the other towel. “I already opened the tub.”
“Good. Race you.” Blair opened the back door and ran outside, Cam close on her heels. The air was sharp, cutting clean, and Blair felt wonderful. Poised on the top step of the hot tub, she turned to take in Cam, breathlessly beautiful beneath the stars. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.” She slid into the steaming water.
Cam joined her, bracing both hands on the rim of the tub on either side of Blair’s shoulders, legs straddling Blair’s hips, trapping her. She inclined her head and kissed her. “Have you now.”
“I have.” Blair gripped Cam’s hips. “I’ve been thinking about how you taste.”
“I’ve been thinking about this too, and my picture was a little different.” Cam eased a hand between their bodies until she cupped the hot, silky mound between Blair’s legs. Blair spread her arms out along the edge of the tub and let her head fall back, her lids heavy, her breath coming slow and deep.
“Mmm,” Blair murmured. “I definitely like your picture.”
“Good.” Cam squeezed rhythmically, her thumb swiping the base of Blair’s clitoris each time she massaged her. She kissed her mouth, her neck, and nipped at the skin beneath her ear. The muscles in Blair’s arms stood out as she clutched the side of the tub, her hips rising and falling below the bubbling water.
“Feel good?” Cam muttered, her teeth raking the column of Blair’s neck.
“Better than.” Blair swirled her hips in invitation. “I want you inside.”
“You’ll come.”
Blair laughed, her throat arched and exposed. “You’re right, I will. I want to.”
Cam licked the mist from the hollow at the base of Blair’s throat and slipped into her. Instantly, Blair closed around her fingers and Cam groaned. She sucked the tight muscle that ran along the pounding pulse, murmuring her approval when Blair covered her hand and pushed her fingers deeper.
“God, Cam, I love you,” Blair whispered. “I’m getting close.”
“I love you.” Cam settled onto the bench and pulled Blair into her lap. Blair’s arms came around her neck and Cam cradled her against her body as she moved slowly inside her. Blair’s clitoris stirred against her palm and Blair made a small broken sound. “You like that, baby?”
Blair pressed her face to Cam’s neck, her hands fitful on Cam’s shoulders. “I’m going to come.”
Cam kissed her eyes, her mouth, and rocked her gently even as she pushed in short, hard thrusts bet
ween her legs. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful.”
Blair arched in Cam’s arms and gave one sharp cry before shuddering uncontrollably for several moments. Cam didn’t move as Blair tightened and pulsed around her.
“Ah, God,” Blair sighed. “I can’t believe I haven’t gotten used to you yet. I can’t last even when I want to.”
“Why try? We can always do it again.”
Lazily, Blair lifted her head and combed her fingers through Cam’s hair. “Let’s go inside. I want you in my mouth.”
“Jesus,” Cam groaned, her stomach tightening. “I think you could talk me into an orgasm right about now.”
Laughing, Blair stood, water cascading from her flushed body. She held out her hand. “Let’s find out.”
From his blind in the forest a hundred yards away, Matheson watched through the night goggles, first as the president’s daughter climaxed with a wild cry of triumph, then as she stood naked in the moonlight a few moments later. Had he not just seen her waste her power and her beauty on another woman, he would have thought her perfect. Although his penis was hard, his mind was clear. She was tainted, defiled. If her death served the cause, she might at last be redeemed.
He hunkered down inside the thermal bag, shifting to make room for the sniper rifle cradled like a lover along his side. It would not be long now.
Chapter Twenty-one
At the sound of soft knocking on her cabin door, Emory took two steps forward, then faltered to a stop. Her hands were shaking. Her entire body was shaking. She’d never done anything remotely like this in her life.
“Emory,” Dana called softly from the other side. “Everything is negotiable.”
Smiling, Emory found her legs and made it to the front door. She pulled it open, a blast of frigid air streaking past her as if determined to put the fire out on the opposite side of the room. Dana stood hunched in the doorway, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her hair windblown.
