by Radclyffe
Tory rubbed her cheek over the soft delta between Reese’s legs and pressed a kiss to her center. Then she rose and wrapped her arms around Reese’s neck. “Don’t be afraid.”
“When…when I touch you I feel like I’m running, running for my life and you’re all that can save me.”
“You’re not lost, darling.” Tory guided Reese’s hand to her breast. “And I’m right here.”
Shaking, Reese kissed her tenderly, with infinite care, and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She reached one hand behind and released Tory’s bra as Tory skimmed off her jeans and panties. With her mouth against Tory’s neck, Reese circled her waist and pushed her toward the bed. Tory went down on her back and Reese followed, her thigh between Tory’s legs. Her voice was hoarse and tight. “Here with you like this, I know who I am.”
“Then be with me. You can’t hurt me.” Tory shifted until Reese was between her legs and then hooked her calves over Reese’s thighs. She kissed her, drawing Reese’s tongue into her mouth, and rocked her hips in invitation.
Reese gave herself to the heat of Tory’s mouth and the call of her body. When she felt her control slip and the choking need that verged on desperation surging through her, she tried to pull away, but Tory only held her more fiercely.
“Don’t go,” Tory whispered, cradling the back of Reese’s head in one hand and grasping Reese’s wrist with the other. She pushed Reese’s hand between them, down over her belly. “Be with me. Be in me. I need you.”
“I love you,” Reese gasped, sliding into her, submerging herself in the solace only Tory could provide. “Tory. Tory.”
“Always…” Tory arched to take her deeper. “Always right here.”
Reese pushed Tory to the edge, thrust after thrust, until she was about to crest, and then grew still inside her. When Tory cried out, imploring her not to stop, Reese whispered, “I will never leave you.”
While Tory trembled on the brink, Reese slid down the bed and took her into her mouth. As Tory came, she grasped Reese’s free hand and their fingers entwined.
Tory held her inside as long as she could, and continued to hold her hand after Reese slipped from her and lay panting with her cheek pillowed against Tory’s stomach. Tory traced the wedding band on Reese’s finger while she stroked Reese’s face, thinking about her promise to love and cherish.
“I wish I could give you everything you need,” Tory whispered.
“You give me more.” Reese moved up the bed to take Tory into her arms. She cradled Tory’s head against her shoulder and kissed her. “You give me things I never knew I needed. More than I ever dreamed of having.”
“Sometimes I feel selfish.”
“No.” Reese sighed. “You aren’t. You never have been. It’s me.”
Tory raised her head. “You know what? Our life has been upside down since April, and this week has been really hard.” She kissed Reese firmly. “I’ll give myself a break if you’ll do the same.”
Reese laughed. “Is this like a timeout for grown-ups?”
“Something like that.” Tory ran her fingers through Reese’s hair, then curled up against her again. “We’re together, and we always will be, no matter where either of us may be. For now, that’s all that matters.”
“That’s everything.” Reese pulled the covers over them and held her tightly. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby.”
Holding to that promise, Tory fell asleep to the sound of Reese’s heartbeat.
Chapter Thirteen
“Oh man,” Bri moaned, curling onto her side as she reached down to caress Carre’s face with trembling fingers. Her head still buzzed from waking up in the middle of an orgasm. “Babe, what are you doing?”
“Making you feel good.”
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Because I woke up and I thought about us being at the hospital all week and that we’ll probably be there most of the weekend, and I wanted to take care of you.” Caroline rubbed her cheek against Bri’s belly. “You wouldn’t let me last night, remember?”
Bri combed her fingers through Carre’s hair. “I didn’t think I could come. I’ve been so twisted up all week, I wasn’t even horny.”
“You didn’t think you were.” Caroline scooted up on the bed and pulled Bri’s head against her breasts. “But baby, you’re always horny. Besides, it’s good for you. It always relaxes you.”
“Is that what you call it?” Bri closed her eyes briefly and pretended that it was just the two of them together with nowhere to go and nothing to fear. But she could only hold on to the dream for a few seconds. “What time is it?”
“Four thirty, about. It’s still dark outside.” Caroline rubbed Bri’s shoulders. “We should leave in about an hour. You go ahead and sleep some more. I’ll wake you up.”
“Don’t know if I can.”
“You okay?”
Wordlessly, Bri nodded, tightening her grip on Carre. She’d been in scary situations a few times at work—the fire, the shootout in the dunes, the drug bust that went bad. She’d been scared, sure, but even that night when she’d been dragged into the brush and beaten, she hadn’t felt this powerless. She’d always fought back. “I think something bad might happen, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Remember what your dad said last night. That he wasn’t going to worry about you because he knew you were strong.”
“Yeah,” Bri mumbled.
“Being strong doesn’t mean you can’t be scared.” Caroline tilted Bri’s face up and kissed her eyes, then her cheeks, then her mouth. “And you don’t have to be strong all the time, baby.”
“Oh fuck,” Bri blurted as the tears came and she couldn’t stop them. Carre rocked her and made soft little sounds of comfort, and Bri clung to her like she couldn’t ever remember holding on to anyone before. Maybe she had, when she was little—before her mother died, before the house grew silent and her father so sad—but she couldn’t remember. Then she was a teenager and she was fighting everyone because she was different, and everywhere she turned someone said she couldn’t be who she was, and she had to be strong because Carre risked so much in loving her. And now—now she was grown, and she wanted to be strong like Reese was strong—strong and brave no matter what happened. But she didn’t feel strong.
“I don’t know…” Bri gulped and willed herself to stop crying. “I don’t know how I’d make it if I didn’t have you.”
“Oh baby,” Caroline murmured, stroking Bri’s hot, damp face. “Don’t you know by now I need you to need me? Just like I need you.” She kissed her forehead. “You are such a blockhead sometimes.”
“I’m trying so hard, but I’m never going to be like Reese.” When Carre drew back, there was enough morning light filtering through the skylight in their second floor apartment that Bri could make out the frown on her face. “What?”
“Do you think Reese is strong all the time?” Caroline shook her head. “Don’t you get that part of the reason Reese seems so strong is because she has Tory? Jeez, all you have to do is watch them.”
Bri remembered waking up in the ICU waiting room and seeing Tory holding Reese. Comforting her, pretty much like Carre was doing now. Thinking that Reese wouldn’t want anyone to see her so vulnerable, she had looked away. She hadn’t wanted to embarrass Reese, but maybe she had been wrong in thinking that she would. She wasn’t ashamed to have Carre hold her. She just felt lucky.
“How come you know these things and I don’t?” Bri complained, rubbing her face against the inside of her arm to wipe away the last of her tears.
Caroline laughed. “Because we’re made differently and different things are important to us.”
Bri frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“I know, baby,” Caroline said gently. “It doesn’t matter as long as you know that I don’t always need you to be strong and I need to feel strong for you too sometimes.”
“If anything happens to my dad I don’t want anybody around except you.” Bri took Ca
rre’s hand. The tears were close again. “Okay?”
“Reese and Tory love you, baby.” Caroline kissed Bri until Bri relaxed into her arms. “I’ll be right there, I promise. But you can’t shut them out.”
“Thank you for…you know. Being with me.”
“You’re gonna make me mad if you say that again.” Caroline pulled Bri on top of her and held her tightly. “There’s only one thing I want you to say to me. You know what it is.”
Bri rested her forehead against Carre’s and whispered, “I love you so so much.”
*
“You made it,” Nita exclaimed as Tory hurried into the office at just after three in the afternoon. “You’d better sit down. You look exhausted.”
“I only slept a few hours last night, but I actually felt rested when I woke up this morning.” Tory dropped onto the sofa with a grateful sigh. “It’s just been a tense day.”
Nita frowned. “Problems with Nelson’s surgery?”
“He came through the procedure with no major problems, but the surgeon said he saw a little more bleeding post-op than he’d like. They’re just watching him for now.”
“Maybe you should head back, then.”
Tory shook her head. “There are some things I have to do here. Reese will be there in an hour or so. We’ve got it covered.” She pointed a finger at Nita. “Besides, you have a closing to go to. So—go.”
“You’re sure.”
“Positive. Call me later.”
Nita shrugged off her lab coat, hung it on a coat tree inside the door, and grabbed the soft brown leather shoulder bag that doubled as her briefcase. Murmuring her thanks, she hurried out.
The few moments it took to drive into town were the first free minutes she’d had all day. Unfortunately, the first thing she thought of was Deo. There was no reason to think that Deo would be at the closing, for which she was glad. A day or two without seeing her would put everything into perspective. She was only temporarily off-balance because she hadn’t expected to meet anyone who stirred her up the way Deo had. Nothing to worry about.
So, she’d met an attractive charming sexy woman who had turned her on. So what? So what if she’d tossed and turned for an hour the night before, too keyed up to sleep, unable to purge the memory of Deo’s warm breath against her stomach from her mind. So what if she’d awakened for the first time in months with a hum of arousal singing through her blood. All perfectly normal, perfectly natural. No crime in acknowledging involuntary responses she had no plans to do anything about.
Case closed.
*
“How does it feel to be a homeowner?” Elana Torres asked, handing Nita the keys with a warm smile.
“Wonderful,” Nita replied automatically, and on one level, she was thrilled. The house had charmed her from the beginning with its history and faded grandeur, and she looked forward to restoring it. The project would occupy her free time, what little of it there was, and in the end, she would have something exceptional of her own to show for it. But undercutting the excitement was a thread of sadness that she was doing this alone. Her first home, a significant dream realized, and she had no one special with whom to share the pleasure.
Elana handed Nita a thick manila envelope. “Deo asked me to give this to you. She said to tell you the renovation estimates just cover the major structural elements. The finishing details take more planning, depending on what you have in mind.”
“I, uh…” Nita stared at the envelope but didn’t take it. She had the irrational thought that if she touched it she might feel the rough brush of Deo’s callused palm over her body and give herself away with some small movement or sound.
“Deo’s family, as you know, but I can also recommend her without reservation,” Elana added. “Still, I put contact information for one of the other local contractors and a company from Barnstable in with your settlement papers in case you want to get competitive bids.”
“Yes. I suppose that would be a good idea.”
“Call soon. At this time of the year, everyone is booked solid. I’ll do what I can to help set up the appraisals, if you like.”
Of course, Nita thought, summertime is the height of the building season. But Deo had taken the time to write up the estimate. She wondered when. “Deo put this together awfully quickly.”
“She was in here crunching numbers when I arrived at six this morning.” Elana smiled. “She’s never been one to let grass grow under her feet.”
Nita stifled a comment about fast workers and accepted the envelope. It could take weeks to even schedule an appraisal with someone else, and longer still to get the renovations started. And somehow, she didn’t think that Deo’s comment about being one of the best in the business was an idle boast. Her own sublet was proof of that. Annoyed that she was allowing a transient situation with Deo to compromise what should be a professional undertaking, she asked, “Do you have local references I can check? She’s already seen the house, and—”
“Deo always includes references at the end of her estimates. If you need any other information, just call me. Most of the businesses in town use her, and there’s never been a single complaint.”
Blushing, Nita said hastily, “Really, I’m sure she’s excellent. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
“Don’t think anything of it,” Elana said. “It’s an important decision, and I’m sure you want to have the right person do the work.”
“Yes. I do. Well,” Nita bounced the keys in her palm. “I think I’ll pay my new house a visit.”
“Welcome to town.” Elana extended her hand. “Call me if you need anything. Remember, you’re one of us now.”
*
One of us. Nita leaned against the balustrade on the widow’s walk and surveyed the harbor from atop her new home. With still two hours until sunset, the evening had taken on a golden blush, and the white sailboats and yachts floated like pristine clouds atop the deep blue surface of the water. So high above the street, the breeze was cool and brisk, raising goose bumps on her sun-heated skin. One of us.
She could still hear her brother’s angry words. “How could you, Nita? He’s one of us. You don’t fuck with one of us.”
She hadn’t needed her brother’s fury or her father’s cold disdain or her sister’s shocked criticism to understand that the thin blue line was unassailable. She’d known it all her life. Every member of her family took pride in it, and she had broken the line. Ignored the code, disrespected the fraternity, sullied the family honor. She was no longer one of them, cast out for her transgressions.
“All for what,” she murmured for the thousandth time, but she knew the answer. Sylvia. Beautiful passionate, possessive Sylvia. Sylvia, with her hot demanding hands and her sweet seductive mouth. Sylvia. God, she could still taste her.
“Hey!” Deo yelled up from the street. “Don’t lean on that!”
Shaking her head, feeling as if she were awakening from a dream, Nita stared down the three and a half stories to the sidewalk. Deo stood with her legs apart and pelvis tilted forward, hands on hips, glaring up at her. Despite the height, Nita could make out streaks of dust on her neck and the sweat that sheened on her bare arms. In an instant, memories of Sylvia disappeared and Nita was grateful.
Recognizing the gratitude for what it was, the mindless substitution of one desire for another, she defiantly grasped the iron railing and shook it. Despite the protesting creak she heard as she rocked it, she shouted back, “It’s perfectly fine.”
“Cut it out! Jesus, Nita.” Deo shoved open the scrolled iron gate that separated Nita’s small front yard from the narrow brick sidewalk and stalked toward the house.
Nita lost sight of her, but she didn’t have any trouble hearing her.
“Let me in,” Deo barked.
For one second, Nita considered ignoring her. Then, embarrassed by her reluctance to confront a woman just because she was attracted to her, she abandoned her perch above the town and unhurriedly made her way downstairs. When she o
pened the door, she felt completely calm.
“Yes?” Nita said.
“Jesus Christ, Nita,” Deo repeated heatedly. “Do you want to kill yourself? You’ve got to be careful around this place until we’ve gone through it completely.”
“There is no we,” Nita responded levelly. “And I was careful.”
“Leaning over that railing is not careful! If you had fallen…” Deo tried to rein in her temper, but she was still running on nerves after glancing up to see Nita precariously positioned on the widow’s walk, a look on her face that said she was a million miles away and not paying any attention to what she was doing. Deo envisioned the bolts pulling loose from the water-softened wood, the railing crumbling, and Nita falling. Falling and lying crumpled on the grass, her eyes open and empty. She shivered. “Fuck.”
“I appreciate your concern.” Recognizing Deo’s anxiety—surprised and oddly touched—Nita asked more gently, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m working a job not far from here, and I figured you might stop by here after the closing.” Deo shrugged. “I thought we could get a look at the place while it was still light and talk about the work schedule.”
Nita tried to suppress a smile and almost succeeded. “I don’t remember accepting your proposal.”
Catching the smile, Deo leaned against the door frame, her fear and anger giving way to pleasure at the slight chink in Nita’s formidable armor. “Did you look at it?”
“Yes.” In fact, it was the first thing she had done when she arrived at the house. She’d walked through the dusty, barren rooms studying Deo’s notes, imagining the ornate ceilings restored, the woodwork and floors sanded and refinished, the wainscoting and scrolled chair rails replaced. “I still need to call your references.”
“Don’t trust me?” Deo teased.
“Not a whit.”
“Going to let me in?”
No, Nita’s common sense screamed. No. No no no. Reminding herself it was a simple business transaction, she stepped back. “I can’t live here without plumbing and electricity.”
