Winds of Fortune (Provincetown Tales Book 5)

by Radclyffe

  “You need a kitchen.”

  “I can live very well on take out.”

  “For food, maybe. What about coffee in the morning?” Deo followed Nita down the wide central hall, admiring the way Nita’s rear filled out her navy slacks. Her cream colored blouse was the perfect complement to her coffee complexion, and Deo thought once again how beautiful she was.

  “By the way, I think you missed something,” Nita said.

  “Impossible.”

  When Nita stopped abruptly and turned, Deo almost bumped into her. They were so close she could smell Nita’s earthy floral perfume. Her stomach tightened in the way it did when she was getting hard, and she shuddered with the unexpected surge of arousal.

  Nita nearly recoiled at the sexual charge pouring from Deo’s body. The force of Deo’s attraction was so tangible she expected to see it materialize, a beast clawing its way to freedom and hunting her down. But rather than run, there was a beast of her own straining to charge back—aching for the frenzy of mating that left only wreckage in its wake.

  “There’s a water mark on the ceiling under the stairs,” Nita said hoarsely, pointing back over Deo’s shoulder. “It’s not on your report. You probably couldn’t see it the other night.”

  Swallowing, forcing down the urge to grab Nita and kiss her the way she’d wanted to kiss her the night before, Deo looked where Nita indicated. Frowning, she pulled her jackknife from her pants pocket and scraped at the plaster in the stairwell. When it flaked away, she pressed her fingertip to the small gouge. It was dry. “An old leak. They probably fixed it but never bothered to repair this. Good pickup.”

  “Thanks. So,” Nita said, backing up a step. “Want to finish the tour?”

  “Sure.” Deo didn’t move. Neither did Nita. What about me, Nita? Want to finish me? Just a kiss, just a touch. I’ve been ready since last night.

  “Assuming your references check out—”

  “They will.”

  “Assuming they do,” Nita said firmly, “when can you start?”

  “It will take a few days to get materials lined up. Sometime next week.”

  “How long before I can move in?”

  Deo shrugged. “Can’t tell until I see what kind of surprises we find. There are always surprises with this kind of job.”

  “Ballpark.”

  “It depends on if you’re willing to rough it or not.”

  “I don’t need pampering.”

  “But do you like it?” Deo asked softly.

  “A condition for you doing this job,” Nita went on steadily, “is that you cease your pointless flirting.”

  “Do you want that in the contract?”

  Nita laughed and shook her head ruefully. “How good is your word?”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  “Then your word will do.”

  Deo shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t oblige.”

  “Why?” Nita asked, half aggravated and half intrigued.

  “You know why.”

  Nita’s pulse pounded as if Deo’s hands skimmed her body. She didn’t bother denying the attraction. They’d both know she was lying.

  “I forgot,” Nita said. “It’s second nature to you.”

  “I don’t mind if you want to pretend that’s all it is.” Deo regarded Nita seriously. “No more exploring this place by yourself, especially once we start working. I’ll meet you at any time and take you through personally.”

  “That won’t be necessary. But I appreciate it.”

  “Consider it part of the service.” Deo grinned.

  “Come on, let’s finish up.” Nita turned away, refusing to allow herself to succumb to the lure of Deo’s attraction. “I’ll call you when I’ve made a decision.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  The words, even though she knew they were empty, sent a ripple of pleasure through Nita’s core. She was so aroused she knew that denying herself release tonight was not going to be possible, and she didn’t know whether to rejoice or repent.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hi,” Allie said breathlessly as she rushed into the waiting room and kissed Bri on the cheek. At nine p.m. on Saturday night, the waiting room was nearly empty. “Sorry I didn’t make it yesterday—hi Caroline—we had a three car pileup on Six last night that took us hours to sort out—how’s the chief?”

  “Pretty good,” Bri said. “He still has that breathing tube in so he can’t say anything, but he blinks when I talk to him so I know he’s okay.”

  Allie dropped into one of the dark green vinyl chairs and let her arms flop over the sides. She’d changed out of her uniform into low-cut jeans and a scooped neck short-sleeved cotton top that came just to her bellybutton, and it felt great not to be working for a few hours. “That’s good. Everybody’s asking for him. Tell him that, okay?”

  “I will. You didn’t need to drive all the way up here, you know. You called yesterday after the surgery.”

  “I know, but…” Allie blushed and glanced at Caroline, who stood with one hip cocked against Bri’s and her arm around Bri’s waist. The possessive stance wasn’t conscious, but Allie got the message just the same. “It feels like we’re more than just people who work together, you know?”

  Bri nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

  Caroline kissed Bri’s cheek and stepped away. “I’m going downstairs to get us something to drink, baby. Allie, you want something?”

  “No. Thanks. I’m not going to stay that long.”

  “Okay. Back in a few.”

  “Got a date?” Bri perched on the wide arm of Allie’s chair and braced an arm against the back.

  “Ha. I wish.” Allie leaned back to look up, her cheek nearly touching Bri’s hand where it rested on the vinyl. “I don’t have anything lined up, and if I did, I think I’d be too tired to do anything about it.”

  “What about Deo?”

  “Oh yeah. Deo.” Allie eyed Bri. “So much has happened this week I forgot you were bent out of shape about her. What gives?”

  “I asked you first.”

  Allie lifted a shoulder and gave Bri a lazy smile. “She’s hot. I mean like touch me and I go off like a bomb hot.”

  Bri rolled her eyes. “I kinda got that from watching her feel you up on the street in front of Spiritus.”

  “She wasn’t and so what if she was?”

  “That’s a low-life move. You’re too good for her.”

  “You don’t even know her, and for your information, she refused to fuck me on the street when I asked her to.” Allie sighed in exasperation. “We’re fucking, Bri. She’s fun to be with, and she makes me come like there’s no tomorrow. End of story.”

  “Deo’s got a rep for never staying around long, so just…be cool, okay?”

  Allie sat forward and rested her hand on Bri’s knee. “Listen, stud, I know what I’m doing, okay? But thanks.”

  “I’m coming back to work on Monday,” Bri said.

  “Yeah?” Allie brightened. “That would be great. Are you sure?”

  “As long as my dad is still doing okay, I want to. I don’t feel right just sitting around here. Especially with how busy all the rest of you are covering for me, and Reese doing double duty with my dad out.”

  Allie squeezed Bri’s hand. “You should be here. Everyone understands.”

  Bri grinned and shook Allie’s hand playfully. “What’s the matter? Don’t you miss me?”

  “Oh yeah,” Allie laughed. “I really miss you bitchin’ about me being late and complaining about who I fuck.”

  From the doorway, Caroline said wryly, “That’s a sign she likes you.” She crossed the room and held out sodas to both Allie and Bri. “I got you one Allie, just in case.”

  “Thanks.” Allie released Bri’s hand and took the bottle. “I haven’t been out of my uniform all week and it’s time to go dancing. I’ll drink this in the car on my way home.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know if I’m coming in for sur
e,” Bri said to Allie as she hooked a finger through the belt loop on Caroline’s jeans.

  “Okay. See you.” Allie waved and hurried out.

  As she took the stairs down to the lobby, she twisted off the top of her soda and pulled down a long swallow. Nice of Caroline to bring it—nice of Caroline to put up with her creaming over Bri, too. Jesus that was embarrassing, especially since she knew Caroline knew, even if half the time Bri was clueless. Girls always knew these things.

  She was tired. Tired of working. Tired of walking on eggshells around Bri, never knowing when she’d look at her and want her in ways she shouldn’t. Tired of wishing the women she slept with were more than bed partners. And so damn tired of wishing Ashley would call her.

  With a mental snarl, she flung herself into the car, keyed the ignition, and tore out of the parking lot. None of that was going to change tonight, and there was nothing wrong with a little company to take her mind off what bothered her.

  *

  Nita was restless. For the first day in a week and a half, she hadn’t worked. Tory had insisted she take the weekend off. Feeling at loose ends all day, she’d been painfully reminded of just how little connection she had established in her new community, and how much she had allowed work to take the place of pleasure in her life. Determined to change that, she’d walked through town to her new house, and the sun and the enthusiasm of the crowds and the breathtaking glimpses of the harbor that teased her through the narrow alleyways between buildings had banished some of her discontent.

  Once at the house, she’d immediately lost herself in the excitement of imagining how it would look when it was restored. Even when she realized she was making mental notes of things she wanted to discuss with Deo, far from being derailed, her anticipation grew. Buoyed by the uncharacteristic surge of happiness, she extracted the estimate from the manila envelope she had left lying on the counter in the kitchen the day before and impulsively dialed the phone number on the report. She got an answering machine, which was what she expected, and left a message accepting the proposal.

  Now, ten hours later, she wondered if she’d made a mistake encouraging a situation where she’d see Deo regularly. Especially, she thought with a whisper of chagrin, after the night before. She had been so keyed up, so physically agitated, she’d finally relented and made herself come. It hadn’t taken much, either time, just a few long firm strokes and a little teasing pressure and the orgasms burst inside her like a rocket flair, brilliant and bright. And as she moaned and twisted, she’d felt Deo’s hot breath against her skin.

  Nita twitched and stared at the book in her lap. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting in her living room, replaying the events of the day. Urgency coiled in her depths and she knew she was wet. She needed a diversion or she was going to have to masturbate, and she feared anything she could do was not going to be enough to satisfy. She had hoped to smother the consuming need she had to take and be taken by denying it, but instead, she’d only stoked the fury.

  “Enough,” she muttered, surging to her feet. She needed to hear voices other than those in her head or she was going to go crazy. She’d walk, even though walking was not what her body craved.

  *

  Deo pushed the whiskey glass back and forth on the bar in a slow half circle, back and forth, back and forth, replaying the message in her mind.

  “Deo, hello. It’s Nita Burgoyne. I’ve decided to accept your proposal. Call me and let me know when you can get started.”

  She’d rewound the tape and played it five or six times in succession, feeling foolish as her belly churned and heated at the sound of Nita’s voice. Mentally, she edited the tape. “Deo, it’s Nita. Call me.”

  “Pathetic,” Deo muttered. She had never mooned over a woman this way, not even when she was a teenager. She’d always had plenty of interest in sex, but there was never anyone she had to have. Never anyone whose voice she hungered to hear on the phone or whose face she desperately sought in the crowd.

  At sixteen, she had just been figuring out that she wanted girls, and only girls. By seventeen, she had kissed more than a few and managed a couple of fast fumbles under the pier, and then her life had blown apart. Literally. And then all she wanted was to forget. Quick couplings in the dark, lots of them, had worked for a while. If it hadn’t been for Pia standing by her, and Pia’s parents giving her a place to live until she could manage on her own, she might not have made it. Eventually, she’d worn the edge off her pain and wounded rage and, by eighteen, had settled into a rhythm of one night stands and friendly but emotionless encounters. When her father, at her mother’s insistence, had offered to help her get started in business, she had wanted to refuse. But Pia had urged her to accept for the sake of their families.

  Hasn’t everyone suffered enough? Pia had said, and Deo swallowed her pride and accepted his help and within two years had paid back every penny. Now they had an uneasy truce. She didn’t spend much time around him, and if he started drinking, she left before his festering anger bubbled to the surface.

  Her life worked, even if now and then she had the uneasy sense there should be more. Then Nita came along and disrupted the pattern she’d gotten used to. At first meeting, she’d responded to Nita with her hormones, just as she always did, and Nita’s automatic dismissal had been a pleasant challenge. But it wasn’t the challenge of conquest that kept her interested. Every time they were together, even for a few minutes, she caught glimpses of the deep passion and pain that Nita struggled to hide. Those emotions she knew something about, and that’s what intrigued her most of all.

  “Hey, hot stuff,” Allie purred, wrapping her arms around Deo’s neck and pressing up against her back. She kissed her ear. “How you doing?”

  Deo shifted on the bar stool and kissed Allie lightly on the mouth. “Not bad. You?”

  “I’m better now.” Allie skimmed her hand down Deo’s back and curled her fingers beneath the waistband of Deo’s jeans. Then she leaned over the bar and waved at the bartender. “Georgia, honey! Please give me a beer before I die.”

  “Rough day?” Deo asked.

  “Rough week.” Allie twisted sideways in the narrow space between Deo’s stool and the occupied one next to it and snuggled her crotch against Deo’s thigh. “We’re shorthanded. Tourist season. The usual. The chief is doing okay, though.”

  “That’s great.” Deo tipped the contents of her glass down her throat and then held out the empty toward the bartender, who slid a sweating bottle of Molson’s across the bar to Allie. “Fill me up.”

  “So,” Allie said after taking a swallow of her beer. “I could really get into fucking for the rest of the night. Interested?”

  Grinning ruefully, Deo wrapped both arms around Allie’s waist and leaned her forehead against Allie’s. No excuses. No lies. Not with her. “I don’t think I’m there tonight, babe.”

  Allie leaned back, her pelvis still pressed to Deo’s leg, and regarded her with a frown. “You okay?”

  “I don’t know.” Deo shrugged. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

  “You know, there’s nothing like a really good fuck to make you forget all the shit in your life.” As she spoke, Allie worked her hand up the inside of Deo’s thigh and cupped her crotch. Unerringly, she pressed her thumb against the base of Deo’s clit and circled slowly. “And you know it will be good.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Deo stiffened all over as her clit went rigid. “It’s already good.”

  Watching Deo’s face, Allie eased up a little. “It’s not really what you want, though, is it?”

  “Allie,” Deo whispered.

  “I know what you look like when it’s what you need.” Allie patted Deo’s crotch and kissed her. Then she removed her hand. “You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Sure.” Allie glanced around the crowded room. “I might still get that fuck tonight, or I might just go home and sleep. Either way, we’re good.”

  Deo drained her whiskey, kissed Allie’
s cheek, and slid off the stool. “Thanks.”

  Almost to the door, Deo saw Nita standing off to one side in the shadows and worked her way over to her.

  “I got your message about the job,” Deo said.

  “Good.”

  “I’ll give you a call Monday afternoon or Tuesday with a work schedule.”

  “Fine.”

  Deo frowned at Nita’s icy tone. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Deo’s head hurt and her crotch ached. Her patience was nonexistent. “Damn it, Nita, if you’re pissed off at someone, don’t take it out on me.”

  “You ought to be in a better mood seeing as your girlfriend just gave you a hand job at the bar,” Nita said acerbically. She couldn’t believe she’d let Deo get into her head the way she had when Deo clearly had nothing more on her mind than a quick fuck.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Deo snapped, “but she isn’t. And she didn’t.”

  Before Nita could reply, Deo turned on her heel and stormed out the door.

  “Good,” Nita muttered to herself. “Go.”

  Then, before her judgment could overrule her instincts, she slammed her beer bottle down on the nearest table and hurried after her. Her anger and self-loathing weren’t Deo’s fault and never had been.

  “Deo!”

  Deo didn’t stop but abruptly cut across a small parking lot to an adjacent street that was little more than an alleyway. Nita caught up to her halfway up the dark narrow passageway and grabbed her shoulder from behind. “Deo.”

  Deo spun around. “What do you want?”

  No street lights. Only moonlight. Deo’s face was all sharp planes and secret shadows. Her voice was harsh and undercut with pain. Nita grasped her muscular upper arms, pushed her back against a shoulder high stone wall, and drove her body against Deo’s.

  “This.” Nita thrust her tongue into Deo’s mouth and was instantly swallowed by the heat. She moaned at her first taste of Deo—whiskey and wanting and danger. Deo’s breasts were a tauntingly soft counterpoint to her hard stomach and thighs. God, Nita could barely breathe she was so hungry for her. She sucked Deo’s tongue and frantically rubbed her crotch into Deo’s.