Focus of Desire

by Kim Baldwin

  “How about…” Climbing off the stool, she stood in front of it, her back to Kash. Let’s see what this pose does. She braced her elbows on the stool, which gave Kash the best possible view of her ass, then peered back over her shoulder at her. “This? What does this do for you?”

  Kash froze. Oh, fuck, yes. Her mind flashed back to their sexual encounter in her suite. “Spread your legs.”

  She wasn’t aware she had spoken the words aloud. She hadn’t meant to, but she knew she had when Isabel complied, smiling that perfectly imperfect come-on smile at her all the while. Oh, fuck. What the hell are you doing? You can’t let this happen again. And they certainly wouldn’t use a pose like this in the magazine. Well, not in Sophisticated Women. One of the men’s magazines would certainly snap it up, not that she would ever consider offering it to one. But you can take a few shots for yourself. No harm there. Click. Click. Click.

  Isabel’s heart was racing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Her body was on fire. She could feel Kash’s eyes on her, and that husky undertone in her voice when she had told her to spread her legs had been like a verbal caress, urging her acquiescence. She was getting wet. I wish you’d put that camera down and come over here and touch me again. I can tell you want to.

  For a minute or two, the only sounds in the room were the steady clicks of Kash’s camera and Isabel’s rather loud breathing.

  With each trigger of her shutter, Kash stepped closer. She couldn’t help it. Isabel’s breathing did it. Each ragged inhalation and exhalation tugged at her, drawing her nearer. Before long Kash was too close for the lens she was using, and she finally lowered her camera and met Isabel’s eyes. They were only a few feet apart.

  Isabel said nothing, but the plea in those deep blue eyes couldn’t have been clearer. Fuck me. Take me. Want me. And Kash did. She couldn’t remember when she’d been this excited.

  That nagging inner voice that had been telling her this wasn’t a good idea faded under the roaring of blood to her brain, and her mind went hazy. She wasn’t used to denying herself what she wanted, and she certainly didn’t want to start now. Possible consequences and complications ceased to matter. All she knew was what her body demanded—to touch Isabel.

  Kash closed the distance between them. She swore she could see Isabel’s pupils dilate in anticipation.

  She skimmed her hand over the soft skin of Isabel’s back as she nestled her pelvis against Isabel’s ass.

  At the exquisite moment of contact, Isabel moaned, closed her eyes, and pushed back against her.

  “Isabel…” Kash spoke gently, but her body reacted instantly to Isabel’s encouragement. She drove her groin into Isabel’s ass and instantly got hard. Her left hand hung loosely at her side, the camera she held all but forgotten, while she wrapped her right hand around Isabel’s waist, ready to pull them tight together. Heart pounding, she started to move against Isabel, and Isabel’s body responded, matching her rhythm thrust for thrust.

  “God, Kash.” Isabel braced herself against the stool. “So good.”

  The muscles of Isabel’s taut stomach tensed beneath Kash’s fingertips, the material of the dress so sheer it was virtually nonexistent. Her hand was inches from Isabel’s breasts, and she knew without being able to see them that the nipples were erect. But before she could confirm her suspicion, which was all she could think about, someone rapped at the studio door.

  “Kash?” It was Massimo. A little early, but not much.

  “Damn,” Kash rasped under her breath as she released Isabel and stepped away. Then, louder, “We’ll be out in a minute!”

  Isabel straightened and faced her, one hand on the stool for support. Her eyes were penetrating, her lower lip swollen and pink where she’d bitten down on it. “Jesus, Kash. How you make me feel—”

  “Isabel…” Kash fought to control the incredible torrent of arousal that made her want to lock the door and throw Isabel down on the couch.

  You can’t do this. You can’t. Pull your shit together and stop letting your clit rule your life. The conscience she rarely heard spoke up and insisted that she couldn’t do this without complications. Serious complications. She didn’t want to examine why it mattered, why she didn’t want to hurt Isabel, because she probably would if they succumbed again to the heat between them.

  Something else in her subconscious tried to tell her that maybe she was trying to protect herself from hurt, too, because Isabel was beginning to make her feel, and she never, ever felt. But she managed to push all of those inner voices aside as she regained her normal breathing. Her hard-on would persist, unfortunately, as long as Isabel kept looking at her that way.

  “This shouldn’t have happened.” Her voice shook and she turned away, grateful for the distraction of having to pack her equipment. “I…I should apologize.” She wasn’t sorry at all.

  “No,” Isabel cut in. Her voice was breathy—she was obviously still on fire. “I wanted you to. I want you to. Please, Kash. Let it happen. Don’t hold back.”

  Kash stood and faced Isabel, but kept her distance. “I won’t pretend I don’t want it, too, Isabel. That dress…the way you’re posing…the way your body feels…I’m so turned on I want to…want to…” I want to kiss you until I can’t breathe. I want to spend the night with you. Do everything with you. Not just fuck you like some anonymous stranger and then leave. But the most I could offer still isn’t nearly enough for a woman like you.

  “But it’s a bad idea.” She took a deep breath. Her clit was still throbbing, and it was hard to maintain eye contact with Isabel and still get through what she had to say. “I mean, we have to work together for the next couple of weeks. I don’t want things to be any more awkward and complicated than they already are.”

  “They won’t be,” Isabel reassured her. “Kash, I know this is only some fun. I don’t expect anything else, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Isabel, I appreciate that.” Kash resumed packing her gear. “But you’re not a casual-sex kind of woman. So it’s better this way. It shouldn’t have happened the first time.”

  “What do you mean, I’m not a casual-sex kind of woman?”

  “Well, Gillian told me that you…that you…” Kash ran her hands nervously through her hair. “That you date women before you sleep with them. That you weren’t at the club to hook up. I know what happened between us wasn’t something you ordinarily do.”

  “Maybe this isn’t my normal routine, to go for a…quickie, or one-night stand, or whatever. That’s true.” She put one leg up on the rung of the stool. “But you do something to me, Kash. I want whatever I can have with you. One more night. One more hour.”

  Kash’s sex twitched. She knew she could make good use of one night with Isabel. You make it hard to refuse. But I have to, or somebody’s going to get hurt. I’m not sure why I know this, but I do. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Isabel.” You have no idea how sorry. “It’s better we don’t have a repeat of the other day. I think we both know that was a mistake.”

  Isabel frowned, making no effort to hide her disappointment. Maybe for you it was a mistake. But you’ll never convince me of that, Kash. I’m very glad it happened.

  *

  Gillian knew immediately that her plan to leave Kash and Isabel alone together hadn’t produced the desired results. Sparks were flying, that was for sure. The sexual tension was so thick it was like an extra person in the room. But they were both being awfully quiet, and neither was happy. By the time they had finished their appetizers, Gillian had decided they needed a bigger push in the right direction. Some sexy music, a dance floor, and a couple of drinks to loosen them up would be a good start.

  “So, Kash,” she said, “know a good club where we can go show off Isabel’s amazing new look?”

  Kash pursed her lips. The prospect of going out with the two of them, of watching Isabel on the dance floor in that dress, both thrilled and frustrated her. She couldn’t refuse—she’d promised Gillian, after all. And even
if it was frustrating, it still sounded better than drinking alone. “Yeah, I have a place in mind.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kash knew of three lesbian clubs in Rome: two large establishments that weren’t much different than the one they’d visited in Paris, and a smaller, more intimate joint where entry was restricted to the chosen few.

  Gillian wanted to try one of the bigger places first, but Kash was mobbed almost immediately, so they opted instead for SoHo, a private club whose interior was fashioned in the style of the hip, trendy lofts that its namesake Manhattan neighborhood was known for. Posters of Broadway shows adorned the brick walls, and other New York touches made them all feel as if they had been transported back to the States.

  Kash was just as quickly recognized, but celebrity and money were routine here, and so the clientele, for the most part, was more respectful and women kept their distance. As in Paris, the manager of SoHo was quick to offer Kash and her party VIP accommodations—a partially curtained-off sitting area in the back, with an L-shaped couch and minimal lighting.

  As the manager led them through the crowd of dancing women, Gillian noticed that Isabel was definitely a hit—women were flirting with her as they passed by almost as much as they were with Kash. And she also noticed that Kash seemed to be much more preoccupied with Isabel than with any of the Italian sirens who were trying to catch her eye. Oh, yes. This is good. This is very good.

  Gillian waited only until they had placed their drink orders before she grabbed Isabel’s hand and pulled her back toward the crowd. “Come on. Time to show off this new you.” She made sure to choose a spot on the dance floor where Kash would have an unobstructed view of Isabel’s backside.

  “You really look phenomenal, Izzy,” she said, initiating the same sexy routine with her friend that they had danced in Paris. She barely got the words out of her mouth before two women joined them. The taller of the dark Mediterranean beauties came at them from the side, putting one arm around Isabel’s shoulder and the other around Gillian’s. The other wrapped her arms around Isabel’s waist and pressed against her from behind.

  The music had a driving beat, erotic and provocative, and all four women surrendered to it, brushing bodies and letting hands wander over thighs and waists, shoulders and arms. Gillian was thoroughly enjoying the experience but kept one eye also on Kash, who watched from the sidelines, her face hidden in shadow. Come on, Kash. You know you want her. Don’t tell me you’re going to sit there and let someone else take her home.

  Kash sipped her vodka and brooded, wishing she had chosen a different pair of trousers that morning. The ones she had on were too tight in the seam when she was this aroused, and too thin as well—she could feel how wet she was every time she moved. The experience wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but it disconcerted her because she couldn’t satisfy her need for release in the way she most wanted to.

  She knew she could likely have any woman here. But it was Isabel she craved, and only Isabel would do.

  Watching her dance was torture. Every time Isabel’s hips rocked against Gillian’s, Kash’s own pelvis rose. And when the two locals joined in and started running their hands over all the smooth skin revealed by that little black dress, she could barely control herself. She was not used to having to watch others claim what she wanted.

  Isabel had been simmering in a state of semiarousal ever since the photo shoot, and she’d had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, so her body welcomed the strangers’ attentions—the heated, teasing caresses and the press of insistent hips. When Gillian paired off with one of the women, she slipped easily into the arms of the other. But she closed her eyes and imagined Kash’s hands were fondling her ass, and Kash’s thigh was insinuating itself between her legs.

  Warm breath glanced over her cheek, then moist lips pressed against the delicate skin of her jaw, traveling downward. She gave in to the soft moans she imagined came from Kash and threw her head back, allowing her companion access to the exposed flesh of her neck and chest.

  The wet kisses increased in intensity as they descended slowly toward her cleavage, and the hands on Isabel’s ass roughly pulled her closer. The thigh between her legs rocked relentlessly against her sex, and the friction sent a shudder of excitement through her.

  She might have come like that, her mind half convinced that Kash was delivering her from her fevered state, except that the music changed and her dance partner spoke, a whispered plea in Italian that, by the tone of it, begged something entirely sexual.

  The spell was broken. She stiffened as she opened her eyes and pulled back from the dark-haired stranger, shocked to find she had come so close to surrendering to someone whose name she didn’t even know.

  “I’m sorry,” she sputtered, embarrassed. She glanced about for Gillian and spotted her near the bar, kissing the other Italian beauty who’d broken up their dance. Then she scouted around for Kash, but the VIP area was empty. She couldn’t have left already. Could she? “Excuse me,” she told the woman, who caught her arm as she began to leave.

  “Non andare. Balliamo un po’di più.” At Isabel’s confused expression, she smiled and added in heavily accented English, “Stay. Dance.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I can’t.” It’s Kash I want. Only Kash.

  It took her only a few minutes to determine that Kash wasn’t there. And her absence was all it took to throw a cold shower on Isabel’s heated hormones.

  Gillian had moved to the VIP area with her Italian squeeze by the time Isabel located her.

  When she spotted Isabel approaching, she extricated herself from the woman’s lap.

  “You’re going already? Where’s Kash?”

  “I think she left,” Isabel said. “You didn’t see her go?”

  “No. Sorry.” Although Gillian had set out to play matchmaker that evening, she had lost track of what was happening between Isabel and Kash as soon as her fiery-hot dancing companion, Ambra, began describing in delicious detail what she wanted to do to her later.

  “I wonder if she went back to the hotel,” Isabel said. Hardly seems she was here long enough to pick up anyone, but I guess it doesn’t take much if you do this all the time. An invitation. An acceptance. And if you’re Kash, you’d want to do it away from here, after all the near misses with cameras in clubs lately.

  The thought that Kash might be screwing someone else right now depressed the hell out of her. “Well, anyway, I’m going back to the room,” she told Gillian. “It’s been a long day. Have fun, and if I don’t see you in the morning before we go, I’ll leave a copy of Kash’s shooting itinerary. We’re starting at the Roman Forum.”

  “Okay, Izzy. Sleep well.”

  Fat chance of that, since I’m apparently doomed to remain preoccupied with a certain sexy and very frustrating photographer.

  *

  As Isabel taxied back to the hotel, the romance of Rome on a warm summer evening, with its bridges and monuments lit with an orange glow, infused her with a renewed determination to follow her instincts.

  Right now, her gut was telling her to go to Kash, even though at the very least she expected Kash to push her away again.

  Quite possibly, Kash might have brought someone from the club back to her suite, and interrupting them didn’t appeal to her. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight until she tried once more. She detoured by her room only long enough to check her hair and makeup. The reflection that stared back at her was still that of a virtual stranger, though a pleasant shock.

  It took her two minutes outside Kash’s door to gather the nerve to knock.

  It took even longer for Kash to answer. When she did, she held a large glass in her hand, half full of vodka. Still dressed in the clothes she’d left the club in, she seemed surprised to find Isabel before her. “What are you doing here?” The what are you came out in a drawled slur, whutter-yu, and Kash was so wobbly on her feet she steadied herself against the door frame with her free hand.

  “Kash? Are you drunk
?”

  Kash stared forlornly at her glass. She had had one drink after another, trying to erase the feel of Isabel’s body against hers, trying to forget the sight of Isabel in someone else’s arms, trying to deny how much she wanted this woman. All unsuccessfully. There wasn’t enough vodka in the world for that. “Maybe.”

  “Are you alone?” Isabel held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  Kash met her eyes and nodded. “Are you?”

  Isabel stepped forward, took the glass out of her hand, and draped Kash’s arm over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” She closed the door and set down the vodka so she could put her arm around Kash’s waist. It was clear that getting her to the bedroom might be a challenge.

  As soon as she hugged Kash close, supporting her weight, Kash sighed and slumped against her. “Izzzabel,” she slurred. “I want to kiss you so damn bad.”

  Isabel started them off toward the bedroom. “Me, too, Kash. Hold that thought until you’re sober, and I’ll definitely take you up on it.”

  “Now,” Kash protested, then stuck out her lip in an inviting pout.

  “Nope. I want you to remember it.”

  “Aw, c’mon. I will,” Kash insisted as Isabel deposited her on the bed. But she was fading fast. Her limbs were limp, and she shut her eyes as soon as her back hit the mattress.

  Isabel managed to get her shoes and belt off and covered her with a blanket. As she reached to click off the light beside the bed, Kash stirred and looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

  “I wanna dance wit’ you next time,” she mumbled, then fell asleep.

  Isabel kissed her lightly on the lips, the briefest of touches. “I surely hope you do, Kash,” she whispered. “With all my heart.”