by Ronica Black
She came, she came, she came, unable to get enough. As if Jude were an illusion and about to dissipate into the nothingness that was her life. She clung to her, with her hands and with her center, until Jude tore herself away, flushed and desperate for air. She stared at Mary for a few moments and then came at her again. The fierceness of her eyes had returned, wolf-like, locked in on her prey. She took Mary’s hand and tugged her from the door. She spun her around and backed her to the desk where she cupped her hips and lifted her, bringing her to rest on piles of papers and files.
“Lie back,” she said, pushing gently on her sternum. Mary eased back, her heart still hammering from the orgasm. Jude shoved upward on her skirt and wrapped her hands around her upper thighs to tug her forward. Then with one last hungry look, she pulled her panties aside and buried her face in her, heavily licking her soaked and overly sensitive flesh.
Panting, Mary held Jude’s head and strained to watch as she was devoured first by Jude’s tongue and then by her whole mouth. When she began to make noise, Jude reached up and plunged her fingers over Mary’s bottom teeth again, easing them in and out as Mary sucked and Jude’s mouth tugged. Files shifted beneath them; papers fell to the floor. Jude kept pushing, as if Mary were wriggling and hard to get hold of. Mary’s legs trembled and her fingers tensed so hard they felt fused to Jude’s head. Something else fell. It sounded like a keyboard. Jude started to hum and moved her head faster from side to side, pausing only for a millisecond to smack her lips away for a long breath. When she came back the last time, she once again shoved her fingers deep inside and pulsed five times hard and quick, sending Mary over instantly.
Mary lifted, her body stiff with pleasure, and she rocked like that, sucking on Jude’s fingers as Jude fucked her and fed from her. Her insides tried to push out, her body tried to cave in around Jude. Her shoes fell from her feet. And still she rocked, suspended, floating through heaven. Longer and longer, so good, so good. And then it was gone, torn from her chest in a ragged, barely audible groan. She fell limp onto the desk and Jude eased up from between her legs. She could’ve lain there and enjoyed the post orgasmic bliss, but there was something else on her mind.
“Jude.”
Mary sat up and watched as Jude began straightening her clothing. Mary stood and hurried to do the same. She adjusted her panties and fixed her blouse and skirt. She hurried to Jude and tried to kiss her. Jude did so only briefly, and Mary tried to touch her face, but Jude caught her wrist.
“What’s wrong?” Mary asked. She searched Jude’s blank but beautiful golden irises. Jude was gone. Already. That quickly. Mary panicked. “Jude?” She lowered her hand and pressed against Jude’s covered flesh. Jude tensed, sucked in a rapid breath, and clenched her jaw. She tried to remove Mary’s hand.
“Please let me touch you,” Mary said. “Please. It’s all I want.”
“I thought you got what you wanted.”
Mary shook her head. “Not all of it.” She stroked Jude up and down, feeling the warmth of her flesh beneath her slacks. “Please.”
Jude stopped her and her lashes fell closed over her eyes. Mary studied her and then removed her hand. When Jude looked up, Mary nearly gasped at the pain she saw swimming around her pupils.
“I cannot,” Jude said sounding defeated and wounded. She backed away and unlocked the door. When she held it open, she looked back at Mary, the meaning clear.
“I don’t want to go,” Mary said, feeling her throat burn with tears. “I want you, Jude.”
“Go, Mary,” she whispered.
“Please.”
Jude avoided her gaze and Mary felt the air take on a sudden chill, as if all their heated passion had simply breezed out the open door. Mary wanted to remain, to slam the door and hold Jude’s face and tell her she would spend eternity getting to know her. That they had all the time in the world and that Mary wanted to please her, touch her, love her. That she would never stop. Never, ever stop.
“You must go,” Jude said, forcing her back to reality.
Mary started to protest, but the phone on the desk rang. Jude released the door and stepped over to answer it. Her back was to Mary as she began speaking to someone in German. Mary stepped into her shoes, made her way to the door, waited, and when Jude didn’t turn to see her off, she left and walked slowly into the fresh night.
Chapter Seven
Jude Jaeger wasn’t the type to let her mind wander. But that was exactly what it was doing. Again and again it went to her past, replaying all the intense feelings she’d had during her previous relationship. Why now? But the answer was also the other subject taking up room in her mind. Mary. The woman was causing all sorts of turmoil in her normally guarded soul and she wasn’t sure what it meant or what to do about it.
“Damn.” She rose to face the window, folding her arms across her chest as she stared through the blinds into the sunny student parking lot. A few young men and women strolled toward their vehicles, heads down, heavy looking backpacks bowing their forms. It was a hot day and only the beginning of fall semester. She should have a million other things on her mind.
But there was only Mary.
“Hey, here’s your green tea Frap.”
Startled, Jude turned and studied her colleague with surprising poise considering she’d half expected it to be Mary, showing up like she had a couple days before, demanding to see her, to touch her, to reach in and stir her soul, while stirring her life into one huge mess. But it wasn’t Mary and she had to get herself together. She offered a smile. “Thank you.”
“No sweat.” Her colleague Fran was a fellow teacher, tall and brunette with almond eyes. She taught French and Jude had known her for years. “You okay?”
Jude glanced down, noticed her own crossed arms, and lowered them. “I’m fine.” She kept the smile and surprised herself and Fran both by inviting Fran to sit. “Please.” She motioned toward one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Hopefully, some friendly conversation would keep her mind off Mary.
Fran settled in and sipped from her tall cup of coffee. She crossed her lean legs and Jude wondered, not for the first time, what she would be like to take in the heat of passion. She wondered the same about most attractive women and she felt safe in doing so. No one knew, and in the carnival of her mind, no one got involved or hurt or cheated on.
Which was how she liked things. Simple, uninvolved, efficient. But her mind wasn’t functioning so simply anymore. Images of Fran quickly bled into images of Mary coming all over her fingers as she fucked her up against the door.
“Jude?” Fran was looking at her, having obviously said something.
“Hmm?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jude forced herself to sit. She sipped her Frappuccino but suddenly didn’t want it. Her stomach felt like it was churning battery acid. “I’m fine,” she said again. But the clock on her wall told her it was ten minutes until the start of Mary’s class. She would be on campus now, possibly lingering. Her gaze drifted to the open door for the umpteenth time that afternoon. But there was no one there, just the quiet hallway.
“I’m used to you being a little reserved, but flat-out ignoring me is something I have to take offense to.” Fran was smiling, teasing. “But seriously, Jude, what’s going on? You look like someone just punched you in the gut.”
Funnily enough, that’s exactly how she felt. Mary had been a sucker punch to her abdomen. The kind Harry Houdini died from. She swallowed hard as she thought about it. Houdini was the master of escape. But even he succumbed to the sucker punch, unable to escape his own cruel destiny. What made her so sure she could escape hers, whatever it may be?
“Jude?”
Because I make my own destiny.
Which was why she had rules. Why she never told anyone at Conquest her name, why she usually never let anyone touch her—
Fran was eyeing her, one brow arched, and Jude had to interrupt her own self-berating.
“I feel a little…”
But there were no words, just more images.
Mary.
Up against the door, on the desk, sucking on her fingers, moaning, standing there with that sweet, sweet desperately hungry look.
“Ill?”
“Yes.” Why had she fucked her in her office? She’d broken a cardinal rule. Never outside the club and never again if they were too clingy.
“Maybe you should go home. Call it a day?”
She refocused on Fran instead of staring at the short stack of files she and Mary had slid to the floor just days before. “I cannot.” Her eyes nearly fluttered closed. She’d said the same to Mary. Just like that. All soft and sad, like she could barely get the words out.
“Well, you need to do something. You look like you’re going to pass out. How many classes do you have left? I could cover for you.”
“I need to check in on Guadalupe’s Spanish class and then I plan on going home.” She didn’t want to check on that particular class, knowing Mary would be there, but she had to do her job. Besides, Mary hadn’t come to find her again so maybe she’d finally taken the hint. But would seeing her bring her running back?
If I’m this bad with thinking about Mary, just how much is Mary thinking of me?
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Fran set down her cup of coffee and folded her hands in her lap. She sat and stared at Jude.
This was why Jude tried not to spend an extended amount of time with her. Fran was a silent sleuth. Long, drawn out moments of silence didn’t bother her, and she’d hold Jude’s stare for several minutes at a time, waiting, searching, analyzing.
It was like being under a fucking microscope. One that could see into her emotions as well as her cells.
Jude had to claw out of it before the heavy beam of Fran’s eyes weighed her down.
Shouldering out of her cream blazer, she tried to change her tone and sound upbeat. “The first week of classes is always difficult.”
Fran replied quickly but didn’t move, her eyes still waiting. “I know. I can’t believe August is here already. I swear it’s the devil’s month. At least it is in Phoenix.”
“Yes.” Jude grabbed a file and pretended to organize her desk. The silence was maddening.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Fran was unwavering.
Jude continued to push around files and class workbooks, her insides burning, reliving what she’d done to Mary on the desk. The images just kept coming, and she was sure Fran could see them, like a short movie on old film, clipped and stuttering, one-second shots of her and Mary in different embraces.
Jude cleared her throat, thanked whatever gods there were in the heavens she wasn’t the type to blush, and then checked the doorway. This time Fran followed her line of sight and looked over her shoulder. The hallway was still empty with only the muffled sound of two others talking a few doors down. When Fran returned to her original position, one in which she was looking dead at Jude, she was slow to do so.
“Expecting someone?”
Jude reached for the Frap with the urge to occupy her mouth. “Hmm? No.”
“Are you sure? Because I can come back later.”
Jude sipped heartily and shook her head. She needed Fran to stop asking questions. The cup tipped as she returned it to her blotter. Standing, she righted the cup and Fran tried to help clean, but Jude shooed her hands away, wiping up the bit of whipped cream and frozen green tea quickly with a napkin she had in her desk.
I should keep the door closed. Closed and locked. Like I did after she left.
“Jude.”
She stilled. Fran had gently clasped her wrist. She appeared concerned, her classically beautiful face washed out with worry, her eyes larger than usual.
“I’m fine,” Jude said automatically. But this time she felt her cheeks heat and her pulse race. Being under the microscope was getting to her regardless of her proud resolve.
“Yeah, I know. You’re fine,” she said carefully, as if she understood and knew it had to be something they couldn’t speak loudly about. “Please get some rest.” She gave Jude’s wrist one last squeeze and turned and left, leaving Jude standing alone behind her desk, cold, soaked napkin in hand. She threw it away and sank into her chair. This wasn’t like her. Wasn’t like her at all. She was always the picture of poise no matter what the situation.
She’d have to apologize to Fran even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to come up with a reasonable excuse. Her own behavior had never upset her before or caused her to worry about explaining herself to others. It was no wonder Fran was concerned. She was behaving like a paranoid imbecile.
With her head in her hands, she forced herself to take several deep breaths. The air straightened her back and helped to clear her mind. Everything was fine and was going to remain fine. She’d just made one mistake, that was all. She grabbed her blazer and shoulder bag. The Spanish class had already started, and she hoped she could just slip in and sit for a while. As she strode toward the class, she kept her eyes focused on her path. She didn’t look for Mary, nor did she anticipate her stepping into view. She just kept everything calm and smooth with her head held high just as she always did. Today was just like any other day and she had to check on this new Spanish teacher.
The back door to the classroom eased open quite noiselessly when she entered, allowing her a stealthy entry. A few students turned and eyed her as she slid into a desk in the last row. The class was going over an assignment, and the instructor was calling on a different student for each answer. Jude plucked out her pen and notebook and began making notes. The instructor had the class under control and he was doing well with explaining each answer. Jude crossed her legs, settling in.
She didn’t see Mary right away and she didn’t allow herself to look for her either. She told herself it didn’t matter and that Mary was just another student. But despite her calm manner, which lasted all of ten minutes, her spine tingled when she heard him call for Mary. And it felt like every hair on her body rose when she heard Mary answer.
Jude scanned the classroom and found her several rows in front of her and toward the right. If Mary looked over her left shoulder, she’d have a clear line of sight to Jude. Thankfully, she didn’t. The instructor praised her for the correct answer and moved on. Jude’s eyes, however, remained fixed on her.
Mary was busy writing something in a notebook. Her hair was down and it seemed to shimmer under the fluorescent lights. It was the color of a desert brook with different shades of brown sparkling under the sun as it flowed. Jude recalled the way it smelled like jasmine and how it mixed with an earthy sweat when she was hot with passion.
Mary scratched her cheek and Jude eyed her fingers and traced down her arm with her gaze. She studied her blouse, which was red and lead down to dark slacks. How many buttons did the blouse have? Could she rip them all open with one lustful tear like she had at Conquest? She’d had to give Mary a T-shirt to wear home that night. She wondered if she still had it, wondered if she slept in it.
Mary tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Jude saw the side of her face and a delicate slice of neck. She knew how it tasted, how it quivered and gave slightly beneath her teeth while Mary cried out in her ear.
Those cries, so fervent and virginal. Like no one on earth had ever touched her or tasted her before. Like Jude was some celestial body coming down from the heavens to ravish her. Mary, open and dripping with hot arousal before Jude even laid a finger on her.
Jude couldn’t make herself look away. Mary was completely captivating. Jude’s body was reacting and she forced her mind from the desire she felt for her to the reasons why. Why did Mary like her so much? Was it because she really was virginal and Jude just happened to be the one to touch her? If so, then Mary was simply confused, caught up in her first experience with a woman. It happened all the time.
Women had liked her before, but usually it had to do with those first time feelings and she’d been able to wa
rd them off quickly. Most had understood it was just for fun and only at the club. But none of them had been as persistent and as persuasive as Mary. And none of them had brought up feelings of the past, forcing her to recall every single spark of lust and every single stab of rejection. But Mary did and Jude shoved away the painful recollection of being used and cast aside by her ex to concentrate on the more beautiful sight before her, deciding to focus on the lust rather than the pain.
Jude watched Mary closely, knowing she was more beautiful than any woman she’d ever been with. She wanted to talk to her, nuzzle her hair and neck. Lick the soft hairs near her ear to make her shudder.
Mary turned a little then as if she weren’t quite sure if someone had whispered her name. Jude held her breath and studied the side of her face. Her cheeks colored as she seemed to wait for the whisper to come again, staring at the side wall. Jude knew then that Mary could feel her stare, feel it like her fingers had just brushed along her jaw.
And then her eyes shifted and she turned some more, melting a gaze right into Jude. Like a shot of strong whiskey, Mary’s eyes burned her insides and Jude wanted to run right for her and slam her with a powerful, all-consuming kiss. Mary seemed to see that in her gaze because her mouth fell open at first with surprise and then it set with that desperate, hungry look, telling Jude, “Yes, come on. I want it.”
Jude stiffened, trying to get control of herself. It was impossible, the whole thing maddening, and Jude knew it. She was only torturing them both. Hurriedly, she rose and left the room, shoving her notes and pen in her shoulder bag as she went. She crossed the lawn and headed toward the parking lot.
She couldn’t do this with Mary, or anyone. It only led to hurt and betrayal, one always wanting more than the other. And she wasn’t about to go through that again.
