by Ronica Black
When she heard Mary calling after her, she quickened her pace and didn’t dare look back.
But her mind kept repeating over and over again as she drove, “Mary.”
Chapter Eight
Mary sat staring at the phone while gnawing on the cuticle of her middle finger.
Call her.
It was a never ending mantra in her mind. Call her call her call her.
“Agh!” She picked up the receiver and pressed the speed dial. The line to Conquest rang and rang. It was ten p.m. and she’d already called three times and hung up before anyone could answer. This time, though, the gruff man from before answered and she had to cover the phone for a moment before she could speak.
“Yeah?” he said. “Hello?”
“Right, hello,” she said, her voice sounding annoying even to her.
“Can I speak with Jude please?”
There was a crunching noise, like maybe he was eating ice. “Jude?”
“Yes, Jude Jaeger.”
“There ain’t no one here by that name.”
Mary was baffled for a second. It had never occurred to her that those that frequented Conquest like Jude might not know her name.
“Uh, she’s the tall blonde—”
“She’s busy.”
“Sorry?”
“She’s busy.”
“Well, can you give her a message?”
“Look, lady. You called here before, huh?”
He didn’t give her time to answer.
“We ain’t a doctor’s office and we ain’t an answering service.”
“Well, how…how does one see her…if they should want to.”
“You come in. If she wants you, you’ll know.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“You’ll know that too. Have a nice night.”
The click turned into an angry dial tone and she pulled the phone away to grimace at it before turning it off. It was as she’d suspected. She would have to go to Conquest herself if she wanted to see Jude.
It didn’t help her nerves any, and she still wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do. She’d been all ready to go to Conquest the other evening, ready and determined to confront Jude and declare her feelings. But after their tryst in Jude’s office, things weren’t so clear anymore. Jude had taken her and it had been beyond her fantasies, but she’d also closed off from her, telling her she couldn’t see her.
She attacked the same poor cuticle again as she stood and paced. Her head kept telling her to call and her heart kept telling her to see her. But the part of her that worried, the part she couldn’t ever seem to pin down to a specific area, that part was cautioning her, telling her not to be the fool.
But a fool was what she already felt like. A stalker was the label she was headed for. How would she feel if some creep kept coming on to her, calling and showing up demanding to be seen? She’d call the cops, no questions asked.
So why was she doing this?
Because I can’t stop.
Great. Maybe she was a stalker. Someone unable to stop her insane behavior.
She stopped and massaged her temples. The confusion lay with Jude. Why did she take her in her office if she didn’t want her? To get rid of her? That wasn’t likely, was it? Did Jude fuck those she wanted to get rid of? The way she fucked, it didn’t seem likely. It would only make people want to stay.
Jude had wanted to take her. She felt it in her touch, saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice.
She’d seen it and felt it earlier today in the classroom too. The way Jude was looking at her, like she wanted to take her right then and there. There was definitely an attraction.
They had fused. But Jude was fighting it.
She groaned and crossed the hall to her bedroom. If only she could stop thinking about her. If only…
She stripped and crawled into bed. After extinguishing the light she moved her hand down to between her legs. That pressure was there, constant and pulsing, forcing her body to pay attention. She could remember feeling something similar in her teens, but she’d never done much about it. She’d been raised to think that touching oneself in an erotic way was bad and even disturbing. Only those with serious issues did such things, and bad things would happen to them because of it. The gist of it had been aimed at boys, but girls took it to heart too. The vagina was no man’s land, and no one had better be touching it, boy or girl.
So she’d left herself virtually unexplored. She’d been with a couple of men and they’d tried to do things to her, but she’d been so turned off by their bodies and actions she’d hardly thought of her own needs. She’d just wanted the situation over with so they’d leave. If having to go through the relentless pawing and throat-clogging tongue kissing was what it meant to make love and have an orgasm, she’d just as soon skip it. And she had.
Until Jude.
She closed her eyes and began to touch herself. Her body relaxed and a deep sigh fell over her as her fingers traced through her light hairs to her calling flesh. She sighed again as she found her cleft and surrounded it with pressing fingertips. Jude’s face came to mind and she gyrated her hand, slowly at first and then with greater pressure and speed. She moaned as she remembered the way Jude had kissed her up against the door, rimming her fingers with her tongue and hungry lips. She remembered the way she’d plunged fingers deep inside, making her come all over her hand. And then finally, she remembered Jude’s hot mouth fastened to her flesh, licking and taking, licking and taking.
Oh, sweet fuck, yes.
She’d never felt so alive, like she was electricity humming through a wire. Never to stop flowing.
Never. Never.
She panted and began to call Jude’s name. Yes. Yes.
She had her now and had her power. It was in her hand and in her mind.
And it was really fucking good.
She cried out and sat halfway up as the orgasm took hold of her. The ceiling ebbed and flowed for a long while as she rocked there in that state. When she finally fell back on the bed, her breathing felt clear and raw like it did after a good run, and she realized she’d just given herself a gift she’d been denying for far too long.
Jude. Where have you been all my life?
Chapter Nine
The woman was writhing beneath her, begging for it, digging her nails into Jude’s back. Jude closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the moment and the woman, but her head wasn’t in it. When she did manage to focus on her, all she did was notice the unpleasant things about her.
Her skin smelled sickly sweet, like she’d put on way too much scented lotion. It reminded Jude of her great-aunt and the way she’d worn way too much lotion the last few years of her life. Jude shook her head to try to get the thought from her mind. She flexed her hips harder and quicker, pumping the woman insanely. She would make her come and be done with her. There was no way she was doing anything else with her. Not this one. Not tonight.
The woman screamed loudly as she came, and the harsh noise from it made Jude’s ear ring.
Crawling from her, Jude looked down at her and tried hard to find the sight hot and satisfying. The woman was on her back, legs splayed, round tits buoying on her chest as she giggled. Her heavy makeup was melting off her face with her sweat. She looked like a macabre Barbie doll and Jude had to look away.
She busied herself removing the condom and the dildo as the woman rose and dressed.
“That was some fuck, baby,” the woman said, sounding like a keyed up schoolgirl, one way too young for her realistic age of forty-five-ish. “You do that kind of thing all the time, or am I just special?”
Jude sat and wiped the dildo with antiseptic wipes. Christ, now the insecurity questions as well? Was I good? Your best? Have you had better? “You are special,” she said with no inflection to her voice. The woman ate it up and even squeaked a little.
“I wish my husband could fuck like that. But he always shoots way too early.”
Jude stopped her.
“Nein. No more.”
The woman closed her mouth and then smiled. “Okay. I don’t blame you, really. I wouldn’t want to hear all—”
Jude rose and slipped the straps off her hips. She’d remained fully clothed, and she was especially glad she had. It took less time to get rid of the woman and assured her cardinal rule of no touching would be followed.
“You can go,” she said, holding the door for her. She was usually a little friendlier, wanting the women to leave on pleasant terms. Pleasure was, after all, what the whole thing was about. But she found that she didn’t care with this woman and she wondered why she’d fucked her at all.
To rid my mind of—
The woman was attractive enough, on a popular society scale, and she’d been more than eager and willing. But Jude had found the whole encounter boring and predictable.
Blonde woman with boobs is flirtatious. Blonde woman with boobs gives herself over easily. Blonde woman with boobs makes high-pitched squeaky noises of pleasure. Blonde woman with boobs says things like, “Yes! Oh, give it to me good, baby doll!” Blonde woman with boobs comes, breaks at least two fake nails on Jude’s back, and then lays there humming.
Now the blonde woman with boobs was giving her a knowing and secretive smile. Her hand skimmed Jude’s cheek and she stood on her toes to kiss her softly on the mouth. When Jude didn’t respond with movement of her own lips, the woman simply backed away and gave her a wink. She walked away without any further comment, slinging a massive purse over her shoulder, their brief encounter obviously not very meaningful for her either. It was what it was. Short. Right to the point. No strings.
Jude closed the door and continued to clean herself up. Perhaps she was being too cynical. She’d never really thought this much about her encounters before. As she wiped her face and neck with a cleansing wipe, she knew the reason for the sudden change. But she wasn’t allowing herself to go there. She would just keep doing what she was doing. Someone was bound to come along and shake up her world a little. Get things back on track.
After adjusting her hair and rinsing her mouth with a bit of vodka, she sprayed on some cologne and remade her bed, replacing the soft blanket the blonde woman with boobs had lain on. And as she thought about it, she knew that two weeks ago she’d have found at least some pleasure in making the woman call her a baby doll. In fact, she probably would’ve loved it, fucking her at least three times just to hear it.
She straightened her back and eyed her reflection. She looked the same. Stoic, almost rigid, with a god-like bone structure and spiked blond hair. But she was paler than usual with dark brushstrokes under her eyes. They were perfectly shaped, like someone had held her head and swept a delicate paintbrush beneath them, leaving a perfectly shaped mark.
Lack of sunlight was probably the cause. She hadn’t been getting out much. Hadn’t felt like taking her evening hikes after work. All she’d been concerned about was work and coming to Conquest. The rest would have to wait until she felt more like herself again. She could only hope it would be soon.
She opened the door and waited, cocking her head to listen to the muted voices. There were groans, moans, laughter, and the snapping of whips or crops or something leather. The hallway was nearly empty, though, with only two bodies tangled into each other toward the end.
Jude braved a step and then walked faster, pissed at herself for being so damn paranoid. She strode to the end of the hall and turned to face the main room. Her heart leapt and fell in a split second. A woman was standing near the door. She was short with brown hair. For a moment, Jude thought it was Mary. And for a moment, she nearly died with fear and excitement.
She was breathing freely with relief when she felt a cold, rough hand on her shoulder. She jerked a little and Cord removed his hand, obviously worried about startling her.
He was quick to report, probably seeing the angry look on her face.
“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He was sweaty like always, as if his job consisted of standing over a grill for hours at a time. She waited for his point.
“Thought you’d want to know that lady called again.”
She refused to blink or to show any sign of recognition.
“She asked to talk to you and said something about coming here to see you.”
When she still didn’t respond, he hurriedly finished.
“I told her, I says look, this ain’t a doctor’s office and I ain’t no answering service.” He laughed a little, amused at himself. His smile fell when he once again met her gaze.
“Well, okay then.”
He left her then and headed back behind the bar. She stood a moment longer, her insides rushing with adrenaline. Mary might come. She had called again.
Fuck.
She clenched her jaw and walked up to the woman by the door.
“Hello,” she said, smelling the virgin on her at once.
“Hi.”
“Would you like to come back with me and get more…comfortable? I promise I won’t bite.”
The woman laughed, full of nerves.
“I’m here to see—” She held up the card.
Jude moved away. The woman was taken and off-limits. Fuming, Jude stalked to the bar and ordered a shot of vodka.
What the hell was she going to do? Sit and twiddle her thumbs all night while she worried and waited for a previous fuck to show? That wasn’t like her and the whole point of tonight and the few nights previous were to keep her mind off—
She refused to think of her name.
Why couldn’t she just move the fuck on and not worry about it? So what if she showed up? She’d tell her to fuck off and continue to move on.
The shot glass felt cool in her hand and she downed the liquid quickly with a snap of her head. It burned so lovely she considered another.
Behind her, the main door opened and the men on the barstools next to her did their general turn and stare. She didn’t bother.
Cord took her glass and stared at her. She played it off at first, but when his eyes kept shifting to the door, she forced down the sudden lump in her throat and turned.
Another brunette, the same height as the other had entered. She was standing right next to her, face hidden in the shadows. Jude’s heart leapt again and beat insanely within her chest.
It was just a trick. It wasn’t her. Just another woman who resembled her. Calm down.
But the woman stepped forward and spoke, sending Jude’s heart and stomach into a spinning deadfall.
“Hello, Jude.”
It took a moment for Jude to react. When she did it was quick and sharp and she grabbed Mary by the hand to lead her away from the others. Mary stumbled along willingly, talking the entire time.
“I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think you would see me. Thank—”
Jude reached her door and turned, covering her mouth quite forcefully.
“Do not say my name!” She lowered her hand as it started to tremble with her anger. She jerked Mary into the room and slammed the door. Mary stood looking shocked, and she shook her head and tried to explain.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Enough!” Jude ran her hands through her hair and slapped them on her thighs in frustration. She wanted to scream at her. How dare she come here when she’d been told not to. How dare she insist on seeing her, acting like a harmless little schoolgirl who doesn’t know any better. How dare she use her name in front of the others!
“I am so angry,” Jude said. “So, so angry. You have no idea, do you?”
“I—”
“I’ve heard enough from you, Mary. Mary with your pretend innocence and insistent little attitude.”
Mary stared at her for a long moment. “Why are you so angry?”
Jude wanted to laugh but she was too shocked to do so. “Why? Why do you think? Because you keep showing up.” Jude groaned in frustration as her plan to tell Mary to fuck off floated away. Nothing, it seemed, was simple when it came to Mary.
Mary�
�s face reddened, and for a second Jude thought it would crack and she would cry. But instead it contorted into obvious anger.
“You think I want to bother you? Like this is some game and I’m—I’m getting off on it?”
“Are you not?”
“No!”
“Then why?”
Mary grew still and stared at her again. The anger slowly fell from her face and her body went slack. She seemed to have trouble breathing and Jude again feared she would cry. A twinge of guilt tried to make itself known, but she wouldn’t have it. A twinge of surprise and panic came as Mary moved toward the door.
“What are you doing?” Jude asked, more confused than ever.
Mary didn’t answer, just reached for the doorknob.
Jude pressed her own hand to the door, holding it closed.
“I’m trying to leave,” Mary said, avoiding her gaze. Her voice was a whisper of defeat.
Jude inhaled deeply, the statement causing her body to continue to react. Her heart raced and she felt what she could only guess was disappointment and the fear of loss rushing through her. She pressed harder on the door.
“No.”
Mary finally looked at her. Her eyes were liquid with tears.
“Don’t do this,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Just let me go.”
“I cannot,” Jude said, her own throat tightening. She cringed at her own words.
“You told me you don’t want me to come to you. I get it now.”
Jude struggled for words. “Why did you not get it before?”
“Because a part of me wanted to believe you wanted me. Despite what you said.”
Jude fought for control within herself. Mary knew. She had felt it. She knew Jude wanted her.
Let her go. Let her go and this can all be over.
But her hand remained pressed against the door and her heart continued to thud madly and hotly within her chest. She inhaled again, struggling for the strength to ease away from the door.
“Jude,” Mary said. “Let me go. Please, before I break down.” Her breath shook with tears. She held out Jude’s T-shirt, having had it tucked under her arm.
