Lightning Strikes

by Cass Sellars

  Syd appeared amused by Parker’s stuttered apology which she waved away. Parker could swear she felt eyes at her back when she walked quickly to the bathroom line, any excuse to break from the uncomfortable interaction.

  Parker glanced back toward the bar and noticed Syd still looking in her direction. Parker broke eye contact when she felt the heat rise in her cheeks, turning hastily to watch the small hallway.

  “Perfect” by Doria Roberts descended over the crowd, encouraging close dancing. Parker noticed an abrupt change in tempo and thought the DJ must have also sensed the uncomfortable rise in ambient temperature. He announced, “Now for a good opportunity to get reacquainted with your man or woman.”

  Jen jumped to her feet dragging Mack to the floor once again. As Parker stood at the back of the line, she absentmindedly stared at the couples swaying to the music. For the first time in a while, she did not feel nostalgic.

  The fingers of her left hand grazed over rough denim and she jerked forward, suddenly afraid she had drifted into a dancing couple. Parker turned and looked up into Syd’s eyes. Syd leaned down and hot breath from her words fluttered around Parker’s ear.

  “Why don’t you dance with me?” Syd suggested as she led Parker by the hand to the center of the floor, not waiting for an official answer.

  As she allowed herself to be pulled into the dance, Parker hoped Syd hadn’t felt her shiver. She knew she’d seen the blush rise into her cheeks because they still burned.

  Syd rested their now entwined fingers against her broad chest while her other hand glided across Parker’s lower back. The music, still slow, pulled Parker into the rhythm. The inner dialogue lobbing inside Parker’s head waffled between What the hell is happening? and Run very fast.

  She looked up and found Syd staring down at her with an amused grin. Parker was not even ready to touch another person, let alone get caught up in a slow dance. She was still a bit light-headed, idly wondering how long they had been dancing. Parker swayed into the movement as her forehead was gently guided against her partner’s jaw. Parker’s breath caught in her throat again and goose bumps formed down her arms. She could smell Syd’s heady cologne and soap and scotch. What is it with me and scotch women? she asked herself wryly. Syd offered her a puzzled look as Parker suddenly pulled back, owing to an uncomfortable wave of panic. She backed away and found the dark eyes staring at her again. Pulling back farther, she watched a question form in those eyes.

  Syd leaned into Parker’s ear. “It’s okay to dance, sweetheart.” She chuckled good-naturedly perceiving Parker’s confusion. “I promise I won’t ask you to marry me.”

  Parker stepped away quickly and headed to rejoin the line for the bathroom which was now just her. Apparently her friends hadn’t noticed the exchange with Syd, and she looked intently at the floor between the toes of her shoes, silently praying for someone to leave a stall. Syd walked up behind her and placed strong hands on Parker’s small hips causing her to shiver at the sensation.

  “Hey, I hope you’re all right. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Her damn voice was deep and husky and smooth and her lips were really close to Parker’s neck. Stop, Parker told herself.

  “You didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m just not ready,” she replied, scolding herself for sounding like a timid teenager and conveying much more than she had intended. The mere thought, even in jest, of marriage or anything requiring any such bout of blind trust felt like doors closing in a windowless room.

  Syd raised both hands in mock surrender as she moved around to stand in front of Parker. Leaning down, she strained to be heard in the loud bar. She lightly placed a finger under Parker’s chin so she would look up, “Maybe next time, okay?”

  “Yeah.” Parker nodded, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time.

  Finally, a couple slunk out of the bathroom and Parker rushed in. She shut the door quickly, then leaned against it and hugged her arms tightly across her stomach in an attempt to quiet the butterflies doing a mad dance there. Taking a deep breath, she dabbed cold water on her clammy skin.

  Get a grip, Duncan. She scolded herself for acting like a child. She imagined Syd must have thought that she was crazy.

  Parker walked back to her table to rejoin her friends, intentionally avoiding the impulse to search the room for the very alluring Syd. She found the group talking quietly, their energy flagging.

  Parker hoped they attributed her flushed complexion to the heat of all the gyrating bodies. Mack tilted her head and looked in Parker’s direction, sending her a quizzical look.

  “You okay?” Jen mouthed across the table.

  Parker nodded and waved away the question. The bar was now almost unbearably packed. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she secretly wished she had opted for a looser pair of jeans instead of the tight ones now sticking to her thighs.

  “I think it’s time.” Parker suggested that her worn out party-throwers give up and take her home.

  “You sure you’re ready to go?” Allen asked.

  “More than ready. I promise.” Parker stood as the group collected themselves and headed for the door. Parker refused to look back into the bar where she wondered if someone was watching her go.

  *

  Syd smiled cockily as she strolled across the floor in amused surrender. She did not need to beg for chicks to dance with her—hell, she barely had to ask. Regardless, she had placed her hands lightly on the stranger’s hips in the bathroom line, as much to stanch the obvious flight risk as, if she was being honest, to feel her again. Now as she turned back toward the bar, Syd felt soft hands glide around her waist. Bright fuchsia-tipped fingers looped behind her belt buckle possessively as she smelled vanilla and vodka.

  “Dance, baby?” the pretty blonde cooed in Syd’s ear.

  “After you, gorgeous,” Syd replied to the seductive woman who always seemed to have her focus on Sydney. She noted that the evening had taken a positive turn, even if it was the omnipresent Becky Weaver.

  Syd inhaled Becky’s scent as she willingly swayed, pressing her hips not-so-subtly into Syd’s groin. They had done this dance before. Sydney would follow Becky to her car or, on two occasions, her apartment where she satisfied Becky’s obvious longing for Syd’s companionship.

  Syd played the game for hours while the blonde clung to her side. Becky was forward, aggressive, and entirely too willing, but Syd gave in when her hands scratched down her neck. Syd felt Becky’s tongue drag between her lips and over her own. Becky ground into Sydney’s thigh and pressed her full breasts against her chest.

  “Check, please,” Syd joked.

  Becky practically fell over with her legs open when Syd suggested they go to her place for a nightcap. Syd was inexplicably disappointed when her scan of the brunette’s table revealed a new group and no sign of the blue eyes that had momentarily captured her attention. She forced herself to refocus on the foregone conclusion hanging on her arm.

  *

  Parker was quiet as Richard took the wheel as promised for the sober drive home. At just past midnight, Meridian Street was dark and quiet. She assured them that she was happy to slum it in the dirty loft instead of their guest room and dragged her suitcase over the walk to the building. Richard let the Jetta idle until Parker reached her unit and she waved them away.

  She immediately climbed the stairs to the bathroom, hanging her stale-smelling clothes over the only towel rack. She brushed her teeth, careful not to actually touch the ancient rusty sink. Parker stood looking over the loft railing and admired the star-filled sky visible from her perch. She found herself replaying the encounter at the bar and shook her head, as if to dislodge the thoughts of the striking specimen who had made her behave like a scared adolescent.

  She chided herself for entertaining the brief fantasy and padded down to add a bit more air to her inflatable mattress. Donning an oversized T-shirt, Parker made the best of her makeshift bed and crawled under the sleeping bag. At some point in the night, she heard someo
ne issue a warning shhh at a giggle from another, as the door across the hall scraped open and then shut again.

  Parker shifted in an attempt to get comfortable and briefly contemplated the moxie of inflatable bed companies who charged a fairly exorbitant amount for their product, yet never seemed to improve on quality or comfort. In the end, people paid hundreds of dollars for a glorified pool float. She fell fitfully asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Against her normally sound judgment, Syd let her enthusiastic blond dance partner follow her home. Hours of suggestive dancing morphed into X-rated gyrations courtesy of the overzealous Becky determined to spend some alone time with the target of her longtime affection. Becky’s pink Jeep Wrangler with its glittery license plate frame followed close behind Syd’s car. The sight of the sparkling vehicle made Syd roll her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sometimes you can take femme a little too far,” she mused and shook her head at the Barbie car following her.

  Syd considered that she rarely—okay, never—let her casual flings come home with her. If they ever spent more time together than the hour it took for her to drive them into several shattering moments of erotic bliss, Syd would always offer to go home with them as she had before with Becky. Easy escape, under her own power and in her own time; attachments were unnecessary complications in Syd’s world. Her work kept her busy and satisfied enough. A little physical release when she needed it was plenty for Sydney Hyatt.

  Having the power to dominate a woman sexually was always her goal. To bring her conquest to the place where she begged for release and gave Syd the power to create the moment, to time it, to control it, to drive a woman to her end was the most exhilarating experience for Syd. She didn’t need more than that to sate her libido and her ego.

  But for some reason she was letting Becky come to her home tonight, an uncharacteristic move to say the least. She decided that the dismissal by the uptight brunette from the bar had thrown her off her game. She had still been thinking about her, strangely craving more of her, when Becky stepped in and filled the void.

  The Jeep pulled in next to her small car. When Syd stepped from the sleek black Porsche, Becky was already coming toward her, swaying her hips seductively as she approached. She wound her arms around Syd’s neck and started to kiss her impatiently.

  “Let’s wait till we’ve made it inside, okay, Beck?” Syd glanced around the deserted parking lot in case someone had seen the overt display.

  “Whatever you say, sexy,” the blonde purred, a little too loud and a little too eager. “I can’t believe I finally get to see your place…after all this time.”

  This was a bad idea, Hyatt, she scolded herself. She shushed Becky as they headed through the foyer to her home. This could get ugly.

  A giggling Becky oohed and aahed sufficiently when Syd opened the door. Her home always made a favorable impression on visitors, but she thought it unnecessary to spend time further seducing the clearly sure thing by taking her on a grand tour. Syd slid her arm around Becky and led her to the chaise jutting out from the sofa.

  “You want a drink, doll?” Syd offered casually.

  “Sure, lover. I’ll take whatever you have.” Becky kicked off her shoes and glanced around the apartment. “But don’t be long, I can’t wait for you to touch me much longer. You know what you do to me, Syd,” Becky said seductively.

  Syd walked slowly back and handed Becky a vodka tonic. She’d seen Becky drink them repeatedly and it didn’t require much effort to produce. Syd was feeling uneasy and certainly wasn’t trying to woo the woman perched on her couch. That, she thought, would be a significant waste of effort given her obvious intention to capitulate.

  Becky took the drink and gulped enthusiastically. “Are you trying to make me tipsy, Sydney?” She stroked Syd’s arm and tipped her head onto the taller woman’s shoulder. Syd rolled her eyes. She had made sure that there was little to no alcohol in the glass, so there would be no excuse for Becky to linger in her home.

  Becky placed the drink on the table and offered her lips to Sydney in a too obvious gesture. Syd covered the blonde’s mouth, delivering a crippling kiss before cupping her breasts aggressively. Syd thought she smelled too sweet and felt too soft. She commended herself for creating the encounter and simultaneously wished it was not happening. Syd pressed Becky back against the sofa and continued the kiss.

  Becky groaned in a surrender that hadn’t yet been requested and writhed with anticipatory pleasure under the weight of her suitor’s muscular torso. They backed farther onto the fabric surface as Syd dictated the next place she would take her conquest’s body. Compliance was expected and given eagerly. This time, somehow for Syd, a little too readily.

  Sliding the dress’s side zipper down and over the blonde’s curves, Syd revealed the firm camber of her hips and large, full breasts which Syd reached impatiently with her mouth.

  Sliding lower and across her abdomen, Syd guided her mouth over the plane of Becky’s skin, following a trail of hot breath with gentle bites at her aroused flesh. The night’s companion rode and moaned in anticipation as Syd directed her body. Syd pulled her long fingers down each thigh, sliding the dress lower until it folded onto the floor.

  Breathy demands petitioned Syd for more. Syd defiantly ignored Becky’s direction, as if to restate her assumption of control. Syd couldn’t remember when she wasn’t the master of this particular game. She smoothly skidded her talented fingers across the tender flesh of the blonde’s inner thigh, capturing her hot center and smugly noting her body’s instant obedience as it rushed to open for her fingers.

  Syd heard Becky’s breath stutter as Syd took command. In a short time, louder demands for release became more frequent as Syd explored the body beneath her. She watched Becky’s eyes flutter as her hands clenched urgently at Syd’s neck and shoulders.

  “Please, please,” she heard Becky cry. Syd continued to slide her fingers slowly over the burning places, circling her fingers over Becky’s nerve center before driving inside once again. Becky cried out at the rush flooding her body. Sydney’s nimble fingers drove Becky to the edge for the last time. She was rewarded by a loud gasp from her pliable partner who bruised her mouth over Sydney’s. Syd had succeeded in slowly pushing her companion to the white hot explosion her body craved. Becky jerked against the sensations causing her to cry out with pleasure and buried her face into Syd’s sturdy chest. Syd again covered Becky’s mouth as she guided her past the last wave. Becky’s head curled into the sofa as she fell victim to the ebbing moments of her release. Syd slowly moved her hands away from the blonde’s clenching muscles.

  Normally, Sydney would seek a second or even a third performance, as much to cement her reputation as a talented lover as to prove that she could dominate in bed and drive a woman to new heights and longer releases. She loved the desperate sounds of a woman losing control under her command and whispered directives. Syd loved taking a woman there. Fast and slow, soft and hard, governing her body with her talented hands and agile tongue. She felt empowered and energized by it.

  Tonight was somehow different. As Becky moaned her appreciation, she slid her fingers under the collar of Syd’s T-shirt while snaking her tongue back into Syd’s mouth. She proceeded to scrape her long fingernails down Syd’s throat. Syd pulled away suddenly and moved to sit against the back of the couch, drawing an audible whine.

  “I want to make you feel good too, baby,” Becky cooed, now kneeling at Syd’s ear. Syd smoothly deflected her roaming hands by stroking her lips lightly across Becky’s fingers.

  “You get to be a pillow princess tonight, honey.” Syd tapped her chin. Truth be told, Syd preferred it that way. “Just enjoy it.” Seeming momentarily appeased, Becky wrapped her naked skin in the white cotton blanket draped over the couch. She crawled into Syd’s side as Syd accommodated her, idly wondering how long they would have to be there before Syd could walk her politely out to her car. She felt uncomfortable having someone in her private sanctuary and made a note nev
er to let it happen again.

  Becky sighed contentedly and whispered, “Maybe I can return the favor when we wake up.” Alarm bells shrilled in Syd’s head. Damn. Damn. Damn. Reason number 721 why you cannot—do not—bring girls home from the bar.

  The awkward moment had come quickly and Sydney stood, hurriedly refolding herself to crouch in front of Becky. Syd swept the dress off the floor, smoothing it over the sofa cushion with feigned concern. Becky’s shocked face clouded as her angelic postsex expression was wrestled away by indignant anger.

  “That would be so great, sugar,” Syd lied easily, hoping the term of endearment would pacify her, “but I have a really early morning and my client meeting is here.” Leaning over to kiss her neck she delivered the final blow. “Can I have a rain check?” Syd said, hoping to take the sting out of the postcoital eviction from her home. No such luck.

  Becky launched herself from the sofa, snatching her dress up and over her hips with impressive precision and speed, suggesting this was not the first redressing tantrum she had ever had. As she slid her feet into her four-inch sparkly heels, she came closer to meeting Syd eye to eye. Fire flashed in her eyes. Syd noted that she had liked it better when she stood a foot over Becky.

  “I don’t go home with just any stud that picks me up at a bar, you know,” she spat.

  Syd refrained from pointing out that she seemed to have done just that, and on at least four occasions with Sydney alone.

  “I thought we had something good, Syd,” she said angrily.

  Sydney reviewed the ten short sentences they had spoken to each other that evening, between the loud music and making out. Even if she counted every other time they had seen each other, all the sentences combined couldn’t have amounted to even an hour’s worth of conversation. Syd wondered how Becky could possibly have arrived at that conclusion. Wisely, she didn’t bring that up either and silently congratulated herself at her restraint.