by Leigh Hays
A muted alarm from the bedroom reminded her that Rebekiah was there. Images from last night flashed through her head, and she actively suppressed them to reply, “Really? Regarding?”
Li Jing leaned in. “You. Our business dealings. An organization called the Kharitonov Group.” She glanced aside and lowered her voice. “I pulled a few strings. They have ties to the Russian mafia. If you’re connected with this group, you need to be very careful.”
Lindsey leaned back. Rumors always surfaced with flashy Russians, that they were working for the mob. What disturbed her more was the fact that the government was starting to contact her business colleagues. It represented a threat to her livelihood. If word got out that her company was under investigation, she could lose credibility and business deals. She rubbed her face. She’d need to let Cathryn know. “Thanks.”
Li Jing nodded. She switched to Cantonese. “Let me know if I can be of service. I am not without resources. I have many pockets, and they are deep.” Her eyes narrowed, and she grinned. “I see I’m keeping you from a more pleasurable morning.”
Lindsey turned; Rebekiah had walked out of the bedroom in a robe. Lindsey faced Li Jing with a chagrined look. “She just woke up.”
Li Jing chuckled. “Happiness looks good on you.” The video window winked out as the call disconnected.
Rebekiah leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Lindsey closed her eyes. “You didn’t.” Reaching up, she pulled Rebekiah in for a kiss. Light caresses gradually turned more purposeful. She slid her hands into the robe and loosened the tie. Rebekiah shrugged out of it. Standing, Lindsey traced a line of kisses up her neck. She wanted to touch, make her come apart in her hands, her mouth. But Rebekiah had been resistant to sharing power, and it was starting to bother her. Rebekiah demanded trust without giving it back. She still held all the cards, and Lindsey wanted to change that. With a groan, she wrenched her head away and pulled back.
Rebekiah kissed her collarbone. “Why’d you stop?”
Lindsey tilted her head back and moaned, her body giving in before her mind. “I should get to work.”
Rebekiah slipped under her T-shirt and pushed it up. Her fingers fanned across Lindsey’s stomach and moved up to her breasts. “I’ve heard that one before…”
She groaned and arched into the touch.
Rebekiah whispered, “Are you sure?”
Lindsey captured her mouth in a searing kiss and, then, stepping back, tugged Rebekiah’s hand toward the bed. “It can wait.”
She took her time, kissing along the length of Rebekiah’s body and using her own body to say the things she couldn’t say with words. A kiss that said trust me, a touch that said I’m here for you.
Rebekiah seemed to sense her desire and changed the way she touched as well. They moved together until Rebekiah came with a deep groan, and Lindsey followed with a shuddering gasp. They lay wrapped in each other’s arms while Lindsey’s mind wandered and Rebekiah’s fingers ran along her back in a haphazard pattern. In the hazy post-sex bliss, Lindsey struggled to give voice to her underlying frustration with their power imbalance; its importance had faded with the intensity with which they made love.
Rebekiah spoke first. “Do you really have work?”
“I always have work.” She sighed, and all her relationship thoughts dissipated in the wake of that question.
“I’m thinking about bumping my flight. I’ve got a few things I want to do in the city.”
Lindsey glanced up. They’d been in New York for two days, meeting with foundations and talking about the creation of Rebekiah’s foundation. She was on the cusp of passing her along to a colleague. This was the last business trip she had planned with her, and even though they’d met in other cities for other reasons, she worried their connection would fade. The feeling of intimacy was so fragile right now. “Anything I can help with?”
Rebekiah smiled at her. “Want to see an art show?”
* * *
Vancouver, London, Berlin: they were Lindsey’s world. She’d had no idea how much fun it would be to have Rebekiah with her. Her presence did not detract from work; in fact, it made work more enjoyable. But New York was Rebekiah’s domain, and she was vague about the artist they were seeing.
They ate a late breakfast in Soho. Rebekiah told stories about her time in New York, and Lindsey added her own escapades. But Li Jing’s parting words rolled around in her head. Happiness looks good on you. Was that the feeling she experienced around Rebekiah? It felt so different that it was hard to define.
After brunch, Rebekiah took her to the Whitney Whitaker Gallery. Lindsey suppressed her surprise when she read one exhibit from a list at the door—Thea Devore: A life in photos.
“Is that your Thea?” she asked even though she knew the answer. She’d drawn up paperwork two months ago for their trust.
Rebekiah nodded and held the door. “It opened in October.”
The space was filled with a vast amount of light considering the solid gray February outside. White walls with gray accents provided a sterile background for the art. The women moved along the first exhibit before Thea’s, taking their time with each picture.
Rebekiah chuckled. “She’s really rather good. Thea would hate her.”
Lindsey glanced at the backdrop of kids on a playground underneath a billboard advertising adult entertainment. “Why?”
“Its themes are too obvious. Innocence in the face of reality.”
They moved to the second floor via a metal staircase—complete with see-through rivets—that looked like its own version of modern art. Rebekiah paused at the top, and Lindsey looked toward the two adjoining rooms. Pictures hung on the wall of various shapes and sizes, a mix of color and black and white. The line of Rebekiah’s shoulders tensed.
Somewhat surprised by that reaction—she did bring them here on purpose—Lindsey stepped around and held out her hand. “Come on. Show me.”
Rebekiah took her hand, and she squeezed it and pulled her along. The first few pictures were striking. Shots from the seventies with lots of butches and drag queens interspersed with other people and drug paraphernalia. And then it changed.
A curly haired tomboy with a blue and white striped collared shirt stared at the camera while perched on the lap of a woman in profile rolling a cigarette in her hands. A white picket fence stood in the background with street traffic behind it. Sasha and Rebekiah, Key West, 1989. The eyes were definitely Rebekiah’s. Something about the slope of the older woman’s shoulder made Lindsey ask, “Is that your mother?”
“Yes,” was so soft she almost missed it.
She needed to tread lightly. Of all the art galleries in the city, she chose this one. There was something here that touched deeper than Emma, an older hurt. Strange how Lindsey could see that so clearly now. She squeezed her hand again, and Rebekiah relaxed. “How old were you?”
Rebekiah stared at it. “Five or six. If it’s summer, then six.” She let go of her hand.
Lindsey wandered down the aisle. “I didn’t know she took so many pictures of you.”
Rebekiah followed at a slower pace and shrugged. “Thea took pictures of everyone.”
They stared at a picture of a twentysomething Rebekiah kissing another girl while tucked into a corner behind a bookshelf with the camera leering at an angle. First Kiss, 2001. Lindsey wandered, seeing Rebekiah at various ages. So open and innocent. Then more pictures of her mother and more drug culture.
She paused at another still with Rebekiah’s mother standing next to an open casket. Sasha and Martin. Providence, 1984.
Rebekiah came up behind her. “My dad.”
“Is this staged?” She stared at Sasha’s expression and realized it couldn’t have been staged. The grief was too raw.
Rebekiah shook her head. “No, it’s his funeral.” She chuckled. “My mother broke her camera after that shot.” She got quiet and stared for a minute longer. “I don’t think s
he ever really got over him.”
The photos of Rebekiah tapered off after college. At the end, Lindsey turned and shook her head. “All these pictures of you.”
Rebekiah stood in the center of the room with her arms spread. “All these pictures of me.”
Lindsey tilted her head. This was how Rebekiah did it, how she got women to have sex on camera. How she saw through Lindsey so easily. She had spent her entire childhood and early adulthood on display. She knew how it felt to be exposed. Like Lindsey growing up as a child of a politician, Rebekiah’s private life had been subject to scrutiny. She knew how to maintain privacy in the face of publicity. They were two sides of the coin. Rebekiah exposed; Lindsey hidden. But together, they could put their barriers down and let themselves be seen. She walked over and took Rebekiah’s face in her hands. She kissed her softly, gently. “Thank you.”
Rebekiah smiled. “For what?”
“For showing me this.”
Rebekiah shrugged. “I wanted to see the exhibit.”
Lindsey let her have that lie and took her out to dinner, but the mood had changed. She tried not to take it personally but she mourned the loss. Rebekiah closed off, and when they got back to the hotel, Lindsey pretended to be too tired for sex and offered to sleep on the couch to avoid any awkward cuddling.
“Why would you do that?”
Lindsey shrugged. “You seem like you need some space.”
She stared. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch in our hotel room. If you want me to, I can get another room.”
Lindsey shook her head. “No, I’m not…yeah, stay.” So much for avoiding awkward.
Rebekiah rolled her eyes. “I think I can sleep next to you without having sex.” She raised an eyebrow. “Can you?”
Lindsey tossed a throw pillow at her.
Rebekiah caught it and laughed. “Come on. Let’s cuddle.”
Lindsey groaned, but when they crawled into bed together, Rebekiah opened her arms, and she slid into them. They lay together in the dark for a few minutes before Lindsey spoke. “It was hard for you, wasn’t it?”
Rebekiah shifted but didn’t pull away. “Mmm.”
Lindsey knew she wasn’t asleep. She’d never felt more connected and distant from her. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve been in a fishbowl all my life. Since I was a baby.”
Lindsey smiled at the memory of that particular picture. “And what a cute baby you were.”
“Photography was my way of stepping out of the limelight. And I was good at it. And then Emma calls me up.”
Lindsey tightened her hold. Rebekiah squeezed back.
“We haven’t seen each other in years, and she wants to come home. She’s dying. And she’s angry. She wants me to help her make something of her life, so I spend the next year photographing her decline one day at a time.”
Lindsey waited, determined to be here for her. No more ducking away from the hard stuff.
“She broke me.”
Lindsey shifted up on her elbow and looked down at her in the dim light. “You’re not broken.”
“I know. But for the longest time, I couldn’t connect without the camera. You changed that. You saw me.”
Tears welled in Lindsey’s eyes. She was glad it was dark. It had taken Rebekiah this long to open up, and she was scared that so much emotion would make her run away again. She swallowed and asked, “Why did you take me to the show?”
“I wanted you to know who I was before Emma.” Even though her body language said it was hard, Rebekiah had deliberately opened a door. Lindsey had figured that out earlier but did not understand what door she was opening. It wasn’t about Thea; it was about Lindsey. She felt the weight of the relationship shift, and rather than run away, she embraced it. She finally allowed herself to acknowledge the feeling that had been growing since December—love.
She could do this, and she would. “Can I hold you tonight?”
Rebekiah shifted and said, “That would be nice.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Two weeks before her show opened, Rebekiah stood outside another hotel room in another city—Hong Kong—waiting for Lindsey to answer the door. It had been almost two months since she’d hopped a flight to Vancouver. Despite the near-constant jet lag, Rebekiah was beginning to see the allure. It wasn’t just the work that pulled Lindsey in; it was the travel. It was so easy to step outside herself in a distant place. Each trip opened a new window into Lindsey’s world, and Rebekiah experienced a freer version of her. She liked that.
She’d almost passed on this trip—both her show and the constant shuttling of Sera to different sitters was starting to wear on her—but it was Hong Kong, a place that had significant meaning to Lindsey, so at the last minute, she booked a flight.
The door opened, and all her thoughts dissipated with Lindsey’s smile. “Hey.”
“You’re here.” Lindsey pulled her in for a searing kiss against the door.
Rebekiah smiled into the kiss and nipped at her lips.
She grinned and let her tongue play with the edge of Rebekiah’s mouth. “I have wanted to do this since New York.” She drew her into a deeper kiss.
Rebekiah grabbed her waist while they moved together, kissing and sucking. She fumbled with the tiny buttons on Lindsey’s blouse; Lindsey just pulled it over her head and threw it aside. Rebekiah worked her belt, button, and zipper in a matter of seconds. Lindsey bucked against her when Rebekiah slipped into her underwear and toward her opening. She groaned and stepped back with her hands on Rebekiah’s shoulders. “I’m so wet.”
“I can tell.” Rebekiah grinned and moved the hand still in her pants.
She stilled Rebekiah’s hand between her legs and looked at her. “I want to fuck you.”
Rebekiah swallowed. Lindsey wasn’t asking about the actual act; she wanted to take charge. As the months had gone by, Lindsey had become more assertive in their physical relationship. Instead of pushing her away, the change in power dynamics turned Rebekiah on.
“Will you let me do that for you?” She circled Rebekiah’s body and licked her earlobe. The tips of her nipples grazed Rebekiah’s back. “I’ll take care of you, you know that.” She slipped her hand into Rebekiah’s waistband.
Rebekiah tilted back and groaned when Lindsey brushed her clit. It would be so easy to let her take control. She already trusted her with so much. Taking a deep breath, she let go of her fear and said, “Okay.”
“You’re so wet. And ready for me.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against Lindsey, whose fingers moved at a leisurely pace in her wet folds.
Lindsey pulled away and held out her hand. “Come on.”
She let Lindsey direct her toward the bedroom. Lindsey crawled up the mattress to straddle her thighs with a feral grin on her lips. She worked Rebekiah’s belt off and cinched it over both her hands. “My turn.”
Lindsey pulled Rebekiah’s pants off, along with her underwear, and pushed her legs apart. She continued pushing until Rebekiah bent her knees, heels touching her ass. Open and exposed, she knew what she looked like. She’d taken this picture before, and the voyeuristic aspect thrilled her, especially on the other side of the lens.
Lindsey leaned down and brushed a series of light kisses along Rebekiah’s inner thighs. She touched between her legs with a kiss before she looked up. Grinning, she said, “You like to watch?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Lindsey trailed a line of kisses up her hip across her stomach to her breasts, which she licked until the nipples pebbled, and then she bit each one in succession. Rebekiah arched in response. “A little pain before pleasure. Too bad I don’t have those clamps with me. Those really hurt.”
She traced Rebekiah’s chest and up to her bound arms, then crawled off the bed. She cupped her own breasts for a minute while Rebekiah watched and strained against the belt. She could move if she wanted to, but she didn’t. Even though Lindsey was calling the shots, she could still stop it, and that help
ed her accept the power shift.
Lindsey pushed her own pants off. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Coming back, she slid down Rebekiah’s body, kissing her way down. “You’re awful quiet. Let me change that.”
She licked Rebekiah’s opening from top to bottom, twirling down around her perineum and then back up to her clit. Rebekiah jerked at the touch, and Lindsey clenched harder around her thighs and said, “That’s it, stay with me.”
Rebekiah writhed as Lindsey repeated the motion again and again. Her frustration grew with each touch; Lindsey’s tongue always just missed the right place to make her come. She finally gave voice to her desperation and whispered, “Please…”
Lindsey stopped licking and trailed her fingers against Rebekiah’s opening. “Please? Please what?” She pushed two fingers inside, and Rebekiah bucked. Lindsey pulled out, and her hips slumped back down. “What do you need?”
Rebekiah closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew what Lindsey wanted, but the words would not come. She had already given so much and heard the begging in her voice as she asked again, “Please.” It was too hard to give in. She couldn’t do it. She started to sit up, struggling with the belt.
Lindsey crawled up her body, and Rebekiah lunged forward to kiss her, determined to take back control. She tasted herself on Lindsey’s lips. Lindsey’s tongue twirled and twisted inside her mouth just like it had been doing between her legs moments before. She lost herself to the feeling as Lindsey continued to kiss her.
Lindsey pulled back, and Rebekiah chased her. Leaning back, she put a hand on Rebekiah’s chest—the same place Rebekiah always put her hand—as if to calm her. “Shh. It’s okay.”
She took a deep breath and stared into Lindsey’s face. It was almost too much, letting her have this power.
Lindsey smoothed her skin. “You need to trust me. Do you trust me?”
Rebekiah nodded.
Lindsey smiled gently. “I need you to be here. You’re going to have to let go. Can you do that for me?” She held Rebekiah’s hand.
Rebekiah squeezed her hand and closed her eyes. She took comfort in the touch and tried to give in to the intimacy she wanted. Just like in New York, when she realized how emotionally closed off she’d been, how she had been the same in all their sexual encounters. Even now, she was trying to maintain control. She needed to let go. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and said, “Yes.”
