by Leigh Hays
Lindsey squeezed her hand “Thank you.”
She closed her eyes when Lindsey’s lips touched her again. She opened herself to the sensations, letting them overwhelm her and turn off her defenses. No longer needing to be in control, she let herself feel.
Her climax started slow, matching Lindsey’s strokes, and then it changed. Her body grew charged and twitchy until her breath hitched. She bucked once, twice, then stiffened and collapsed on the bed as she came. Her orgasm rushed through her, leaving her hollowed out and exhausted.
Lindsey slid back up her body and loosened the belt. Rebekiah wrapped her arms around her. Hands roamed each other’s bodies, gentle caresses and soothing touches. Tracing Lindsey’s eyebrow, Rebekiah started to come back to herself.
Lindsey murmured, “That feels nice.”
Rebekiah continued her slow exploration until her energy returned. Then she shifted and moved on top. She slipped her leg between Lindsey’s and grinned at the wetness from earlier. “How about now?”
Lindsey gasped. “Yes.”
“And now?” She cupped Lindsey’s sex and started to play with her lips.
Lindsey leaned up and kissed her. Then she shifted and rubbed her leg against Rebekiah’s center. “It’s good. But this is better.” She rocked her leg for emphasis.
Rebekiah groaned and increased her speed in response. Lindsey pushed her fingers inside her and started a slow rhythm. Rebekiah pushed two fingers in, and Lindsey came back with an unexpected thrust. Rebekiah captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Using their knees for leverage, they pumped into each other as they kissed harder and harder. She felt herself getting close again when Lindsey wrenched her lips away and hissed, “I want you to come with me.”
She inhaled sharply and redoubled her efforts. They pushed and pulled against each other. Lindsey came with a shout, Rebekiah with a long moan. She held Lindsey tight to her for a minute before Lindsey withdrew her fingers. Rebekiah pulled out, too, and flopped back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. She felt like liquid.
The bed shuddered, and Rebekiah looked over. Lindsey looked at her and laughed.
Smiling, Rebekiah brushed against her hair. Her heart opened, and she wanted to scoop Lindsey inside. “What?”
“That felt fantastic.”
Rebekiah chuckled. “Really?”
Lindsey rolled back over on top. “Really.” Rebekiah pulled her close. Lindsey kept her hands free and stroked the hair from Rebekiah’s face. “You know why?”
Rebekiah kissed her lips with a gentle touch. “Tell me.”
Lindsey spoke the words against her lips. “Because you came with me.”
The words resonated. How long had Rebekiah been playing cat and mouse with people? Since Emma or was it before? Had she always kept a part of herself separate and alone? And what had she gained from that behavior? A safe secure existence with no real intimacy. Regret bubbled inside her, and she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Rebekiah caressed her cheek. “For keeping you at a distance.” Slowly, she worked her way down Lindsey’s body, tracing contours and curves with hands and lips, saying in touch what she couldn’t express in words. Lindsey spun her around so that their mouths worked each other at the same time. They moved from soft and languid to hard and fast. When Lindsey finally came, Rebekiah followed.
Turning, she crawled up and collapsed to the side, her body draped across Lindsey’s. She lay for a while, enjoying the taste of Lindsey on her lips and the aftershocks rocking through her; Lindsey caressed her hair. She was just starting to drift off to the sound of Lindsey’s heartbeat when she heard her whisper, “I love you.”
Rebekiah’s breath hitched. Did she feel the same way? Maybe. But she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to lie. Fear gnawed at her voice, keeping it silent.
Lindsey kept brushing her hair and whispered, “It’s okay. I just wanted you to know. It doesn’t have to change anything.”
But it did, and Rebekiah didn’t know how to say that, so she pulled Lindsey closer and pretended to fall asleep. The next day, Lindsey showed her the sights, and then they fucked all night before Rebekiah hopped a plane back to Providence.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Rebekiah sat and watched Neil lock the gallery doors with a mix of satisfaction and disappointment. He turned to her with a bright smile. “That went really well.”
She returned his enthusiastic grin. “I know.”
Aldina sat next to her on one of those round couches seen throughout the world in hotel lobbies and Victorian sitting rooms. This particular one did not suffer from an excess of red velvet but reflected the gallery’s open space with stark white fabric. She tapped Rebekiah’s hand. “You should be proud.” She yawned. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. It’s early. Do you have plans this evening?”
Neil flopped next to Rebekiah and leaned his head on her shoulder. “She’s coming out with me. Right?”
Rebekiah glanced at her watch. “I don’t know.” She didn’t tell them that the person she wanted to see all evening was a no-show. It wasn’t as if she was expecting Lindsey to be at the opening. She was still in Hong Kong. Lindsey’s declaration of love still surprised her. She didn’t know what to do with it. Did she feel the same way? She wasn’t sure. Love didn’t feel this way. Love carried a burden and a barb. It was fierce and critical. It soothed and then hurt. Her feelings toward Lindsey were none of those things. And when Lindsey hadn’t mentioned it the next day, she never brought it up again. Their texts hadn’t suffered, but something was different.
Neil nudged her. “Come on.” He looked at her with his best puppy dog eyes.
She groaned. She just wanted to go home to bed. “Okay.”
He slapped his knees and jumped up. “Let’s go.” He paused and looked at Aldina. “You coming?”
She shook her head and pushed off the couch. “There are a couple of flower arrangements in the office if you wanted to take a look.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll pull the car around,” Neil volunteered.
Rebekiah tossed him her keys and followed Aldina upstairs. She surveyed the various bouquets in vases and gift baskets scattered across the table, a box of chocolates, a crate of oranges, and a package from Harry and David in their midst. “Wow.”
Aldina smiled. “More than you expected?”
She nodded and glanced at the cards. The Harry and David package was from Elena, the chocolates from Nicole, and the box of oranges had the note, Thea wanted you to have something practical instead of flowers. Other well-wishers from the artist cooperative and the BDSM community had sent bouquets. She paused by a large glass vase of pale violet orchids interspersed with a white and red spotted variety and pulled the card. I can’t wait to see it. Love, Lindsey.
Love. Her fingers brushed the delicate petals. That was what Lindsey had said to her in Hong Kong, and yet Rebekiah had said nothing. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel it, but saying it…
Aldina paused beside her. “Oh, those are my favorite. So delicate and elegant.”
Rebekiah grabbed the vase. “I’m taking these home tonight. I’ll come back for the rest.” She kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks.”
Aldina wrapped her in her arms and said, “Anytime. I’m proud of you.”
“Are you in tomorrow?”
Aldina shrugged. “Call me, and I’ll swing by for you.”
Rebekiah nodded and bundled into her coat. On her way out, she switched off the critic inside and did a last circuit of the room. The comments had been positive and enthusiastic. Her work felt like hers for the first time in years.
She slowly made her way through the pictures, thighs, hips, backs, vulvas exposed in the act of intimacy—sometimes alone, sometimes with another, and sometimes in a group, but all in the same light with the same feel, same poses. It was elegantly staged. Each picture, each shot, that intimate moment captured over and over again. Picture after picture: Renee and Dawn, Meghan, Nicole an
d Jae, and the memories of those shoots. And how she’d only opened herself afterward both physically and emotionally. They were the bright spots in her life. Vivid memories captured amid the gray day to day. When did the color seep out of her existence?
Aldina and Elena were right—Emma did hurt her work, just not in the ways they thought. She skewed Rebekiah’s lens and severed her connection to her subjects. She’d been so disconnected since Emma’s illness—living her life, dealing with her death, settling her estate. She’d spent so much time gradually numbing out that it wasn’t until she started connecting again that it became obvious what had happened.
She came to a line of three pictures printed in landscape and bounded by two huge pictures blown up to three feet by three feet. Lindsey stared back at her—half-lidded, legs spread, fingers splayed, mouth open, and features twisted in pleasure. Lindsey had been a part of her professional return but more accurately, a reflection of her returning emotions.
Everything was different with Lindsey. The connection, the sex, the feelings. Standing in front of her work, she could finally say it back. She loved Lindsey. And not the ephemeral kind associated with infatuation and obsession, which had fueled her earlier drive to connect with Lindsey. It was a deep, abiding feeling of connection and commitment that came after allowing herself to be vulnerable to someone else.
Rebekiah didn’t really do love. She did connections and friendships but not relationships. At least in the traditional sense. Her models—her parents, Thea, Collette, and the other artists in their community—approached relationships more amorphously. And yet, they made lifelong commitments to each other. Lifelong, was that what she was looking for with Lindsey? She wasn’t sure, but the alternative was unthinkable.
She pulled out her phone and shot off a quick text: Got the flowers. Private showing when you get back?
Neil honked the horn.
She stuffed her phone back in her pocket, then ducked outside, cradling the flowers and protecting them from the cold. She slid into the passenger seat and tucked them on to the floor behind the driver’s seat. Buckling in, she banged her hand against the console and swore.
“You okay?” He glanced over and pulled away from the curb.
She nursed her hand and nodded. “This damn car.” Emma’s car.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It drives smooth.”
Rebekiah narrowed her eyes and made a decision. “Do you want it?”
“You’re serious?”
She glanced at the leather interior and too wide dials. She’d been in such a fog that she’d ignored her own discomfort and held on too long. “Yeah. I hate this car. I want a Jeep.”
He laughed, and Rebekiah joined him. She felt much lighter.
* * *
The flight attendant woke Lindsey up half an hour before they landed in Providence. The flight from Hong Kong to LA to Providence had been over twenty-three hours. She had slept fitfully for the last six. Taking an earlier flight, she’d hoped to be on time for Rebekiah’s opening. She wanted to surprise her. Everything was perfect until she went and said I love you. She had replayed and edited their last night together, trying to find a way to take it back. Sure, she wanted more. The truth was that she’d always wanted more in all of her relationships, but she’d never had the time to give it. Not even with Monica.
Monica, who’d become the standard by which all other women in her life were judged. Lindsey hadn’t made time for her and lost her. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Whether Rebekiah loved her or not, she was determined to make time for her.
Her stomach rumbled as the plane touched down. She looked out the window. Winter’s brown, black, and white had given way to spring’s green and blue. Hoisting her carry-on to her shoulder and starting down the concourse, she barely swiped her phone off airplane mode before it started a series of pings.
She stopped before the secure glass wall and read the last text from Sabine. Locked out of our office. She scrolled down farther. Cathryn arrested.
Bile rose in her throat, and an intense desire to turn and run made her shift toward the runway. All her planning and traveling felt useless in the sight of Agent Travers waiting up the walkway. She looked over her shoulder and spotted a couple of TSA agents approaching.
“Lindsey Blackwell?”
She nodded and held up her phone. The first agent took it and stripped her bag off her shoulder. The second one wrapped a hand around her elbow. “We’re taking you into custody.”
Panic clawed at her mind and she willed herself to stay calm. “What for?” she asked, even though she suspected. She needed time to think.
The first agent nodded toward the glass barrier. “There’s a warrant for your arrest, and we’re to hand you over to the DOJ once past the security gate.”
People stopped and watched. She caught one person holding up their phone as if were recording. They unlocked a glass door to the left of the revolving door and marched her to Agent Travers and the other DOJ agents. Panic became dread; this was bad.
“Hello, Lindsey.” Agent Travers smiled. “You don’t stay put, do you?” She nodded to the TSA. “We’ve got it from here.” She held up a set of handcuffs. “Please hold out your hands.”
Lindsey listened through her Miranda rights and nodded. She swallowed the wave of nausea rolling through her as Travers locked the cuffs in place. Taking her elbow, Travers turned her toward the exit and marched her to the escalators.
“I’ll need to speak with my lawyer before I answer any questions,” she called over her shoulder with a calm she did not feel.
“Of course.” Travers didn’t even bother to hide the weary sarcasm in her tone.
Travers helped her into the back seat of a Dodge Charger while the other agent put her bag in the trunk. Lindsey leaned forward. “What about the rest of my luggage?”
“We’ll pick it up.” The front door slammed, and the other agent settled behind the wheel.
Lindsey leaned back and watched the familiar landmarks roll past. Her fingers itched to text and get more information. She leaned forward twice to ask a question but pulled back before she opened her mouth. Cathryn’s advice ran through her mind. “Speak when spoken to.” She was surprised when they pulled into the same public parking garage that her firm used for its staff and clients. The Providence office of the US Department of Justice was less than a block away from her own building.
Inside, a middle-aged white man with a buzz cut and tight dress shirt confiscated her belongings and dropped them into a giant evidence bag before sealing it shut. Then he swung around an electronic reader. “Sign here.” Her entire life was locked in that bag—laptop, phone, passport. What the fuck was she going to do?
Another agent—this one a woman a few years older—ushered her into an adjoining room where they took her fingerprints. Then she brought her to another counter where they took her picture. She was no longer being detained, her possessions seized for an indeterminate time; she was being arrested, complete with mug shot. Her stomach churned, and she tasted bile at the back of her throat.
The agent took her into a windowless room with a table bolted to the floor and a D-ring on the table. “Here.” She gestured toward Lindsey’s hands. Lindsey was surprised when the agent took the cuffs off and nodded toward a chair. “Have a seat.” She turned and left.
Lindsey spotted cameras in each corner of the room. Keep it together. Sitting, she flexed her hands and rubbed her wrists. They hadn’t shown her the warrant; she had no idea what charges she was being brought up on. But Cathryn had been arrested, so it was something to do with their business. What had Roger gotten them into? His leaving had never felt right, but she’d been so distracted by the work—his work, her work—and then by Rebekiah.
She’d never been good at balancing work and personal stuff, and now she was paying for that. Nauseous and tired, she replayed all the interactions she’d had with Roger, wondering what she’d missed. Disheartened and despondent, she finally gave
up. For once in her life, she’d put her personal life before work by coming back early. But instead of being at Rebekiah’s show, she was sitting in an interrogation room waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Rebekiah woke up slightly hungover to someone banging on her front door. She threw on some clothes and stumbled into the hallway. Sera sat next to the door. The knock sounded again.
“Hold on, I’m coming.” She threw it open, and Elena breezed in. Sera barked once and followed her into the living room.
Rebekiah plodded after her. “What time is it?”
“A little past four. I called.”
Rebekiah glanced at her coffee table and saw her phone sitting there.
“Lindsey’s been arrested.”
“What? When?” Her mind struggled to catch up. She’d never heard back from Lindsey after she texted last night but dismissed it as time delay.
“Last night when she flew back into Providence. Her assistant called me. They’re still holding her. I haven’t been able to see her. I’m heading downtown, and I thought you’d like to come.” She folded her arms, and it was then that Rebekiah took in her outfit. She was dressed for work, courtroom suit and expensive accessories, a far cry from Rebekiah’s current shorts and T-shirt.
Afraid and worried, she shook herself awake. “Yeah. Let me throw something on.” She ducked into her bedroom and tossed off her shirt before she yanked on a pair of jeans and scooped up a bra.
Elena called, “We’ll drop your mutt off at my sister’s. The kids love her.”
Rebekiah walked back out, pulling a fresh T-shirt over her head. “Do you think we’ll be gone that long?”
