Passion's Bright Fury

by Radclyffe

  *

  While Sax got them a room, Jude waited in the shelter of the short overhang that ran above the narrow cement walkway fronting the dozen motel units. She tried to remember the last time she had done anything as unplanned and out of character as this and couldn’t. But watching the wind slant the rain in heavy sheets against the asphalt parking lot while goose bumps grew large on her arms, she couldn’t help but feel that some part of her had been waiting for this moment. Whatever strange congruence of forces was at work to bring her to this particular spot on this particular night, she wasn’t going to question it. She was alive, and she might very well not have been. In fact, she had never felt so alive.

  Turning at the sound of approaching footsteps, she watched Sax draw near, enjoying the sight of her lean muscular body and the way her rain-soaked T-shirt clung to her breasts and stomach. Sax pushed her wild, dark hair out of her eyes with the casual flick of her hand, and Jude was reminded of the skillful, certain competence in those fingers. Another rush of liquid heat streamed from the base of her belly down her legs, and she had to pull her bottom lip between her teeth to hide its quivering.

  “I expect these accommodations will be less than four-star,” Sax joked as she fitted the key to the lock with hands that trembled slightly. She was intensely aware of Jude standing just behind her, as if she could sense the woman through her skin. Every sensation seemed heightened—her skin prickled with excitement; her blood ran hot through her veins; every atom in her body seemed to vibrate. She was stoked red-hot, on the verge of exploding, and she wondered if it showed.

  “If there’s heat and hot water,” Jude rejoined lightly, grateful to step into the generic motel room out of the lashing storm, “I’ll be more than satisfied.”

  It took only the briefest glance to confirm that it was, indeed, the standard, unadorned, functional fare of any roadside lodge. A double bed, a dresser with a plastic ice bucket, cellophane wrapped cups, and a cable TV edged the room.

  “I think at least one of your requirements will be met,” Sax remarked as she walked to the opposite side of the room, twisted a dial on the forced air heater, and held her hand above the unit. Facing Jude across fifteen feet of space that suddenly felt much smaller, she remarked softly, “You’re drenched and shaking. I think you should shower first. If you drape your clothes over a chair by this blower, they’ll dry faster.”

  “All right.” The plan made sense. Jude wondered if she should point out that neither of them had a change of clothes, and then thought she would probably sound foolish. There was no reason two adults couldn’t be in the same room together in a state of near undress without losing control of themselves. No reason at all.

  She took several steps toward the bathroom and stopped, staring at Sax who had lifted one foot to the single straight-backed chair to pull off her boots. It reminded Jude of the way she had looked that first morning making rounds in the TICU, so damned arrogant and commanding. Her eyes followed the long, taut line of Sax’s leg and in the next instant, she flashed on the memory of Sax in the murky light of the bar, back arched as she was about to come. Her head swam with the vision and something tightened deep inside her.

  “This isn’t going to work,” she said breathlessly, her voice nearly unrecognizable to her own ears.

  “Oh, yes, it is,” Sax responded, her own tone low and dangerous as she straightened. She moved so quickly she was beside Jude in the space of a heartbeat. Then she tugged the borrowed T-shirt from Jude’s jeans at the same instant as her mouth came down on the redhead’s. A low groan that turned to a ravenous growl escaped her as their lips met.

  Sax hadn’t a single coherent thought in her mind, only a collage of images, all of them Jude—pensive and quiet as they talked on the rooftop, intense and focused as she worked, helpless and vulnerable in the sights of a gun. Her hands danced over Jude’s skin, tracing along the arch of ribs, the tips of her fingers gently following the faint spaces between the fragile bones. She slid upward until her hands closed around Jude’s breasts, her thumbs coming to rest on the hardened prominence of her nipples.

  “Ohh,” Jude moaned as she pressed her lower body against Sax’s. Frantically, she tugged Sax’s wet T-shirt free from tight jeans as she reclaimed the kiss.

  Their tongues met, gliding over and around, as Jude forcefully backed Sax in the direction of the bed with the press of her body. When Sax’s legs hit the edge of the mattress and she tumbled backward, Jude went down on top of her. Their legs intertwined, Sax’s hands still on Jude’s breasts, their mouths still seeking.

  Gasping, Jude reared back, breaking their contact to stare wordlessly down into Sax’s eyes as she stripped the T-shirt off her torso and threw it onto the floor. Unable to tear her gaze away from Sax’s face, inflamed by the desire echoed in those blue eyes, she reached for Sax’s shirt, insistently tugging at it until the woman beneath her arched her back from the bed and ripped it off. Then, hair streaming with rainwater and breasts damp with sweat and storm, Jude fell upon her again. Bare upper bodies fused, jean-clad hips thrust, and their mouths met in a clash of hunger and need.

  Sax wrapped her arms around Jude’s back and tilted her pelvis to the side, rolling Jude over and following in one continuous motion, ending on top of her. She moved away despite Jude’s protesting moan and, with shaking hands, groped for the buttons on Jude’s jeans. Frantically following her lead, Jude pulled at Sax’s fly and slipped one hand inside.

  As Jude’s fingers worked lower, Sax’s vision dimmed and the roaring in her ears escalated to deafening levels. She was desperately afraid she might come the instant Jude found her clitoris, and almost as afraid she would beg if Jude didn’t touch her soon. She wanted to come with a ferocity that was driving her insane. Finally, beyond thought, she stood and pushed her jeans down, kicking them away. Jude’s eyes were on her, inviting her, urging her to return, as she just as vehemently bared her own flesh. Sax stretched out upon her again and wedged her thigh between Jude’s, crying out as Jude’s skin slid slickly between her legs.

  “I’m coming,” Sax groaned helplessly, shuddering as a barrage of sensations gathered between her legs and pummeled toward her spine. “Oh God, I’m coming.”

  Jude could do nothing but hold her. As she felt the tremors ripple through Sax’s body, for a timeless moment, her own heart stilled in her chest. She had never known such sweet, sweet wonder, and had she been able to form thoughts, she would have realized she had never before even dared dream it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Still shivering lightly, Sax lay where she had collapsed, her cheek cradled against Jude’s chest, listening to the erratic pounding of their hearts. Jude’s hands were in her hair, stroking softly down the back of her neck and over her shoulders. The razor edge of her desperate need had been softened by her violent release, but desire smoldered fiercely in her still. Turning her face a fraction, she pressed her lips to the hot, slick skin and pulled a tensely swollen nipple between her teeth, smiling faintly as Jude’s hips rose involuntarily under her own.

  Wordlessly, she drew her fingertips along the curve of Jude’s breast, cupping her hand around the sensitive flesh, drawing Jude deeper into her mouth. At that, Jude moaned faintly, her hands trembling now where they lay on Sax’s back. As Sax sucked, biting lightly with no particular rhythm, she shifted enough so that she could explore Jude’s body. She’d been too frantic earlier, too blinded by the ferocious hunger, but now she wanted to revel in her. Lightly, she ran her fingers up and down Jude’s stomach, over the arch of hip—pressing her thumb into the tender hollow just inside her hipbone, then drawing it along the line of her upper thigh to the outer edges of the soft damp curls at the base of Jude’s belly. With each stroke, Jude’s legs shook.

  “You feel so good,” Jude whispered faintly against Sax’s ear, her voice thick with urgency. Her body hummed with arousal, honed to laser sharpness by their lovemaking.

  Sax lifted her mouth and murmured, “I’m just getting started.”


  “I’m so...God, I’m so...” Jude shuddered, the ache so intense she could barely think. “Do something—please.”

  “All right,” Sax whispered. Moving her lips swiftly to the opposite breast, she caught the erect nipple sharply between her teeth and bit down.

  Jude cried out, arching off the bed. “No...yes...yes...” she choked out, her clitoris twitching sharply. “You’ll make...me...come,” she warned, wanting to hold on but so close she knew she couldn’t.

  Sax relented, keeping Jude’s nipple in her mouth but merely brushing the tip with her tongue. Curled against Jude’s side, with Jude’s pulse tripping frantically beneath her cheek, Sax struggled to ignore her own rising excitement. She eased her thigh over Jude’s, rubbing her wetness over the soft skin—a torturous pleasure, but some small bit of relief from the escalating pressure nevertheless. Slowly and deliberately, she slid a finger along either side of Jude’s stiff, swollen clitoris, then squeezed firmly as she rocked her hand lightly back and forth.

  When Jude whimpered, it took all of Sax’s restraint not to enter her immediately, not to claim her completely, not to give her what she so clearly needed—that swift, blinding relief. Biting her lip, she ran her thumb feather-light over the sensitive tip, scarcely breathing.

  “Please...please...please...” Jude intoned, her head rocking anxiously. She forced her eyes open, but she was too crazed to focus. “I can’t...I can’t I can’t...” She found Sax’s wrist and tried to force her hand inside, protesting incoherently when Sax resisted.

  Sitting up quickly, Sax straddled Jude’s thigh, thrusting hard along the tense muscle, aware of the warning spasms between her own legs but pushing the cry of her flesh from her consciousness. Jude. It was Jude she wanted. Watching Jude’s face as she touched her, she drew her fingers teasingly along the edges of the hot, full folds, almost frightened by the magnitude of her own desire. God, she wanted to be inside her; she wanted to fill her and drive her hard to the edge and over. She wanted to know her—only her—for those few precious seconds.

  “Jude,” she whispered softly. “Jude.”

  Already sensing the first welcome swell of orgasm, Jude heard the call from far away, a strong, gentle voice demanding she follow. Blinking, she gasped as another ripple of excitement rolled through her, but she managed to find the blue eyes, so dark they were almost purple, intense and penetrating, gazing down at her. Helpless, she had no choice but to deliver herself to her confident, unwavering lover.

  Deep inside, the pressure crested as Sax filled her, one excruciating fraction of an inch at a time. She opened to accept the pleasure, closed to contain the passion, over and over and over. One sharp cry escaped her as she spasmed hard and fast, but she kept her focus on that commanding face. Then her body clenched almost painfully as Sax pushed deeper, forcing an even greater burst of release.

  “Sax!” Jude screamed, her eyes finally closing as she reared off the bed, her stomach muscles contracting with the explosion.

  “Jude,” Sax whispered again, stunned by her beauty. “Jude.”

  *

  Jude moved her fingers and felt Sax’s clitoris twitch.

  Sax moaned faintly.

  “Have I missed something?” Jude murmured. They were lying wrapped around one another in the still, dark room, the sheets twisted around their lower legs. She had no memory of falling asleep, or how her hand had come to be where it was.

  “Dunno. Depends on what’s the last thing you remember.” Sax stretched, then placed her palm over Jude’s hand, trapping it against her. “God, that’s nice.”

  Jude stroked her lightly, still feeling a little out of body. “Uh...the last thing I remember. Let’s see...that would be a mind-shattering orgasm—mine, not yours.”

  “Well then”—Sax laughed—“you missed a minute or two.”

  “Damn,” Jude increased the pressure and speed a little, pleased when Sax gasped. “Can I have a replay?”

  “I’m taken care of for the moment,” Sax admitted apologetically, placing a kiss against Jude’s neck.

  “That,” Jude pronounced, squeezing her, “does not feel taken care of. Or is that your usual state?”

  Around you it seems to be. Sax shifted until they were face to face, and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. After a moment, she answered. “I think I need a bit more recovery time. Otherwise, I may need medical care.”

  “Oh, God—not that!” Laughing, Jude stopped the motion but kept a hand cupped loosely over her. She peered at the small bedside clock and groaned. “It’s 3:00 a.m. But I no longer have any idea what day it is.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No,” Jude replied, surprising herself, “it doesn’t.”

  It didn’t matter, and that fact was almost as astonishing as finding herself in bed with Saxon Sinclair. She didn’t usually fall into bed with women just because the very sight of them turned her bones to jelly, but here they were. It had happened, and God, it was good. For the rest of this crazy night, all she wanted was to fill her hands with Sinclair’s flesh, to taste her heat, to drown in her.

  Without intending it, she’d moved her fingers lower, and it wasn’t until she heard Sax groan close to her ear that she realized she had slipped inside her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered quickly, beginning to pull out.

  “No, stay,” Sax murmured, shuddering faintly, “just...stay. I can’t again, though—not yet.”

  Jude pressed closer until their bodies touched, joined inside and out. She enjoyed the quiet connection almost as much as the wild release they had just shared. “This’ll do,” she replied sleepily, “for the moment.”

  Sax chuckled softly as she closed her eyes, welcoming rest, if not sleep.

  *

  Turning carefully, so as not to awaken the slumbering woman in her arms, Sax squinted at the clock. She was astonished to see that it was a little after 8:00 a.m. Five hours of deep, uninterrupted sleep was unheard of for her, and she’d never slept with anyone that long in her life. Cautiously, she started to untangle her limbs from Jude’s.

  Jude protested, tightening her hold. “Where are you going?”

  “Shower.”

  “Why? Are we leaving?” Jude blinked. The hazy morning light was mercifully dulled by the heavy drapes pulled across the single large window.

  “Breakfast at Maddy’s should not be missed,” Sax remarked, leaning back enough to gaze the length of Jude’s body. In the clear light of day, she was even more beautiful than the night before, and that had been almost more than Sax could bear.

  “I see,” Jude said, aware she was being studied. She supposed she should feel self-conscious, or at the very least, perhaps embarrassed by her complete and total loss of control the night before, but she was neither.

  Since she had the opportunity, she stared back, confirming with her eyes what she had sensed with her hands and her lips hours before. Sinclair was all taut muscle and smooth flesh. Looking at her, Jude’s mouth was abruptly dry and other parts of her were not. She gently turned Sax’s face away with a finger on her jaw. “Oh, dear. This could be a problem.”

  “Hmm? What?” Sax asked absently, as she pushed the sheets lower to see the rest of the woman beside her.

  “There’s a new...mark...on your neck. I am so sorry,” Jude confessed, finally nonplussed. She had absolutely no memory of doing that. I never do that. Oh, hell—what am I saying? I never do this!

  “It’s okay. If Maddy notices, she won’t mention it. She already knows I’m all grown up,” Sax replied, clearly distracted. She traced the incision on Jude’s leg, her expression appraising. The scars were still thick, raised and red. There was a slight hollow in the middle of her calf where the muscle had been torn away.

  “When did this happen?” she asked.

  Jude stiffened slightly; she couldn’t help it. No one had ever touched her there. “Five years ago.”

  “Car accident?” Sax held her gaze.

  “No.” Jude wanted to say more but
her throat was so tight the words didn’t come. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk about it; it was just that when she did, some small part of the terror returned like an unwelcome visitor. Much, much better now than it had been, but she still had to struggle not to let the involuntary reaction frighten her. With difficulty, she murmured, “Subway crash.”

  Sax frowned, doing the math. “The one here in Manhattan?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was bad,” Sax said sympathetically. And this looks like it was bad, too. She hated thinking about Jude injured and in pain. The knowledge of what Jude must have suffered made her stomach clench, and she stroked the damaged skin softly, wishing she could undo the hurt.

  “I was lucky,” Jude stated. Lucky to be alive; lucky you were there. She sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up to her waist. “I remember you—at Bellevue. You were the first person I saw when I opened my eyes.”

  Sax stared at her, searching for a memory of Jude’s face, wondering if she had helped her then, hoping that she had eased her fear. “I don’t remember you,” she said regretfully after a minute. “I’m sorry.”

  “There were dozens of injured, and I wasn’t the worst.” Jude smiled. “I imagine you were a bit busy that day—I wouldn’t expect you to remember one patient. Then after the surgery, I was on the orthopedic floor, so you wouldn’t have had any reason to know me.”

  “I still should remember,” Sax insisted, running the backs of her fingers softly down Jude’s cheek. “I can’t imagine forgetting you.” I never will now.

  Jude shivered at the caress, her body tightening. They were very close, lips mere inches apart, leaning toward one another in the heavy silence.

  “Do we have time?” she breathed as she watched Sax’s eyes shade to purple.

  “Yes,” Sax said hoarsely, intent on the way Jude’s lips parted as her color rose. “Yes.”