The Queen of Miami

by Heidi Lowe

  “You wouldn't want to do that, because then I couldn't do that thing you like. You know, the one where I bend you over a counter, I rob you of your panties–”

  Layke tried to gulp down the ball that was lodged in her throat, but it wouldn't budge.

  “Go to hell, Willa,” she said through gritted teeth, then stormed off towards the changing rooms. Once inside and alone again, she cursed and growled in frustration. She was frustrated at the universe for aligning her with this monster, who was using Layke's own urges and weakness to destroy her. Frustrated at her vagina for being so pathetic, so needy, so traitorous in aching for this woman – any woman. Frustrated at Willa for being so damn irresistible, and knowing it. Everyone and everything was to blame for her current state. She needed a cold shower, and fast, before her body overheated.

  Cool, lukewarm water trickled down her face, her chest, between her legs, refreshing her. The feel of the water against her nipples made them hard, the sensation wonderful. The dribble of liquid on her sex at a time when she desperately needed it, felt glorious. Then she heard the changing room door creak open in the distance.

  Please don't come in here, she chanted to herself, a shiver taking over her body. I won't be able to resist her if she does. I won't ever be able to say no. Naked, already sensitive to the touch, she knew she was vulnerable. And when the shower curtain drifted open moments later, when the naked, perfect body of Willa di Blasio stared back at her – the face no longer smug but filled with longing and want – she didn't try to put up a fight. Truthfully, she'd imagined submitting to her in the shower, in the car, in the middle of the street, everywhere. The image had brought her to climax when she'd been alone with her thoughts; now the act itself would do the same.

  “Thought I'd join you, to get to all those hard to reach places,” Willa said and stepped in, drawing the curtain closed behind her. She forced Layke against the wall, pressing herself against her, their nipples meeting.

  Layke's breathing was staggered, before Willa caught her in a forceful kiss that threatened to steal whatever breath she had left.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked weakly. Before she lost herself again, she just wanted to know why. It was the least Willa could give her in exchange for her innocence.

  “I don't know,” Willa said. Layke could see it in her eyes that she was being sincere. She didn't have an answer for it. Was it a compulsion, something she knew she had to do?

  But none of that mattered now. When Willa hoisted her up, supported by the wall, Layke's legs wrapped tightly around her waist, the whys didn't matter. As the river flowed over their bodies, their kisses grew more fierce, more desperate. Their nipples grazed lightly every now and then. With one arm Willa held her against the wall, while the other worked its way between her legs. Her fingers sought out that precious bean, which had now grown stiff and hard in expectation of what was to come. And when the finger finally met the nub, Willa caught Layke's breath in another kiss and didn't draw her mouth away until she had a rhythm going.

  Up and down, Layke's body jerked and scraped against the tiles, gliding easily thanks to the water. Willa was unremitting in her strumming, never letting up even for a second, forcing louder, more winded moans from Layke's lips. Everything together made it all the more pleasing; the press of Willa's bosom to hers, and the rocky nipples connecting with hers; the water hitting Layke's shoulder and running along her stomach; the slight burn against her back as her body rode up and down against the wall; even the sound of her own cries of passion. And Willa knew exactly where her weakest spot was, for some unknown reason. It was as if she'd been there a thousand times and had a built-in map of her vagina's hot points. Her fingers didn't tire or lose their steam, maintaining their rhythm and speed and pressure, and then altering them so Layke never knew what to expect next.

  “Does that feel good?” Willa whispered. “Huh, detective, does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, head rolling this way and that, the pressure to her bean almost too much to bear.

  “How about now?” Her mouth grazed her ear, and she switched the tempo once more, giving more force but moving with slower strides, as Layke's body went into overdrive and inched ever closer to the edge.

  “Yes.” The word became strangled in her throat.

  “How hard will you cum for me?”

  Layke didn't know precisely, but knew it would be one of the hardest she had ever cum in her life. Both times Willa had been responsible.

  Willa chewed lightly on her ear, body moving in time with Layke's. “All over me, detective, and don't hold back,” she whispered.

  Layke didn't hold back. When she came, she came hard, and she felt the jolt from her toes to her lips. Her orgasm lasted several seconds, spasms spreading across her body. Even the slightest touch to her painfully sensitive bean made her spasm. How much of the moisture between her legs was hers or the shower, she couldn't say.

  Willa's fingers didn't linger too long down there. She went back to grasping Layke with both hands, resting her cheek against Layke's while Layke fought to catch her breath. The shower continued its downpour over them. Then Layke took Willa's face in her hands and brought her lips to Willa's. This time when they kissed it wasn't forceful or aggressive, it was gentle, slow, calm, both because they were tired and because there was nothing left to prove. They'd hashed out their frustrations, their urges, their tensions, and this was all that was left. For Layke, the tingling sensation still present in her sex, that beautiful afterglow that came in the wake of a great orgasm, the kiss was the icing on the cake.

  Willa smiled tiredly at her once their lips parted. “I like it much better when we get along. When we're on the same team.”

  “We'll never be on the same team,” Layke said. “Not while I'm me and you're you.”

  Willa held her tighter, closer. “So it's just about politics?”

  “Stop breaking the law then it won't be.”

  “Get rid of your badge and I'll think about it.”

  Layke narrowed her eyes at her. “I'm not going to do that. And neither will you.”

  “You're right. We're just who we are.” Willa kissed her face, then returned to her lips, where she took her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I have to say, if ever there was a vagina that would get me on the straight and narrow, on the path of righteousness, this would be it.” She smiled down at Layke's crotch.

  Layke didn't believe a word of it, and certainly not about her own sex. It wasn't anything special. She doubted very much that it could make anyone do as she asked.

  When she separated herself from Willa, she switched off the shower and didn't say anything more to her as they stepped out. Still filthy, she decided the best thing for all was to shower properly at home, away from sexy criminals. If she stayed any longer there alone with her, she was afraid she would give in yet again, even though she was still recovering from her first orgasm.

  They dressed in silence, every now and then looking at each other. There was something that needed to be said, though neither of them knew what it was.

  And then Willa spoke, just as Layke started to leave. “Thanks for the heads up about the Feds.”

  “I wasn't trying to give you a heads up.”

  “Doesn't matter. You did me a solid. So I'll do you one. There are worse people out there than my family, detective. We're small time compared to some of the sick bastards in this world. That's who you guys should be looking at, not us.”

  Layke didn't quite know what was happening, or what to make of it. Why was Willa telling her this? And to whom was she referring?

  “You would say that though, wouldn't you? So we leave you alone.”

  “Well, yes, but it doesn't make it less true.”

  “Is this your way of trying to butter me up so you can get into my pants again?” Layke said, a cynical smile on her face.

  Willa chuckled. “Come on, detective, you know I don't have to butter you up in order to do that.”

>   “Go to hell,” Layke said, storming off, more angry than she'd ever been. Angry at the truth of Willa's words.

  Later that evening when she got home from work, the smell of something delicious cooking told her that Dustin had let himself into her apartment. The key she'd given him was for emergency use only; somehow she didn't think that preparing dinner for her was an emergency.

  “Smells good, what is it?” She unclipped her badge, her gun, double-checking that the safety was on, then set them both on the kitchen counter. Dustin's head popped up out of the oven, and with him came a dish that she couldn't identify.

  “I didn't hear you come in. It's homemade cottage pie. I got the recipe from one of the many cookbooks people have bought you over the years, that you never use.” He set the piping hot dish on the counter, took off his oven gloves and gave her a peck on the lips. “You look tired. Busy day?”

  She yawned and stretched. “Not especially. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and I was up early this morning.” Just the mention of the morning sent the memories of her scandalous session at the gym flooding back, making it difficult to look her fiance in the eye.

  “I think you work yourself too hard, Laykey,” he said, kissing her again. He smelled like onions and peppers and other ingredients, none of which made him or his kiss endearing to her. She moved away after the second one so that he wouldn't try it again. Immediately she felt a stab of guilt in doing so. Here she was limiting the kisses from her fiance, the only person who had any right to give them to her, and a mere fourteen hours earlier she'd allowed another person to do that and so much more to her in the shower.

  They ate in front of the television, watching the news and talking about their day.

  “I hope you don't mind that Len invited me along to play golf with some of his friends on Sunday,” Dustin said when dinner was over.

  “Why would I mind? I'm glad you guys hit it off. Len doesn't like a lot of people; he likes you. Still trying to figure out why.” She laughed and he nudged her playfully.

  “You didn't have any plans for us for Sunday?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I can remember. I thought I might go see my mom. My dad's been on my case about going round there.” She let out a heavy sigh, already thinking about how agonizing a visit with her mother would be. She only talked about herself, didn't listen to a word Layke said, and always thought she knew better. The woman was exhausting, only to be taken in small doses a few times a year.

  Layke saw Dustin open his mouth, and she cut in before he could speak: “And yes, I will mention the account to her.”

  “Thank you, my love.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Oh, before I forget, where's your laptop? One of the CEOs at work has a cabin in Big Bear that went on the market a couple of days ago. I wanted you to see it. If you like it he would sell it to us at a discount.” He looked at her enthusiastically and was met with a look of skepticism.

  “I'm not really a cabin sort of girl, Dustin. The last time I went to a cabin I got attacked by a coyote, nearly lost a leg!” She rolled up the right leg of her pants to reveal a long red scar on her calf. A slight exaggeration, and the beast wasn't the actual cause of it. She'd been fleeing from it in the woods when she stumbled and sliced her leg on a piece of barbed wire. She was nineteen and on a retreat with friends from college. The worst part came when one of her pals, a pre-med student, thought she could stitch the wound up herself, drunk, using stuff she found in the cupboards. Years later Layke found out she'd become a very prominent surgeon in L.A.

  “When you see this place, you'll change your mind.” He fetched her laptop from her bedroom, where she said it was, then rejoined her on the couch. “Hot tub, swimming pool, a few acres of land. It's dreamy.” He logged onto the computer while Layke first went to the toilet then to the kitchen to get a couple of beers. She wasn't going to share in his fervor, not if it meant sharing property with him. Because joint-ownership of property constituted a legally binding contract, something not easily broken, and something she couldn't get out of with a text message. This was the same reasoning behind her reluctance to get married.

  When she returned a couple of minutes later, the smile and excitement had vanished from his face. He set the laptop aside slowly, his eyes doleful, cynical when he looked at her.

  “What's wrong?” She handed him the beer which he didn't take, didn't even look at, forcing her to set it down on the coffee table. “Dustin, what is it?”

  “Is there something you need to tell me, Layke?”

  Slam, slam went her heart then, she could hear it in her ear. Does he know about me and Willa? Oh God, he does know! How could he know? Panic set in. She didn't know what to say next, wary of saying too much in case she got it wrong and accidentally outed herself.

  “I don't–I don't know–” she bumbled, the color draining from her face. It would have been a double, no, triple whammy for him to learn first that she had been unfaithful, second that it was with a woman, and third that it was with a di Blasio.

  “Your internet search...” He furrowed his brow, so perplexed that he didn't know what else to say and wanted her to fill in the gaps.

  Layke knew instantly what he'd found. Stupid! Why hadn't she deleted her search history? It was for reasons like this why the button was there.

  “Look, I can explain,” she said in a shaky voice.

  “Are you... I mean, what? Are you gay?”

  “No. God, no,” she said quickly.

  “Then why were you looking up ways to please a woman sexually?” He was such a gentleman that he whispered the word. His face was screwed up in confusion, like he'd spent the last ten years trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle.

  “I just... I was curious, okay?” She knew she was blushing, and also how guilty that made her look. She thought she would die of embarrassment, sort of hoped she would so that she didn't have to explain herself; so that she didn't have to lie.

  “Curious? About sleeping with women?”

  “Yes. No. I don't know, Dustin. I just wanted to know what it would be like. It doesn't mean I actually want to do it.”

  “I know a lot of couples bring another person in sometimes, you know, to spice up their sex lives. But I didn't think you were into all of that.”

  “I'm not.” That wasn't a lie. She had no desire to bring another woman in, especially not Willa. The inclusion of a man, any man, would destroy the fantasy entirely. There was no place for Dustin in any of that. “I'm definitely not.”

  “I mean, is this why you've kept the wedding on hold? Because you're rediscovering yourself?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No! I'm not rediscovering anything. I was curious about something, I looked it up, that was it. Done. Don't you get curious about things?”

  He snorted a bitter laugh. “Not gay sex, Layke, no.”

  “Honestly, you're making this something it's not. I'm not gay, and I don't want to have a threesome.” Was it still a lie if one believed the things they were saying, or wasn't sure of the things they were saying? Because gay was such a strong word, and she hadn't really thought about what it meant in relation to her yet. All she knew was that Willa di Blasio made her body feel terrific, caused her to forget every goal, every promise, every plan she'd ever made and focus only on her release, as though it was the only thing in the world she cared about.

  “It would explain why we haven't been intimate in a while.”

  She let out an agitated growl. “So any woman who isn't constantly interested in sleeping with her boyfriend is automatically gay? Are you kidding me?”

  “Only the ones who start researching ways to please other women.”

  “You really believe I'm gay?”

  “I don't know what to believe anymore, Layke. An hour ago I would have laughed in their face if someone had suggested it. But now I'm not so sure.”

  “Well then I don't want to talk to you right now. You should just leave. Maybe I'll watch some lesbian porn when you're gone.” It was a joke
, she was being sarcastic, but with the mood that she was now in, the idea didn't sound so bad.

  She opted for going to bed early instead once he'd left in a huff. She wasn't really a porn kind of gal, and watching it would only have made her want Willa more.

  ELEVEN

  This time Marley was one of the first inmates to be let into the visiting room. As usual, he wrapped her in a bear hug, sweeping her off the floor, even gave a happy growl as he did so. And when he let go of her, which always seemed to take longer each time she visited, the guards didn't bother trying to scold him for the lengthy contact. They either didn't care, or knew telling him off would do no good.

  He helped himself to some of the snacks on the table, which she'd bought from the vending machine while she waited. She watched him in silence as he gobbled down the chips, and smiled sadly. It wasn't the smile he noticed, but the sadness. He always noticed.

  “I known you your whole life, sis. You think I can't see behind that fake-ass smile?”

  “I've always kind of hated that about you,” she said with a laugh. “That's why I stopped playing cards with you. If we had played for money instead of candy, I would be broke right now!”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I could always read your poker face. I hope you got better at it.”

  “I did. The day you get out, the first thing we do is play a round. When I kick your ass and take all the money you come out with, you're going to wish you were still inside.”

  They laughed.

  “Speaking of getting out, have you heard anything else about your appeal?” she added. But he saw right through that too.

  “My appeal date ain't changing, Willa. Don't try and change the subject now. We're talking about you. So what's up?”

  She exhaled loudly, casting her eyes to the floor. This was one of the reasons why she'd come here, to talk about it, the thing that was plaguing her. One of the things that plagued her. But now that the moment of truth had arrived, she didn't want to open up. He wouldn't judge her, she knew that much. Still, he might feel disappointed.