by Heidi Lowe
THIRTEEN
Layke wasn't a light sleeper by anyone's standards, but she would have had to have been deaf or unconscious to sleep through the sound that woke her that night. Oiling the hinges on the doors in her apartment had been on her to-do list for the past two years; every time Dustin offered to do them she insisted she would do it herself, and had never gotten around to it. She'd come to think of it as a security measure, particularly the door to her bedroom, which creaked like it belonged in a haunted house. So when the slow, steady creaking dragged her from her slumber, disoriented and almost blind in the dark room, only able to see the outline of a figure standing in her doorway, she silently thanked her laziness for not oiling the doors.
She heard a whispered profanity in the blackness as she reached for the gun in her bedside table drawer, the blood rushing to her head, her breathing staggered and her heart pounding. There was a click, the sound of the safety coming off. She couldn't see her hand or the gun shaking, though she could feel it.
“Take one step closer and I pull the trigger.” Her voice didn't sound like her own, shaky and shrouded in fear. The gun felt heavier than usual; she herself felt heavier.
“Don't,” she heard in the darkness.
That voice, she recognized it. She reached over and switched on her lamp, then let out the biggest sigh of her life when light filled the room and she saw her intruder – Willa, hands raised in the air, lock-picking toolkit in one hand.
“Jesus Christ!” Layke screamed, lowering her gun, trying to catch her breath, hand on her chest, fear still aching her stomach.
Willa gave her a sheepish, one-sided smile. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here? I could have shot you.”
“I'm glad you didn't. That would have been a little uncomfortable.”
“You think this is funny?” Layke found it far from funny, and hated that her sexy intruder didn't share her sentiment. “You would be dead right now, you fucking idiot!”
Willa's smile faded upon seeing Layke's less than impressed expression. She drifted to the bed, crawled across it to Layke, who hung back, looking vexed while still clutching the gun beside her. “All right, I'm sorry,” she said sincerely, holding Layke's gaze.
“You broke into my home. You crossed the line.”
“Well you didn't answer any of my calls. I had to do something drastic.”
“When someone doesn't answer your calls it means they don't want to talk to you.”
“Okay, so we don't talk.” And with that she leaned over and pressed her lips to Layke's. At first she was met with resistance, Layke keeping her lips tightly closed, but soon they were kissing.
Layke pushed her back with only slight force, gave her a serious look. “Willa, you have to know that I'm not okay with this. You can't break into my apartment. You need to understand that.”
“I know.” She kissed her again. “I know. But I had to see you tonight, and I didn't know another way to achieve that.”
A right-thinking person would have been appalled by this remorseless intrusion, this invasion, and even the soppy, self-serving confession of necessity. But Layke found she was never right-thinking in Willa's presence. When she looked into those unusual hazel-green eyes she didn't see malice, she saw something genuine, honest. She wanted to stay mad at her but couldn't conjure up enough fury.
She put the safety back on the gun and returned it to the drawer, threat now gone. “I must be insane.” She said it to herself mostly, rolling her eyes at how ridiculous this whole thing was.
“Everyone's a little insane.” Willa grinned. She took in Layke's appearance – the tousled ginger locks and the overgrown gray Disney T-shirt of an ever-drowsy Eeyore. “Nice T-shirt.”
“I wasn't expecting company,” Layke said, cheeks lighting up.
Willa's eyes drifted further down, past the underwear. “You sleep with your socks on?” She chuckled.
“My feet get cold sometimes,” Layke replied, flustered and defensive. “Look, if you broke into my home just to mock me–”
Willa cut her off with a kiss.
“I'm not mocking you. I find you adorable. Isn't that obvious by now?”
Layke stared at her and swallowed hard, noting the ravenous look in her eye, sensing what was coming. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered about violently. She thought she would burst from the excitement. Now they were alone, in the comfort of her home, with nothing to stop them from getting as wild as their bodies permitted. A dream becoming a reality. She felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.
“As much as I love the T-shirt, it's got to go,” Willa said, before proceeding to pull it off. It went easily, revealing perfectly taut, pale breasts, whose nipples were already hard. She laid Layke down.
“You better make it good, make it count. Because when you're finished, I'm having you done for breaking and entering,” Layke breathed.
Willa only grinned cheekily. “Breaking and entering what exactly?” she said as she slid Layke's panties off. She received no reply.
She peppered kisses along Layke's midriff, leaving a wet trail as she worked her way up to her breasts. Beneath her, Layke's stomach tensed in anticipation. And when Willa took one breast into her mouth and suckled on her nipple, a quiet murmur escaped Layke's lips. The suction was strong, as though Willa never intended to give it up again. Until finally she moved onto the other breast, giving the teat the same treatment, letting her tongue lash against it, each lash producing a moan from Layke.
Willa tugged off her own top with Layke's eager help, and unfastened her bra. Layke's breath caught in her throat when she beheld her breasts. The last time she'd seen them was in the shower, with water cascading down them. She hadn't gotten a good look then; now she took them in, admiring their shape, their size. Her hand didn't seek permission from its owner before it reached out and caressed each breast in turn, gliding over the nipples so that they hardened beneath it.
Willa leaned down and kissed her, pressing her weight and chest to Layke's, while Layke held her head in her hands. They kissed like there was no tomorrow, only today, only the here and the now. Layke felt her sex grow moist with the intermittent snatches of friction she got from Willa being between her legs.
But Willa was a woman on a mission. Layke had sensed that the moment she saw her by the bedroom door, and knew it was only a matter of time before her tongue reached its ultimate destination. When Willa tore away from the kiss and made a hasty journey down her body in kisses, inching closer and closer to her sex, Layke felt mounting anticipation.
“I've been dying to do this ever since the first time I tasted you,” Willa whispered, now between her thighs, Layke's legs parted and flopped to either side.
“So what took you so long?”
Willa gave a little laugh. “The fear that I would get addicted and never be able to stop. I have a very addictive personality.”
Layke wanted to give a witty comeback, but she didn't have time. Before she knew it, she felt Willa's tongue inside her. She didn't know what to expect; a part of her dreaded it. She had never been a fan of oral, either giving or receiving. The handful of boyfriends she'd had had all but put her off the whole messy business. Her dread didn't last very long, however.
It started off slow, gentle, as though Willa was finding her way around her sex, getting to know the place. Her tongue explored every nook and cranny, lapping up the flowing sap, sparing none of it, every now and then teasing her bean with a brief touch. That touch, however slight, was enough to keep Layke on her toes, keep her on edge. And then Willa really let loose on her. No more playing nice. Her tongue fluttered across the stiffened nub, the touches gradually growing firmer, faster. She made circles and crosses against it with her stiff, wet muscle, alternating between the two motions without warning. Layke's moans echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls, the back of her head kneading into the pillow. This wasn't how it was before, this was wonderful. She couldn't have kept quiet if she'd wanted to.
/> “Oh, God,” she groaned, and threw in a couple of swearwords. “That feels so good.” So good, in fact, she wanted to cry! None of the online guides had told her she could feel this good, that her nub could be stimulated this way.
Willa kept on and didn't seem to tire, sucking and licking and switching it up whenever she felt like it, whenever she thought Layke could handle it.
Then she stopped, without warning. Layke could barely raise her head to see what the hold up was. She'd been so close.
Willa didn't speak, only held her gaze as she tugged off the remaining items of her own clothing – her jeans and her panties. Then she set Layke in the missionary position.
“Do you know what tribbing is?” she asked.
Layke nodded, swallowed. She'd read all about it. Friction at its finest. She gulped again.
“It's really intimate. It's about the most intimate thing two women can do together. At least I think so. Do you want me to do it to you?”
Layke didn't even have to think about it. Ever since finding out about it weeks ago she'd been desperate to try it. She nodded eagerly.
“I should warn you, you might feel a little uncomfortable afterward.”
“I don't care.”
Willa smiled. “Well, okay then.” With that, she pressed herself against Layke, their sexes meeting in a wet encounter. She kissed the trepidation and any remaining uncertainty away from Layke's face, and slowly, gently began to glide. It didn't take long before two different moans filled the room. Layke clutched onto Willa's ass with both hands, doing her best to steer her, though Willa didn't need steering. She seemed to know instinctively exactly which spot and speed to hit in order to produce maximum pleasure. Layke wanted to hold eye contact, but the act was far too intense for her; and as Willa rode her to a rolling climax, her eyes were firmly shut. She felt Willa expire seconds later against her sex, her body trembling.
Layke didn't have any choice in which spoon she became; once the sex was over, she sort of naturally slipped into position as the little spoon to Willa's big spoon, with no complaints. Truthfully, she hadn't expected anything to follow the sex, especially not this. When someone breaks into your home, the night doesn't usually end with a cuddle.
Willa's arm was draped over her, her fingers threaded between Layke's, her naked body slotted perfectly to Layke's back. A calm silence settled between them for several minutes as they allowed their bodies to come down from their highs. They could hear the gentle lull of their breathing.
Then, “What are you thinking about?” Willa breathed, kissing her shoulder and letting her lips linger there.
“What makes you think I'm thinking about anything?” Layke asked playfully.
“Everyone is always thinking about something.”
“I'm just lying here.”
“I bet you're thinking this is crazy, right?”
Layke giggled tiredly. “Well now I am. And it is.”
“You know, this is my favorite part.”
Layke twisted around a little to look at her, incredulous. “Cuddling? Are you serious?”
“Yup. It's the thing I look forward to most.”
“Not the sex?” The amusement in Layke's voice was rising.
“Don't get me wrong, I love the sex, but a good cuddle always trumps that.”
“Get out of here!” Layke chuckled.
“What's so hard to believe?” Willa asked, taking mock offense.
“The big, bad criminal prefers cuddling to doing the nasty?” She couldn't contain her laughter, and her body shook with the effort.
“You're seriously laughing at me right now?” Willa started tickling her then, sending her into a laughing frenzy. “Don't you laugh at me.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Layke screamed through her hysterical giggles, as Willa straddled her. The only thing that stopped her was feeling Willa's lips on hers, forcing her into a kiss.
“That's what I get for trying to be sensitive,” Willa said.
Layke smiled up at her warmly. “I like this you. She makes this whole thing seem a little less crazy.”
“We're still the same people, Layke. No matter how good it feels when we make love to each other.”
Several things about the sentence threw Layke. She noted the hint of sadness in Willa's tone when she said it. But the most startling thing was the use of the term making love.
“Was that what we were doing, making love?” she asked.
“What did you think we were doing, playing tennis?”
“No, it's just... forget it.”
Willa regarded her carefully, and something became clear. She smiled. “I hate to break it to you but that's exactly what it was. Indiscriminate, mindless screwing just isn't my thing.”
Inside, Layke breathed a heavy sigh of relief, realizing for the first time that this, what they were doing, meant a lot more to her than she'd first realized. And thankfully it appeared it did to Willa also. She hadn't made love to anyone in years, not really. Because whatever she and Dustin had been doing for seven years, it was far from love-making. What she'd just done with Willa gave a whole new meaning to the term.
“I know this is wrong. So wrong. The wrongest thing I've ever done. Yet–”
“Yet it feels like the rightest thing you've ever done, huh?” Willa broke in.
Layke nodded. “It's a sackable offense, cavorting with criminals I'm investigating. I know this, but I keep doing this stupid thing.”
Willa's eyebrow furrowed. She looked disgruntled. “Maybe if you stopped calling me a criminal it might not sound so bad.”
“But you are one. And I'm a cop. You said it yourself, we're still the same people.”
Willa growled in frustration. “Can't you just stop being a cop for one minute and just enjoy this beautiful thing that we did?”
Layke wanted to, she really did, but it was as though a compulsion came over her to point out how absurd their affair was. It was as if she couldn't allow herself to enjoy something so unchaste, and thus had to punish herself, and Willa, with the truth of the reality.
“I'll stop being a cop when you stop being a criminal. It's not something either of us can switch off; it's in our blood.”
Willa climbed off her. “You seemed to switch it off pretty well when I was fucking you!” she spat. “I didn't see any of the cop when I was making you cum. Hypocrite!”
Layke noticed how only a minute later their tryst had been reduced to mere fucking. She didn't like it, but she'd brought it on herself. She never did know when to keep her mouth shut.
Before she knew it Willa was aggressively dragging on her clothes, like the one-night stand being tossed out after she'd served her purpose. Which wasn't the case at all, but communicating that to her now, after insulting her, would be tricky.
“I didn't mean to upset you.”
“Don't flatter yourself. I'm not upset,” Willa scoffed. “I got what I wanted – a quick, easy lay – and now I'm leaving.”
“You're trying to be nasty to me now,” Layke said, pulling on her T-shirt, looking hurt. “I'm just trying to figure this all out, I wasn't trying to–”
“Whatever, detective. You'll have plenty of time to figure things out when I'm gone.”
Layke, minus her panties, rushed after her as she stormed to the front door. There were only a few seconds to conjure up something suitable to say to stop her from leaving, and she was coming up blank. Willa shot her a scathing look then left.
The apartment seemed bigger and emptier without her there somehow, despite her presence being brief. And colder. Layke climbed back into bed, clutching the sheet to her; it made a terrible substitute to the warmth of Willa's arms. She already missed them around her.
FOURTEEN
Afternoons were, surprisingly, some of Yum Yums' busiest times. A roaring trade, with many men strolling in on their lunch breaks for a quick brewsky and a sandwich, the inclusion of which had been Willa's idea. Having seen the lunchtime run, she'd seized an opportunity, introd
uced snacks, and thus the Yum Yums Meal Deal was formed. As it turned out, men liked their breasts with a side order of sandwiches. It brought in an extra six grand a month, which was nothing to sneeze at; every little helped, after all.
It was one of those busy afternoons today, and Willa sat watching a couple of their top girls work their magic on the poles, perfectly shaped breasts bobbing and bouncing and making the mouths of the hungry men in the audience water. She knew most of the breasts well, though one particular pair she knew just a little better than most. They really were great breasts; it was no small wonder that the audience's raucous cheers reached fever pitch that afternoon as Miss Honey Moon flaunted her most prized possessions for all to see and behold.
As soon as the finale was over, Willa rushed through the back after her.
“How long are you going to continue ignoring me for?” She stopped her in the corridor leading to the changing rooms.
Olivia sighed, rolling her eyes set around huge, fake eyelashes. “I can't ignore you, Willa, you're my boss, remember?”
“That still hasn't stopped you. We should talk about what happened.” She took her by the hand and led the unwilling woman to an unoccupied private room, where most private conversations usually took place in the club.
“What's there to talk about? We're not together, you can do whatever you want. I don't have the right to be pissed off with you.”
“You can be pissed off, Olivia. I just want you to talk to me again,” Willa said in a somewhat pleading tone. Whatever they were or weren't, Olivia was the closest thing to a best friend she had, and not being able to speak to her, receiving radio silence when she called her, and filthy looks when she saw her, unsettled Willa.
Olivia's shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry. I just need time, all right.”
“Time for what?”
“To get over you!” Olivia screamed. “Goddamn it, Willa. You have no idea, do you?” She gave a bitter laugh.
Willa stared at her blankly. “No idea about what?”
“About how I feel about you. How I've always felt.”
