shadowland

by Radclyffe

  “You bitch,” she seethed as she placed her hand on Brad’s abdomen, her own stomach tightening as she felt the board-like muscles convulse. “You’re going to let her make you come.”

  “Yeah.” Brad tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and tightened her grip on Nancy’s waist. Her legs quivered uncontrollably, and she fought not to moan out her pleasure as the rhythmic motion of the woman’s mouth on the phallus was transmitted to her clitoris. “Yeah.”

  For the first time in her life, Nancy was not only stone-cold furious but also insanely jealous. Brad had beaten her in an arena where she had always reigned victorious, and she vowed that it would not happen again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Darkness cloaked them as Kyle pushed Nancy’s sleek Ferrari through the tight turns toward home. She was in no mood for conversation, and, gratefully, Nancy was strangely—and uncharacteristically—subdued. Keeping her eyes fixed on the road, Kyle grappled with the roller-coaster events of the evening. So much had happened, physically and emotionally, and then—abruptly—it had simply ended. When the two couples had returned coincidentally to the table after their separate excursions, the conversation had consisted of nothing more than terse, formal goodbyes. Dane had left abruptly, pointedly ignoring Brad completely and murmuring only “I’ll see you” to Kyle. As Kyle had watched Dane walk away, she’d been left wondering when, if ever, that might be.

  Still no phone number. No mention of next time.

  Brad had then chauffeured Nancy and Kyle back to Leathers, the short trip passing in silence. Just before Nancy climbed from the car, Brad had whispered something to her that Kyle hadn’t been able to hear.

  “Cigarette?” Nancy asked softly, jolting Kyle from her reverie.

  Kyle reached automatically into her jacket pocket and fingered two from the pack. She handed them across to Nancy, who lit both from the lighter in the dash.

  “I’m trying to quit,” Kyle said after a moment. “You starting again is not helping.”

  “Sorry.” Nancy blew out a thin stream of swirling smoke and sighed. “Looks like I fell off all the wagons tonight.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just feeling a little weird.” For some reason, she didn’t want to recount the details of her experience with Brad. She sensed that Kyle would not approve. It had never bothered her before when Kyle was critical over her dalliances with men, perhaps because those interludes hadn’t meant anything to her. She could brush away Kyle’s censure as easily as she could banish the memory of the empty couplings. And although she didn’t completely understand what had happened with Brad, of one thing she was certain. It mattered. “How was your night?”

  “I’ll tell you about it some other time.” Kyle gripped the wheel more tightly, welcoming the aching tension in her fingers. The pain helped dampen her emotional turmoil. Her reactions to the night, and to her experience with Dane, were still too raw and painful to relive. She needed to put some distance—if not emotionally, at least temporally—between herself and those few intense minutes before she shared them, even with Nancy.

  Appreciating Kyle’s deep sense of privacy, Nancy didn’t push, but she wanted to talk nevertheless. If she talked, she wouldn’t have to keep thinking about Brad. She wouldn’t have to feel angry and excited and fascinated and disturbingly unsatisfied. She wouldn’t have to acknowledge the insistent thrum of arousal deep inside that was making her just a little crazy. And most especially, she wouldn’t have to think about that bastard Brad’s parting words.

  “Later—when you make yourself come—you’ll imagine me touching you. Just when you’re about to scream, you’ll see my face.”

  Nancy shifted irritably in her seat. “Bitch.”

  “What?” Kyle glanced at her, frowning.

  “Nothing.” Nancy took a long breath and gathered the reins of her control. I am not going to be played by an arrogant asshole like Brad, no matter how fucking sexy she is. “God, what a place. Is it always like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Everyone—everything—was so intense. So exposed.” She shivered, uncomfortable with the memory of how close to the surface her needs had surged, nearly overwhelming her. That kind of loss of control just didn’t happen to her. “It was as if I didn’t have a private thought—or feeling.”

  “I’ve never been anywhere like that before. Most of the time—in the usual clubs and the bars—it’s just a whole lot of strangers trying to find one face, one soul, in the crowd to connect with. You know that picture.” Kyle’s voice was hollow, her expression bleak. “That place tonight...that whole scene is designed to strip away the trappings of self. The people—who we are or who we care about—don’t count. It’s just about the sensations.”

  “What the hell happened to you in there?” Nancy asked sharply, a little frightened by the bitterness in her friend’s voice. She had come to count on Kyle’s optimism, on her core belief in the possibility of romantic passion. She needed Kyle’s refusal to settle for less just so she herself could hold on to a kernel of hope.

  “I found out that I was just another person who didn’t count.”

  “Are you talking about Dane?” Nancy laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. I saw the way she looked at you.”

  “And all of a sudden you’re an expert on what people are feeling?” Kyle’s anger boiled over. “Since when? People are just bodies to you anyhow, right? You said it yourself—men or women, it doesn’t matter. It’s just another experience.”

  “Not fair, Kyle.” Nancy refused to lash out, even in defense, when Kyle was so obviously hurting. “You’re not just another body.” She hesitated. “Neither is poor Roger. Believe it or not, I try not to hurt him with my...extracurricular activities.”

  “Fuck.” Kyle turned into Nancy’s driveway and braked sharply. Hands still wrapped around the wheel, she stared straight ahead, forcing herself to step back from the pain. “I’m sorry, Nance. It’s not your fault. I wanted someone to be pissed at, and you were just handy.”

  “Uh-huh. I know.” Nancy reached over and stroked the top of Kyle’s hand. “Let’s go inside, make a fire, and commiserate.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Wearily, she followed Nancy into the living room with its huge windows and million-dollar ocean view.

  “The fire’s set to go. Just strike a match and get comfortable on the sofa,” Nancy instructed. “I’ll find us something to nibble on. You want wine?”

  “Maybe a little.” As directed, Kyle lit the tinder beneath the carefully stacked split logs, and in a minute, the fire was blazing. Despite the heat that quickly suffused the room, she shivered. The chill, she feared, was somewhere inside herself, and she wondered if the cold would turn her heart to stone. Tears, unnoticed, danced on her lashes and sparkled brightly in the light from the fire. She closed her eyes and drifted, lost and uncertain, until she felt a finger tracing the single damp trail down her cheek.

  “Tell me, sweetheart. What is it?” Nancy murmured gently, sitting softly on the opposite end of the sofa.

  “I can’t.” Kyle opened her eyes and shrugged helplessly. She took the glass Nancy offered but set it down on the floor by her feet, the wine untasted. “I’m not sure what I feel right now.”

  “Tell me what happened, then.” When Kyle remained silent, Nancy stated the obvious. “Something happened between you and Dane.”

  Kyle laughed shortly. “Yeah.”

  “Something you didn’t expect...something you didn’t like...something you didn’t know how to han—”

  “Okay, okay. Jesus, you never let up.” Kyle dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “After you and Brad left to go exploring, we went upstairs to one of the private rooms. We made love—no, that’s not right. We had sex.”

  She stopped, tasting bitter disappointment as the irony of her words struck her. The first time she and Dane had touched, they’d been strangers, but their physical connection had been more than sex. Hours ago, it had been as far from making love as
anything she could imagine.

  “I’ve always wondered about that distinction.” Nancy spoke lightly, sensing Kyle’s struggle and hoping to help.

  “You know there’s a difference.” Kyle turned her head, catching Nancy’s gaze. “Even though you like to pretend there isn’t.”

  “Well, maybe the first couple of times. Then, after the romance dies, it’s just two bodies looking for a little satisfaction.”

  “I don’t have anything against two people having sex for no other reason than mutual pleasure.” Kyle grimaced. “Obviously. But when you’re with someone you...care about, being together should mean more than that.”

  “I know. That’s your problem.” Nancy sighed. You expect the honeymoon to last forever. And you’re heartbroken when it doesn’t. Nancy lifted Kyle’s jacket from the nearby coffee table and found the cigarettes in the inside pocket. She helped herself and settled back, waiting for Kyle to do the honors. “So tell me—what was wrong with what went on with you two?”

  Frowning, Kyle searched her pants pockets and then the jacket for her lighter. It was one of those little possessions she thought of as a talisman, and she carried it even when she wasn’t smoking. “Damn. I lost my lighter.”

  “Never mind. I’ve got a light.” Nancy walked over and used one of the wooden fireplace matches, then returned to the sofa. “Come on. What happened? Did she hurt you?”

  Finally, Kyle capitulated to the relentless questions. But in remembering, the images, the feelings, returned with aching clarity.

  Dane moved unerringly through the crowd, her fingers laced through Kyle’s. At the far corner of the room, a narrow opening led to a steep flight of stairs that seemed to climb into a void, it was so dark above them. Dane started up, and Kyle followed unhesitatingly.

  At the top of the stairs, a dim light flickering from beneath a shaded fixture provided just enough light for Kyle to make out a series of doors on either side of a long hallway. Several stood open, but most were closed. Beneath her feet the floor vibrated with the pulse of the music and the many bodies below. Here, though, the air was still and close. A light sweat broke out on her skin, but she didn’t think it was from the heat. She heard a soft moan emanate from behind one of the closed doors as they passed, and her pulse quickened.

  The room they entered was even darker than the hallway, lit only by a weak red bulb set high up in one corner. A narrow metal-framed cot with a bare mattress was pushed against one wall. A wooden chair sat beside it. As her eyes adjusted to the murky light, Kyle noticed stout eye-hooks screwed into the wall at various heights. Otherwise, the room was empty and bare of adornment.

  Uncertain as to what to do, Kyle remained motionless as Dane closed and locked the door. She waited for some sign, some word to connect her to the silent stranger. She gave a small jerk of surprise when Dane carefully pulled her T-shirt from the waistband of her jeans.

  “Dane—”

  Dane pressed her fingers to Kyle’s mouth, stilling the words before lifting the shirt all the way off.

  Her sudden nudity left Kyle feeling vulnerable, and, seeking some comfort in connection, she reached for Dane. But Dane avoided her touch and moved quickly behind her. Kyle stiffened when both arms were drawn back and handcuffs closed firmly on each wrist. Then, soft fabric was drawn over her eyes and she was left in total darkness.

  Her breathing escalated with a combination of apprehension and excitement. She trusted Dane—yearned for her touch—but the restraints and the effects of the silent blackness left her disoriented. She felt isolated and disconnected, and the sense of being so alone was unexpectedly painful. Where are you? Why won’t you let me touch you, hear your voice?

  She moaned quietly when soft lips traced the curve of her neck and then gentle hands cupped her breasts. As minutes passed, the fingers methodically teasing her nipples became the only connection to the woman behind her. Her entire focus settled into those small throbbing points of pleasure, because only there could she forge some fragile link to something outside herself. But even as she struggled to feel Dane, her awareness of anything beyond her own need was slowly eclipsed by the effect of the insistent caresses. She lost track of time, lost track of who was touching her, until she knew only the exquisite excitement that spread from her breasts through her belly and deep into her core. She’d been on the verge of coming more than once that evening, and now she surged rapidly to the edge of release.

  She moaned, hips thrusting against empty air, desperate for a touch—any touch—to send her over.

  “Please. Please.”

  A warm hand slid down her bare abdomen and a sharp tug at her waist opened her jeans. When fingers dipped inside, she whimpered and fought for breath. When the contact stopped short of where she so desperately needed to be stroked, she begged.

  “Touch me. Touch me. Please.”

  Abruptly, Kyle sat forward and rubbed her palms angrily across her face. “She restrained me, then she made me come. She took her time and after a while, I didn’t care that I couldn’t see or touch her. I just wanted her to keep touching me. I wanted her to be everywhere—inside of me, all over me. I didn’t care who she was, I only wanted it to go on.”

  “Jesus,” Nancy muttered, draining her glass, “that sounds good to me.”

  “God, you’re an unsympathetic SOB.” Kyle wanted to be angry, but it was difficult. Somewhere in the midst of the memory, she had felt Dane’s tenderness.

  “Was she rough with you?”

  “Not physically, no.”

  “Then what—”

  “She made it so she could have been anyone.” Kyle’s voice broke. “I could have been anyone. She made it mean nothing.”

  Nancy’s throat tightened. I could have been anyone. She made it mean nothing. The words sparked sudden, painful understanding. Yes, I know how that feels, because that’s Brad’s game. When Nancy spoke, her voice was devoid of her usual levity. “For someone so smart, I think you have everything backwards.”

  Kyle turned her head and eyed her friend irritably. “What does that mean?”

  “Uh—forgive me for being indelicate, but wasn’t Brad getting pretty familiar under the table tonight?”

  “Fuck.” Kyle blushed. “You saw that?”

  “Well, the entertainment on stage was pretty riveting, but when a hot woman like Brad is doing my best friend—”

  “Shit. Okay.” Kyle held up a hand to halt further description. “That place got to me.”

  You’re not alone there. Nancy’s laugh was hollow. “That seems to be the intention.”

  Kyle sighed. “I should have stopped her—wanted to stop her...sort of—but I was so caught up, I just didn’t.”

  “Kyle, sweetie—I’m not criticizing. You’re both adults. That’s not where I was going.” Nancy slid closer, wrapped her arm around Kyle’s waist, and rested her cheek against Kyle’s shoulder. “Do you love Brad?”

  “Christ, no.”

  “Like her?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “But, even so,” Nancy gave her a squeeze, “she had you about to co—”

  “Nance,” Kyle interrupted threateningly.

  Nancy grinned. “Well—that was impersonal sex.”

  “Yes.” Kyle reached down, recovered her glass, and sipped the warm wine. “Your point is?”

  Tilting her head, Nancy regarded Kyle with unusual seriousness. “You really want to know?”

  Kyle nodded.

  “You...like Dane, right? Have a thing for her.”

  Again, Kyle nodded.

  “What you told me about you and Dane tonight—it’s what you’ve been looking for. You’ve been wanting someone to make love to you that way.”

  “What do you mean?” Kyle asked warily.

  “You went to that club in the first place because you were interested in exploring power, or S/M, or whatever it is you all call it. You wanted to relate to someone differently—more basically, more physically, more real-ly. Is real-ly a word?”
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  “I guess so,” Kyle said in frustration. “So?”

  “So, that’s what you got. That’s what Dane did. She dominated you. She defined you for however long you two did what you did. She said, ‘You are this and I am something else—I am the controller, the one responsible for your pleasure, the’—what do you guys call that?”

  “The top.”

  “Yeah—that sounds right. The top. You told her somehow to be that, and she was. Your call. She did that for you.” Nancy reached for another cigarette and flourished it dramatically. “But you let that happen with her—not Brad, not some stranger—her, because of who she is to you. Because she means something to you.”

  Kyle looked at her. “How did you know all that?”

  “I read a lot. Now get me a light.”

  “I can’t stand you.”

  “Mm-hmm. I know.”

  Kyle stood to retrieve the fireplace matches. You let that happen with her...because she means something to you.

  “Feel better?” Nancy asked as she accepted the light.

  “Some.” Kyle paced. “It bothers me that she won’t let me touch her.”

  Nancy’s brows rose. “She doesn’t come?”

  “Ah...that’s not what I said.” Even through the cloud of her own climax, she’d heard the slide of a zipper, the harsh sobbing breath, the muted groan.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me?” Nancy’s heart picked up speed as a panoply of images from Encounters came flooding back. The restless unease in the pit of her stomach resurged as well.

  “No.” Kyle rested a hip on the arm of the couch.

  “Maybe she needs more time.” Nancy’s voice was surprisingly gentle.