by Radclyffe
“The needs are still there,” Dane said quietly. “Those still have to be satisfied, especially for me.”
“What makes you think Kyle can’t meet those needs, that she doesn’t want those things, too? Is she only into vanilla sex?”
“Hardly.” Dane laughed, thinking about the ease with which Kyle could take control. “She surprised me the other night.”
“Oh?” Caroline asked expectantly.
“She brought me back to her house, she set the scene, she topped me.” Dane hesitated, still amazed at how good it had felt. “More than once.”
Caroline was uncharacteristically subdued. “You let her do all that?”
Dane nodded silently.
“Well,” Caroline said as she slung her arm around her friend’s shoulders, “she gets my vote. And I suppose that’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“Yep,” Dane replied.
“So, where’s the problem?”
“I’m still not convinced it’s an important issue for her.”
“God, you’re stubborn. The woman shows up at Leathers on her own, because she’s interested. She comes to the discussion groups regularly, because she’s interested. She takes you home, she makes love to you the way no one else can. Besides that, she’s gorgeous. What more do you want?”
“I don’t know.” Trapped on the precipice between disappointment and desire, Dane’s eyes were cloudy. “I keep trying to find out, but I still don’t know.”
*
Kyle dressed with special care, wanting to look just right for her date with Dane. Laughing at both her adolescent anxiety and euphoric anticipation, she pulled on Levi’s only to eventually discard them in favor of her black leather pants. Then she stood naked in front of the closet, unable to decide on a shirt. She dressed, and stripped again. Finally, she settled on a pair of black jeans, a loose white silk shirt, and boots. On the way out the door, she grabbed her leather jacket.
The ride to town was exhilarating. The ocean vistas, always beautiful, seemed to shimmer with hope and promise, much as her heart did at the thought of seeing Dane again. She must have daydreamed half the way to the city, because before she knew it, she was pulling her bike into the familiar line in front of the club. Inside, she was surprised to find the room already wall-to-wall people and the air thick with the expectation of adventure. When she finally maneuvered her way up to the bar, the bartender came over to her immediately and handed her a small snifter of brandy. Kyle stared from the glass to the bartender in surprise, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
“From a friend.”
Nodding, Kyle forced herself to sip slowly and turned unhurriedly for her first real survey of the room. She saw Dane at once, her back against the wall by the jukebox. She was standing much as she had been the first time Kyle had seen her, half in shadow. Her slender figure was encased in soft dark leather, and Kyle caught glimpses of the swath of black around her left wrist as her hands moved slowly in the air while she talked. Kyle’s heart pounded, but she continued her inspection of the other women in the room, although no one else interested her. No one there stirred her the way Dane did. She doubted anyone ever would again.
The drink had been a signal. I know you’re here. Now you know that I am, too.
Kyle was uncertain of the next move, but she understood that it would be Dane’s. And she knew that she should wait. With every second that passed, her excitement grew.
The suspense of waiting was finally broken by a deep voice whispering softly in her ear.
“You look good tonight.”
The tone was cool, the faint wisp of breath on her neck hot. Kyle’s stomach tightened as if the words had been a caress.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Oh, I do.” Dane moved closer, shifting in the crowd so that her slender legs straddled Kyle’s thigh. She pressed her hand against the soft curve of Kyle’s back. “You left something of yours behind the other day.”
Kyle couldn’t read anything in Dane’s blue eyes. “I don’t know wh—”
Dane held up Kyle’s lighter. Before Kyle could speak, Dane slid it into the pocket of her leather vest. “But, since I’m not giving it back...” From her pants pocket she withdrew a gold lighter edged in black, exactly the opposite pattern of the first, and handed it to Kyle.
Smiling, Kyle closed her fingers around the gift. “Thank you.”
Nodding, her lips curved in a ghost of a smile, Dane turned to the bar. “Mick!”
The bartender, hurriedly mixing drinks, looked over at her.
“A bottle of brandy—and another glass.” When the bottle arrived, Dane filled her glass and poured more into Kyle’s. She rocked her hips against Kyle’s thigh. The pressure ratcheted up the arousal that had simmered in her depths all day and that had skyrocketed the instant she’d seen Kyle walk in the door. “We should have a fire to go with this.”
“We don’t need one.” Kyle lifted her glass in a small salute.
Dane smiled then, her gaze softening. “Dance?”
Kyle nodded, following Dane’s lead through the crowd. The music was fast, the bass heavy and relentless, pulsating with a rhythm that reflected the pounding excitement in her flesh. They danced close, only a hot layer of air between them, as—hips thrusting and eyes hungry—they teased one another with the promise of pleasure. When the next song slowed, Kyle slid into Dane’s arms and twined her fingers through the hair above Dane’s collar.
“All week, I’ve thought about your hands.”
Dane’s heart raced. “Tell me.”
“They make my skin burn.” Kyle ran her tongue over the sensitive skin just below Dane’s ear. “They make me weak.” She licked the trickle of sweat that glistened on the edge of Dane’s jaw. “And wet.”
“Do you like that?” Dane’s throat was tight. Kyle had a way of taking the scene from her, but instead of being threatening, that effortless reversal of power was incredibly exciting. She shivered and raked her teeth carefully along the pulsating artery in Kyle’s neck. When Kyle jerked, Dane ran her hands possessively down Kyle’s back and cupped her hips. “Or should I stop?”
“No,” Kyle whispered, rotating her pelvis against Dane’s. “Not until I come.”
Dane stifled a groan; her head was light and her limbs heavy with lust. She tightened her hold and slid her breasts and stomach and thighs sensuously against Kyle. The music faded, and the crowd receded, and when they finally parted on the far edge of desire, they were both shaking.
“It’s time to leave.” Dane entwined her fingers with Kyle’s and led the way back to the bar. With her free hand, she reached for the bottle that still sat, untouched, where she had left it. “We’ll take the brandy.”
“Whatev—”
Kyle’s reply was interrupted by a chilling voice from behind them.
“Very nice little scene, Dane.” Brad stepped into view, her smile unctuous. “Or is Kyle topping now?”
When Dane stiffened, Kyle automatically reached out to touch her arm.
Quickly, Dane pulled away and, her eyes like stone, met Brad’s gaze squarely. “Leave it alone.”
“I don’t think so.” Brad ran a finger down the center of Kyle’s chest, chuckling when Kyle jerked away. “You seem to have something I want.”
“No,” Dane said tightly. “There’s nothing here for you.”
“Have you forgotten?” Smiling still, Brad grasped Dane’s left wrist in a vise-like grip. She twisted, forcing Dane off balance with the strength of her hold. “Do you want me to show you how it really should be done?”
Dane paled.
“Or do you still remember?” Brad’s voice was soothing as she ran her thumb back and forth across the fragile skin, tracing the fine blue veins. “You do, don’t you?”
“No,” Dane murmured, staring at Brad’s fingers, suddenly back in another room, in another time. She shook her head, but the hunger tore at her. “There’s nothing you can do to me now.”
“Brad,” K
yle said tensely, shocked by the lost expression on Dane’s face, “let her go.”
“I can still do it, Dane,” Brad said as if Kyle hadn’t spoken. As if she and Dane were alone in the old nightmare. “Because you still want me to.”
Dane looked from Kyle to Brad, her eyes clouded with anguish. “No, I—”
“I can, and I will,” Brad’s tone was lethally gentle, “if you don’t leave right now.”
“Kyle...” Dane shuddered and pulled her arm from Brad’s suddenly loose grasp. “I’m sorry.”
“What...” Kyle stared dumbly as Dane pivoted quickly and pushed into the crowd. After a second’s hesitation, Kyle bolted after her. When she finally shouldered through the door to the sidewalk, Dane was halfway across the street.
“Dane, wait!”
Without breaking stride, Dane pulled open the door of a gray Camaro and threw herself into the front seat.
“Dane!”
Kyle stared after the fading taillights, stunned. Finally, she unhooked her helmet from her bike and straddled the wide machine. As she rose to kick start the engine, Brad came up beside her.
“You’re not leaving, I hope.”
“What did you do to her?” Kyle raged, her eyes blazing.
Brad raised surprised brows. “You saw—I didn’t do a thing. She always has been a little bit too high-strung.”
“I don’t know what hold you have on her,” Kyle said, struggling hard not to swing a fist into Brad’s face, “or what you’ve done to her. But you’re nothing compared to her.”
Kyle roared away, but Brad’s laughter haunted her long after the sound of her voice had faded into the void.
*
Tortured by memories, Dane careened through the streets. The sensation of Brad’s hand on her arm seared her flesh. She could still see Kyle’s eyes searching her face, confused and questioning. Disappointed.
I was wrong to think I could put any of it behind me, to think that I could change. Wrong to want Kyle—to let her want me. Wrong.
She wanted it to be over; she wanted to bury her pain and expunge her guilt. She slammed the car to a stop, jumped out without even locking the door, and strode across the street in a fury. Breathing hard, she pounded on the door. It opened at once, as if she had been expected.
The woman eyed her appraisingly, her smile cruel. This time she said nothing, but merely stepped aside to allow Dane to rush past.
“Let me have something.” Dane shed her jacket on the bench beside the door.
The woman studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Go upstairs. It’s open.”
Dane climbed the stairs, her mind carefully blank. She would not think of Brad or Kyle or her own broken dreams. She entered the warm room and methodically began to remove her clothes. When the woman returned, she was naked.
“Give me your arm.” The order was brisk, the tone clinical.
Dane hesitated.
“Do it.”
Closing her eyes, Dane offered her left arm. The strap was tight where it wrapped around her biceps. She flinched at the sharp point of pain that pierced her skin. It had been a very long time, but immediately she saw another woman, another time. Brad. Her chest burned before the soothing calm displaced the pain. She began to drift and had to strain to hear the next words.
“Are you ready?”
Mutely Dane nodded and allowed herself to be led again to the scaffold against the wall. She waited calmly in a haze of shifting light, her mind and body rapidly dissociating. When the first blow came, she was aware of the stroke of leather on flesh, but it seemed to be happening to someone else. As the lash cut trails of fire across her bare back, she acknowledged each strike with a slight shudder. Still, the pain blessedly failed to penetrate to her core.
From a distance, she saw Brad’s face, heard her voice...
Where is Kyle?
Desperately, she searched the encroaching darkness, but she couldn’t find Kyle. There—a vise-like grip on her arm. Brad’s hands on her skin, preparing her, owning her. Something hurt, somewhere inside...
It must be Brad. Taking back what is hers. Claiming my soul. Again.
She had tried so hard, and now Brad had won. She hurt.
No! I won’t let her do it again.
This time she would not beg; she would not break.
I won’t ask her to stop—not this time.
Soundlessly, she absorbed the blows. The snap of the cat sounded far away, and she wondered whom Brad was disciplining now. She felt something tremble inside, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt anymore. She was free—no one could touch her anymore. Sighing, she closed her mind to the sound of the lash, grateful at last for the peace.
When the woman finally lowered her aching arm, the room was deathly quiet. As she stared at Dane uncomprehendingly, she realized she had lost herself in the frenzy of her strokes. The red glow of the lights glittered eerily on Dane’s naked back while rivulets of crimson streamed to the floor.
“Dane,” she whispered fearfully, dropping the lash and rushing forward. Quickly she released the restraints, barely managing to catch Dane’s limp body as it slumped to the floor. Her hand came away damp from Dane’s back.
Stomach heaving, she pressed unsteady fingers against Dane’s neck and found a rapid, thready pulse. Weak with relief, she covered the naked woman with a blanket from behind the bar and began to gather the clothes that had been folded and piled neatly in the corner.
Brad taught you well. Too well.
*
Caroline reached across Anne in the dark, groping for the phone. Through sleep-clouded eyes, she peered at the bedside clock. It was four o’clock in the morning.
“Hello?” She coughed, trying to clear the sleep from her throat.
“Caroline?”
The voice was a deep, unfamiliar rumble.
“Yes?”
“A friend of yours needs your help—now. The 2000 block of Durango Drive.”
“What—who?” Caroline bolted upright in bed and shook her head at Anne, who was awake now, too, and staring at her in alarm. “Who is th—”
“She’ll be in a gray Camaro.”
Then the line went dead.
“Anne!” Caroline leapt out of bed. “Get dressed. Dane’s in trouble.”
“What happened?” Anne asked urgently, fumbling for clothes.
“I don’t know.” Caroline searched on the bureau for her wallet and keys. “Someone called. Said she needed help.”
“Are you sure?” Anne pulled on her sweatshirt while racing through the house in her lover’s wake. Once in the Jeep, with Caroline driving at breakneck speed, she asked again, “What did she say?”
“That a friend was in trouble.” Caroline was sick to her stomach. Oh, Dane. Please, no.
“Where are we going?” Anne was frightened. She’d never seen Caroline so panicked.
“Up this block somewhere,” Caroline replied frantically. “Do you see Dane’s car?”
“Over there—on the left!”
Caroline screeched to a halt beside the familiar car.
“Honey, it’s empty.” Anne’s voice quivered.
Caroline sprang from the Jeep, Anne close behind. She yanked on the driver’s door, and it opened to reveal a blanket-covered figure laying motionless on the rear seat, one bare arm dangling over the edge. She would recognize that hand anywhere. So like the rest of Dane—bold, strong, and exquisitely gentle.
“Oh God.” Fighting back a sob, Caroline pushed the front seat forward. “Dane.”
Anne looked over Caroline’s shoulder and cried out in shock. “There’s blood all over the seat.”
“I know.” Surrealistically calm now, Caroline leaned into the rear seat and pulled the blanket away from Dane’s face. She touched her neck and sighed with relief. The pulse was strong. “You need to follow us home in the Jeep, babe. I’ll drive Dane’s car.”
“Shouldn’t we go to a hospital?”
“No,” Caroline said with finality, repl
acing the blanket and straightening up. Her eyes were bleak as she settled into the driver’s seat. “She’d never stay. We’ll call someone in the community to check her at home. I can’t risk her waking up in the ER and just walking out the door.”
And she probably would. Wordlessly, Anne squeezed Caroline’s arm. “Let’s just get her home.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kyle paced her living room, phone in hand. She had called Dane’s number, and the kennel’s, all day. No one answered. The tape at the kennel said someone would return her call shortly, but no one ever did. She looked at the clock. 9:00 p.m.
Where the hell is she? Or is she just not answering the phone? God damn her! She’s not getting off this easy. She can’t just ride away and expect me to let her go. Not anymore.
She tossed the phone on the chair, the same one they’d made love in just a week before, and strode angrily into the kitchen. She snatched her jacket off the hook and slammed the door. Once on the Harley, she gunned the engine and roared down the drive, spewing gravel in her wake. The drive to the city passed in a haze of anger and concern. She wanted to think that Dane was just hiding, nursing a bad temper. But in her heart, she didn’t believe it could be that simple. Dane’s suffering had been too clear.
She’s hurting and she doesn’t want anyone—me—to know. But why?
She looked for Dane’s car along the crowded street in front of Leathers. Once inside, she searched the room feverishly, but Dane was not there. She hadn’t really expected her to be, but she’d hoped.
“Beer,” she snapped to the bartender and pulled a cigarette from her jacket pocket. She fumbled her lighter from the pocket of her jeans and smiled grimly at the shiny new gold surface. Souvenir. Of what, for Christ’s sake? What is it we really have if she can disappear like this in a heartbeat?
She drew in the smoke, coughed, and crushed out the cigarette. Another scan of the room proved as fruitless as the first had been. She recognized no one. After ordering another beer she didn’t want and didn’t drink, she was ready to leave. Dane was gone, and she was close to convincing herself that she didn’t care when a familiar-looking woman approached.
