Winds of Fortune

by Radclyffe

  “Believe it or not,” Nita said, stopping by Deo’s side, “those stitches in your abdomen are there for a reason. That incision goes all the way through, and I prefer keeping everything that’s inside exactly where it belongs.”

  Deo slung one arm over a rung of the ladder and leaned it against her hip. Then she kissed Nita. “It’s only five o’clock. You’re early.”

  “You’re ignoring me.”

  “Impossible.” Deo checked the yard. It was empty. Then she wrapped an arm around Nita’s waist and pulled her close. This kiss lasted longer, a lot longer. “Missed you.”

  Nita rested her cheek on Deo’s shoulder. She smelled good—like hard work and promises. She felt strong. Her heart beat rhythmically against Nita’s breast, steady and sure.

  “I missed you too. Things were quiet so I decided to sneak out. The service has me on beeper call.”

  “Does that mean you’re mine for the night?”

  Deo’s voice was low and husky, and the weight of it settled in the pit of Nita’s stomach and spread like warm whiskey. They hadn’t spent the night together since the hurricane.

  Once KT had cleared her to do light labor, Deo and her crews had worked from well before sun-up until far after sundown clearing debris from the streets, making temporary repairs on roofs that needed to be replaced, boarding up broken windows, and pumping out flooded basements. Fortunately, Nita’s house had sustained little more than cosmetic damage, and Nita had insisted that Deo leave it until others with more urgent needs were taken care of.

  When Deo had called to say she was at the house and invited Nita to meet her for dinner, Nita couldn’t wait to see her. She replayed Deo’s question. “Does that mean you’re mine for the night?”

  Nita turned the concept around in her mind. Mine. It could mean so many things. She had been Sylvia’s—heart, body, and soul for almost a decade—and in all that time, she realized now, she’d been little more than the object of Sylvia’s lust. Deo had offered her more, given her more, in the time they’d been together than she’d ever thought to dream of. With Deo, she felt cherished and desired and…loved.

  “Do we need to carry this somewhere?” Nita asked, reaching for the ladder.

  “Just help me lean it against the fence. Joey or one of the other guys will get it later.”

  When they’d stowed it away, Deo took Nita’s hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Still thinking about how different—how right—she felt with Deo, Nita followed her through the house to the second floor and finally up the narrow winding staircase to the widow’s walk.

  “Oh,” Nita exclaimed. “The new railing looks great. When did you do this?”

  “This afternoon.”

  Nita frowned. “You weren’t supposed to work.”

  “I only supervised.” Deo smiled. “You like it?”

  “I love it.” Nita crossed the narrow walkway, braced her hands on the railing, and lifted her face to the breeze. The air smelled crisp and clean, and she breathed deeply. When Deo came to stand beside her, Nita slid her arm around her waist and leaned against her. Watching a fishing boat round the bend at Long Point and churn into the harbor, Nita thought about the generations of women who had stood in this place before her.

  “I read somewhere that the wife of the original sea captain who built this house used to light a lantern up here when she saw his ship come home, and all the women in town would know that their husbands were returning.”

  “Must have been lonely, watching and waiting and wondering if they’d come back,” Deo remarked.

  “Yes.” Nita shifted and wrapped both arms around Deo’s waist, drawing her closer. She kissed her and tasted salt on her lips. “Is your family still planning the barbecue that got rained out?”

  “Yes. Are you still going to be my date?”

  “I’d like that.” Nita hesitated, then asked gently, “Are you ever going to tell them what really happened with Gabe that night?”

  “Pia’s been after me to.” Deo looked out to sea. “But I don’t think so.”

  Nita wasn’t sure she could keep the secret in the face of Deo’s pain, but she would try if she had to. But first, she would try something else. “I think he might want you to. If the situations were reversed, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Deo said softly, still turned away.

  “Why did you tell me?”

  Deo faced her. “I knew from the beginning the one thing we had to have was trust. I would never lie to you.”

  “Thank you.” Nita threaded her fingers through Deo’s. “Whatever you decide is all right with me. I just hate to see you hurting.”

  “You changed all that,” Deo confessed. “You make me happy.”

  “A few minutes ago, out in the yard, you asked me if I’d be yours for the night.”

  Deo’s eyes grew questioning. “Do you have other plans?”

  “No,” Nita said softly. “But I realized there’s something I needed to tell you.”

  “Look, if you think we’re moving too fast, I…”

  Nita shook her head. “Wait.”

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured,” Deo went on hurriedly, “just because I…I said I love you.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Yes,” Deo said immediately. She caressed Nita’s cheek. “But I know you might not believe me, because of things you might have heard about me or—”

  “Deo,” Nita said firmly, “the only thing I’m listening to is you. And my heart.”

  “And what does your heart tell you?”

  Deo’s need was so plain that Nita ached. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Nita kissed her. “I don’t want to be yours tonight.”

  Deo stiffened.

  “Not just tonight. I think…no, I know, that I want to be yours for a lot longer than that.” Nita looked into Deo’s eyes. “I love you.”

  Deo sighed, a heavy rush of air that sounded as if she’d been holding her breath for a very long time. “That sounds so good to hear.”

  “It feels so good to say,” Nita said in wonderment. “In fact, it feels great.”

  Nita pulled off Deo’s red bandanna and combed her fingers through Deo’s hair. The wind promptly ruffled it into maddeningly sexy disarray again. “God, I love the way you look.”

  Deo grinned and bumped her pelvis into Nita’s. “Just the way I look?”

  “Stop that,” Nita chastised. “Now that I know what it’s like to make love with you, I want you all the time. And it’s been a week since you’ve touched me, and I’m about going out of my mind. Don’t tease.”

  “I’m not teasing.” Deo kissed a path down the center of Nita’s throat and Nita moaned. “Let’s go to my place. I want to make love to you.”

  Nita caressed Deo stomach, skimming her fingertips next to the row of sutures. “We should probably wait a few more days.”

  “I can’t wait,” Deo muttered, brushing her mouth over Nita’s breast and making her nipple harden beneath the silk of her bra and blouse. “I’ve waited all my life. I need you in my mouth.”

  “Oh God, Deo. Don’t do that. Don’t say that.” Nita gripped Deo’s hair and pulled her head away from her breast. “I can’t stand it.”

  “I need to be inside you again, Nita.” Deo’s hand shook as she touched Nita’s cheek. “I can’t tell you how right it feels to be that close to you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Nita whispered. “I can feel it.”

  “Then let me make love to you. Now. Please.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” Nita protested. “I want you too much.”

  “You can never want me too much.” Deo cupped Nita’s face. “You can never love me too much.”

  “Well,” Nita whispered, “I’m going to spend a very, very long time trying.”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  The wind picked up and Deo’s hair whipped around her face. Her eyes shone with unrestrained joy. As Deo tugged N
ita down the stairs from the widow’s walk, Nita whispered thanks to whatever fates or fortune had brought this love to her.

  About the Author

  Radclyffe is a retired surgeon and full time author-publisher with over twenty-five lesbian novels and anthologies in print, including the Lambda Literary and Golden Crown Award winners Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments ed. with Stacia Seaman; Distant Shores, Silent Thunder; Justice Served; and Promising Hearts. She has selections in multiple anthologies including Wild Nights, Fantasy, Best Lesbian Erotica 2006 and 2007, After Midnight, Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists, First-Timers, Ultimate Undies: Erotic Stories About Lingerie and Underwear, A is for Amour, and H is for Hardcore. She is the recipient of the 2003 and 2004 Alice B. Readers’ award for her body of work and is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBT publishing companies.

  Her forthcoming works include In Deep Waters: 1 written with Karin Kallmaker (October 2007) and the romance The Lonely Hearts Club (February 2008).

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