by JLee Meyer
Laurel was wearing a front zip sweatshirt and tie sweatpants. Yet even those seemed welded closed. “Yes, hurry.”
She was pretty sure she would pass out soon unless Stef made love to her. She’d never felt this way about anyone—everything was brand new, so new there was no time to be shy, be polite, she couldn’t think, for God’s sake. Her clothes were too tight and Stef’s naked body wasn’t helping. Stef started on the zipper, pulling it slowly down. Laurel couldn’t stand it. Night after night she’d lain next to Stef, ending up in her arms or wrapped around her by the morning. Despite the distraction of her injuries, she’d been swollen for every minute. Even her attempt at relieving the pressure herself was a miserable failure. She only wanted Stef and she wanted her now.
She tore the zipper from Stef’s hand and finished the job herself. Then she pulled the drawstring on her pants to let them drop unceremoniously to the floor and stomped to get out of them, kicking them off. Thankfully, she hadn’t worn anything else. Without a moment’s hesitation she took Stef’s hand and placed it where she had dreamt of it being for so long. Long before Rochelle, long before any woman she had ever been with, she realized she’d longed for Stefanie.
“This is what you do to me,” she said. “Don’t leave me.”
Stef’s eyes widened in recognition. Her pupils, already so large, almost completely filled her irises. “On the bed.”
They almost leapt from where they were, Laurel ignoring her protesting ribs as they landed in the middle of the covers. For a moment, they searched each other’s faces.
“I love you, Laurel, I think I always will.”
Stef returned to Laurel’s center and stroked her, pushing inside, giving her so much pleasure Laurel burst into a strong orgasm within seconds. She called out Stef’s name and begged her not to stop, coming to another, stronger orgasm on the heels of the first.
They lay for a moment, both trying to catch their breath. Laurel had felt Stef ride her thigh and was sure Stef had come, too. But not like she was going to.
“I was selfish.” She skimmed the side of one of Stef’s breasts. “I couldn’t stand it, you drive me insane.”
Stef gasped, “It’s okay, I couldn’t help but come with you. Just to be naked with you…to make love to you, see your face. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“I must be selfish again, I have to.”
“What can I do? Be as selfish as you want.” Her eyes told Laurel all she needed to know.
“Lie back, I need to have my way with you.”
As Stef collapsed onto the bed, she flung her arms over her head and opened her legs wide. Laurel could see how swollen she was. How wet.
“I’m a pig. Thinking only of myself.” She reached down and ran the pad of her thumb the length of Stef’s need, then leaned in to suck her clit to a hard prominence.
Stef groaned, and her hips rose to push hard into Laurel’s mouth. Laurel flicked her clit with her tongue, then gently bit down and felt Stef jackknife almost to a sitting position before collapsing back on the bed. She entered Stef, using her tongue to stroke her.
“More,” Stef implored. “Oh God, more. I’m…almost…there.”
Laurel concentrated on Stef’s clitoris, making the movements sharp and quick until Stef became still, her legs trembling. When her body rolled with the shocks of her orgasm Laurel, didn’t stop until she’d driven her relentlessly to two more.
Stef finally begged for mercy, and Laurel, completely drunk with power, granted it.
Chapter Sixteen
“Uh, Dr. Hoffman? I think you missed the exit.” Ember’s voice dragged Laurel back to reality.
“What? Oh, I was just…thinking.” Laurel’s life was upside down and her concentration was shot. She should have insisted that Ember drive, but she needed to drop her off a few blocks before the campus so no one knew of their friendship. The precaution protected both of them.
“You sure you’ll be okay until class? I can come with you to your office. It’s no problem.”
She was so innocent in her offer; Laurel hoped she never lost that innocence. Ember had no idea of the political ramifications of a stunningly beautiful young woman escorting an instructor to her office. The gossip would be in full swing the moment they exited the car. With phone cameras, their picture together would be on the university intranet before class started. She probably should have dropped her at the BART station.
“No, it’s better this way,” Laurel said. Rochelle would never do anything on campus. “After I drop you off, please call and tell Stef I’m okay.”
Ember nodded, staring out the windshield. She extracted the new cell phone Jock had given her and said, “I’ve got her on speed dial.”
Laurel would call, too, of course. It was all she could do to get Stef to agree to Ember as her sole bodyguard. She’d almost had all of Jock’s crew following her in a convoy. Her heart swelled at the recognition that so many wanted to help.
After leaving Ember, she drove into the faculty parking lot. She was nervous, despite her brave words, because Rochelle had been so unpredictable lately. But she wasn’t scheduled to be on campus today, so Laurel clung to the hope she would stick to her routine.
As she walked across the expansive lawns of the university, she was aware that the new clothes she’d purchased in a quick shopping trip fit differently. She’d chosen brighter colors, and her style was less constrained, more active and in charge. She had even picked out a tank that revealed her figure and some cleavage, something she wouldn’t have dreamt of doing before.
She knew exactly why, too. Stefanie Beresford. Stef made her feel special. She admired her mind and worshipped her body. She loved her soul. From the moment they touched, Laurel was forever and irrevocably a new woman. She returned every molecule of love to the woman who’d brought about the change. It didn’t matter what Rochelle or anyone else said or did, there was no going back. That knowledge gave her courage she didn’t know she possessed, and the vision of Stef’s eyes shining with love lifted her spirits and filled her with resolve.
So, yes, Stef was right about her being changed when she saw Rochelle again. But it wasn’t her clothes, or the fact that she bore some marks of their lovemaking. Those were not visible anyway. She’d thoughtfully chosen a shirt to wear over her tank top, since every time she thought of Stef, which was constantly, her nipples hardened.
Rochelle would notice a confidence in her that was completely new. She would no doubt tell Laurel that her glow was only because she was fucking Stef. Rochelle wouldn’t recognize the real basis of the change, that Laurel felt loved and could give love in return. Rochelle didn’t even know what that meant.
“So, you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.”
Laurel stopped, her chest tightening at the sound of Rochelle’s voice. She was behind her and Laurel wondered how long she’d been there. She whirled to meet her former partner’s glare, wondering if she’d even notice the fading bruises or the slight scar on her lip.
“I had to let the bruises fade. You know the drill.”
“Keep your voice down. Someone might hear you.”
In the past she would have instantly complied, but no more. “That’s your problem, Rochelle. And even if I were completely silent, no one’s blind and the facial bruising is still rather obvious, wouldn’t you say.”
Rochelle studied her and a knowing sneer settled on her features. “I knew it. You’re fucking her.”
Shrugging, Laurel said, “Well, I wasn’t when you kicked the crap out of me, dearest. But now? You bet I am.”
Rochelle’s face darkened with fury. “We’ll talk about this at home. I’ll be waiting after class.” Her jaw muscles were working overtime.
“No, Rochelle, we won’t. I’ve moved out. I won’t be alone with you because I don’t trust you.”
“I can break you, Laurel, so watch your mouth. I can get you dismissed and make sure you never work in a university again.”
“Perhaps. But unde
rstand one thing. I. Don’t. Care.” Laurel turned on her heel and strode toward the classroom building. She’d only taken several steps when her arm was in a vise, forcing her to face Rochelle.
“How dare you talk to me that way. I ought to—”
“Dr. Hoffman? Dr. Hoffman?” They both looked sideways to see Ember running toward them and skidding to a halt. Her smile faded as she spied Rochelle’s grip on Laurel’s arm, and Rochelle immediately dropped her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting?”
Rochelle forced a terse smile. “Why no, we were just discussing…a project.”
“Oh, great.” Ember dripped innocence. “I was hoping to talk to Dr. Hoffman about my term paper. You’re Professor Jacobs, aren’t you? Wow, what an honor.” She stuck her hand out and pumped vigorously, the picture of admiration.
Rochelle preened. “Yes, I am. And you are—”
“Oh, just a freshman. But I hope to be a student here for a long time and be in your class someday. I can’t believe I got to meet you.”
Before Ember piled it on a bit too thickly, Laurel said, “Well, we have a few minutes before class, so why don’t we talk about your paper on the way.”
“Sure, so nice to have met you, Professor Jacobs.” Ember stood back, all smiles and beautiful cluelessness, waiting for Laurel.
Rochelle gave them a thin smile. “Very well, see you after class, Dr. Hoffman.”
As they walked briskly across campus, Laurel ventured a glance over her shoulder to see Rochelle engaged with another student. “Thank you, Ember. I’m pretty sure you would get an A in my class, if you were enrolled.”
Breathlessly, Ember said, “Hey, I really, really, want to run. Guess that wouldn’t be, you know, cool, right?”
“Right. Let’s do it anyway.” They broke into a run that didn’t slow down until they were through the building’s glass doors.
*
Stef had enough energy to pull Laurel on top of her, after recovering from the last session of lovemaking. It took a bit of strength, too, because Laurel was unable to help. How she got that way brought a satisfied smirk to Stef’s lips.
“You’re gloating.” Laurel regarded her with those disconcerting green eyes.
The passion in her gaze caused a reaction in Stef that, although she couldn’t do much about it for a bit, she didn’t bother to suppress. “Yes, I am. You are so wondrous when you come. And I’m improving my technique.”
Resting her chin on Stef’s chest, Laurel let a hand wander, enjoying the hitch in Stef’s breath when she found a sensitive spot.
“So, tell me, how did Ember do as a bodyguard? I apologize for not asking until now, but I hadn’t seen you in forever and needed to feel you close to me.”
Actually, they’d practically ripped each other’s clothes off the moment they were alone. The first round was fast and desperate, each seeking reassurance from the other. The second and third were much more leisurely.
Laurel explained Ember’s escort to class, then added, “When class was over, Rochelle was lurking outside the door and, to tell the truth, I was jumpy. All of a sudden I was surrounded by at least half my students, Ember leading the way, and we walked, like a Roman phalanx, to my car, everyone chatting and asking questions. Rochelle couldn’t get near me without causing a huge stir. It was great.” She grinned.
“Way to go, Ember.”
“You know what else? I’m going to start playing racquetball again. My sister and I always loved it and I played in college with friends, but I stopped because Rochelle was so miserable to play with. Ember’s agreed to be my practice partner. What do you think of that?” Laurel’s eyes threw off more sparks of gold as she spoke. She looked happy.
Stef was thinking about a raise for Ember, perhaps a bonus. “Racquetball, that’s great.”
“What happened with Mrs. Castic?” Laurel asked. “Did the place they’re housing Mrs. Holloway fall for the story?”
“We’ll know soon. Mrs. C said to pass on the information she had given me, some Serbian attaché number in New York City, to the institution. To say they were snooty is to understate it.”
“If they go for the bait, what then?”
“According to Mrs. C, we march in there, she plays a doddering fool, and we tour until we find Seraphina Drake Holloway. Mrs. C says she’ll recognize her, no problem. Then we’ll ask her what’s going on, assuming she really isn’t demented.”
Stef felt her body begin to heat as Laurel continued her teasing exploration. She relieved some pressure by allowing her pelvis to rock in rhythm with Laurel’s. It was a temporary fix.
Laurel said, “Oh, my. That’s…nice. What were we saying?” She sat up to straddle Stef, fondling her breasts, gently teasing her nipples with her thumbs as she continued rocking. She slid her clit against Stef’s pubic hair and gasped.
“Christ.” Stef moaned. “You’re making me so excited, I can barely…talk.”
“Talking is the last thing I want you to do with your tongue, the very last thing.” Laurel raised up and turned so they could have access to each other. Feasting with their fingers and tongues brought them to thundering climaxes within minutes.
When they were once again in each other’s arms, Stef mumbled, “I want you again.”
That was the last thing she remembered until the next morning, when she got her wish.
Chapter Seventeen
The building Mrs. Holloway was housed in was across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County, about fifteen minutes up Highway 101 and then into wooded hills. Set in a small hollow, with surrounding outbuildings, it reminded Stef more of Wuthering Heights than a posh retirement facility. Behind the stone walls were beautifully tended grounds. Nothing moved, not even a stray leaf. The place was so quiet it gave her the creeps.
The tall, imposing security gates slowly swung open after she rang the bell and identified Countess Irina Castic and her granddaughter Stefanie. She was still reeling over that one, too. Mrs. C seemed to have the role down pat. Stef wondered if she had been an actress at some point. She walked regally to the chauffeur-driven car they’d arranged for the trip, wearing her finest clothes—dated but elegant. She’d insisted that Stef tart herself up, including exposing cleavage in a skimpy dress. Stef’s face warmed at the thought, because Laurel had really liked her new look and they were lucky the dress was still in one piece after she demonstrated just how much it turned her on. Her professor was full of surprises.
When the chauffeur opened the car door at the Heath Retirement Center, Mrs. C required much more help than before and seemed a bit addled. Impressed, Stef hoped she could play her own part as well.
The woman who greeted them was fortyish, rail thin, and had an icy demeanor. Her clothes were obviously expensive and her dark hair well tended. Her smile revealed capped teeth and her eyes remained distant, as though calculating net worth and the chances of getting some of it. She identified herself as Mrs. Juanita Stonewell, the executive director of the facility. While she was solicitous to the point of fawning to Stef, she virtually ignored Mrs. C, who made a show of looking bewildered.
Trying to separate from Mrs. C’s clinging fingers, Stef said, “Yeah, Gram, this is the place I told you about. As soon as you sign those papers you can live here.”
She turned to Juanita Stonewell and said, “Grammy’s losing it and I want to protect her, you know? I need her power of attorney so someone doesn’t take advantage of her. Gram was royalty in her country.” She made this announcement with sarcasm and rolled her eyes, giving Mrs. Stonewell a knowing look.
“Well, perhaps we can help. We can do a psychiatric evaluation here, to assess mental capacity, and we’ve often been called upon to testify on competency cases.”
“So I’ve heard. How much does that cost? You know, the testing and testifying part.” Stef picked Mrs. C’s hands off her arm again.
Warming to the topic, Mrs. Stonewell said, “Oh, it is rather expensive, but we can add that into her residency payments. The countess ca
n more than afford it.” She offered a conspiratorial wink. Stef fought to not slap her.
“Um, yeah, that’s good. Listen, do you have any other old ladies here that you’ve, er, helped? Maybe we can park my Gram with them and you and I can discuss the details.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “She’s driving me crazy.”
Stonewell nodded. “Let’s walk down to the TV room, there are lots of interesting things there and she can visit with the residents.”
Raising her voice, Stef yelled, “Gram, let’s go watch TV.”
Mrs. C looked at her in surprise. “Stefanie, is this the place?”
“Yeah, Gram, let’s go.”
They slowly made their way, following Mrs. Stonewell down a dark hallway that smelled of disinfectant and decay. Stef stole a glance at Mrs. C and thought she saw anger sharpen her eyes, then the dull sheen of confusion was back. No wonder Mrs. C was glad to stay in the hotel. As shabby as it was, it was better than this. And these people had money.
The “TV room” featured three televisions positioned in their own areas, each tuned to a different channel. Seemed like news, sports, and soap operas at first glance. Most residents were gathered in the soap opera pod. There was only one somnolent woman propped up on a couch in front of the television with the news on. She appeared to be sleeping.
The sole attendant in the room looked more like a guard than a nurse or aide. As they stood just inside the door, he nodded to Mrs. Stonewell and left, as though he was on rounds, checking on the inmates. Stef thought he should be slapping a baton against his thigh.
“Oh, can I watch the news? You know I love the news.” Mrs. C released her grip on Stef and tottered over to the couch, where she plopped down and seemed engrossed in the program.
If the woman on the couch with her was Holloway, Stef wished her luck. She looked heavily sedated. “Gram looks happy here for a while,” she told Mrs. Stonewell. “Show me the rest of the place. She won’t remember it anyway and it would take all day. I gotta get back to work.”
