by Gerri Hill
"Oh, Casey," she breathed when Casey's mouth finally covered her, only the thin material of her bra separating them. But then Casey released her bra, pulling her mouth away long enough to shed the garment, then going back, this time without an obstacle to block her. Again, Leslie was afraid she was going to fall. The wet swirling of Casey's tongue as she teased her nipple, bringing it to life, nearly was her undoing. The mouth at her breast was gentle, teasing, then demanding as she suckled her, her teeth raking against her nipple. Leslie held her tight, silently begging her to take more. Her head fell back and she stood there, mouth open and gasping for breath as Casey feasted on her breast.
So lost was she in the feel of Casey's warm mouth devouring her that she didn't realize her shorts had been unbuttoned, didn't realize Casey's hands were on her flesh until she felt them slide inside her panties, cupping her buttocks hard, kneading them. She groaned when Casey's mouth left her breast and moved to her ear, her tongue snaking inside hotly.
"Are you wet for me?" she whispered.
Involuntarily, Leslie's hips pressed forward, touching Casey, desperately seeking relief. Her hands moved across her back and into her hair while her lower body tried to mold itself to Casey. Was she wet? She was beyond wet. She was absolutely throbbing. And damn, it felt so good. So she pulled her head back, finding Casey's lips this time, and she smiled against them. "Why don't you touch me and find out?"
They pulled apart, their eyes meeting. Leslie nearly collapsed right there from the pure look of desire that reflected back at her. No one had ever looked at her this way. No one had ever wanted her this way. And certainly no one had ever brought her to her knees with passion. Passion for her.
While she watched, Casey stepped back and stripped off her bra. Leslie stood there, her chest nearly heaving, her eyes fixed on Casey's breasts. Unconsciously, she wet her lips as she watched her nipples harden, beckoning her. Then her gaze shifted downward as Casey's hands unzipped her shorts and slid them past her hips, down her thighs and to the floor. When her hands reached for the last remaining item of clothing, Leslie stopped her.
"No."
Casey raised her eyebrows and Leslie shook her head. "Let me," she whispered.
Her own shorts, which already hung low on her hips, slipped easily down her legs, and she tossed them aside. They stood facing each other, naked except for the clothing covering the one place they both wanted to be. Then Leslie stepped forward, nearly embarrassed by the shaking of her hand as she reached out to touch Casey for the first time. She watched in fascination as Casey's nipples hardened even more from her light touch.
"Your skin is so soft," she murmured, wondering if she'd spoken the words or only thought them. But her touch grew bolder as she cupped both of Casey's breasts, feeling her eyelids grow heavy from her desire. "I want...I want to kiss them," she said shyly.
Casey simply nodded, waiting.
Her heart was beating so loudly, it blocked out all thought. She lowered her head, a soft moan slipping out as her mouth closed gently, taking Casey inside, letting her tongue swirl across the taut nub in her mouth.
"Yes, harder," Casey whispered, holding her firmly against her breast.
And Leslie did, her mouth opened again, letting her hunger guide her as she sucked hard on Casey's breast, both her hands cupping her, holding her to her mouth.
"Now I may fall down," Casey said, gently easing Leslie away. "My God," she whispered. "Bed."
Leslie wasn't sure she could make it to the bed. Her legs felt wobbly, her mind fuzzy. She stared at Casey, lost in a passion she'd only dreamed of, barely conscious of Casey slipping her panties down her legs.
Then Casey led her to the bed, laying down and pulling her on top. The long-buried memories of lying with another girl, of shyly exploring another girl's body under the cover of darkness in a tiny dorm room, could never have prepared her for this. She let her weight settle on Casey, was conscious of Casey's thighs parting, making a space for her. But then conscious thought left her when Casey's hands gripped her hips and pulled her close, both of them arching, touching.
"You feel so good," Casey whispered as her mouth once again found hers.
The bed spun and Leslie found herself on her back with Casey's smoldering eyes boring into hers. Then Casey's knee urged her legs apart and she pressed her hard thigh tight against her. Any coherent thought she still clung to fled as she lost herself in Casey's hands and mouth. Again, a hot tongue circled her nipple, teasing it until Leslie was trembling. But the hands that moved across her skin so softly--so slowly--were driving her to the very edge of sanity.
She arched her hips, her legs opening wider, trying desperately to bring some relief to her heated body. She groaned as Casey pressed down hard against her clit, then gasped as Casey's teeth raked across her nipple.
"Please," she begged. "I can't take any more." She felt Casey's mouth gentle as she moved her lips to her other breast. "It's agony. Torture," she breathed as Casey's mouth closed over her. She grabbed Casey's hips, jerking them forcefully against her. "Please touch me."
She felt Casey's weight shift off her, then whimpered as Casey's hand moved past her waist to her hips. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Never had she needed like this, never had she been on the verge of begging someone to make love to her before, never had she thought she would die from the want of it. In agonizing slowness, Casey's fingers danced across her skin, driving her mad with desire, with need, with a hunger that demanded to be satisfied. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, Casey's fingers dipped lower, brushing through her wetness, touching the inside of her thighs lightly, pushing her legs apart.
She felt Casey pause and she opened her eyes, finding Casey's.
"Yes." Yes to everything.
And then, finally, Casey touched her, her fingers gliding into her, filling her. God, yes. She arched, taking Casey inside, holding her there. Then she lowered her hips again, feeling Casey withdraw--almost--then those fingers took her again, filling her, moving with a rhythm that Leslie set, her hips rocking gently with each stroke. She tried to open her eyes, she wanted to watch Casey as she took her, but her eyes refused to cooperate, remaining shut as her hips moved faster and faster, feeling Casey taking her harder and harder.
The only sounds the slick wetness as Casey plunged inside her and frantic breathing of both of them. Yes, yes, yes, yes, she silently chanted as she felt her body drift away from her, pulling at her soul, threatening to rip her apart. When she was certain she would literally explode, when her brain simply ceased to function any longer, she felt Casey's fingers withdraw, replaced immediately by her mouth. Hot lips closed over her aching clit, and she grasped the sheets in her fists, trying to hold on, but Casey took her over the edge. Her scream--a deep guttural sound--came from her soul, and in her haze she wondered if she'd ever really had an orgasm before.
But she had no time to recover. Casey gathered her hips to her, her mouth still feasting, suckling her, her tongue delving deep inside her. No, she couldn't possibly respond again, her body was too spent, her mind too drained. But she did. Like a slow crescendo, it built, tugging at her, pushing her forward. She opened her eyes, watching as Casey nestled between her legs. The sight of this woman pleasuring her--making love to her--was her undoing. Her hips jerked once, hard against Casey's face, then she squeezed her thighs together, holding Casey, letting her take the last of her orgasm in her mouth...and then she collapsed.
Casey leaned on her elbow, watching Leslie as she caught her breath, unable to stop her hand as it found its way across her body, lightly caressing Leslie's skin, moving to her breast. The nipple hardened against her palm, and she squeezed, feeling Leslie stir. Brown eyes opened, then closed again as a contented smile touched her lips.
"Is wow an adequate enough description?" Leslie asked as she rolled toward her. "I thought I was going to pass out."
"Mmm."
Casey lay back, pulling Leslie's warm body to her, her own eyes closing as Leslie's hand shyly cupped
her breast, teasing her.
"Your skin is so soft." Leslie leaned closer, her lips moving across her breast, finally closing over her nipple.
Casey moaned, forcing her eyes open as she watched Leslie at her breast. Was it too soon? Had they rushed things? She let her eyes slip closed as Leslie moved to her other breast. No, it was inevitable. Today, next week, it didn't matter when.
"You like that?"
Casey smiled. "Mmm."
"Can I...can I touch you?"
Casey finally opened her eyes, forgetting this was Leslie's first time. She pulled Leslie to her, kissing her slowly, hearing her moan. "I want you to touch me," she whispered.
Leslie didn't need any more encouragement as her hand glided down her body, past her hips. There was no hesitation, she simply parted her thighs, her fingers moving through her wetness, touching her.
"Oh, God," Leslie breathed, her eyes finding Casey's. "Can I touch you with my mouth?"
Casey merely nodded, unable to speak. There was a hunger in Leslie's eyes she'd not seen before. A look of sheer desire, of longing. She was suddenly terrified she wouldn't be able to stand it.
Again, there was no hesitation as Leslie slid down her body, her hands and mouth moving across her skin, nearly burning her where they touched. She spread her legs, her back arching, silently begging Leslie to hurry. Leslie's mouth moved across her stomach, leaving light kisses behind, finding the sensitive spot at the curve of her hip, causing her to moan.
"Yes." Oh, yes.
She felt Leslie cup her hips, felt her settle between her thighs, felt her breath against her wet skin. She forced her eyes open, watching. Then Leslie looked up, meeting her gaze.
"I've been dreaming of you my whole life," she whispered.
Any reply Casey had was lost as Leslie lowered her head, her tongue slipping inside her, her mouth covering her--kissing and tugging--driving out all thought except for the reality that this woman was nestled between her thighs, devouring her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Leslie stared at herself in the mirror, wondering why she didn't look different this morning. She certainly felt different.
Would anyone know? Would anyone know she'd spent the last two days in another woman's bed? She gripped the countertop hard, still not used to the flood of desire that stole over her every time she thought of Casey making love to her, and her loving Casey. Just once more, she'd begged Casey.
Just once more.
One more kiss, one more touch. But it was never enough. And Saturday turned into Sunday while they explored every inch of each other, finding the secret places, driving each other over the edge again and again.
And it was still not enough.
She turned on the faucet, splashing her face with water, remembering every kiss, every touch, every time she screamed out Casey's name.
"Good Lord," she murmured. Even now, she could still feel her desire, could still smell Casey, taste her. Could still imagine her fingers as they slid into her wetness, stroking her, making her come again and again.
She turned the water off, again staring at herself. How was she ever going to get through the day? When she saw Casey, how was she going to stop from touching her? How was she going to be able to look at her and not want her?
Why hadn't they discussed it? Had they even talked at all? No, not really. Certainly not about Michael. They didn't have to. Casey had touched her finger where the ring had been. There was no need to bring Michael into their weekend.
But the rest? No, they'd not talked about it. Like Casey had said once, it was very scary. But what do they do now? They acknowledged their attraction, yes. They acted on that attraction. Now what?
Panic and fear crowded in at once, nearly choking her. Was that it? One weekend? Was Casey satisfied? Or would they date now? Or would Casey think that they needed to see other people?
Does she think I want to see other women?
She took deep breaths, wondering why everything suddenly seemed so complicated. So they had sex. It was just a natural progression. They were attracted to each other, so they had sex. Nothing more, nothing less.
Right. Then why did her insides feel all jumbled up? Why was her heart lodged in her throat? And why was she hiding out in the ladies' room at seven thirty in the morning?
Before an answer came to her, the door opened. She looked up, catching the reflection in the mirror. In that one glance, her fears subsided as quickly as they'd come. Because the look in Casey's eyes was the same look she'd seen all weekend. Desire. Understanding. And the barely veiled look of longing. She turned slowly, absorbing the warmth and affection she found there, surprised she was able to stop from flinging herself into Casey's arms.
"You okay?"
Leslie nodded, afraid to speak.
Casey let the door close behind her, then came closer. Too close. This time Leslie couldn't stop and she moved her hand, capturing Casey's fingers with her own.
"We probably should have talked," Casey said, her lips hinting at a smile.
"Yes. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act this morning."
They stared at each other, their fingers still touching. Then Casey finally did smile, squeezing her fingers before moving away. "We'll be fine," she said. "We're partners." She went to the door, then stopped, turning back around. "I had a fantastic weekend. How was yours?"
Leslie laughed, feeling the tension leave the room. "Yeah. It was a wonderful weekend."
"Good." Casey stepped out, then stuck her head back inside. "Maybe we could do it again? Soon?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
"Good." Then she winked at her. "See? We've talked about it."
The door closed behind her and Leslie turned back to the mirror, meeting her own eyes again. There was a different kind of fear in them this time.
I think I'm falling in love with her.
Of course, considering how she just spent the weekend, she hoped it was more than just lust that had kept her in Casey's bed for two days.
Chapter Thirty-Three
They crowded around Malone's desk, shuffling the visitor's chairs to fit them all. Tori tipped her chair back, leaning against the wall as she watched O'Connor and Tucker. There was something going on with them. First of all, they sat as far away from each other as possible, which Tori found strange. Normally, they were practically joined at the hip. And secondly, they weren't looking at each other. She arched an eyebrow as she casually glanced at Leslie's hand. No ring.
No ring?
"Okay, let's go over it," Malone said. "I finally got the approval for the twenty-four hour tag on your John Doe. I had to pull in favors on this one, seeing as how he's not even a suspect."
"His brother--"
"Yes, the mystery brother--or sister, depending on his mood." Malone looked at Casey. "O'Connor, I understand you two talked to him on Friday. Why don't you fill us in?"
O'Connor crossed her legs and glanced over at Leslie quickly. "Well, as everyone knows, we'd been looking for John all week. We finally spotted him Friday afternoon. In a dress."
"What the hell?"
"He said it was his turn to be the sister. Basically, whenever Patrick wants him to be the sister, he leaves the dress. So when John wakes up and the dress is there, he knows he's to be the sister."
"And what's the purpose of that?" Sikes asked.
"We have no idea," Leslie said. "John doesn't know why, and he doesn't ask. He merely does as his brother tells him."
"You think it could be for an alibi?" Tori asked. "I mean, if John is seen on the street in the dress, they'll just assume it's Patrick, like always."
"I think the dress is a quirk of Patrick's," Leslie said, "but I don't think it's the norm for him."
"John kept saying they were opposite," Casey said. "When he's awake, during the day, Patrick sleeps. At night, he sleeps, and Patrick is out and about. And they don't normally sleep together."
"John said Patrick stays inside, where it's cold and dark. The hole in the wall,
" Leslie said.
"A warehouse?"
"There are plenty of abandoned buildings. They would be cold and dark."
"John is like a child," Leslie said. "He sees things in black and white. When we asked him where Patrick slept he said the hole in the wall. That's because that's what he sees. He doesn't see a building or a warehouse, or whatever. To him, he sees Patrick going into a hole in the wall."
"And I got the impression he was afraid of that hole," Casey added.
"Tell Malone about the twin part," Tori said.
"Oh, yeah. Not just brothers. He said they were twins."
"Identical twins?" Malone asked. "Are you kidding me?"
"Not identical," Leslie said. "Their DNA is different."
"I don't understand."
"Yeah, I checked with Mac," Tori said. "Identical twins have identical DNA. John's DNA sequence suggests it's a relative, thus his brother. Mac said identical twins come from one egg that splits, so it's essentially two of the same egg. Fraternal twins start out as two separate eggs. They could end up looking alike, but they won't be identical."
"Mac told you all this and you actually understood?" Casey teased.
"Hey, I'm not as dumb as I look," Tori said as she tossed a pen at her.
"No. It's just that I've been with you before when Mac's explaining DNA. I've seen the blank look on your face."
"Kids, can we focus on this, please?"
"Sorry, Lieutenant," they said in unison.
"Okay, we have three murders associated with this. The other case...four months ago now?" He shuffled through his files. "The one Donaldson and Walker had. Yes, Christine Farmer. Twenty-six. Cascade apartments. Then we go nearly three months before we got Dana Burrows, the college student, at Stone Ridge apartments. Now, Rhonda Hampton, again at Cascades. All women in their twenties, all lived alone."
"All on ground floor units," Sikes added.
"None of the women were raped, yet semen was found on each victim," Tori said.
