Beyond the Breakwater

by Radclyffe

  “Then I’ll go happy.” Reese slid her arm around Tory’s waist and pulled her near, then dipped her head to claim soft lips. Eyes closed, she lost herself in the familiar sensation of supple warmth and tender welcome. It had been too long since they had touched this way. Tory’s breasts brushed her own, and, as always, the pressure of Tory’s body started Reese’s blood humming. She groaned faintly and worked the back of Tory’s blouse free from her slacks. Her palm found the hollow at the base of her lover’s spine, and she spread her fingers over the swell of hips below, urging Tory closer still.

  “Reese…” Tory sighed as she released the kiss. “I don’t think…”

  “Shh. I’ve missed you.” Reese’s voice was deep and mellow. She took Tory’s mouth again, more insistently this time, probing deeper with her tongue, sucking on the full lower lip until Tory moaned. Reese closed her thighs, holding Tory captive against her.

  “Your ar—”

  “Is fine,” Reese whispered and moved her lips to the sweet spot below Tory’s jaw, kissing her way down to the faint hollow between her collarbones. She drew her fingers from Tory’s back, around her side, and up underneath the front of her blouse. When she encountered the thin silk brassiere and the hard nipple beneath, she flicked her thumb across the taut peak. Tory surged against her, a sharp cry resonating from her throat. The sound of her pleasure made Reese stiffen and throb. “Ah, God, you are so perfect.”

  “They’re so sensitive now.” Tory arched her neck, her eyes closed. “I can feel it all the way inside me when you do that.”

  Reese rested her forehead against the crook of Tory’s neck, working the full nipples between her fingers, one and then the other. Tory’s breasts lay heavy in her palm, a weighty fullness so sensuous it stole her breath. Listening to Tory’s breathing quicken, she teased her until Tory’s hands in her hair forced her head up.

  “Am I hurting you?” Reese quickly searched Tory’s face.

  “No,” Tory managed hoarsely. “It feels so good I think you could make me come.”

  “Do you want to try?” Reese whispered through a throat tight with desire. She never stopped the rhythmic squeezing, watching Tory’s green eyes darken with arousal.

  “Mmm, no. I want to lie down so you can touch me everywhere.”

  Reese groaned as another jolt of excitement tore through her. Pleasing Tory always drove her to the edge, and often when Tory climaxed, she would too, spontaneously, just from hearing her lover’s cries. “Bedroom?”

  “Yes, now, before I can’t walk at all.”

  They managed to climb the stairs to their bedroom without losing contact, their arms around each other’s waists.

  Once at the bedside, Tory turned on the lamp and, with her voice pitched low, directed, “Sit down.”

  Wordlessly, Reese did as she was bid. Although aware of the steady pounding in her depths, of the building pressure demanding relief, she would not move until Tory allowed it. Tory’s pleasure was her greatest satisfaction.

  “Watch me,” Tory murmured as she unbuttoned her blouse, her eyes on Reese’s face. She slid it off, let it fall to the floor. “I love the way you want me.”

  “So much.” Reese forced the words out as her hand trembled on her thigh. She caught her breath as Tory reached behind, released the clasp on her bra, and freed her breasts. They were fuller now, lush in a way that was primordially female. Watching Tory’s hands brush lightly over them, linger briefly on the swollen nipples, then slide down her abdomen, made Reese’s stomach clench. A pulse beat frantically between her thighs.

  “Touch me,” Tory breathed, stepping closer and reaching for Reese’s left hand. She drew the fingers to her breast, closing her eyes at the shock of pleasure as Reese gently squeezed. While Reese teased her, Tory unbuttoned her own slacks and pushed them down along with her underclothes. Resting one hand on Reese’s shoulder, she stepped free, exposing herself to her lover’s view.

  “You’re more beautiful every day.” Reese lightly smoothed her palm down Tory’s gently curving abdomen. When her fingers brushed the soft hair at the base of her belly, Tory’s hips jerked.

  “Time for me to lie down,” Tory said huskily, her fingers fluttering over Reese’s cheek. “Be careful with your arm, sweetheart.”

  “I’m fine.” Reese shifted to make room on the bed, leaning her right shoulder against the pillows as she turned on her side. “Lie close to me.”

  “Yes.” Tory lay on her back, her eyes on Reese’s face. “Go slow.”

  “I will.”

  Knowing fingers traced Tory’s breasts, the slope of her ribs, the faint curve of her hip. Everywhere, Tory’s skin tingled; every sensation seemed to center between her thighs. When Reese brushed her hand the length of Tory’s leg, then up the inside, Tory’s hips lifted in invitation. But Reese did not touch her where she so desperately needed to be touched, moving instead to the other leg, stroking lightly up and down until Tory quivered with urgency.

  “Slow enough?”

  “Mmm…”

  “Now?”

  “Oh, please.”

  Smiling, her breath barely moving in her chest, Reese drew a fingertip high between her lover’s legs, parting swollen folds, and gasped as a flood of moisture rose to her touch.

  “Yes.” Tory sighed.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” Reese demanded softly as she slid her fingers around Tory’s clitoris, squeezing gently. She fondled her until the rolling rhythm of Tory’s hips signaled she was on the edge. Then Reese moved lower, easing inside, drawing a guttural moan from her lover. She thrust slowly, watching Tory’s pupils grow huge.

  “Oh God,” Tory cried. “You have me so close.”

  “Help me,” Reese urged, deep in her now.

  Tory slid her hand down her own abdomen, her eyes locked on Reese’s. The first flick of her fingertips over naked nerve endings brought her hips off the bed and wrenched a cry from her throat.

  Reese groaned.

  Tory kept her eyes open as long she could, watching her own pleasure reflected in Reese’s face. When the pressure built too high to resist release, she pressed harder, her hand and Reese’s moving together, driving her to orgasm.

  Long moments later, Tory sighed contentedly. “Maybe you could just stay home and be my sex slave.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” Reese nuzzled Tory’s ear, grinning inwardly. “But sex slaves don’t cook.”

  “Is that so?” Tory turned languidly on her side. She licked a bead of sweat from Reese’s neck as she reached for her fly. “Let’s check.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Well! Now things will get back to normal around here,” Gladys announced with a huge smile as Reese entered the office. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Just fine, really.” Reese blushed faintly and glanced at Nelson, who just shrugged.

  “Desk duty,” Nelson grumbled. “That’s what the doctor said.”

  “What, have you got my report card there or something?” Reese balanced her cap on a stack of folders resting precariously near the edge of her desk. Ignoring his snort, she sauntered across the room to a counter along one wall that held the coffeepot. She lifted the cloudy pot, swirled the murky contents, and eyed it speculatively. “How old is this?”

  “Don’t look at me.” Gladys pointedly turned her chair away. “I don’t drink that poison.”

  “I made it just…yesterday afternoon,” Nelson admitted sheepishly. The stuff had tasted a little like battery acid that morning. Just thinking about it sent him searching in his desk drawer for his antacids.

  “I think making coffee is probably considered desk duty,” Reese said with a sigh. “And for your information, the doctor said I can work as long as I don’t stress my arm.”

  “And I know your doctor, and I sure as hell don’t plan to get on her bad side.” Nelson still hadn’t forgotten the one time Tory had threatened him with bodily harm, and he’d known then that not only had she meant it, but also she was capable of doing it. “Three
weeks is awfully fast to come back to work.” Especially after being flat on your back and scaring the bejesus out of everyone. He didn’t like to think about it even now. The only good thing to come out of the whole deal was that Bri seemed to be speaking to him again. At least a little.

  “Three weeks is an awfully long time to be sitting around the house going crazy, too,” Reese grumbled.

  She filled the paper filter with coffee, settled it into the plastic chamber, and slid it home. After punching the on button, she turned and gave the room a contented once-over. Nothing had changed, except that the pile of paperwork on her desk seemed to have managed several generations of reproduction while she’d been gone. “And if we don’t get the hiring done and all the paperwork in order before the end of this month, we’re going to be behind for the rest of the summer.”

  Nelson chewed the chalky tablet absently, fingering a dog-eared piece of paper as he read it for at least the tenth time. Then he passed it from his desk to Reese’s. “That’s the first order of business. What you decide to do about it is up to you.”

  “What is it?” Reese’s curiosity was piqued as she settled behind her desk. The chair creaked in its familiar fashion, which brought a smile to her face.

  “I’ve got to sit in on one of those damn town council meetings,” Nelson announced as he rose abruptly. In less than a minute, he had fished his hat and jacket from the rack by the door and walked out, leaving Reese to stare after him in surprise.

  When she raised a questioning eyebrow at Gladys, the older woman merely shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t have any idea what’s going on with that man. But something is surely bothering him, and I can only think of a couple of things that might be.”

  Reese nodded contemplatively and turned her attention to the document Nelson had passed to her. It was an official inquiry, addressed to her, that had undoubtedly been opened in her absence to ensure that some important business had not gone unattended. She skimmed it quickly and thought she understood at least one reason for Nelson’s disquiet.

  *

  Reese phoned ahead to the clinic as she drove. They still had plenty of time before their flight, but it never hurt to give Tory a little advance warning. When the phone was answered by an extremely harried receptionist, she figured Tory was backed up with her schedule.

  “East End Health Clinic, hold please.” A moment later, Randy returned. “How may I help you?”

  “Hi Randy, it’s Reese. How’s Tory doing?”

  “If she hurries, she’ll only be a little late.” He laughed distractedly. “So, I would say it’s business as usual.”

  “Did she have lunch?”

  “I ordered it, Reese, I swear.” Randy’s tone vacillated between irritation and frustration. “But I can’t make her eat it.”

  Reese sighed, curbing her temper with effort. It wasn’t Randy’s fault if Tory worked too hard, and it certainly wasn’t his responsibility to see that she took a lunch break. “Do me a favor, will you? Have Sally pack it up, and I’ll see that she eats it on the plane.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  His voice faded away and she heard a muffled, “Excuse me…don’t let him eat that pen, please.”

  “It’s important.” Reese said it loudly enough to get his attention.

  “I know, Reese,” Randy replied, affronted.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just a little…”

  “Never mind. We love her, too. Look, I’m up to my behind here—”

  “Right. Thanks again. I’ll wait outside.”

  At only a few moments past their appointed rendezvous time, Tory exited through the front door of her one-story medical office building and hurried across the parking lot to Reese’s cruiser. She carried her briefcase in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

  “You can’t harass my staff in the middle of office hours, Sheriff,” Tory remarked threateningly as she slid into the front seat.

  “Says who? I’m the law around here.”

  Tory leaned over and kissed Reese on the mouth, then glanced pointedly at Reese’s right arm and frowned. “How are you feeling, really? And I don’t want a two-word answer.”

  Reese grinned. “Being pregnant makes you cranky.”

  “You haven’t seen cranky yet, sweetheart. Now, let’s have a progress report.”

  “No swelling, no numbness, and…just a little stiff and sore.”

  “Good.” Tory leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes.

  “You okay?” Reese glanced over in concern.

  Tory rested her left hand on Reese’s thigh and patted her gently. “It was hectic this morning, that’s all.”

  “Do you have your lunch?”

  Smiling, Tory turned her head and opened her eyes. “Yes, I do. As per your instructions. Whatever it is you do to Randy, you make him nervous. There was no way he was letting me out of the building without it. I was afraid he was going to do a full body search.”

  Reese grinned. “If he tries that, I’ll really make him nervous.”

  *

  Forty-five minutes later, Reese was nervous. “Tell me again what this is going to show.”

  They were seated on facing chairs in one corner of Wendy Deutsch’s waiting room. There were two other couples in the room, the female members of each pair conspicuously pregnant.

  Tory rested her hand on Reese’s knee. The thick khaki fabric of her uniform pants was as reassuringly solid as Reese herself. “It will give Wendy, and us, some information about the baby—how it’s developing. If we didn’t know exactly when the date of conception was, it would help determine fetal age, too.”

  Reese cleared her throat, ignoring the faint churning in her stomach. “So, it’s routine.”

  “Almost eighty percent of pregnant women have an ultrasound performed at some point during their pregnancy,” Tory assured her. “And for high-ri—uh, for women over thirty-five, it’s absolutely standard.”

  High risk. She doesn’t think I know?Reese covered Tory’s hand with hers and squeezed gently. “And we’ll be able to see its…parts?”

  “What parts would you be referring to?” Tory couldn’t smother a laugh. “Besides, I thought you said you didn’t care.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Reese grumbled in mock indignation. “The head and the heart and the spine. Those parts.”

  “Very good, Sheriff. Yes, at eleven weeks we can see the heart beat and with a good image, we can tell if the neural crest elements—the brain and spinal cord—are developing normally.”

  God, what if…But that was like wondering what an upcoming battle would be like. What it might be like to be shot or killed. Pointless musings about an eventuality that might never arise. Reese straightened her shoulders, and, with the long-ingrained gesture, her nervousness disappeared. “Will you be able to tell its sex, if you see it?”

  “Well, if I see it, I’ll know. But not seeing a penis doesn’t mean it’s not a boy. It just means it doesn’t show.”

  “But I won’t be able to tell,” Reese pointed out in a rare show of pique. “I’ve seen those pictures in your books. They look like a bunch of blanks in a snowstorm.”

  “I’ll make sure you see, if you want to.”

  “If you know, I want to know.”

  “Deal.” Tory extended her hand to seal the bargain.

  Reese smiled and took Tory’s hand, but she didn’t shake it. She folded it between both of hers and leaned forward to murmur, “I love you.”

  “I lo—”

  “You two all set?” Wendy’s nurse interrupted as she approached with a chart in one hand.

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  Forty minutes later, Tory was dressed again, and she and Reese waited in one of the consultation rooms for Wendy to return with the printouts of the ultrasound examination.

  “So, what do you think about names?” Reese’s blue eyes were dancing. “Something nice and strong to go with King, like yours. Victoria Conlon King. Great name for a girl. Oh, but Victoria
’s already taken. And we already have too many Kates and Catherines in the family. My mother, your sister. Maybe—”

  “Reese, sweetheart,” Tory said calmly. “We don’t know it’s a girl.”

  “Well, yeah, but we saw everything. So if it was there, we would’ve seen—”

  The door opened and Wendy came in. “Okay,” she said briskly as she walked around the cluttered desk and sat down. She extended her hand with the Polaroids. “Here you go. Baby’s first pictures.”

  Grinning, Reese took them, then glanced down as she shuffled through the images. Suddenly, all the black and white splotches looked miraculously like arms and legs and facial expressions.

  “Everything seems fine with the fetus,” Wendy commented neutrally.

  Fine with the fetus, but…Reese looked up instantly, her eyes darkening, searching and intent. She glanced at Tory, whose expression was unreadable.

  “Your blood pressure is just a tad high, Tory.”

  “Yes, I know,” Tory replied evenly. “I’ve been charting it for the last few weeks. It’s been running a bit above normal, but today is about the highest it’s been. I guess I was a little nervous.”

  “Understandable, and nothing to get alarmed about, although it bears watching. Keep a log. Call me if it starts reading higher. For now, limit your salt intake. And no caffeine at all.”

  Tory groaned.

  “Sorry.” Wendy grinned. “Regular exercise and plenty of rest.”

  “Can I keep kayaking?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “What about the dojo?” It was a quiet inquiry from Reese. “Should she quit?”

  “Not until the last trimester,” Wendy replied. “I wouldn’t let an inexperienced student throw you, Tory, but ordinary workouts should be fine.”

  “Okay.” Tory watched Reese, who had gotten very still. A muscle bunched at the base of her jaw. Ah, damn. I didn’t handle this very well.

  “Good.” Wendy stood. “Then I’ll see you in two weeks. I’ve got to run. Call me any time.”