by VK Powell
“Like a turd in a punch bowl.”
“This woman probably has enough clout to get us both fired. And before you say it, I know you don’t care, but I do. I happen to like my job and being able to pay the mortgage. If you’re determined to crash and burn, don’t take me down too. You’ve never been so rude or hostile before on the job. I’ve tried to get through to you, Jordan, but I’m reaching my limit.”
“Whatever.”
“That’s the best you can do? I’m really worried about you, and I need to know what’s going on.”
Jordan shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
“It might help to talk, not keep it bottled up.”
“Now you sound like my therapist. Talking won’t change anything. I know you’re just trying to be a friend, and I’m sorry for being such a shit lately.”
“Is your shrink picking at old scabs?”
“I’m fine,” Jordan said.
“Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. Roger that. Whatever you say.” Bex drove in silence for a few minutes. “I could go for a woman like Neela Sahjani. Love her hot-for-teacher glasses, and she’s got balls of steel to stand up to you. Admit it. You liked her, especially when she didn’t back down.”
“So what? She’s attractive. We’ve already covered that ground.”
“Would you at least try to be a little less glacial? It might help if my best friend isn’t glaring at her in the background when I make my move.”
“She’s probably not even a lesbian, and if she is, she’s got a waiting list as long as the Great Wall of China.” The idea of Bex hitting on Neela Sahjani felt wrong, but Jordan brushed it aside. They could do whatever they wanted. It had nothing to do with her.
As Bex drove back toward Greensboro, Jordan stared out the window thinking about Neela. She would certainly appeal to the masses, far more attractive in person than in her picture. Her curvy figure had been swathed in a pale-yellow suit that few women could wear without appearing like a tacky centerpiece. A white scarf highlighted the ensemble, a touch that was neither too flirty nor too professional. Jordan had skimmed the clothes before being sucked into the penetrating gaze that hadn’t shied away from her. And when Neela licked her full lips and stood her ground, Jordan felt her words like a challenge to her soul. She’d wanted to grab Neela’s long silky hair and yank her into a frenzied fuck right there on her perfectly organized desk.
Why had she been so affected by Neela, so irritated and rude? Was she trying to get a rise out of Neela, to piss her off so they’d get thrown off the case? Maybe she just wanted to feel something besides the numbness that had become her life. She hadn’t felt anything real in months…until a few minutes ago in Neela Sahjani’s office. When she’d leaned over Neela’s desk and she hadn’t backed down, Jordan had wanted to vault to the other side and claim her just to prove she was still capable of emotion. Neela’s obsidian eyes had shown a flash of fear, but she’d remained controlled and confident. Her defiance registered in a part of Jordan that was still barely alive. But she didn’t want to feel again, and she didn’t want to protect this politician. She wanted to hold on to her illogical dislike of her and carry on with life as usual. The known was safe.
Maybe her early Catholic indoctrination about absolute right and wrong was getting in the way. Perhaps she distrusted politicians and public entities that were supposed to advocate for the less fortunate. But she couldn’t let her past interfere with her job. She was a professional who dealt with adversity every day, but no one had affected her like Neela. If she had to accept this assignment, she’d just stay as far away from Doctor Sahjani as possible. Protection details were all about surveillance and apprehension. She could do that—no personal contact required.
After Bex dropped her off, Jordan rolled her Ducati out of the underground parking garage and headed for the back roads north of town. They twisted and curved through wooded areas and around the lakes, just enough to keep her mind off the new assignment and the old feelings she didn’t want to remember.
She opened the throttle and killed the headlights, savoring the challenge of navigating by moonlight. The damp air off the lake tingled, and an occasional bug stung her face. As she increased speed, the adrenaline she thrived on flooded her system. Her skin dimpled and tingled. Her heart raced and she panted to catch a breath. The need in her pulsed and throbbed, feeling more powerful than the machine roaring between her thighs. She pumped her fists in the air, let go of the handlebars, and screamed at the sky. “Yes!”
When she looked back down, a white dog stood in the middle of the road. She grabbed the brake and squeezed steadily. If she jerked, she’d go over the handlebars or throw the bike into a skid. No matter how much pressure she applied, she would hit him if she didn’t ditch.
“Love you too.” She mumbled, wiping at wet kisses. Jordan opened her eyes and met a pair of bright-blue ones staring back at her and a huge tongue ready for another swipe across her face. “Stop.” The dog she’d almost hit stood beside her. She did a physical survey of her body before moving to make sure nothing was broken. Urging the dog aside, she gently rose. “Who are you?” The dog wagged his tail for the first time, as though relieved she wasn’t badly injured. “Do you live around here?” I must have a head injury. I’m talking to a dog and expecting him to answer.
The dog’s fur was as white as her hair and clean except for some leaves across his back. She reached to brush them off, but the animal twisted his hindquarters away as though her touch was painful. “You’re hurt. Come here, fella.” She urged him closer and checked for obvious injuries and a collar. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone on the side of the road with no idea who he belonged to or if he had internal injuries. “We probably need to have you checked out.”
Jordan pulled her bike out of the ditch, grateful it didn’t appear to be damaged. She got on and motioned for the dog to join her. He placed his paws on the side of the gas tank and waited for help. When she reached down and grabbed hold, he leapt up and stretched himself across the tank and her legs. “Good boy. You’ve been riding before.” With her new charge in tow, Jordan drove much more carefully to the nearest emergency vet, wondering how the night had turned from one of carefree riding to concerned parenting.
*
After work Neela drove to the North Carolina State University campus where she conducted her stem-cell research, parked outside the College of Veterinary Medicine, and dialed her home number before going inside. “Bina, how are you?”
“Fine, honey. How are you?”
“Good. Listen, I’m—”
“Working late.”
“Can you manage? I’ve left some dinner for you in the fridge. I shouldn’t be too long.”
“You work too much. Come home. We can have a nice hot meal and talk.”
“I wish I could, but not tonight. I’ll see you before bedtime. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
A wave of guilt blanketed her as she walked to the back door of the college. She should be home, not just tonight but every night, but she had to make sacrifices for the greater good. God, she sounded like a recruiting slogan. She swiped her access card and wound her way through the corridors to the stem-cell lab. Her research partner, Liz Blackmon, was already hunkered over a tray of specimens, tendrils of her red hair escaping the mesh net.
She pulled on a pair of scrubs, snapped a net over her hair, washed her hands, shoved them into latex gloves, and entered the sealed room. “Sorry I’m late.”
Liz continued working. “You’re never late, honey. I’m actually early. Look at this.” She shoved a microscope toward Neela and kissed her lightly on the neck. “I missed you last week. When will you be free again?”
“Soon, I hope. I could use some stress relief.”
“Ouch. After a year, I’d hoped to be more than just stress relief.”
“Sorry. You know what my life is like. Besides, I don’t want the university to pull our funding if they get wind of
our…special friendship.”
“Relationship, Neela. It’s called a relationship. You can’t even say the word. Besides, we’re three years into this project and making great strides. They wouldn’t cut us off if we screwed on the lawn naked in broad daylight.”
“We’re in the conservative South, Liz. I’m pretty sure that would get us fired and maybe banned from working again.” Their friends-with-benefits arrangement worked well for Neela because she didn’t have time to date and Liz was a satisfactory lover. But was satisfactory enough? She hadn’t considered anything personal in so long the thought seemed foreign. She looked through the viewer. “What have you got here?”
“You tell me. I know what I think, but I need another opinion.”
“It looks like some of the stem cells we injected into the spinal-cord specimen have made their way to the injury site. Is that what you’re seeing?”
“Yep. The question now is, will they simply create a healing environment for repair or become part of the repair itself?”
“This is fantastic. Finally some progress.” She hugged Liz and felt her arms tighten around her waist.
“You feel so good. Let’s wrap up and celebrate. I’d really like to be with you tonight.”
“I…shouldn’t,” Neela said.
“We can’t do anything with this at the moment. It takes time. Bina thinks you’re working anyway. We might as well make the best of it.”
“But it’s not right.”
“What difference will another hour make? My place is only five minutes away. You deserve a bit of happiness. Please.”
Liz ran her hands over Neela’s backside and wedged her knee between her legs. She weakened as Liz rocked back and forth. “All right, but I can’t stay long.”
“It won’t take long.”
As she put the specimens away and made the short trip to Liz’s apartment, Neela battled with guilt. She should be at home with Bina, not having sex under the guise of working late. She wasn’t being honest, but she needed this so badly. Sex with Liz was the only physical release she had. She just didn’t have enough time for anything that didn’t come neatly sandwiched between work and home. She was already partially undressed as she walked into Liz’s bedroom.
“Come here and stop worrying.” Liz pulled her onto the bed, rolled on top, and kissed her. “Let me help you forget.”
She tried to release the unpleasant thoughts and immerse herself in the physical. Liz sucked her breasts and Neela felt a tendril of arousal. Next Liz would slide her hand between Neela’s legs and circle her clit in a slow clockwise motion just before slipping her fingers inside. Liz wouldn’t go down on her yet. She always needed a quick release first to dull the urgency. Her technique never varied. It was efficient but hardly inspiring.
Liz’s moans filled the air, and Neela tried to tap into her enthusiasm. She looked at Liz’s face, hoping her arousal would stimulate her as well. But instead of Liz’s green eyes blazing with passion, she saw the startling blue gaze of Jordan Bishop. The slight stirring pounded to life. Fire sparked through her, and she was instantly wet and aching. She closed her eyes and held onto Jordan’s vision as Liz’s fingers entered her. The stress and worries of her life vanished, and she came over and over. “Oh my God.”
Liz pulled her close as her breathing slowly leveled. “Gorgeous. You needed that.”
“You have no idea.”
Chapter Three
Jordan and Bex pulled in front of the ranch-style house in Hamilton Lakes just before six the next morning. The sprawling House Beautiful property had a manicured lawn with a border of azaleas, small carriage house, and a double garage at the end of the driveway.
“Working for the state obviously pays better than city government,” Bex said.
“And who said politicians weren’t corrupt?” Jordan sipped from her travel mug and looked away from the house toward the lake in front. Neela’s home made her long for things she’d never had. The redbrick structure with a tidy yard and shuttered windows symbolized home. “Nice view. Beats the hell out of my empty rented studio flat overlooking the parking garage.”
“I’m sure Neela isn’t on the take. She seems too principled.”
“Oh, it’s Neela now, is it? And how would you know?”
“Shut up. I’m practicing. Told you I could go for that.”
“Shut up.” Jordan repeated their bantering phrase even though she meant it a little more than usual this time. Bex’s reputation with the ladies was nearly as notorious as hers. Between the two of them, they’d bedded almost every eligible woman on the market and some who weren’t.
Harry Styles and Phil Morris, the night-shift officers, pulled up to the driver’s side where Jordan had slumped down sipping her coffee.
“What’s up, guys?” Bex asked.
Phil held the surveillance sheet in front of him and read in an exaggerated show of giving a full report. “Boring as hell. Four coffee runs, three piss breaks, and a doughnut-retrieval operation. Whoever got us assigned to this shit detail owes us big-time. Doctor Sahjani got home shortly before midnight, but somebody else either lives here or stayed overnight.”
“She didn’t mention that.” Bex made a note on their surveillance sheet.
“Surprise, surprise,” Jordan mumbled. Why wouldn’t she live with somebody? She was attractive, accomplished, and gutsy. Women like her didn’t usually sleep alone or remain single for extended periods of time.
“We saw movement inside, and the lights went on and off throughout the house until Sahjani came home. Then everything went dark. How will we coordinate relief? This woman apparently doesn’t keep a regular schedule, and we need to know if we’re driving to Raleigh to relieve you or meeting in Greensboro.”
“I don’t know yet,” Bex said. “We’ll get a better handle on her activities and give you a call later. If we have to, we’ll debrief by cell.”
The guys pulled away and Bex asked, “What do you make of that?”
“Why are you constantly amazed when people aren’t forthcoming about their lives? You’re a police officer, for God’s sake.”
“And why are you always looking for the worst? Guess I prefer to be an optimist.”
The front door of Doctor Sahjani’s house opened, and Jordan nearly spilled her coffee when she jerked upright. She rifled through the glove compartment and looked toward the backseat. “Where are the binoculars?”
“Haven’t gotten them out of the trunk yet. I didn’t think we’d need them so soon.”
Neela, curvy and long-haired, appeared in the doorway wearing slacks and a multi-colored blouse that complemented her mocha complexion. She hefted her suit jacket onto her shoulder and kissed a slightly shorter woman before walking toward her car. Something inside Jordan tightened like an over-wrought spring. She strained for a closer look at the woman left behind, but the door closed too quickly.
“What do you know, the doctor has a girlfriend. No mention of that either,” Jordan said. But they hadn’t specifically asked her that question. And Jordan’s behavior when she met Neela hadn’t exactly promoted trust and sharing. Why would she confide anything about her personal life? But everybody lied, evaded, covered up, or glossed over something. Why should Neela Sahjani be different? A small part of her was glad she wasn’t.
“I knew there was something I liked about her, besides her feisty attitude,” Bex said. “My chances just got better.”
“Not if that’s her partner and she’s actually faithful.” Her voice sounded smug, but Jordan couldn’t help it. She cranked the car and fell in behind Neela as she weaved along the tree-lined streets of the Hamilton Lakes neighborhood.
The hour-and-a-half drive to Neela’s office in Raleigh was like following a race driver around the track, and it reminded Jordan of her years on the motocross circuit. Every time she got close, Neela glanced in her rearview mirror and sped up. Where had she learned to drive like that? Jordan loved the exhilaration of the chase, and the attractive woman behind the
wheel didn’t hurt either.
“She has no idea this is like foreplay for you.”
Jordan let off the gas and Neela’s vehicle pulled away. Bex knew her too well. “You know how much I love games.” The pulsing adrenaline was her drug of choice, and her body thrummed. She tried to stop the arousing thoughts and breathe through the building tension like her therapist, Molly, had suggested, but the exercise did little to blunt the pull.
She’d struggled with her sexual urges for years, trying to reconcile puberty with what felt like a curse to her. She’d had no role model for love or healthy boundaries, so she’d gone from the harsh strictures of her Catholic keepers to promiscuity. A never-ending string of sexual partners seemed perfectly normal. But she had no idea what to do if she met someone who mattered.
“I know you love speed. Combine that with a gorgeous woman, and even I’m getting a little worked up.” Bex slid her hand between her legs. “Oh, yeah, baby. I’m horny.”
“Shut up.” Jordan felt moisture gather uncomfortably in her crotch and grimaced at her failure once again to control her body.
“Can you imagine that woman on the back of your Ducati, legs wrapped around your waist, hand in your jeans? Jesus, I could come just thinking about it.”
“Seriously, shut up.” She squeezed her thighs together and tried to erase the image Bex had planted in her mind.
“Yeah, you’re right. You couldn’t handle a woman like that on the bike. A dog in the road distracts you. I’m glad you didn’t hit him, but you look like a poster child for road rash.”
“Your constant prattle and this rush-hour traffic are making me feel like throwing this thing in the ditch.” She gunned the accelerator, cut a figure S between three cars, and caught up to Neela again. “How much farther?”
“The next exit. We need to find out more about her routines when we get there.”
“You talk to her.”
“Fine by me. The tech guys should’ve installed the cameras last night. Makes our job a lot easier. We can monitor on the tablet from the car. Where will you be?”
