by Carsen Taite
She led the way to her bedroom, uncharacteristically unconcerned her bed was unmade and she’d left her clothes in a pile on a chair. She felt both confident and reckless, not knowing where this night would lead, but excited to find out. When they crossed the threshold to her room, she reached for Starr’s sweater and pulled it over her head, sucking in a breath at the sight of her ivory skin against the burgundy demi cup bra. She traced her fingers along the edges of the satin trim before dipping her head and following the path of her fingers with her tongue, stroking gently at first and then more rapidly as her hunger grew. When Starr sagged against her, she lifted her head and gazed into Starr’s dazed eyes. “Are you okay?”
Starr cleared her throat. “Okay? No. Unbelievably aroused? Absolutely.” Starr reached for the ties on her robe and twisted them loose. She ran her hands up underneath Catherine’s tank top, and traced her thumbs across her nipples. Catherine gasped for breath and pressed closer. Starr leaned in and whispered in her ear, “That right there. That is what you do to me.”
Catherine caught Starr’s lips between her own. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so aroused.” She hesitated a moment before venturing a more vulnerable truth. “Maybe never.”
“I want to do whatever makes you feel good.” Starr’s hands remained on her breasts, but still now. “I want you to be comfortable.”
Comfortable. Catherine rolled the word around in her head, trying to figure out what exactly about it bothered her. Starr cared about her feelings, her comfort, her well-being. Her tender gestures should be soothing and welcome, but instead Catherine felt slightly agitated, and fairly certain comfort was the opposite of what she craved. Dr. M’s words from their last session echoed. Without risk there’s no reward. The thing to remember is that your reward gets to be whatever you want it to be.
Suddenly, she knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted Starr in every way possible, from tender touches to wild abandon, but right now she wanted to put aside the role of victim and take complete charge of everything that was about to happen between them. She reached up and placed her hands over Starr’s, motioning for her to resume her touch. “I don’t want to be comfortable. I want to feel every inch of your hot, naked skin sliding over mine, and I want us both to be so aroused we’re on the verge of exploding. I want to come with you, again and again, for the rest of the night, to hell with the rest of the world.” She paused and met Starr’s darkened gaze. “That is what would make me feel good.”
Starr answered by stepping back and removing the rest of her clothes. Catherine watched intently, savoring every moment. When Starr was finally naked, she stepped back into Catherine’s arms and pushed the robe from her shoulders. Before it hit the floor, Starr had pulled the tank over Catherine’s head and was running her hand along the inside of Catherine’s boxers. “I want to make you feel all kinds of things,” she said.
Catherine grabbed Starr’s hand and led her to the bed. She gently pushed Starr back against the covers. “Me first.” She bent down and slowly ran her tongue from Starr’s navel to her chest, shuddering with pleasure when Starr arched up into her touch. She marveled at Starr’s trust, her vulnerability, since she’d always guarded her own trust like treasure. Feeling Starr respond so readily to her touch brought with it a rush of confidence, and all the powerlessness she’d felt since Pratt had surfaced fell away like outdated armor. In this moment, with this amazing woman, she had complete and total control outside of the persona she projected, and it felt good. No, better than good. It felt amazing.
She took her time, lavishing Starr’s breast with attention, slowly, but with increasing pressure. Encouraged by Starr’s writhing body, Catherine reached down and brushed the back of her hand against Starr’s thigh before running her fingers through her slick sex. She mirrored the attention with Starr’s breasts, thrilled at the way Starr began to buck beneath her.
“You’re incredible,” Starr whispered, punctuated by a groan of arousal. “I’m so close.”
Catherine slowed her pace. “Should we slow down?”
Starr clutched her wrist. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can hang on much longer.”
Catherine spent a split second wavering between giving Starr what she wanted and taking her time to enjoy a slower build, but ultimately she decided power could be used to bestow or to control, and she didn’t have to choose. She stretched her body upward and faced Starr. The trust, the vulnerability was still there, but now there was something else. Something powerful and wild.
Desire.
Starr wanted her fiercely—it was clear in the dark, urgent hunger reflected in her eyes. Catherine had no idea what her own expression told Starr, but she was desperate to show her that she desired her too, and with the same level of intensity. She leaned down and brushed her lips against Starr’s, and murmured, “Are you ready to let go?”
Seconds later, as Starr’s body rose to meet hers and then shuddered with orgasm, Catherine experienced the most incredible sense of release, and she too was ready to let go of a past that had held her captive to explore wherever this passionate journey with Starr might lead.
* * *
Starr woke to the sound of a phone buzzing and found Catherine’s head tucked into her shoulder. She liked the sensation of waking up with Catherine nestled next to her, and willed whoever was calling to go away.
“What is it?” Catherine murmured, her eyes still closed.
She kissed Catherine’s cheek. “Nothing.” She reached for the phone, wishing it was true, but the text was from Fred Nelson. Meeting in Murphy’s office at nine. Crap.
“Tell me you don’t have to go.”
Starr looked down at Catherine, her eyes now open and filled with a hopeful expression, and for the first time she could remember, she wished she could set aside duty for pleasure. Last night had been amazing. From the moment Catherine had taken control, she’d surrendered to the pleasure of powerlessness—not at all her normal role—but one she’d relished more than she thought possible. A flash of Catherine bent over her, lavishing her with ardent strokes of her hands and tongue, sent heat surging through her entire body, and it was as if the ripple of their last orgasm was lingering still.
She let the feeling last for a moment while she contemplated what her life might be like if she hadn’t spent it being entirely focused on her career. Perhaps she could’ve met someone like Catherine, smart, accomplished, beautiful, years ago, and settled down into a normal life where she wasn’t always on call and didn’t have to deal with the gruesome side of life on a regular basis. Where she would have a sexy, passionate lover to come home to each and every night.
But she’d chosen differently, and as much as she wanted to stay here, tangled in the sheets with Catherine Landauer, she had a job to do, and it was bigger than her and her desire for her own pleasure. “I wish I could stay.”
Catherine slipped out of her embrace and drew slightly away. “I get it. Can you tell me anything?”
Starr hesitated for a second before deciding Catherine deserved to know something about the case that had plagued her her entire life. “A patrol cop spotted Pratt at a convenience store in Montopolis last night and followed him to a house down the block. While we were scoping out the house, Hannah Turner showed up at the south substation. She couldn’t tell us much. She’d been picked up by a man in a white pickup and taken somewhere. She was blindfolded the whole time and can’t ID her abductor. At some point, he drove her to a spot in the woods and dumped her and she managed to find her way to a nearby farmhouse and the owners brought her in.”
“That doesn’t sound like enough to arrest Pratt. How did you manage to get a warrant?”
Starr ducked her head, contemplating the best approach. “We arrested him on the outstanding warrant for your kidnapping and your mother’s murder.” She saw Catherine tense up, and she rushed to explain. “It’s enough to hold him until we can sort out what happened with Hannah. I know in my gut he kidnapped her, it’s just a
matter of getting him to confess or trip up. Besides, you and your mother deserve justice for what happened to you.” She didn’t bother telling Catherine about the ID with Stevens’ name or that he’d refused to say a word after his arrest or that they hadn’t found any evidence at the house to tie him to any crime. Instead she reached for her phone and pulled up Pratt’s photo, wishing she could avoid this, especially now, but knowing it was necessary if they ever wanted closure on Catherine’s past. “I can show you his picture if you want.”
Catherine nodded slowly and reached for the phone. Starr waited patiently while Catherine examined it from all angles, hoping she wasn’t causing Catherine additional trauma by exposing her to this step of the process.
“It’s been a long time,” Catherine said and her voice carried the slight lilt of a question. “But it’s him.”
Starr breathed a sigh of relief at the definitive response. “We’re meeting this morning to review strategy.” She reached out for Catherine’s hand and pulled it to her lips, kissing her softly and injecting all the confidence she could muster into her words. “Trust me, we got this.”
“I trust you.”
Three little words, but Starr felt the portent behind them. The list of people Catherine Landauer trusted was likely very short, and Starr was proud to be among them. She vowed that she would do everything in her power to prove she was worthy of Catherine’s trust. First step, leave this warm bed and meet with her boss to figure out the next steps. “I have to go.”
“I know.” Catherine leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. “Call me when you can?”
“Absolutely.” Starr squeezed her hand. “What are you going to do today?”
“I suppose I should go back to work now that Pratt’s in custody. How long do you think I have before word gets out that I’m Jill Winfield?”
Right. Starr hadn’t contemplated the publicity storm that would descend as soon as the press got wind that Jill Winfield’s kidnapper had been caught. They would only be able to shield Catherine from exposure for so long before her testimony would be necessary to put Pratt away for the rest of his life. Starr only hoped that before that happened, they would be able to find enough evidence to charge him with Hannah Turner’s case and then Catherine might not have to be exposed to all the scrutiny that went with a public trial. “As long as I can manage.”
Catherine nodded. “Fair enough.” She stared deep into Starr’s eyes. “And when will I see you again?”
Starr stared back, ignoring the voice in the back of her brain whispering that Catherine was now a witness in a major case, and they had no business seeing each other on a personal level, at least not until Pratt was behind bars for good. She’d worked her whole life to see justice done, no matter what steps she’d had to take to accomplish the ends. Why should now be any different? Was putting Pratt away more important than hanging on to the incredible way Catherine caused her to come alive? She didn’t know the answer, but she did know that she wasn’t ready to give up on whatever this was growing between them. “As soon as I can manage.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Catherine said, leaning back into her favorite chair in Dr. M’s office. She was midway through her session and she was well aware she’d mostly rambled away her time. “Things are going well. Pratt’s in custody. Hannah Turner’s safe and sound.”
Dr. M nodded. “You seem a little agitated.”
“Well, that’s normal, right? I mean, I’ve spent my whole life looking over my shoulder. Suddenly, there’s no longer any need to hide, but it’s like I’m two different people. The little girl who was powerless and the adult who spent her life protecting her. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Maybe you’re both. And that’s okay. Jill is safe now, and Catherine can finally have a life.”
Catherine picked at a piece of lint on her pants while she contemplated Dr. M’s assessment. “I want to. Have a life that is. I don’t ever remember feeling that way before. I’ve spent all these years merely existing.”
“It’s natural that you’re hesitant. There’s no rush.”
The word rush caused Catherine to slip into a memory of last night in bed with Starr. She’d been in a hurry to embrace their attraction, and also in the mood to slowly savor every minute of their love-making. She’d never experienced anything like the passion they’d shared, and all she could think about was doing it again and how devastated she’d feel if she couldn’t. She blamed her euphoria for the words that spilled out. “I slept with Starr Rio last night. It was amazing, but I don’t have a clue what comes next.” She delivered the statement without making eye contact, certain that if she witnessed Dr. M’s reaction firsthand, she’d lose her nerve, but once the words were out, she slowly raised her head and met Dr. M’s surprisingly neutral expression. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
Dr. M cleared her throat. “Wow.”
Catherine felt a smile slide across her lips, pleased to have elicited the reaction. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I felt.”
“I’d ask you how you feel about it, but it’s pretty clear you’re happy.”
Catherine paused before answering. She was happy—a level of happy she didn’t think she’d ever felt before, and while the emotion excited her, it scared her too. “No judgment?”
“Do you really think I sit here judging you, ever?” Dr. M didn’t wait for an answer. “Look, I can tell you’re happy, but I can also tell you have other feelings as well. Do you want to talk about them?”
Like always, Dr. M had honed right in on the crux of the issue. Yes, she was happy. Ecstatic even, but like any bits of happiness in her life, they were mixed up with other feelings: uncertainty, caution, fear. The difference now was that she wasn’t focused on what might go wrong, only on the possibility that she might have a future where she could be with someone who knew and accepted her for everything she was. “I do have other feelings, but I don’t want to talk about them. Not right now, anyway. Right now, I’d like to stick with happy.”
Dr. M smiled. “Fair enough. I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
A few minutes later, Catherine pulled out of the parking lot of Dr. M’s office building, feeling for the first time in her life like there might be an end to her therapy. Not now of course, but someday. In the meantime, she was ready to embrace whatever came next, and she hoped Starr was a part of it.
She reached for her phone to check and see if Starr had texted any updates, or really just texted anything at all. The blank screen left her feeling somewhat disappointed, but she refused to let it quell her mood. She would go to the office and occupy her mind with work until she heard from Starr. For the first time she could remember, the idea of work took a back burner to what she really wanted to do.
* * *
Starr paused at Murphy’s door and stared at the second text in a row from Pearson. Like the first one, it simply said, Call me. She briefly considered complying, but she was already a few minutes late for this meeting, so she made a mental note to contact Pearson as soon as she was done. She entered Murphy’s office without knocking, a first for her, but she figured she deserved some deference for having helped apprehend Hannah Turner’s kidnapper. What she didn’t expect was the stern look on Murphy’s face and the smirk on Nelson’s when she entered the room.
“Sit down,” Murphy said, pointing to the chair directly in front of his desk.
“What’s going on?” Starr asked, ignoring his command.
“How about you tell us?” Nelson said. “Not only did you authorize an arrest for a suspect over whom we don’t have any jurisdiction or evidence, but then you spent the night with the only witness in the case against Pratt. Would you like to explain?”
Starr’s stomach fell, and she suddenly knew why Pearson had been trying to reach her. She should’ve known the patrol unit assigned to watch Catherine would’ve reported any unusual activity, and a prosecutor staying the night definitely constitute
d unusual. How could she have been so stupid? A couple of hours ago, she’d celebrated her ability to finally let her personal life take precedence over her professional life. Would she have celebrated if she’d known how quickly her career dreams would come tumbling down around her?
Damn it. She’d handle this the same way she handled everything else in her life—head-on. “I don’t have anything to explain. I went to Catherine Landauer’s house to talk to her about the case.”
“And that took all night?” Nelson said, his tone incredulous.
“It took as long as it took.” She met his stare with as much defiance as she could muster. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Because if you’re personally involved with the only witness who claims that Pratt is our guy, then we’ve got a huge conflict.” Nelson turned to Murphy. “If it were up to me, I’d replace her right now.”
Starr started to protest, but Murphy spoke first. “Let’s dial things back a bit,” he said in his well-practiced politician’s way of trying to balance all sides. “Starr, is there anything I should worry about here?”
She had a choice and it was a big one. If she were in Murphy’s position and one of her prosecutors had just slept with a witness, she’d remove them from the case without a second thought. But she wasn’t just any prosecutor. She was a star player, and she’d spent her entire life dedicated to putting criminals behind bars. Murphy had to know she would never intentionally jeopardize an investigation. But no matter what her intention, she had placed this prosecution in jeopardy, and apparently her indiscretion was about to not only cost her this case, but it could potentially tank her chance to take over Murphy’s job. Nelson was staring at her waiting for her to answer, and she knew he was salivating, but she couldn’t lie. She had to come clean and trust that Murphy would believe that she hadn’t compromised her ability to handle this case. She took a deep breath. “May we have a moment alone?”
