Cruising the Strip (26 page)

Sax pulled her shoulder away when Jude caressed her. “Don’t. Just…” Her hand was shaking as she swiped the tears that had come out of nowhere too fast for her to stop. Every lost and desolate moment of the last three weeks crashed down on her, and she had a soul-destroying image of what life would be if Jude had not come back. “I’m sorry. I can’t…just get in bed. You need to sleep.”

Jude wrapped her arms around Sax’s body from behind, pressing her breasts to Sax’s back and her cheek to Sax’s shoulder. “That’s not what I need. That’s not what I traveled around the world for. Turn around.”

Sax had never been able to say no to Jude, and she couldn’t now either. But she didn’t want her to see what must be in her eyes. Desperation, and devastation. Not quite looking at her, Sax grasped Jude’s hand and led her to the bed. Then she drew her down and pulled the covers to their waists as they faced one another. Stroking wet strands of red hair back from Jude’s cheek, she whispered, “Close your eyes. Sleep will be good for you.”

“When I first got…hurt,” Jude said, her eyes wide and never leaving Sax’s, “the first thing I thought was that I was still alive, and there were others near me who weren’t. I was glad, glad it was them and not me, and part of me knew that was wrong.”

“No,” Sax said, the agony of imagining Jude wounded making her voice sound harsh. “There is no such thing as justice in war. You were lucky, and it’s okay to be glad.”

“And then for awhile I didn’t have time to think at all.” As she went on, Jude caressed Sax’s face and Sax gently stroked Jude’s body, taking care not to disturb the freshly healed wound. “When I got my turn with the medic and he was stitching me up, I thought of all the times I’d filmed you doing the same thing. Saving lives. I missed you so much right then.”

“I would’ve come over there, if I’d known you were hurt.”

Jude smiled and traced her fingertips over Sax’s mouth. “I know. But I really wasn’t in danger. After a few days, I wasn’t even sore. It just looks bad.”

“You forget who I am,” Sax grumbled, capturing Jude’s hand and rubbing it against her cheek. “Don’t try to snow me.”

“Baby, I’ll never forget who you are.” Jude shifted closer, pressing her breasts to Sax’s and tilting her hips until their lower bodies fused. “I’m sorry you were scared.”

“Terrified,” Sax said hoarsely.

“When it was bad,” Jude whispered, “worse than bad, and I felt things inside of me breaking…”

Sax groaned and cradled Jude’s face against her throat, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“I knew,” Jude said, her mouth against Sax’s skin, “you’d heal me.” She tilted her face up, trembling in Sax’s arms. “Please, baby. I don’t need sleep. I don’t need food. I don’t even need you to take the nightmares away. It was hot, always so hot, and I’m still cold. I need you to make me feel again.”

“I need you in order to live,” Sax murmured, gently pushing Jude onto her back. She settled her hips between Jude’s legs and held her body above her, braced on her forearms. “Are you sure you’re not hurting too much?”

“I need you.” Jude wrapped her legs around the back of Sax’s thighs, lifting into her, pressing as tightly as she could. “Inside me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I left there.”

Sax
wanted
to be inside her—inside her body, inside her heart, inside her soul. She wanted to bleed into her, until their very cells were indistinguishable. She wanted her so badly she was afraid. Tenderly, carefully, she spread her fingers through Jude’s tangle of still strangely short hair, and kissed her eyelids, her temples, the corners of her mouth. Jude smelled fresh and clean from the shower, her skin faintly roughened from the wind and sun. Sax traced the edge of Jude’s jaw with the tip of her tongue, then trailed kisses down her neck. The stress of holding back the flash fire burning through her, coupled with her anxiety over going too fast, sent her already on-the-edge nervous system into overdrive. She struggled for breath as her body quivered uncontrollably.

“Oh, baby,” Jude murmured, caressing Sax’s back and ass with long, urgent strokes. “Oh, baby, don’t hold back. You need me. And god, I love that you do.” She knew just how to break Sax’s control, and as she gripped Sax tighter with her legs, she bit down hard on the thick muscle that slanted from Sax’s neck to her shoulder.

“God!” Sax roared, rearing her head back and trying to pull away. “You don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll hurt you!”

“No, you won’t,” Jude said fiercely. “You can’t. Please, please, help me!”

Jude’s tears did what nothing else could. They penetrated the shroud of desperation and fear that had clouded Sax’s mind and heart for weeks. She saw her lover clearly, saw her need, saw her vulnerability. And reflected in her lover’s eyes, she saw herself—slowly dying for want of this woman. Rocking back on her knees, Sax placed her palm between Jude’s breasts and spread her fingers, bracing herself as she brought her other arm between Jude’s legs and entered her. She knew this woman, this body, this flesh that welcomed her, and she buried herself there. Jude bucked off the bed, her voice a strangled scream, and Sax held her down as she thrust into her.

“You feel me?” Sax rasped, the muscles in her chest and arms straining as she held herself in check even as she pushed deeper. She rolled her thumb over Jude’s clitoris until it hardened. “Can you?”

“Yes,” Jude cried, her heels digging into Sax’s legs as she forced herself harder against Sax’s hand. “Deeper, please, deeper. Oh god.”

Sweat dripped from Sax’s face onto Jude’s, mixing with her lover’s tears, as she filled her again and again. Jude strained and writhed beneath her, struggling to climax. Her head whipped from side to side, her breath torn from her in strangled moans.

Jude’s eyes opened wide, her face a mask of agonized need. “I can’t. Oh god, I can’t feel…I can’t…”

Instantly, Sax stilled, panting to pull air into lungs that burned. Her arms trembled, her stomach was rigid with her own need for release, but she forced her voice to be quiet and calm. “It’s okay. Just breathe for a second. Breathe, baby.”

Tears leaked from Jude’s eyes as she gasped for breath, and Sax stretched out beside her, cradling her face against her chest. She stroked her sweat-soaked hair. “It’s okay, baby.”

“I need…Oh god, I feel numb. I can’t and I need…”

Jude’s heart pounded against Sax’s breast, erratic and urgent. Sax cupped Jude’s face and brushed her thumb over Jude’s mouth. “Look at me. Look at me, baby.”

When Jude focused on her, Sax whispered, “Stay with me. Stay right here with me.” Then she reached down and began to stroke her. When Jude whimpered and thrust against her hand, Sax kissed her and whispered again, “Look at me. Just look at me and know I love you more than life.”

“I need you to make me come,” Jude moaned, clinging to Sax’s shoulders, her back arching with the growing pressure. “Need you. Need you so much.”

“I’m here.” Sax felt the rapid pulsations in the swollen flesh beneath her fingers that signaled Jude’s gathering climax. She bore down on Jude’s clitoris, giving her the short, firm strokes she knew she needed to push her over the edge.

Jude closed her eyes, crying out her pleasure, and then Sax filled her again. She turned Jude on her back, riding Jude’s leg as she pushed into her, stroke after deep stroke. Sax came swiftly with her clitoris crushed to Jude’s hard thigh, and Jude came a second time and then a third. Sax didn’t stop until her strength gave out and she collapsed into Jude’s arms.

“You okay?” Sax gasped, unable to raise her head from Jude’s shoulder. She felt Jude weakly caress her neck.

“I will be,” Jude murmured. “I’m here with you. I’m home.”

“So how does it feel in the light of morning?” Alison spooned behind Carolyn, massaging her shoulders gently as the sun slowly illuminated their room.

“I’m still not sure.” Carolyn rolled onto her stomach. “Your hands are wonderful, as always.”

Alison shifted her position, continuing the soft touches with one lazy hand. “I know you’re young for this sort of thing, but then you started out young as a published writer, too.”

“True. I just…” Carolyn stretched out an arm to touch the Lucite statue of an old-fashioned oil lamp that rested on the bedside table. “It’s an award, and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen one.”

There was the tiniest edge of bitterness in Carolyn’s voice, and it pained Alison. “You wouldn’t do it any other way, would you?”

“Of course not.” She snuggled around in Alison’s arms. “I’m glad I came out. I’m glad I’ve been living free. I just feel a little bit young to get the Lamplight Award.”

“You did light the way, and it was very cool that Amelia Wainwright was the one who presented it to you, and I swear, Barrett Lancey had tears in her butch little eyes. They wouldn’t get to be who they are if Carly Vincent, hot new best seller, sweetheart of the twenty-four to thirty-two demographic, hadn’t taken one for the Sappho team all those years ago. There are other people who could have come out, no doubt, but you’re the one that did it.”

“I was waiting on the world to change and it did, I guess. I didn’t lose all my readers.”

“Just the narrow-minded ones, and you weren’t writing for them anyway. I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I don’t.” The eyes that gazed up at Alison were the clear blue she’d lost her heart to at least two decades ago. “I might whine a little sometimes, but I don’t regret it.”

“God, you feel good this morning.” Alison breathed in the cologne, the shampoo, the wonderful blend of scents that equaled Carolyn to her. “I loved dancing with you last night.”

“Me too you.” Carolyn burrowed into Alison’s shoulder. “It was a fun evening, even if Farrah Fotheringay was hitting on you.”

“Was not. She’s straight. She probably just wants a new agent.”

“No, she was after the hottest woman in the room.” Carolyn twisted a lock of Alison’s hair around her finger. “I love the way your hair is changing color, silver and platinum threads all woven in.”

Alison smoothed her love’s short curls and turned the adorable face up so she could see it. All these years and it was still like waking up to sunshine. Sleepy eyes blinked at her.

“I love you.”

“You’re just saying that.” Carolyn stretched.

“Why would I just make it up after all this time?”

“Because you want to have your way with me.”

Alison cupped one alluring breast under the covers. It firmed at her touch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was late last night, and I recall being promised something if I wore those thigh-high stockings that get you all hot and bothered. But alas, all I remember were some vague mumbles about wine and the hour.” Carolyn’s light tone was at odds with the small arch of her back in response to the tip of Alison’s finger lightly stroking under her nipple.

“Then I need to make it up to you, don’t I?”

“I would think so.”

“Okay.” Alison threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. “How about a nice breakfast?”

“Get back in this bed this instant.” Carolyn gave her a wry look.

“Oh, so you want breakfast in bed.”

Carolyn dissolved into laughter. “Honey, I want to
be
breakfast in bed.”

“My thought exactly.”

She began with slow kisses along Carolyn’s calves, eliciting a soft, encouraging sigh. She would never get enough of the taste of Carolyn’s skin, and lazily worked her way up the welcoming, curvaceous body. It made sense to get out of her nightshirt then, and use her breasts to massage Carolyn’s thighs.

A long, rising moan rewarded her efforts and Alison stretched out so their bodies could meet in the full delight of skin-on-skin.

“Ally,” Carolyn breathed. “You’ve got some kind of magic hands.”

“Tell that to my teammates. I drop any more fly balls and—”

Carolyn pressed her fingertips to Alison’s mouth. “Why on earth are you talking about softball at this moment?”

“Cause mostly…I’m an idiot.”

The little laugh they shared was intimate and ended with the kind of kiss that reminded Alison of the backseat of Carolyn’s old Mustang convertible. Now was not the time to admit she was having a fast food craving. Other cravings took precedence.

“Close your eyes,” Alison whispered. “Think about Melissa and the concert tonight and the backstage passes your fabulous agent got you.”

Carolyn laughed again. “I thought they were a birthday gift from my girlfriend.”

Alison kissed away the laughter—she loved doing that. Making her Carrie laugh and then moan ever so slightly. Every time they shared this dance it had all the fever and fireworks of their first time, combined with layers of familiarity. There was still plenty of mystery, but no terror of doing something wrong or too hard or too soft. Make her laugh, and kiss the smiles. She could do this all morning.

She did do it all morning, as it turned out. No doubt Carolyn would have the right metaphor for the way her body was melting over the bed, spreading like warm honey, only not so sticky and leaving a less romantic soul to wonder who was going to clean all that up.

“More, Ally, please…”

Those were Alison’s favorite words.