Wild Things (23 page)

"How ridiculous," I said. I was hard pressed to keep up with her rapid stride. "It isn't true."

"Truth hardly matters in politics," she said sulkily, then snapped her hand up to catch the attention of a passing cab.

"I'm surprised you sully yourself with it," I said dryly, but she didn't hear me as she got into the cab.

We rode back to the hotel in silence. The city seemed quiet under the blanket of fog. The buildings had soft corners, and the streetlights were surrounded by iridescent halos.

I didn't know what I had expected from the evening, but it had certainly gone places I hadn't anticipated. I knew I didn't want it to be over, but I couldn't think of a way to prolong it. I didn't want to say good-bye even though an instinct for self-preservation told me I had to.

Sydney was definitely brooding about the encounter with Angie. I had the urge to tease her out of her mood, but it was hardly my place to do so. After all, I wasn't her girlfriend. Not even a friend, when it came right down to it.

"Thank you for dinner," I said as we reached the hotel elevator. "It was lovely."

"You're welcome," she said, automatically. 'I'm glad you enjoyed it."

We got on the elevator and she pressed 10 after I pressed 12. "Isn't this where I say let's do it again sometime?"

She blinked at me and then smiled a little. "I don't mean to end our evening on a down note. I feel petty. It shouldn't upset me so much."

"I could cheer you up and tell you how nice Eric was when I told him." It was a lame suggestion, but she nodded after a moment's pause. I got off the elevator with her on her floor. She had one of the corner suites with a large sitting room and a sizable table that she was using as her desk.

"May I get you something to drink?" she offered as I took off my coat. She opened the minibar and came up with a Diet Coke. "There's another one of these in here."

"Sure," I said. I don't really like soda very much, but I was to the point where I'd have drunk Drano to stay with her. My ears were ringing; I was starting to feel like I had the night of the costume party. If I had my way, the evening would end with her hands on me, in me. I flushed as I imagined my mouth on her.

Thankfully, she didn't look at me as she sat down in the room's other guest chair. "So how did he take it?" She sipped her soda and studied the carpet.

"He was sweet," I said, then described my talk with Eric as best I could. "And after dinner he gave me this," I said, holding out my right hand.

She took my fingertips in her hand and pulled them under the light. "How unusual," she said, examining the ring Eric had given me. It fit perfectly on my little finger.

"I wasn't going to take it at first, but he told me it was something he'd seen and knew it was meant for me. He seemed genuinely upset when I said I really shouldn't accept it, so I changed my mind. I felt like wearing it when I looked at the tapestries." The ring was a wide gold band, heavily engraved and very old. He admitted it had been expensive, but the way he said it I was certain I didn't want to know how expensive.

"It is very unusual, and he was right. It is very you," she said. "Are those peacocks?" She turned my hand over.

"It's a traditional medieval engraving pattern."

"It does suit you," Sydney said. Her breath whispered over my palm and I controlled a shudder. "He guessed your ring size pretty well. Very perceptive of him. I'm not sure many men could guess accurately."

"Why not?" She didn't let go of my hand, and I certainly wasn't going to pull it away.

"They're not lesbians," she murmured. "Do they stop to think about the size of a woman's fingers? They might notice their overall shape, maybe whether they're tapered or square. But they wouldn't know their individual characters because they don't think about them as..." her voice trailed away.

After a full minute of silence, I gently said, "Sydney? Come back."

She looked up slowly. "Faith," she whispered. Her eyes looked feverish. "Help me."

"Tell me how," I said, alarmed. I tried to pull my hand away, but her grip on it tightened.

She looked down at my hand, then slowly brought it to her lips. "I think about your hands, how small they are, but how strong your fingers seem. How you keep your nails short and you don't wear nail polish—"

The brush of her lips on my open palm shot a tingle of electricity through me. "Sydney, what are you doing?"

"And I can imagine how they might feel on me," she said, as if I hadn't spoken. She looked up again, her lips parted. "And in me. I wanted you so much that night. I haven't stopped wanting you."

She kissed my palm, and waves of sensation made me gasp. It was nothing like when Renee had
touched me. This was sweeter. I could feel the pulse of Sydney's heartbeat. I felt the pulse in my throat race to match hers.

"How can I help you, Sydney? Tell me what you want."

"I don't know what I want," she said. She kissed my wrist. "I'm in a bad way for you," she said huskily. "I don't think I could say no to anything tonight."

She kissed my palm again, then lightly trailed the tip of her tongue over it. My heart thumped painfully. Amazing that such a simple caress could focus every nerve in my body on such a small patch of skin.

"Take me to bed, Faith." Sydney slowly stood and pulled me up with her. "I won't be able to think until you do. I can't believe I feel like this. I can't help myself."

To my horror, a tear trickled down her cheek. I pulled her close. "Don't, darling, don't."

"I don't want to lose control like this," she muttered into my shoulder. "I promised myself I wouldn't."

"I'll go if you want."

"No," she gasped. "I meant it. Take me to bed." She led me by the hand into the bedroom and began unbuttoning her shirt. When the third button wouldn't come undone, she pulled the shirt over her head. She captured my hands and brought them to her breasts. With a deft motion she unhooked her bra and pulled it away so my hands were stroking her bare flesh.

I was pulled into the whirlpool of her passion. She finished undressing, her movements urgent. She
turned away for a moment and threw back the bedclothes. She pulled me down onto her. My body finally began to move and whatever might have been long frozen in me melted into her need.

"I don't want to be like this," Sydney whispered in my ear.

I whispered back, "Like what?"

"Needing something so much I can't live without it. Please . . . please touch me."

She was already bringing herself against my hip with urgent pressure. I reverently stroked her bare thigh. It had been so long since I'd felt another woman's skin against my fingertips like this. I started to lower my head to kiss her thigh, but she caught me and pulled me to her for a close, deep kiss.

"Hold me," she said. "Hold me while you take me. I need to know it's you."

"It's me, Syd," I said as I slipped my hand between her clenched thighs. "Relax, darling. I want this as much as you do."

"Hurry," she whispered.

This was a side of Sydney I would never have thought existed, a side that intoxicated me. My head swam as she slowly parted her thighs to my seeking fingers. I wished that I'd stopped to take off my clothes, but remembered how Renee had sometimes liked me to be naked while she was dressed. Until this moment I had not understood how powerful it must have made her feel. I certainly felt it, and the emotion brought a new pounding to my already throbbing body.

Sydney moaned, bringing me back to the here and now, her silky wetness on the very tips of my fin
gers. I realized I had terrible power over her in that moment, and I could have made her do anything. I stroked her slowly, and she gasped.

I wouldn't make her do anything. I would let her tell me, lead me, into giving her what she needed.

"Please, Faith." She looked up at me, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll beg if you want me to. I'm too far gone to be proud."

"Tell me what you want. I'm out of practice."

"I want to feel you inside me."

''Yes," I whispered. My fingertips were drowning in her wetness. She shuddered and her hands left my shoulders to guide me farther into her.

We were beyond words after that. We moved toward her climax with fevered kisses and murmurs of encouragement. She clutched me to her as she peaked, holding a cry back in her throat until her shaking wrung it out of her in short bursts. I rested my head on her breast, breathing hard and wanting so much to do it all again.

The thought must have crossed her mind because she smiled slightly as she moved her hips, drawing in a long, pleased breath.

"That was rather nice," she said, closing her eyes. "I don't know why I thought it would hurt me."

I raised my head to smile softly at her. "Sex is one of the nine reasons for reincarnation. The other eight are unimportant."

"Henry Miller," she murmured. Her contented smile slowly faded and she opened her eyes. She raised her head to kiss me. "I thought I'd hate having you see me like this."

"How could I hate it?" My hungry gaze swept down her body.

"Because I hate myself when I'm weak," she said. She arched her back and sighed as my fingers began to stroke her again. "It took me a long time to find my backbone."

"This isn't weakness. It takes too much strength to admit what we want. Don't hate it," I said. "Not when I love it so much. You're like touching fire." I couldn't find any words, so I brushed my wet fingers across her breasts, then returned to her soft, eager wetness.

"Yes, again," she murmured. "And then ... when I catch my breath..." She gazed up at me and vertigo swept over me. Her lips were parted and the curve of her mouth was a promise.

She made good her promise, slowly removing my clothes and kissing my trembling skin when it was bared. She understood that my whimpers as she made love to my breasts meant I wanted more.

Her descent was excruciatingly slow. Somehow she knew that was what I wanted, to climb to another, headier level of desire that could only be satisfied by her mouth on me. I found myself begging, and she teased me further. I hadn't thought to ever let another human being see my need again. Renee had used it to satisfy her own first. But Sydney was intent on my pleasure as she flicked her tongue lightly over me. I saw a fierce, joyful expression cross her face when I responded with a shudder of ecstasy.

And then her mouth was on me, and I felt my body rising as the years of denial surged into a single certainty and unshakable self-knowledge. This was what I was, what I wanted. Another woman to make love to me.

As my body writhed in response, her hands grip
ping me as she used her lips, her tongue, her teeth to bring me to a shattering climax, I knew that I wanted more. I wanted this woman, for always.

* * * * *

I struggled out of the fog of sleep and groped around me for a blanket to cover us. The sheets were on the floor along with most of the pillows.

"Ummm," she said sleepily, shifting her position so her head was no longer on my arm. "I'm starving.

"Me, too, but I'm more cold."

"Let's see what's in the minibar. I think I saw some cheese." She padded into the outer room. I followed after wrapping myself in a sheet.

The light from the small refrigerator illuminated the body I'd worshiped so thoroughly for several hours. She closed the door, but the image remained burned into my retinas.

"Want some of these?" She flipped on the light over the bar and turned to face me with a can of nuts in one hand. She froze, and across the few feet that separated us we shared a moment of complete understanding. She put down the can and sank down into the chair behind her. I let the sheet fall as I took the two steps necessary to reach her, sinking to my knees to taste her again.

* * * * *

We settled down to sleep in the middle of the floor with the sheet wrapped around us. I was too tired to move.

"Enough, Faith? Sydney nuzzled my ear.

"Ummm," I said sleepily.

"That's not an answer," she said, and one hand began lazily stroking my breast. It was not a noise of protest that escaped my throat when she slipped the same lazy hand between my thighs again.

"Never enough," I whispered, hoping she was too intent on arousing me again to hear me. "I'll never get enough of you."

* * * * *

"Not as good as last night," Carmen said, "but still right on. You seem a little distracted, and I can guess why."

Sydney took note of the smirk on Carmen's face and decided not to ask. "I'm glad that's the last speech for me. I've only got the moderating on tomorrow's panel left."

"Sleep would help," Carmen said, her smirk deepening. "You probably didn't get much."

"Carmen," Sydney protested. "Don't."

"Too soon to tease you? I mean you brought her with you so it must be serious."

"I didn't bring her with me," Sydney protested. "Really. We met by accident." Then she blushed, something she hadn't done for years.