Bliss (4 page)

Her tongue felt too heavy to speak. Yes, it was sudden. But
she felt more in these past three days than she ever had with
Yuen. Sinclair didn't want to say any of that out loud. It was
too cruel.

"Sinclair. You have to know how insane this sounds. A
week ago everything was fine. We were making plans for a
weekend upstate."

"You were making plans for a weekend upstate. I wanted
to stay home."

"But you always want to stay home. That's why I always
make plans for us."

"Maybe that's the problem."

"You know what, Sinclair? This is bullshit. You'll come to
your senses in a little while." He slid her a look. "Have you
slept with her yet?"

"That's none of your business, Yuen."

He looked intrigued by the possibility of it, then shrugged.
"Call me in a few days. Take time to sort this out. I'll be here
for you." He moved to kiss her, but seemed to think better of
it. "Call me." Then he left.

Sinclair collapsed against the closed door with a tremulous
sigh. She felt limp and exhausted. Still, her mouth curved in a
bittersweet smile. In two days, she would see Regina.

Regina called Sinclair on Sunday morning. "Where do you
live?"

She came over with strawberries, whipped cream, sliced
peaches, mangoes, and lychees. Her body looked delectable
in a black jumpsuit that showed off her lean length and high,
round ass. "I hope you haven't eaten yet."

"I have, but my Gram said that there's always room for
dessert."

"Don't bring your grandmother into this. She probably
wouldn't approve of what I have in mind for you."

Regina glanced briefly around the apartment, at its high
ceilings, tasteful furniture, and spectacular view, before focusing fully on Sinclair. "Let's get you in the shower."

She was soft all over, despite her leanness, and eager as a
puppy to play with Sinclair, to slide the soft fruit inside her
and suck it out in loud, juicy slurps. Regina approved of
Sinclair's bed. Its size and softness were apparently perfect for what she had in mind, although it had never been this
sticky before. When all the gasping was done, she lay beside
Sinclair, staring at her while trailing still-wet fingers over
Sinclair's skin in long, lazy sweeps. Sinclair could almost see
the tape recorder in her mind, making note of this scene.
Fodder for her next book.

"Is the book you're working on essays or fiction?" Sinclair
asked.

"Essays, of course. I could never get the hang of fiction.
Too many lies." Regina leaned down and licked Sinclair's
nipple. Her breath caught. "You're very responsive. I like
that." Regina bent to show her just how much she liked it.

t lunchtime Sinclair looked with distaste at the apple
.she'd brought for lunch. She wasn't looking forward to
takeout either.

The phone buzzed. "Miss Sinclair?"

"Yes, Shelly?"

"You have a visitor. Ms. Velasquez."

A smile replaced her grimace. "Send her in. And go ahead
and take your lunch now."

Regina walked in, delectable in a salmon-colored Yves
Saint Laurent suit that came barely halfway down her thighs,
and closed the door. She held a picnic basket in a manicured
hand.

"I knew you did something expensive for the company,"
Regina drawled as she took in the plush carpeting, the dizzying view of the street, and smog-dimmed sunlight arcing
through the large windows. "Hope you haven't eaten yet."
She didn't wait for a response. Instead she set up a blanket on
the floor, laid out wineglasses, a plate piled high with sliced
fruit and tiny sandwiches with the crusts meticulously cut
off. "Come."

Sinclair kicked off her shoes and obediently sat down on
the blanket. Getting used to their intimacy now, she slid her
hands in Regina's heavy hair and inhaled her scent. Today it was Lalique laced with a hint of sweetness-peach-scented
soap-and underneath that her own spicy ginger scent.

"It's good to see you," Sinclair said. All day her senses had
been alive with expectation. Waiting for this moment, even
though its coming had never been a certainty.

Regina poured from a bottle of pinot noir. "I have a meeting later on this afternoon with my editor. I figured, why not
steal some fun out of this business trip downtown?"

Sinclair smiled. "Do you come downtown often?" She felt
like a fifteenyear-old on her first date, giddy and obscenely
happy.

"If you'll let me, I'll come at least two times today." She
sipped her wine and met Sinclair's gaze. The accountant's
nipples pebbled noticeably under her blouse.

"Have a sandwich," said Regina. "I bought them myself.
The ones on white bread are chicken salad, the wheat are
tuna."

Sinclair nibbled on a chicken salad sandwich though she
could have easily put the tiny square in her mouth whole.
Regina dropped a slice of strawberry in her wineglass and bit
into another.

"Your secretary is a sexy little thing. Have you fucked her
yet?" Her eyes teased Sinclair. She knew very well that she
was the only woman Sinclair had slept with. But maybe she
didn't. Maybe she assumed that just because she fucked indiscriminately that everyone else did too.

"No," Sinclair said. "Not yet."

Regina's eyebrows peaked. "So does that mean you've
thought about it?"

"Of course. Shelly has a beautiful body. Her breasts are
the perfect size. Who wouldn't think about being with her?"
Sinclair was playing a dangerous game. If there was one
thing she knew about Regina already it was that she liked a
challenge. Sinclair didn't put it past her to invite Shelly in to
join them. She hoped that her secretary had already left for
lunch.

"Really. What about my breasts?" She unbuttoned her
blouse and left it open to frame her smooth caramel skin in
foam green silk. She didn't wear a bra. She didn't have to.
Her breasts were like two alert sentries, brown tipped and
hard. Done with her posing, Regina slid off her blouse and
crawled to where Sinclair sat.

"Are these the perfect size?" She straddled Sinclair, moving closer until her small breasts were a mere breath away
from her lover's mouth. Her skirt rode up until it barely covered her ass.

"They're perfect." Sinclair leaned in to kiss a nipple, but
Regina pulled away. "Let me see yours first."

Hadn't she seen them enough yesterday? Still, Sinclair
quickly pulled off her blouse and bra.

"Eager, aren't you? Lie down." She grinned down at
Sinclair. "Now, these are perfect. They only need one thing to
make them to my taste." She slowly emptied her glass of
wine over Sinclair's chest, dribbling the pale cool liquid down
her collarbone and the hard brown nipples. Sinclair gasped
at the sensation of cold then moaned at the first touch of
Regina's mouth. The smaller woman's tongue, like wet velvet, slid over her sensitized breasts. Regina licked her until all
the wine was gone from her skin, then she crushed a strawberry in her fist and dripped the juice over Sinclair's lips.
Sinclair opened her mouth to lick at the red drops, thirsty for
anything that Regina had to give.

Regina kissed her once, a hungry sweep of her mouth that
took away most of the red liquid and whetted Sinclair's appetite. Then she pulled Sinclair's skirt up to her waist and
pulled her panties completely off.

"One day I'm going to train you not to wear these things."
She mashed the pulpy remains of the strawberry against
Sinclair's cunt and started to eat.

A surprised breath left Sinclair's throat. Her skin goosepimpled in a hot flush and she blinked uncontrollably at the
ceiling as her body went up in flames under Regina's ruthless mouth. Deep inside, she trembled. The muscles in her thighs
groaned as she whimpered, burned, and pushed herself more
firmly against her lover. No one had ever.... Breath hissed
past her teeth as all thought left her. She became animal and
seeking, a needy thing caught in the twisting vines of Regina's
desire. Against her flesh, Regina laughed.

She walked out of Sinclair's office nearly forty minutes
later, her blanket folded neatly on top of the picnic basket,
her clothes and hair in perfect order. Sinclair, however, was a
trembling mess. Even after a quick shower in her tiny attached washroom, and a cup of herbal tea, her fingers still refused to hit the right keys on the computer. Eventually she
gave up and spent the next hour staring out the window and
trying unsuccessfully to keep the smile from her face.

i arly Sunday morning the phone woke Sinclair. "Yes?" she
croaked.

"Meet me at Francesco's for breakfast in an hour." The
dial tone punctuated the unexpected command.

She sat up, rubbing her face. Then she realized what this
meant. Regina could play with her this weekend. Within less
than an hour Sinclair was showered, shaved, and waiting at a
corner table in the neighborhood restaurant when Regina
walked in.

"'Morning, sexy." Regina's eyes wandered with approval
over Sinclair's blue floral sundress with its cleavage-enhancing
neckline.

When she sat down, Sinclair pulled Regina's head briefly
to hers for a kiss. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

"I hope that wasn't too presumptuous of me." Regina
tucked her purse under the table. "But I woke up thinking
about you this morning, so . . ." Her eyes twinkled.

The restaurant was small and well lit. Even though they
sat in a corner, sun poured liberally over their table. It was
like being on the sidewalk without the constant intrusion of
people or traffic. Shelly had once recommended the place to
Sinclair.

"I think I can handle that." Sinclair's belly danced, fluttering at Regina's attentions. The other woman's powerful and commanding personality was charming, something Sinclair
could never stand in a man but now she found it inexplicably
arousing.

"The Bloody Marys here are amazing," Regina murmured, pulling her chair closer to Sinclair's. "What are you
having?" she asked.

"Eggs and toast." Sinclair couldn't eat anything else with
her around. She was too stimulated. Her hands trembled
against the tablecloth.

"Have at least one drink with that. It'll spice up your
morning." She draped her arm over Sinclair's chair.

Awash in sunlight, Sinclair's skin tingled, begging to be
touched. As if Regina had read her mind, Sinclair felt a hand
on her knee.

The restaurant was crowded. Jaded urban animals, still
hung over from last night's debauches, drooped over their
drinks. Their faces were gray from having been forced to face
the light of day so early. There were some people who'd
traveled in just to go to the fairly popular restaurant. Excited
chatter rolled side by side with low growls of reluctant conversation. Regina's fingers traced the skin on the inside of
Sinclair's thigh.

"How was your night?" Regina asked.

"Good. I had a long bath, watched Bully reruns, and even
read a little."

"Anything of mine?"

"No." She was such an egomaniac.

"Too bad. I was hoping you'd fall asleep thinking about
me."

"That was the night before that." Sinclair met her eyes
across the table.

Satisfied, Regina sat back. Her fingers traveled higher,
brushing the lace edge of the panties Sinclair had worn just
for her.

"I don't do too much on Friday nights either. After a little
red wine, all I ever want to do is write."

"What? No research? I thought your search for more
knowledge on your subject matter was limitless."

"You're right. My curiosity has no bounds." Her eyes
flickered to Sinclair's mouth. "But one has to take some time
to write down the results of all one's tireless research."

"Of course, silly me."

A waitress in low-rider jeans and a rainbow belly ring
came over to take their order. Sinclair was vaguely surprised
that Regina let the young girl go without trying to chat her
up.

"Silly, never." Her long fingers lightly touched Sinclair
through her panties then, after a teasing stroke, disappeared.
"Other things, absolutely."