Suspect Passions (19 page)

“Please, Syd. I need you.”

The pleading request swirled through Syd like fever. She repositioned herself between Regan’s legs, inhaling her scent and grinding her own pelvis into the mattress. The tiny patch of blondish hair glistened with moisture in the muted light. Syd licked Regan’s protruding clit and teased her way down. Regan’s legs tensed on either side of her.

“I want you inside me, now.” The statement was almost inaudible but its intensity was palpable.

Syd lowered her mouth to Regan and simultaneously entered her with a possessive thrust a bit more forceful than she intended. Fearing she might’ve hurt her, she immediately started to withdraw.

“No, don’t stop,” Regan begged. “More.”

As Regan’s body responded to her pistoning fingers, Syd’s lust swelled. The rough seam of her jeans rubbed painfully against her clit. Another explosion pending, she clamped her legs together against the sensation and concentrated all her energies on Regan.

It was as if Regan sensed her frustration and wanted no part of a one-sided exchange. “Don’t hold back. Come with me. I know you want to.”

Her words dissolved Syd’s resistance. She allowed the tingling, stabbing excitement to consume her body and overpower her. Savoring and commanding Regan like a devouring beast, she humped the crumpled bed covers beneath her and let the climax possess her. As she tensed with the force of pending release, Regan’s body quivered and convulsed beneath her. They clung to each other and Syd wondered about the joy she experienced each time Regan’s muscles twitched against hers. Regan’s pleasure had become her own, and she could hardly wait to have her again.

Syd lost track of time as they made love over and over through the night. When the first slivers of dawn crept through the cityscape into her windows, she watched the light play across Regan’s features as she slept. Her soft curls of fine blond hair were tousled and moved slightly with each breath. Syd had never seen her so relaxed or so beautiful, her skin still flushed from their loving. The urge to take her in her sleep became almost overpowering, and Syd’s body moistened in anticipation. She tucked her hand between her legs and considered a quick hand job but knew it would be totally unsatisfactory after last night’s activities. Instead she gently kissed Regan’s forehead and slid out of bed.

She scribbled several drafts of a note, left one on her pillow, grabbed a clean uniform, and headed to the station to shower and get back to work. Softly closing the door behind her, she realized this was the first time she’d spent the entire night with a lover. She was always gone long before first light. It was also the first time a woman had spent the night in her loft. She conducted all sexual encounters at someone else’s home, in a vehicle, or some other neutral territory. Never, and there had been no exceptions until now,
never
at her place.

The thought dispatched a warm feeling through her system that soon changed to a knotted fist of anxiety. What had she done?

*

Regan awakened slowly, her body alive with the cellular memory of recent sex. Her lips were swollen and her muscles ached from the containment and release of pleasure during orgasm. Her breasts were tender and the nipples puckered anew at the thought of Syd’s mouth on them. Eyes closed and senses keenly alert, she replayed the evening’s events and let the sensations wash over her. She wasn’t ready to face the morning or Syd until she was certain she hadn’t dreamed or imagined it all.

When she’d arrived at Syd’s door, she’d intended to deliver the news about the verdict and leave. But when she saw Syd standing in front of her, barely clad in those jean shorts and tank top, her intentions had taken a sharp detour south. It was as if she no longer controlled her own mind or body. There was just something so sexually compelling about her that Regan felt defenseless. She wanted to blurt the news, celebrate their victory, and seduce Syd before she had time to object. And when Syd fell on top of her on the sofa, surrender seemed appropriate. They’d more or less agreed that they should spend the night working through their mutual attraction and then move on. It had been exquisite.

Regan knew without a doubt that she had been loved, not just sexually satisfied. Often with Martha she’d felt like a vessel into which her lover poured an occasional drop of affection to keep her appeased. For most of their relationship she hadn’t felt intimately connected, and when she’d tried to assert her sexual needs, Martha only tightened her stranglehold on their rigid routines.

Was it any wonder that she’d been amazed when Syd experienced a spontaneous orgasm in her arms only moments after they’d physically connected? Such freedom of expression had been nonexistent in her life previously. And Syd’s tears, regardless of their true cause, had shown Regan another side of this sensitive woman. Beneath the layered façade of cop attitude rested the heart of a passionate and caring person. Regan felt fortunate to have glimpsed her. That vulnerability had allowed her to surrender physically without reservation.

But Syd had surprised her in other ways as well. From what she’d seen and heard, Syd usually assumed the more submissive role during sex. Last night had been different. Without hesitation, Syd had become the initiator, almost as if it was something she
needed
to do. And Regan was more than willing to yield. There were none of the mental gymnastics that had inevitably accompanied a session with Martha. She’d been free to simply allow her body to feel, releasing all trepidation when Syd promised to take care of her. And Syd had kept her word, making love with a tenderness and passion that invited Regan to accept and let go, without thinking the whole encounter to death.

She brought her hand to her face and sniffed the musky fragrance of Syd that lingered there. She licked the remnants of her essence from the tips of her fingers and moaned in appreciation. Her body was suddenly fully awake and hungry. She rolled onto her side and stared at the pillow where Syd’s head should’ve been.

“What the…” She lifted a piece of paper and squinted against the bright morning light as she read the message.

Last night was great. Very special. I’m glad we decided to get it out of our systems. Lock the door when you leave. Good luck.

Syd

Regan bolted upright in bed and looked around the loft. She called to Syd, unable to believe she’d left without even a good-bye. Disappointment flooded her. Of course Syd was gone. This was just a one-night thing. They’d agreed on it up front. Her anger made no sense. She knew who Syd was. She’d known that the moment this case was over their lives would return to normal. For Syd that meant no complications, and for Regan it meant victory and vindication. She’d faced her demons and stared them down. What more did she want?

As she searched the loft for her clothing scattered from the bed to the living room, she renewed the detachment that had served her so well through the years. Sydney Cabot had effectively neutralized her defense mechanisms in only one night, and for a few moments, before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep, Regan had allowed herself to imagine she could have more. But the only
more
she faced today was more vulnerability. She was about to walk back to her car holding a buttonless blouse together across her tender breasts. If she allowed anyone to see the freshly fucked look on her face, she would be humiliated.

Like the women in that conference room, she’d succumbed to the seductive powers of a proven gigolo. And, like them, she would be left with only the memory of an encounter that would be hard to match. Regan tore up the note and left the pieces scattered across the pillows. As she slammed the loft door behind her, she thought,
For an accomplished attorney you’re not very smart.

Syd shucked off her sweaty uniform and tossed it into the clothes hamper, thankful that her first day back on the job had kept her too busy to think. As she found fresh clothing, her eyes drifted to the still-ruffled bed. She’d avoided looking at it since entering her bedroom. She didn’t want to start thinking about Regan again and wishing for the impossible. Her heart sped up when she saw shreds of paper clinging to the pillows. The note. She’d agonized over writing it, wanting to leave some kind of acknowledgment but fearful that Regan would feel pressured if she said anything sentimental. Her first several attempts were scrunched up in the trash.

Frowning, she pulled on a pair of baggy gym shorts and a T-shirt, opened the balcony doors, and let the cool evening breeze claim her overheated body. But she was horribly aware the torrid conditions that had plagued her all day had nothing to do with the weather. The entire surface of her skin chafed from the memory of Regan’s touch, and a simple breeze would not ease her discomfort.

She headed into the kitchen for a much-needed martini and the return to sanity she hoped it would bring. As she walked through the loft she refused to look again at her bed or the sofa where she had fallen on top of Regan, knowing instinctively that they still bore the imprint of her body. That was the problem with having sex in your own place—reminders. It was easier to leave it all behind in someone else’s home and pretend it never happened.

She took a sip of her drink and wished she could turn back the clock to last night. So much had happened and she understood so little of it now. Almost as if her wish had been granted, a knock sounded at the door. She rushed to answer it, her heart rate quickening in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she swung the door open wide and motioned her visitor inside with a bold sweep of her arm. “Please, come in.”

Jesse walked in with a knowing grin. “You were obviously expecting somebody else.”

Syd did a double take and tried to hide her disappointment. “Not really. Just wishful thinking.”

“You didn’t come to the club after you got the ruling. I had to hear about it from your pals. So here I am. What gives? And don’t try to bullshit me. I don’t have the time, and I’m not in the mood to have smoke blown up my ass unless I’m getting sex afterward.” Jesse walked around the loft, sniffing the air as she went. “Speaking of sex, you’ve had some in this very room, recently. That’s unusual for you.”

Syd couldn’t suppress her smile. “Did you come here to talk to me or to talk at me? I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise since you walked in.”

“Okay, give me a beer. Sounds like I’m going to need several.” Jesse scrubbed her knuckles across the top of her head in a telltale sign of confusion and settled onto one end of the sofa. “I’m surprised,” she said. “Why aren’t you more excited? You’d normally be celebrating at the club with an entourage of women.”

“I celebrated last night, sort of, with my attorney.” As Syd made the statement, she wondered if she truly considered their night together just a celebratory fuck. Her next thought was even more troubling. What if that was all it had been for Regan? She handed Jesse a cold beer. Of course that’s all it was.
What the hell’s wrong with you, Cabot?

“That tall, blond-haired butch type that dragged you out of the club last week? That attorney?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, cowabunga. I knew I liked her.”

Syd could feel Jesse’s eyes following her every movement. She never tried to push. A well placed uh-huh or a knowing nod was all the encouragement needed. In the end, Syd told her everything anyway, so prying was unnecessary and a waste of energy.

“We made—had sex, here, in my bed.” Syd paused, unsure what she could say to describe her time with Regan. Normally, that she’d hooked up with another woman was enough. The usual descriptors of quality, frequency, and varying positions followed later in the context of a running comparison to all the other women she’d bedded. But the experience with Regan had been different. It was unlike anything else. More intense, more open, just…more.

“And?”

Jesse’s single-word question puzzled Syd. She was usually eager for the juicy details and bombarded her with inquisitive eyebrow raises, lavish lip-licking, and suggestive waggling of her teacup-sized breasts. But it was as if Jesse sensed a difference and knew subtlety was the best approach.

“And nothing. We had sex. I went to work. That’s it.”

“But you had sex
here.
”

Syd chose not to respond to the implication that having sex in her home carried any particular significance.

“And you went to work? Did you at least give her a good-bye kiss?”

“I left a note.” Suddenly what had seemed perfectly reasonable and appropriate this morning sounded cheap, cowardly, and cold. “It was my first day back on the job. I was in a hurry.”
Not to mention that I didn’t know how to face her.
“I wanted to let her sleep and—”

Jesse held up her hand. “You can stop. I don’t need to hear anymore. You felt something for this woman and you didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Don’t be—” The word “ridiculous” hung in her throat. Her gut demanded more. “Maybe. I’m not sure what I mean.”

“Did she play your little come-and-get-me game?”

“Actually I was all over her. I don’t understand what happened to me. One minute she was telling me we’d won the case and the next I was on top of her like an animal in season.”

Jesse patted the sofa beside her and waited for Syd to join her. “And she let you? I mean, she was okay with everything?”

“That’s just it, Jess. She didn’t strike me as the submissive type and it didn’t really feel like submission. It felt like she wanted to please me. At the same time, I had this definite feeling that she would be just as happy to take charge, if I’d let her. Does that make sense?”