Suspect Passions (29 page)

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Authors: V. K. Powell

BOOK: Suspect Passions
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Regan held her chair as Syd eased into the seat, the coarse tweed upholstery brushing against an already sexually alert, tingling bottom. “I hope this place is okay.”

Syd hesitated. “I saw you here with a blonde one night, very attractive. Are you dating her?” As soon as she spoke, she knew she sounded jealous. She was never inquisitive about other people’s personal lives, but she realized that in matters concerning Regan Desanto, she wanted to know everything. “I’m sorry. That was out of line and absolutely none of my business.”

“It’s all right. You can ask me anything.”

Regan’s blue eyes bored into her without the slightest flicker and Syd knew she was speaking from the heart. It was amazing how much more attuned she was becoming to the feelings of others as she embraced her own. The thought of being so connected to Regan filled Syd with an appetite for something she couldn’t name but that she needed as fundamentally as her next breath.

“And to answer your question, no, I’m not dating her. Nancy is a dear friend from college. She wants to hire me for her law firm.”

“Good, I mean, not good that she wants to hire you, but good that you’re not dating.” Syd was saved from further babbling by the appearance of their waiter. “Are you interested in some wine?”

When Regan nodded, Syd made a selection and gave her order, then stared out the window trying to get her nerves and her horniness under control. Being in such close proximity to Regan generated images of climbing on the table and making love to her as the whole restaurant watched. So much for control. She squirmed like a kid on a wooden church pew halfway into a two-hour sermon. Regan looked amused, her eyes sparkling as if she was enjoying Syd’s discomfort.

“You’re not going to take another job, are you?” Syd asked.

Regan took several seconds too long to reply. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to give you a reason to stay.” Syd relaxed. Now that sounded more like her old confident, seductive self. “And I’m sure I can find one.”

“I just bet you could, Officer Cabot. Tell me more. I’m intrigued.”

“You’re teasing me now. Don’t you know it’s not nice to torture a horny lesbian, especially in a public place? It can lead to unconventional behavior.” The minute the statement was out of her mouth, Syd regretted it. Memories of her first encounter with Regan flashed back. The sparkle in Regan’s eyes dulled as she seemed to be revisiting the same scenario. “I’m sorry. That was tacky.”

“That was our beginning and, yes, it was tacky.” There was no hint of judgment in Regan’s voice, only the facts.

“Those days are over, trust me.”

Regan seemed to consider Syd’s comment, to sift through it in her mind like panning for gold, or the truth, which was often equally rare. “What makes you say that?”

“Because the need for that behavior is gone. I don’t have to hide from my feelings anymore. And the only reason I’d want to take you in a public place is because I can hardly control myself when I’m around you. I want you that much, all the time.”

Syd inhaled deeply, sure that she’d pass out if she didn’t. Exposing her emotions was daunting because she had no idea how her admission would be received, but it was also exhilarating. She wanted Regan to know how she felt and to know that she could be trusted.

Regan’s neck tinged with pink that crept across her face. She fumbled with the napkin in her lap. “I…don’t know what to say, and I’m usually the talker.”

“Then let me talk for a while. I’ve got a lot to say.”

The waiter brought their wine, Syd tasted it, and he poured them each a glass. Syd raised hers in a toast. “To truth in advertising and relationships.” They clicked glasses as Regan gave her a questioning look. “Because it feels a little bit like I’m selling myself here.”

“You don’t have to sell yourself to me. And you don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not about want, it’s what I
have
to do, for us. If there can ever be an us.”

Regan took a tiny sip of wine and settled back into her seat. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Neon light from across the street refracted through the window and cast a rainbow of color across Regan’s ivory skin as Syd watched, captivated. Colors to represent the many phases and nuances of Regan’s personality she had yet to discover. The possibility excited her emotionally and physically. She slid a hand up the inside of her thigh and pressed firmly against the fabric torturing her clit. A charge bolted through her as she realized how easy it would be to make herself come just sitting here looking at Regan. But now was not the time. Tonight was about expressing her feelings verbally, proving to Regan that she was sincere.

Syd summoned all her courage, realizing that this was the most important conversation she’d ever had. She wanted it to be perfect and to relay her feelings exactly. Such proclamations couldn’t be rushed.

As if reading her mind, Regan smiled at her and said, “I’ve got all night. It’ll probably take that long for me to finish this wine. I’m really not much of a drinker. So, take your time.”

“I don’t know how you do that, but I love it. Don’t ever stop.” She took another hefty breath. “The first night we spent together was amazing. At the time, I thought my reactions to you were about relief and gratitude over the case.”

“And now?”

“Now I know it was about
you,
the person, and how incredibly safe, comfortable, and wanted you made me feel.” A furrow forming across Regan’s forehead made Syd stop. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You make me sound like somebody’s mother.”

Syd struggled with how to express what she felt. She’d had precious little experience doing that and was obviously botching it big-time. “Not at all. I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve never felt that anyone cared about me that way, just for me.”

The worried look lifted from Regan’s brow and Syd tried again. “You saw the worst of me and weren’t afraid. And God, do you turn me on. Couldn’t you see that? I came almost as soon as I touched you that first time. It’s like flipping a light switch whenever you enter a room. I’m on.”

“That kind of talk can turn a girl’s head, Cabot.” Regan smiled and a mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes.

Syd had finally found the right words. If she could only keep that smile on Regan’s face forever, she’d be happy. “While I’m on a roll I might as well go for it. I’m sorry again for leaving you alone in my loft with a kiss-off note. Not one of my finer moments.”

“Why did you?”

Syd had a feeling Regan already knew the answer to her question. She seemed to understand Syd that well. But she needed to hear the words from her. “I was afraid. I woke up that morning beside you and never wanted to leave. That was a first for me and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t just about sex?”

Reaching across the table, Syd slid her fingers under Regan’s and stroked the top of her hand with her thumb. Syd looked directly into her eyes, sensing that this question held the key to all Regan’s concerns. “No, it was awesome but not everything. That night I allowed myself to
feel
for the first time in almost a year. It brought me to tears but it felt good at the same time. You helped me do that by being so open. Can you forgive me for acting like such a coward?”

Regan closed her fingers around Syd’s, her eyes never leaving Syd’s. “Done.”

Syd shivered like tiny goose bumps were marching through her insides. One intense stare from Regan’s eyes propelled her into a full-blown fantasy that she couldn’t contain. “If you don’t stop that, we’ll have to skip dinner and go straight for dessert.”

“Would that be such a terrible thing?”

“Not at all, but I need to ask a question first.”

Over Regan’s shoulder Syd spotted a well-dressed woman wobbling toward their table. She had wispy blond hair, the face of a cherub, and the body of a porn star, big tits, slender waist, and childbearing hips. She was the type who could lull a woman into a coma of safety with her eyes and fuck her until her bones turned to dust at the same time. Syd thought she looked vaguely familiar but couldn’t make the connection.

The woman came to an unsteady stop beside Regan’s chair and just stood, waiting to be acknowledged. The breath from her heavily painted red lips reeked of alcohol. When Regan looked up, her entire face blanched as white as their tablecloth. Her mouth opened but produced no sound. Already Syd didn’t like this woman, whoever she was. Then it hit her.
God, no.

“Well, what have we here? Aren’t you going to ask me to sit down, Regan?”

Regan looked from the intruder to Syd, unable or unwilling to speak.

“What about you, Syd?” The woman asked. “May I join you?”

Syd could feel the tension from Regan’s body across the table. She wanted to whisk her away from this place before the ax she felt hanging over them fell. Regan’s face shifted and contorted as every conceivable emotion brushed across the pristine canvas. Shock followed by fear turned to annoyance, disbelief, and anger.

“You
know
each other?”

Before Syd had a chance to explain that she’d only seen this woman once years ago, if she actually was the woman Syd recalled, the interloper said, “Oh yes, we know each other in the biblical sense. Right, Syd?” With a contemptuous look at Regan, she added, “And I learned just tonight that your new friend here even fucked another officer’s wife. Can you believe that?”

Syd sprang from her seat. Who was this vile creature and what dark corner of purgatory did she spring from, spewing all Syd’s past transgressions? “Who the hell
are
you and what business of yours is it who I sleep with?”

Regan’s skin turned deep red. “You’ve fucked
this woman,
too?” She spat the question at Syd through clenched teeth.

Syd’s mind was spinning violently. Why was Regan’s response so disproportionate? She knew Syd’s past was littered with women who meant nothing. It was embarrassing to have one of them spoil their romantic dinner, but there was no reason to let the evening turn into a nightmare. They needed to take their discussion somewhere private. She reached for Regan’s arm.

“Let’s get out of here.” As Regan jerked out of her grip, Syd said, “Regan, listen to me. I don’t even remember this woman’s name. It wasn’t important.”

Her comment seemed to affect Regan like a glass of cold water. She stepped within inches of Syd’s face, eyes locked to hers. “Her name is
Martha.
And it was important to
me.
She’s my ex-lover.”

“Oh, shit.” As Regan exited the restaurant, Syd felt as if she’d been gut punched. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

“Yeah, small world, isn’t it? Want to have a drink?” Martha asked.

If Syd were a violent person, she might’ve done her bodily harm. “You’ve
got
to be kidding.”

She threw some cash down on the table and ran from the restaurant, desperate to find Regan and sort out this huge mess. She was too late. All she could do was watch the taillights of Regan’s car as she sped away.

*

Regan felt like her veins had been slashed open and the very essence of life drained from her. The only thing missing was a deranged scientist to collect her mutilated body and distribute it to the blood-thirsty undead. But that had always been Martha’s job: draining her of joy, leaving her empty, and abandoning her. A full year later she’d done it again. What had started off as one of the most beautiful nights of Regan’s life ended like a bad horror movie.

Martha and Syd. Kissing. Fondling. Sucking. Fucking and coming, together. The thought scorched her mind and curdled in her stomach. She stopped her car by the side of the road, leaned out the door, and vomited the bitter wine out of her system. It singed a raw path up her throat that only momentarily distracted her from the dark specter of betrayal that clutched her heart again.

God, how she wanted to believe Syd when she’d phoned to ask her on the date. She’d been so candid during that brief call, telling Regan that she wanted them to have a fresh start and get to know each other. That she wanted something different, something meaningful. Regan had even dared to hope that she was part of the change she could sense.

And tonight, Syd was so sincere, so genuinely in touch with her emotions that Regan had started to believe and hope. But the closer she got to Syd, the more skeletons fell out of her seemingly infinite closet.
She’d been fooled again.
When would she learn that no one could be trusted, especially in affairs of the heart?

Her old wounds festered as she drove out of town and for hours beyond. She had no idea where she was when she finally pulled off the shoulder of the winding road at an overlook. A small town blinked and twinkled its light display in the valley below as Regan leaned her head against the steering wheel and wept. No amount of crying would eradicate the vision of Martha and Syd’s sweaty body parts entwined in an all-night comefest, and no rationalizations would alter the facts.

She could recite from memory every explicit and covert move in Martha’s sexual repertoire. Syd would have been overpowered and perhaps she’d even enjoyed Martha’s obsession for physical domination and sexual control. Regan couldn’t stop the images of Martha’s rough hands clawing Syd’s supple skin or her philistine invasions of the feminine hills and valleys of Syd’s body. Her stomach lurched again and she sat back against the seat and really looked at the rolling hills surrounding the small town below, at the cup-shaped valley and the glitter of lights like diamonds thrown on the ocean floor. Her emotions started to calm and cool in the presence of such a serene setting. When her life seemed most tumultuous, she often sought refuge in nature and the comfort of miracles too simple or too intricate to be explained. The chaotic perfection of nature helped her understand that some things were purely out of her control. It brought her back to basics.

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