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Authors: Radclyffe,Karin Kallmaker

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BOOK: Cruising the Strip
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“Good thing you reminded me.” With a distinctly regretful look in her eyes, Barrett led Farrah through the master bedroom and into a palatial bathroom, gripping her arm tightly when Farrah stumbled a little in the unfamiliar shoes. She wouldn’t be able to walk twenty feet in them.

When she took in the layout for the photo shoot, Farrah laughed. The bathtub, easily capable of holding three people, was filled with white cushions.

“We’re taking a bath together, sort of?”

“That’s the idea.”

Racie posed them several ways over the next hour and took preliminary photographs. Farrah straddling Barrett, Barrett spooning Farrah from behind, Farrah looking as if she’d fallen across Barrett’s lap, and so forth. Each pose included careful arrangement of the folds of Farrah’s gown and the set of Barrett’s shoulders.

Racie paced and muttered, mostly to herself, then announced, “I’m liking this one so far. Let’s do a full set with it.”

Barrett was resting back in the tub, the heels of her men’s dress shoes up on the lip farthest from the camera, ankles crossed and looking very devil-may-care. Farrah was on her side, her head on Barrett’s shoulder and her dress was spread over the cushions, exposing her legs as the dress covered Barrett’s.

“A few little things,” Racie said. She tweaked the dress again, then leaned over the tub to lift Farrah’s pendant from where it had become trapped between her breasts. Racie’s fingertips brushed over Farrah’s chest as she set the pendant where it would be seen. Farrah couldn’t help but stare down Racie’s loose-fitting tank top. She wore no bra and the erect nipples of dusty rose made Farrah’s mouth water. “Now don’t move.”

The camera shutter clicked, batteries were swapped, the lights shifted. Racie had to dab their faces with more powder as the temperature kept going up. Farrah lost track of time. The lighting didn’t allow for any change in the sunlight, though it had to be early evening, and she was intensely aware of Barrett’s pounding heart and taut body.

The suite’s doorbell rang and Racie went to answer it, saying, “I bet that’s the room service you preordered, baby. You two relax. I think we’re just about done.”

“Thank God,” Farrah muttered.

“Could you get off my shoulder?”

“Sorry!” Farrah wiggled around, her legs feeling stiff.

“It’s not your fault. Racie can be a real…taskmaster.”

Farrah managed to get herself onto the side of the tub. “Do you really think we’re done?”

“I hope so, because I really want to kiss you.”

Having had the past hour to think about it, Farrah said, “Do you make all the girls feel this way at these conventions?”

“Do you think I have a woman in every port, or something?” Barrett looked offended.

“You’re a natural born flirt.”

“So what if I am? And exactly how am I making you feel?”

“I think you know.”

“I know what I want to be true.” She leaned close, her lips only an inch from Farrah’s. “I want you to be as wet and as aching as I am. I’ve been like this since San Antonio. Touching you was unforgettable.”

“Barrett, stop it.” Farrah glanced nervously in the direction of the door.

“Why?”

“Your
girlfriend
will be back any moment.”

Barrett’s eyes had no business crinkling with such charm. “I certainly hope so. We play as a couple.”

Farrah’s heart nearly stopped. Not just Barrett, with the hot, eager eyes, but sultry, sexy Racie too? They both…wanted her?

“Racie thinks you’re confused and just need a helping hand to show you what you really are.” Barrett brushed her lips against Farrah’s.

Say something, Farrah thought desperately.
Nice girls do not have threesomes
. Say no, that’s right, say no. Say it now.

“But I read between the lines in your love scenes, and I think you already know what you are. You’re just afraid to live it.”

Her voice taut with panic and excitement, Farrah asked, “Is that supposed to goad me into saying yes?”

“I don’t want you to say yes.” Barrett undid the first button on her vest with a dexterous flick. “I want you to scream it.”

Racie re-entered the room, licking her fingers. “I’m sorry, guys. If you eat something you’ll ruin the makeup and I realized there’s one more pose I want. The crab dip is delicious, and there are apricot crepes with burnt sugar.” She seemed oblivious to the telling angles of Farrah’s and Barrett’s bodies. “If you’ve eased those tired muscles, I want to use the sunset lighting in the hallway. We have to move fast.”

Farrah leaned on one shoulder against the nondescript wall where Racie pointed. After Racie finished fussing with her camera, she gave Farrah one of those oh-you’re-edible looks.

“Stand here,” she practically purred, placing Farrah’s feet a good twenty inches from the wall. “Now lean like this.” Her hands were warm and firm.

The position, with her shoulders flat against the cold wallpaper, was awkward, requiring her to bend backward at an extreme angle.

It got less awkward when Barrett’s thigh was pressed between her legs to hold her up. One arm supported her back, requiring Barrett to lean into her, their faces only inches apart.

“That’s fantastic.” Racie’s shoulders and neck were flushed by the time she had Barrett posed to her satisfaction. She snatched up her camera. “Your bodies are in the light, your faces in shadow—this will be a totally hot black and white shot. It’s just like the covers of all our books, the big clinch.”

Farrah could feel Barrett’s heartbeat against her breasts. It was all she could do not to rub herself on the hard thigh. Aware that Racie might be able to hear her, she dropped her voice as low as possible. “You weren’t making it up, were you?”

“Making what up?”

“That you both…you know.”

“Play? No, it’s the truth.” If anything, Barrett leaned closer. “Racie is so turned on right now I’m surprised she can focus her camera. But she always manages. She’s all about the visual, and you are so wicked hot.”

“I don’t—why? Why me?” Farrah realized she was stammering like a teenager.

“Damn, woman. You’re intelligent, you’re funny, you’re incredibly sexy. Of all the characters you write, the ones who ring the truest are the good girls with a wildcat in their soul. Do you think all those hot-for-Farrah posts on the fan lists are just flattery? If I were a guy I’d have a hard-on the size of Montana around you.”

“Barrett.” Farrah breathed out the name, knowing she had wanted to say it for a long time.

“I’m not a guy, but right now my clit feels like the size of Montana.” With a little growl, she pushed her thigh more firmly between Farrah’s legs.

“Perfect,” Racie said. “Just like that.” She circled them slowly for several minutes, camera whirring.

Finally, Racie put the camera down, then approached them. Farrah expected more posing, though it seemed to her that the shadows were getting long and low for any more photos. Racie had gotten all the desert’s summer sunset could give.

Leaning in to look at Barrett, Racie said, “Now I think you should kiss her.”

Farrah gasped.

“God knows, I want to. But it’s up to Farrah.” In spite of her words, Barrett buried her lips into the hollow of Farrah’s throat.

Racie’s lips were at Farrah’s ear. “I know you want her. It’s okay. I love her, and I love watching her.”

Farrah struggled to find her voice as Barrett nuzzled at her other ear.

“I’m a visual person,” Racie went on. “When she’s making love to me I can’t watch her the same way. So I watch her with other women and it’s incredible. I get to enjoy all her beautiful strength, I get to see every nuance of her body when she comes, and I still get to be in her bed, too. I get it all.”

“You dressed me for her.” Farrah didn’t resist the firm glide of Barrett’s thigh against her very wet cunt.

Racie’s tongue flicked her earlobe as Barrett slid slowly to her knees. “No, I dressed you so you’d look like the hot, sensual woman you are. And I dressed you for me. She would just as soon we were naked.”

The heat of Barrett’s mouth pressing through the fabric of the dress nearly buckled Farrah’s knees. Racie groaned in her ear and one elegant, long-fingered hand caressed Farrah’s bare shoulder, then moved to her breast.

“Barrett,” Farrah managed to moan. Her head said it was too much, too sudden, but her body had decided that making up for lost time was imperative. She arched harder against Barrett’s mouth as Racie pulled the dress downward to bare Farrah’s breasts.

“Perfect,” Racie breathed. Her hand came back to caress and tease Farrah’s nipples while Barrett seemed intent on biting through Farrah’s dress.

Racie leaned away just enough to look down at Barrett. Farrah saw the ardent appreciation in Racie’s eyes at the sight of her lover, abandoned in passion. With a fluid motion, Racie pulled her tank top over her head, leaving low-rider jeans clasped around her narrow hips. With deliberate quickness, she wound her fingers into Barrett’s thick hair and pulled her away from Farrah—pulled her away to turn her head and bring her mouth to the crotch of the jeans.

“That’s right, baby.” Racie went up on her tiptoes as she rubbed herself on Barrett’s mouth. “Two women to satisfy tonight.”

Farrah realized she’d never said yes, but who was she kidding? She was so full and slippery she could feel wetness trickling down her thighs.

Barrett reared back with a deep groan. She scrambled to her feet then kissed Racie on the mouth, hard. In the next moment, she swept Farrah into her arms, carried her to the living room, and finally spread her out on the round sofa.

It was like a stage, Farrah thought, pleasing to Racie’s eye. The drama wasn’t lost on her, either. Barrett was a study in lines and angles, Racie in dark planes and muscle. She added pale curves. Barrett circled the sofa to caress first Farrah’s calves, then her shoulders.

Watching Barrett prowl around her made Farrah dizzy. It took her a moment to realize that the hands pushing her dress out of the way were Racie’s. Barrett circled the sofa again, to cup the back of Racie’s head and guide her into Farrah’s cunt.

“Does that feel good?” Barrett leaned over to brush her lips over Farrah’s panting mouth. “You’re so beautiful to watch. So is she.”

The sinuous tongue was stroking places only Farrah’s fingers had touched for years. All the build up, all the fantasizing had her on the edge of climax within seconds. She jerked against Racie’s mouth when Barrett tugged on her nipples. Her restraint was gone; there was no reason to deny what she wanted. She shredded the lie of Farrah Fotheringay in her mind and grabbed Barrett by the waist of her pants.

“Please,” she said. “You don’t know how long it’s been, please.”

Barrett stripped, and she was gorgeous, a body like a god that Farrah appreciated for the few seconds it took to pull Barrett onto the sofa. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.

Barrett covered her lips in a heated rush, and Farrah pushed her tongue hard into the eager, welcoming mouth, realizing as she did so that she was matching the motion of Racie’s tongue doing the same thing to Farrah’s cunt.

“Damn,” Barrett said against Farrah’s lips. “Damn, it’s as good as I thought it would be.”

“Kiss me again.” Farrah lost herself in Barrett’s mouth while the pleasure between her legs grew unbearable. She bucked against Racie and Barrett’s grip on her tightened.

“That’s right, that’s right, come for her.”

Farrah struggled not to burst into tears. Racie’s mouth felt that wonderful, her tongue that intense.

Barrett shifted to hold Farrah in place as she writhed in response to Racie. Farrah turned her head to find one erect nipple. She bit down, then sucked it into her mouth, drunk on Barrett’s earthy groan blending with Racie’s appreciative gasps. The two of them had unleashed her. She shoved her hand between Barrett’s legs.

Barrett’s elbows buckled as she pushed her cunt against Farrah’s fingers. “Damn, woman, let me catch my breath.”

“No,” Farrah said. She curved her fingers, opening Barrett. “If you thought I would be a passive plaything, you were wrong.”

Racie finally raised her head from between Farrah’s thighs. “Yes, just like that. Fuck her. Just do it. That’s how she likes it.”

Barrett made a choked noise as Farrah pushed roughly inside her.

“Get me out of this dress,” Farrah said to Racie, even as she twisted around to get a better angle. Racie fiddled with the zipper, then pulled the dress off, discarding her own jeans as well.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” Racie ran her hands over Barrett’s body. “You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

Barrett nodded desperately.

Farrah whispered, “Please open your eyes.”

Barrett’s gaze was unfocused when she did as Farrah asked. The just-a-bit-dangerous woman had disappeared, leaving a vulnerable one behind.

“It’s okay,” Farrah said. “We’ve got you.” She rolled to Barrett’s side, her hand sliding even deeper. With her other arm she pulled Barrett close, cradling her.

“I know how long you’ve wanted her,” Racie said. “It’s okay, baby. God, I know you’re this way with me, but I’ve never been able to watch you with a strong femme before. You’re so strong, too, Barrett, honey…I love the way your back arches. It’s okay, you can let go with her.”

BOOK: Cruising the Strip
11.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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