Just This Once (12 page)

“Oh God!” Wynne shut her eyes tightly as the powerful orgasm took her. When the waves receded, she bent forward at the waist, laying her hand on Paula’s cheek. “Come up here.”

Reluctantly, Paula left her treasure and moved up to claim another, covering Wynne’s lips with her own. “You’re amazing…and so beautiful.”

“You make me feel that way.” The taller woman pulled her lover directly on top of her.

“Will you let me taste you like that?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

Chapter 9

Wynne resisted the temptation to flick her tongue into the sleeping woman’s ear, knowing that it would trigger anew an exhausting round of lovemaking that would leave her shattered before her workday even began. For three hours last night, they had quietly explored one another, Paula finding and kissing all of the visible scars from her accident two years ago. What the blonde woman didn’t know was that her touch had begun to heal the scars that couldn’t be seen.

Slayer made himself comfortable draped across Wynne’s hip, his paws resting on the arm that wrapped around Paula’s waist. The cat had tactfully granted them many hours alone last night, but it was now time to assert his domain.

Daylight bled through the blinds, prompting the tall visitor to look about for a clock.

Beside her lover’s head, the green digital display read 5:36 a.m. She had persuaded Paula to set the alarm for six, but it wouldn’t be needed after all. Carefully, she resituated the big orange cat beside his mom, and extricated herself from the covers. Scanning about, she gathered her clothes and found her way to the guest bathroom.

The face that greeted her from the mirror was oddly peaceful, given that she’d broken a major rule last night. But like Paula had said, they were both big girls, and she’d have to deal with it. She just couldn’t muster enough guilt to feel regret.

Quickly, she washed and dressed, then slipped into the kitchen to use the phone. The card she’d gotten from the taxi driver came in handy after all, she mused.

“Paula? Wake up, hon.” Wynne sat on the edge of the bed, gently shaking the sleeping woman’s shoulder.

Paula heard the voice but wouldn’t let her eyes open, afraid to lose the image of the beautiful woman beside her.

“Paula!”

“What is it? Wynne?” So she really had been here.

“I need to go soon. I called a taxi.”

Paula twisted her body in the bed so she could wrap her arms around the woman’s waist and lay her head in her lap. “Don’t go. Last night was amazing,” she mumbled, drifting off again.

“It was wonderful,” Wynne agreed, meaning every word. “Paula? Did you go back to sleep?”

“No,” the disheveled blonde protested, still without opening her eyes.

“Listen to me.” Wynne lowered her voice. “I really must say, you throw a helluva dinner party.”

Paula chuckled, finally sitting up.

“I have to go. Paula, last night was…it was just incredible. You are just incredible.” It was in fact the most enjoyable night she had ever spent with another woman as far as Wynne was concerned, but she wasn’t going to tell her that. She pulled the drowsy face to hers and delivered the kiss that finally awoke the sleeping beauty.

“You’ll be back in two weeks?”

“I will,” she promised.

———

It took every ounce of concentration she could muster to stay focused on Cheryl’s dynamic presentation of their recommendations. Ken Markoff and Wendell Martin were impressed with the logic and the many positive implications for their company’s bottom line. The stockholders were going to love it.

All day, Wynne’s thoughts had wandered back to the night before, to the images on Paula’s face as she shuddered her release; of green eyes that locked onto her own as she lowered her mouth to Paula’s most private place; and of the sleeping innocent in her arms. She remembered so vividly the taste….

“Okay, we’re done here, gentlemen. Thank you for your comments. We’ll make those two little revisions, and polish it up for the analysts,” Cheryl finished.

“Cheryl, now is good for me if you have a few minutes,” Ken said as he exited the conference room to return to his office.

“I’ll be right there,” she called. “Wynne, what time is your plane?”

“It leaves at six. I suppose I should pack up my things and head out.”

“Could you look into catching something a little later? I really need to talk with you, but I have to go over some things with Ken first.”

Wynne’s stomach knotted with anxiety. “I think there’s another one around 8:30.”

“Ask Denise to help you change it. I’ll be happy to run you to the airport if we get pinched for time.”

“Sure.”

Wynne managed to get booked on the 8:30 flight, though she had to upgrade to first class for a guaranteed seat. Oh well, Cheryl had insisted. It was almost six o’clock before the vice president returned to her office. “Wynne, would you join us for a few minutes, then I promise to let you go.”

The tall woman followed her boss back into Ken Markoff’s office, her heart beating faster with every step.
This is about me
. They sure didn’t waste any time once the plan was finished, she groused, readying herself for the axe.

At her boss’s direction, she took a seat at a small round conference table directly across from the CEO. Cheryl sat down between them.

“Wynne, thank you for sticking around this afternoon,” Markoff started formally. “I want to let you know personally that I really appreciate your contribution to this project. Cheryl has kept me up to date throughout the process, and has always spoken highly of your work. In fact, she told me what you’d said about working for what was best for the company and for the stockholders, and I have to say, that attitude is awfully impressive.”

Wynne was starting to breathe a sigh of relief. It sounded like she was going to get a glowing recommendation from both Markoff and Cheryl Williams.

“Cheryl has been after me for a year to let her hire an assistant vice president who can manage the marketing aspects and let her concentrate more on the sales end, and we’d both like it very much if you’d accept that job. It will mean a move to Orlando, of course, but we’ll pay for all that. And I hear that assistant VPs make a little more than managers, isn’t that right, Cheryl?”

“It’s about double, maybe a little more.”

Assistant vice president. Move to Orlando. Double the salary
. Here was the opportunity she’d wanted.

“So will you accept, Wynne?” Cheryl prodded.

“Of course I accept!” Wynne stood and extended her hand across the table to her CEO.

“Thank you, Mr. Markoff.”

“It’s Ken, and welcome to the family.”

“Cheryl, I don’t know what to say.”

The VP tossed out all formality and reached out to offer a warm hug. “I’m so glad to have you aboard, Wynne. It’s going to be great working with you.”

———

It was almost midnight when the taxi pulled up in front of Wynne’s townhouse, and she was dead on her feet. In the last 24 hours, her world had been totally rocked by the very things that had brought her so much frustration over the last few weeks.

It was time for Wynne Connelly to shed the sense of duty and obligation that had plagued her life for so long. At Eldon-Markoff, she was being offered a new start, a chance to build a career at one of the top companies in the travel business. What’s more, Ken Markoff had apparently been okay with what he’d witnessed at the restaurant, so she wouldn’t have to fear losing her job over being a lesbian.

Her move to Orlando would force her mother to take responsibility for her own wellbeing.

That might be tough at first on Janelle, but Wynne felt strongly that both her sister and mom would rise to the occasion if they had to.

And then there was Paula.

As she’d more fully considered the ramifications of a move to Orlando, her thoughts of the beautiful blonde caused her sorrow to the point of a near physical pain. They were “big girls,” Paula had said. Did that mean that they could handle the consequences of sleeping together, no matter what they were? Or did it just mean that they gave themselves permission to enjoy, without obligation? Whatever it meant, Wynne knew that by spending the night in Paula’s bed, she’d probably ruined any chance to have a real future with the woman. It was one thing to have an out-of-town fling; it was altogether different to want to turn that into something more serious. Those types of relationships were based on mutual trust, and she’d violated that before they ever began. For that, she had regrets. Profound regrets.

But it was time to look forward now.

Wynne fumbled with her key, finally getting it to work. It was too late to worry about unpacking, she thought, so she left her bags in the foyer and started arduously up the stairs to the second level, a nightlight guiding her path.

From the top drawer of her dresser, she removed a nightshirt and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. A hot soak would feel great, but she was far too tired for that.

Instead, she took three ibuprofen, brushed her teeth, and turned out the light.

Wynne eased herself into bed, settling comfortably between the sheets. A warm arm snaked across her belly to pull her closer as a silky thigh nestled between her own.

“Did you have a good trip, sweetheart?”

“Just the usual.” That would be her final lie, she vowed.

Chapter 10

“I was beginning to wonder if you were planning on coming home tonight.” Heather Bennett met her lover at the door, taking both the black leather briefcase and the flannellined raincoat.

“Sorry, my inbox was stuffed. Dinner smells good.”

“It was,” Heather chided. “I saved you some.”

“Thanks.” Wynne didn’t miss the admonition. Still, she had suggested long ago that Heather eat without her rather than wait when she was late getting home, especially since she had started working much longer hours with the Orlando project.

Together, the two women walked into the small kitchen, where Heather quickly went about warming dinner in the microwave.

“I can get that, Heather. You don’t have to wait on me.”

“I don’t mind. Go ahead and have a seat.”

Wynne did as she was told, sitting on a stool at the two-person counter while the other woman prepared her meal.

“Did you get a feel for what’s going to happen to your job?”

“Yeah, I talked about it with Cheryl and Ken. I don’t think they’re going to let me go.”

That was technically the truth, but Wynne wasn’t ready to share her news with her lover, especially now that she was on the precipice of making some big changes in her life.

Heather Bennett would be one of those changes.

“That’s great news, honey.” The phone interrupted their chat. “Oh, your mom called…about three times.”

Wynne sighed in resignation, not for her mother’s call, but because once again, Heather had failed to simply suggest that her mother try the work number. It was no secret that her lover was jealous of the time she gave to her family. Heather barely spoke to the Connelly woman, and vice versa; in her mind, Wynne’s constant catering to her mother took her away from what should be her primary relationship.

“Hello…Yeah, I just walked in the door. Heather told me you’d called,” Wynne covered for her lover’s indifference. “That’s a good idea, Mom, but I think you ought to get more than one estimate. That seems like a lot of money.” On her daughter’s recommendation, Kitty Connelly had decided to have the exterior of her Tudor home painted. “Sure, I’ll come on Saturday and meet with them.”

Heather slammed her glass down on the counter to express her anger at Wynne’s easy acquiescence, and left the room in disgust.

“Okay, I’ll see you about 10:30. Bye.”

Wynne knew that her lover was steamed, but she just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Besides, it would never be resolved to Heather’s satisfaction — that would require Wynne to sever all contact with her mother and sister — so why bother at all.

The microwave beeped and the tired woman retrieved her meal, a bowl of chicken stew.

Briefly, she considered following Heather into the living room where the other woman no doubt was already absorbed in something on TV, but Wynne didn’t want to deal with either the noise or her lover’s foul mood. Not tonight…not again.

It was two years ago that Wynne met the stylish young woman during a party at the home of mutual friends. As the only single women in attendance, the pair was given a wide berth when they settled on a corner sofa and got to know a little about each other. Only 24 years old, Heather Bennett was pretty, average height with long curly brown hair and large hazel eyes. Her hours at the gym were apparent from her trim figure. A sales clerk for women’s clothing and accessories at an upscale department store in Owings Mills, she planned a career in retail, hoping someday to make department head. Without a college degree, she doubted she could move into management.

Despite her initial reservations that Heather really wasn’t her type, she accepted an invitation to have dinner with her the following week. As far as Wynne was concerned, their date was mediocre at best, so she was surprised the next day when one dozen longstemmed red roses arrived at her office, along with another invitation to go out. The flowers must have set Heather back a day’s pay!

That weekend, they took in a movie, afterward sharing a small kiss that for Wynne lacked any sort of spark at all. Certain that they had no future, the taller woman decided not to pursue a deeper relationship with Heather Bennett.

Fate changed that when, after dropping Heather off at her home, Wynne was broadsided at an intersection by a pickup that was traveling so fast it pushed her more than half a block before she came to rest against a utility pole. Rescue workers used the “jaws of life” to extract her unconscious body from the crushed Toyota Camry, but not before she writhed in agony for over an hour, staring through the shattered window at the lifeless face of the youth who had hit her. It was an image that to this day plagued the woman’s dreams.

When she regained consciousness four days later, Heather was at her side, Kitty Connelly having shared the bedside vigil with this young woman who seemed to care so much for her daughter. Wynne was a mess, her left leg shattered, her skull fractured, her ribs and pelvis snapped. A ruptured spleen had nearly caused her to bleed to death in the crumpled car. She was lucky to be alive.