Justice in the Shadows (10 page)

“Should be fun on the bike,” Mitchell muttered. The unaccustomed pressure between her thighs that escalated intermittently with every small movement was disturbingly arousing. Her entire body was tingling, and she couldn’t wait for Sandy to see her.
Oh man. What if she doesn’t like it? Jesus Christ. What if she
does?

“Are you and Sandy an item?” Jasmine asked as she altered the arch of Mitchell’s dark brows with several adept strokes of the eyebrow brush.

Mitchell met Jasmine’s gaze in the mirror. “No. Why?”

Jasmine switched to a wider brush and picked up a dark shade of toner. As she accentuated the width of Mitchell’s naturally strong jaw, she said, “She’s hot for you.”

Mitchell twitched. Everywhere. “There’s nothing going on with us.”

“Uh-
huh.
“ Jasmine walked around from behind the chair and held out her hand, then pulled the nouveau drag king to his feet. She checked Mitch’s beard shadow, ran her eyes over the hard muscled chest, let her eyes drop to the prominence of genitalia nestled in soft dark leather.
Nice.
“Do you want there to be?”

“Want what to be?” Mitch was aware of the languid scrutiny, and unexpectedly, he got hard.
If this keeps happening, I’m going to go nuts.

“Something to be going on between you and Miss Cutie-Pie.”

“Yeah.” It felt so good to say.

“Well, then, stud,” Jasmine said, taking Mitch’s hand, “I think you’re about to get your chance.”

———

When she heard footsteps, Sandy looked up from the couch where she’d been nursing her second beer and rifling through a magazine about vintage cars. Jasmine walked into the living room with her arm around the waist of …
Oh fuck,
Dell.
Look at you.
You are so, so hot.

“Sandy, this is Mitch.”

Watts’s voice echoed in Sandy’s memory.
You gotta
be
the person twenty-four seven, because if you lose it for just a minute, you’ll get made. And then…

“Hiya, Sandy.” Mitch hoped his nervousness didn’t show. Sandy hadn’t said a word, and he couldn’t tell if she liked it or not
. Maybe she doesn’t go for drag; maybe she doesn’t go for
girls
any way at all. Christ, maybe she’s straight. Mayb…

Well, if
he’s
supposed to be my
boyfriend
, time to prove it.
Sandy put the bottle on the coffee table and walked directly to Mitch, not stopping until her breasts nearly touched his chest. Wordlessly, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.

Mitch’s head spun wildly. He had imagined a lot of reactions when she saw him, but not this. His first thought, before the incredible feel of her mouth drove every thought from his burning brain, was that she was only kissing him because he was a guy. But then he knew that this was not what Sandy did when she was with men. This was something special, just between them. Then he couldn’t think at all because his heart was pounding so loudly and his insides were turning over, and his legs were shaking too badly to do anything but struggle to stay upright.
And God can she kiss.

“So,
boyfriend,
“ Sandy said calmly after she broke the kiss, “you promised me pizza.”

Jasmine laughed, shaking her head in delight and admiration for Sandy’s aplomb. “Mitch, love, if that’s the way she asks for pizza, you might want to go for a four-star restaurant next time.”

Jasmine let herself out, her soft laughter drifting back to them.

“Is it okay?” Mitch asked quietly when they were alone. He still hadn’t moved, and neither had Sandy.

“You look great.”

“You okay calling me Mitch?”

Sandy shook her head, exasperated. “You
are
Mitch. You have to be, or else you’re going to get your ass killed.” She took Mitch’s hand and squeezed. “You told Frye you could do this, and I’m starting to believe it. So
do
it, rookie.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Sandy smiled a small, secretive smile. “Because you looked a little nervous, and that’s not how you need to look. You need to look tough and sure, and I figured a kiss would get you on track.”
And because you looked so good I just
had
to.

“I’m not nervous now.” Mitch’s voice was low, husky.

“Then it worked.” Sandy dared a quick peak into Mitch’s eyes. They were that dark, dark blue again. Hazy and hot. She liked knowing that look was for her. But she wasn’t ready for more. “You gonna feed me or not?”

“Yeah.” Mitch’s throat ached with wanting her, but it would have to be on her terms. He pulled out his leather jacket, shrugged into it, and then held open a second, softer brown one. “It’s getting cold at night now.”

Sandy hesitated and then turned to let Mitch slide the coat over her arms. For just a second she leaned back against him. She felt the quicksilver brush of lips against her neck, and she shivered. “Thanks.”

“Come on,
girlfriend,
“ Mitch murmured close to Sandy’s ear. “Let’s go get that pizza.”

Sloan closed her eyes and rubbed her face wearily. The symbols on the screen had blurred to the point where she knew she’d miss something critical soon. She was alone in the CSU lab, and the quiet colluded with her exhaustion to lull her into torpor.

“One more scan,” she muttered, “then I’ll call it quits for the night.”

She opened the root directory and began to search for the activity log from the time period in question. Data scrolled by, all routine. So routine, in fact, that she almost
did
miss it. A password query, a series of them, and then a password change—followed by file access.

Sloan jolted upright, her attention totally focused, her mind absolutely clear. Fingers flying over the keyboard, she was quickly immersed in the data stream, functioning on a subconscious level, guided by the intuitive logic leaps that only the master hackers ever attained. She was on the trail of her quarry, and she was close.

———

Mitch looked around the small dark empty apartment that was just down the hall from Sandy’s. “I’ll be fine here tonight.”

“There’s no
furniture.
“ Sandy tugged his arm toward the door. “What are you gonna do, crash on the floor?”

“I’ll get a few things tomorrow. I won’t need that much.”

“Fuck that. You’re sleeping at my place.”

Ignoring the fact that he’d never won an argument with Sandy yet, Mitch was too tired to argue. It had been nerve-wracking being out in public with Sandy, even though they had hung out in the Tenderloin around 13th and Locust where just about anything goes. No one had seemed to pay them any attention as they’d walked around, Mitch with his arm around Sandy’s waist, her with a thumb hooked over his belt in the back. Despite their apparent anonymity, that was only part of the problem. For three hours, Sandy had been all over him, and it was driving him crazy.

She rubbed her hand up and down his back while they walked, squeezed his butt from time to time, and sidled up to him when they stopped to look in the window of a video store, her pelvis pressed to his hip, her breasts against his arm, her fingers stroking his abdomen just above his pants. When they ended the evening in a neighborhood bar because Sandy had said it would be good for them to be seen together, she’d practically climbed into his lap. All of which had left his nerves shattered and his body screaming for relief.

Much more of
anything
from her and he was going to come out of his skin.

“Okay, fine,” Mitch conceded as they walked down the short dingy hall and into the startling warm oasis of Sandy’s apartment. “I’ll crash on
your
floor. At least it’s clean.”

Sandy regarded him steadily. “You can sleep with me.”

“I can’t.” Mitch’s voice was low, nearly mournful.

“Why not?”

“Sandy, for God’s sake.”
Jesus, she never makes anything easy.
“I’m gay.”

“No foolin’.” Sandy’s smile when she looked back at the handsome drag king was oddly tender.  “So? Can’t you be good?”

“Usually.” Mitchell blew out a frustrated breath, rubbing at the restraining ace on her chest.
I want you to touch me so bad. If you’re next to me…
“But not tonight. I’m so wound up…I…I just don’t think I can.”

“Well, I’m not worried, Dell.” Sandy took a step closer, which in the tiny room brought them within touching distance. “And I’m not scared.”

Mitchell’s heart tripled-timed. “Well,
I
am.”

“Does that hurt?” Sandy asked with concern, pointing to Mitchell’s chest. “You’ve been rubbing it.”

“Itches.”

Sandy took Mitchell’s hand. “Come over here and sit down.”

“Sandy…”

“Be quiet, Dell,” Sandy said as she put both hands on Mitchell’s shoulders and gently forced her down on the edge of the sofa bed. Then she knelt between Mitchell’s legs and reached for the bottom of the white T-shirt. Her belly brushed the leather between Mitchell’s thighs.

“I’m so turned on,” Mitchell confessed in a whisper. “You’re making me so nuts, I can’t stand it.”

“Good.”

When Sandy pulled the shirt from her pants, Mitchell closed her eyes and leaned back on her elbows, unable to do anything but surrender. Her stomach was in knots, her skin on fire, her clitoris full and hard and pounding. Whatever this was, whatever this wasn’t—no matter what anyone said—she needed it. Needed Sandy’s small hands on her, needed that warm mouth…

“Oh Jesus,” Mitchell moaned as Sandy leaned forward and kissed her abdomen. “Your lips are so soft.”

“Mmm, so’s your skin,” Sandy murmured, licking a circle around the tight navel. Her breasts rested against Mitchell’s fly, and she rubbed them back and forth slowly as she worked her lips over the taut muscles. “You taste good.”

The weight of Sandy’s body pressing into Mitchell’s crotch forced the firm form in her pants harder against her straining flesh. Discomfort became acute stimulation, and her clitoris twitched with warning spasms.

“Wait…wait a second,” Mitchell uttered in desperation, one hand cradling Sandy’s cheek, the other reaching for the fly of her leathers. “Let me get this out of here.”

Sandy grasped her hand and looked up. “Leave it for a little while. It’s sexy.”

Mitchell blushed and met Sandy’s eyes. “It’s not…it won’t work.”

“I don’t
need
it to work, idiot.” Sandy pulled the T-shirt over Mitchell’s head and reached for the tape holding the ace wrap in place. “I know who you are, Dell.”

Mitchell looked down as Sandy carefully released her breasts, the blond head bent over her naked flesh. With trembling fingers, Mitchell stroked Sandy’s cheek, then ran her thumb over the full pink lips. Sandy bit the tip of her thumb, and her thighs tightened. When Sandy brushed her fingers over Mitchell’s nipples, she tensed and cried out.

Sandy’s breath came faster, her hands shaking as she flattened her palms over the small firm breasts, massaging them gently. Moaning in surprise, she felt herself get wet. She hadn’t really expected that. All night she’d told herself she was just playing with Mitch to get him used to being treated like a guy. But she’d enjoyed it—more than enjoyed it. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she’d been hot all night. And she wanted Dell now, wanted her the way she hadn’t thought herself capable of wanting anyone—not this way, not in her body, in her blood. “Oh yeah, you feel
so
fucking good.”

Through eyes gone dim with arousal, Mitchell watched Sandy suck a hard nipple into her mouth, and the sight and sensation drove her close to the edge. Whimpering faintly, dangling on the brink of exploding, Mitchell turned her head and sought Sandy’s gaze. “Please, Sandy…please.”

“Mmm,” Sandy murmured, leaning close. “You are so sexy when you’re hot, you know that? I wanna keep you this way for a while.”

“I’m gonna die…” Mitchell ached for the feel of skin against her skin, for Sandy’s flesh beneath her hands.

They both jerked as a shrill ring pierced the room. Mitchell stiffened as Sandy cursed.

“Mother fucker.”

“What is it?” Mitchell asked, her stomach so tight with unrequited need she thought she’d be sick.

“My phone.” Sandy’s voice was wild.

“Ignore it, okay.” Mitchell drew Sandy’s hand down to her fly and pressed her fingers to the swelling there. She whimpered; she couldn’t help it. “Please.”

The sound shrilled again.

“No—it’s my
phone.
Jesus Christ.” Sandy was having trouble thinking clearly. She was so excited her brain was mush. “
Frye’s
phone. That’s her calling.”

Mitchell went cold.

The phone rang a third time and Sandy lunged for her purse. “Yeah, what?”

“How you doin’, Sandy?”

“Peachy.” Sandy glared at Mitchell who had sat up and was pulling on her T-shirt in quick angry motions.

“Did you get Mitchell squared away?”

“Yeah.” Sandy laughed without humor.
Oh yeah, I took care of her all right.
Fuck.

“
I still need the street intel on those filmmakers.”

“Okay. When?”

“How about right now.”

Sandy panicked. “You can’t come up here.”

“I wasn’t going to.”
A beat of silence.
“What’s the matter? You got someone up there with you?”

Oh no, just Dell with a hard-on and pissed as hell. Jesus, she’d probably go for your throat right now.
Sandy made a fast decision. “A john.”

“That wasn’t the deal. You work for me, you don’t turn tricks.”

“Look, I’ll meet you right now.”

Another pause.
“Okay. Meet me at Woody’s, in the back room.”

Sandy closed the phone and faced Mitchell. “I have to go out.”

“She calls and you jump? She that good?”

“You’re a
jerk.
“ Sandy gathered her small purse and headed for the door.

“Take my jacket.”

Sandy pulled a tiny royal blue satin zip-up top from the coat tree by her door and slipped it on. “Don’t you know by now that they don’t buy what they can’t see?”

Mitchell paled. “Sandy…”

But she was talking to a closed door.