Suspect Passions (21 page)

In less than twenty minutes, she was showered, dressed in capri pants with a camisole top, and walking into the club. Dana would’ve stood out in a crowd even without her lime-green workout shorts and matching sports bra. She was a couple of inches taller than most women in the place and considerably more buff, verging on too pumped for Syd. But desperate times and all. She needed to be reminded why she was here and was glad Dana hadn’t bothered to change clothes. Nothing said sex like a scantily clad woman.

Dana flagged her over to a small table in the back where Jesse was just delivering two dirty martinis. She gave Syd a scathing look as she deposited the drinks with an unnecessarily loud thump. The precious cargo sloshed over the edges of the glasses and onto the table. “My bad. I’ll get someone to clean that up just any day now.” She stared at Dana’s attire, rolled her eyes at Syd, and walked away mumbling about the dress code for a gym and a bar.

“I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

A part of Syd wanted to confess that she wasn’t sure either, but the other part simply wanted to get laid so she could end a long dry spell and forget Regan Desanto. Neither seemed an appropriate thought to share. “It’s good to see you again.” She lied only marginally. She was sure it was
going
to be good. “You want to go to your place?”

“We just got our drinks. Don’t I even deserve a pretend warm-up?” Dana’s crooked smile said her words and her intent weren’t the same.

“I’ve never known you to need one,” Syd replied. “You look pretty hot in that outfit already. Let’s just get out of here.”

“You must be terribly horny. You know I like that.” Dana leaned toward Syd and stared at her breasts with the eyes of an appreciative admirer. “Grab those drinks and follow me.”

Syd liked to let her partners think they were in control, until they weren’t. She walked behind Dana, enjoying her strut and the assertive set of her shoulders. Her red Mustang was parked behind the club in a dead-end alley surrounded by buildings, perfectly secluded. The vehicle was a little small, and the aroma of pizza from across the street was more likely to make her hungry than horny, but Syd had fucked women in less-appealing circumstances.

When they reached the car, she leaned against the side and handed Dana her martini. “Here’s to getting reacquainted.”

She downed her own in two gulps and threw the empty glass against the brick wall behind them. Dana’s eyes sparked with excitement as she followed Syd’s example.

“You’re really on the edge tonight, aren’t you? Let’s don’t waste time.” She opened the car door, slid the front seats completely forward, folded them over, and waved Syd in. Once they were settled in the back, she kissed the side of Syd’s neck and the sensitive lobes of her ears. She massaged her usually responsive inner thighs, ran her hand up the inside of Syd’s camisole, and cupped her unencumbered breasts. “I love your tits. They’re perfect. Perfect size, perfect nipples, perfect taste. Just perfect.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Syd lied convincingly. “Enjoy them all you want.” She just wanted to feel that rush of excitement surge through her and take her away from the idly rambling thoughts of her wayward mind.

Dana stripped off her two-piece outfit with practiced ease, scooted Syd down on the seat, and knelt between her legs. “It makes me so hot when you say that. I’m already wet.” She slid a finger between her legs and raised the slick, shiny appendage to prove her point. “See.”

Syd closed her eyes and willed herself into the physicality of the moment. Dana’s hands were rough against the smoothness of her breasts, not soft and worshipping like Regan’s. She told herself she liked the contrast, but her body disagreed. Her nipples refused to pucker even slightly. She circled her hips and pelvis against Dana’s thigh, hoping to stir the flame that always burned there. Dana raised Syd’s garment and lowered her head to her breast. Her mouth was hot and inviting. Her tongue expertly stroked and teased, but still no response. Dana didn’t seem to notice, her own excitement building.

“Oh, God, Syd. Will you touch me, please?”

Syd reminded herself that this was what she did. She loved driving women crazy until their need for her was so great that they begged for release. It was a powerful feeling of control and a most seductive aphrodisiac. But tonight her body refused to cooperate. No amount of foreplay or pleading from Dana could compel her into arousal. And Syd knew why. Her hands were not Regan’s. Her mouth was not Regan’s. Dana was not Regan, but that’s who Syd kept seeing, as much as she hated to admit it. She wanted to go back to her perfectly normal sexual life before Regan Desanto, to anonymous liaisons for the pure pleasure of it, to no worries or regrets the morning after.

That one night with Regan, Syd had been emotionally weak, exhausted after the trial and overcome with joy at the victory. She’d simply needed a quick release and became the aggressor before Regan could resist. That uncharacteristic behavior would not happen again. Now she was stronger, back at work and in her element. She stared down at the young brunette worshiping at the altar of her breasts and knew it wasn’t going to work. She had to get Regan out of her system once and for all. She needed to make Regan want her desperately, like all the others. Make her the aggressor without any power. Then she could relegate Regan to the status of her other sex partners; then she’d be free again.

“Stop.” Syd eased back. “Dana, you need to stop.”

“No, I don’t. I’m almost there. Please.”

As Syd worked herself to a seated position, her breast snapped out of Dana’s mouth with a loud pop. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”

Dana stared at her with horrified eyes. “But I’m a mess. You can’t leave me like this.”

Syd straightened her clothes, opened the car door, and climbed out. “I’m sorry.”

As Syd hurried toward the club, Dana peeled out of the parking lot, shouting something about her being a tease. Syd wasn’t often on the frustrated end of a lover’s emotions, and Dana’s anger surprised her.

“You owe me two martini glasses,” Jesse bellowed from behind the bar as Syd approached. “I draw the friendship line at stealing glassware.”

Syd stood by the bar too confused and antsy to sit. “I’ll pay for them. I’m sorry. I seem to be saying that a lot tonight.”

Jesse’s wrinkled brow said she was still annoyed, but concern won out. “What’s the matter. Miss Tall Buff and Horny not do it for you tonight?”

“That’s not even funny.”

“I think it’s hilarious. I could’ve told you that wasn’t going to work.”

“What makes you such an expert on what works or doesn’t work for me?” Syd regretted the question immediately. She’d just given Jesse the opening she needed.

“Well, since you asked, let’s get straight to the point. You’re hung up on that attorney.”

In spite of herself, Syd hesitated, wondering if that was even remotely possible.

Her silence was enough for Jesse. “See, I told you.” The New York accent made her smugness sound even more pronounced.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not hung up on anybody.”

Jesse retrieved a beer from the cooler beneath the bar, opened it, and slid it down the counter to a yelling customer without taking her eyes off Syd. “Let’s review the evidence, shall we? How many times a week do you usually get laid?”

Syd wasn’t in the mood for a walk down the corridor of her conquests, but she knew Jesse wouldn’t let it go until she made her point, presuming she really had one. “It varies. If I’m seeing someone, it’s…more.”

“And when did you and Regan sleep together?”

“A month ago.” Syd didn’t need Jesse to do the math. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“That’s never stopped you. How many times have you gotten laid since then, not counting failed attempts like tonight?”

“None.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that.” She made a point of leaning closer, as if she’d suddenly gone deaf.

“None.”

“I rest my case.”

“You don’t have a case. I’ve just been busy trying to get my feet back on the ground at work. It’s not easy.”

“I can see you need further convincing. How many times have I thrown singles nights so you could meet women in the last four weeks?”

Syd groaned.

“Right, and I’ve paraded women of every color, shape, size, culture, socioeconomic status, and sexual persuasion under your nose. You’ve hardly even taken a whiff. Face it, Syd, you’re hung up on Regan and the old style isn’t working for you anymore. You need to shed it.”

“If you’re going to pass out this shitty advice, you’d better get a shrink’s license. And consider giving free drinks. It’ll go down easier.” Syd set her glass down. “I gotta go home.”

The short walk to her loft seemed too long as Jesse’s assessment of her situation spun through her head again. Damn it. She knew she hadn’t had sex in a month. Anybody who stood within three feet of her could probably tell from the pent-up current whizzing around inside her. It was like dancing on top of an electric fence, and no self-help devices were helping.

She recalled the complete satiation she’d felt making love with Regan, like nothing she’d ever experienced. She’d always considered sex a purely physical act with entirely physical results. When she’d woken up next to Regan the following morning, her entire body was exhausted yet she was simultaneously ravenous to have her again. Watching Regan sleep, her heart and soul had ached with something so foreign and frightening that it had driven her from her home without a word. She’d written a note and bolted because she couldn’t trust herself to stay and not tell Regan just how confused she felt.

If these
feelings
for Regan were so wonderful how could they be so terrifying at the same time? Syd knew the answer. She’d been out of her element and behaved in a way that was not comfortable for her. The next morning, when the lust wore off, she’d realized her mistake. Nothing had really changed for her. It had taken the past month to figure that out. Now that she understood why she’d behaved uncharacteristically she simply had to convince her body and heart that it was okay to enjoy Regan and then let go. Under less-stressful circumstances, she would discover the truth—that there was no special magic. She was still Syd Cabot and Regan was just another attractive woman. That’s where her new plan would come into play—tease, seduce, and conquer.

Regan Desanto would be hers one final, purging time.

*

Regan parked across the street from the Thai restaurant and watched Syd walk toward the Cop Out in the next block. The sight of her dispatched flashes of heat through her body that were quickly replaced by cold chills. She wondered who Syd would liaise with tonight, but decided she really didn’t want to know. Her former client’s life was no longer any of her concern, personally or professionally. The case was over and they’d had their one night of passion. It was what they’d both agreed upon, so why did it still bother her that Syd had left that morning without a word?

Regan grimaced. She was upset because she wanted to believe she was different. In her fantasy she hoped that Syd would want more. But what did she really have to offer a woman who could have anyone she desired? Her own partner had found her unattractive and dumped her after fifteen years. Her sexual experience was mediocre at best and had probably been uninspiring, perhaps even boring for Syd.

But Syd’s lovemaking had been anything but boring. It had physically released Regan to be adventurous. The memory of their passion burrowed deep into the cells of her body and throbbed like an incurable disease. Each night she tried to claw it out with her inadequate hands or some ineffective hunk of molded thermoplastic, but the ache persisted. Syd had satisfied her taste for Regan. It was over. But as many times as she’d told herself she was okay with it, Regan knew she was lying. She’d carefully reconstructed her emotional barriers and rationally accepted that a one-night stand was for the best. But the tiny hairline fractures that Syd had caused in her defenses would not heal. She’d seen glimpses of a gentler, more caring Syd and she
wanted
to believe they had a chance. She
had
to believe that what they shared was not only in her mind.

She watched Syd enter the club and physically ached at the visual absence of her. If she couldn’t be with Syd, she’d have to be away from her completely. Seeing her by accident was not going to be an option. No one had ever affected her this way, making her crave and obsess. And this woman would not do it again either. She had to regain control.

Resisting the urge to chase Syd into the bar, Regan walked instead into the restaurant where she was meeting her old college friend and potential future boss. Nancy Hyde waved from the intimate window table and rose to greet her. She’d chosen a cozy spot out of the main flow of traffic but with a great view of the sunset.

They hugged and Regan smiled at her friend who never seemed to age.

Nancy had attended college late in life and specialized in child and family law. She was ten years older than Regan but looked like her contemporary. Her soft facial features and green eyes were accentuated by platinum blond hair in a tight gamine cut. She was the kind of exotically statuesque woman who could pull off short hair and look hot doing so.

“You look great.” Regan assessed the fringed leather jacket, tweed pants, cashmere sweater, and ridiculously high-heeled Manolos and decided that family law paid very well. “How do you manage to never change?”