Uncommon Romance (15 page)

“Yeah.” Abby was parched.

Simone took a drink, then brought her mouth to Abby’s. She shared the liquid through their kiss, and Abby licked at Simone’s mouth to consume every taste. The next drink, Simone offered to Abby directly from the bottle. She held it to Abby’s lips and tipped it back. Abby gulped down swallow after swallow, until she could hold no more. The excess flowed down her neck and chest, and still Simone kept pouring.

Simone finally pulled the bottle away and set it on the floor next to them. She licked her way over Abby’s throat and chest, flicking her tongue gently over Abby’s nipples. She worked her way back up to Abby’s neck, sucking hard on the skin there. The sensation of her blood being pulled to the surface, disrupted from its normal flow by the demanding suction of Simone’s mouth, excited Abby. Abby could only imagine how much makeup it would take to cover the mark for work the next day, yet she didn’t want Simone to ever stop. This woman had proved herself capable of sucking an orgasm out of Abby from two different points on her body—first her clit, then her nipple. She’d gladly give her body up to experimentation to see if they could expand the list of successes. Simone released her evenly, then licked over the mark with the flat of her tongue.

Abby was still recovering as Simone returned to her seated position above her. Once again, she tapped Abby on the shoulder.

“Finish, please.”

Simone sat before Abby, statue perfect, poised and unflustered, as Abby gasped for breath. The sight of Simone spreading herself open, wet desire clinging to her lips and glistening over her inner thighs, excited Abby further. How did Simone manage to look so calm? It irritated the hell out of Abby, and it was her personal mission from this moment on to upend Simone’s composure.

“Are you always in control?” Abby asked the question as she leaned in to suck on a small patch of skin high on Simone’s inner thigh. It was much harder to balance with her hands tied behind her, and she wavered for a moment. She sucked harder than she intended. Simone’s answering flood of new arousal pleased Abby.

“With you?” Simone gasped, the first verbal sign she was feeling the energy between them as acutely as Abby. Simone threaded her hands into Abby’s hair and held her firmly in place. “I don’t feel like I’m in control at all.”

Abby licked and sucked and worried the sensitive skin at the juncture of Simone’s thighs. When she felt Simone relax marginally, Abby pulled the skin between her teeth and clamped down. She bit much harder than she’d ever dared to with any other lover and worried she might have pushed too far with Simone as well. Simone’s hold on her hair increased to the point of being painful, and her legs shook. She held Abby in place until the tremor subsided, then forcefully moved Abby until her mouth was pressing hard into Simone’s clit.

“Here, please.” Simone had been painfully polite with all of her commands, including the requisite
please
with each one. This time, Abby felt the plea deep inside her. She could feel Simone straining to not thrust against Abby’s face. Simone was still well in control.

Abby licked Simone’s clit, amazed at how very hard Simone was beneath her tongue. She smoothed the rough part of her tongue over it in broad, sweeping circles, over and over until Simone jerked on her hair, hard and insistent.

“Stop teasing me.” Simone ground the words out through gritted teeth. She was desperately close.

Abby sucked Simone into her mouth. She cradled Simone’s clit between her teeth and flicked her tongue relentlessly. This time she wouldn’t stop until Simone came.

Simone’s legs shook and her body was strung so tight she barely remained seated. Abby lapped at an endless stream of wetness and was lost in the experience. Simone had glorious orgasms, if the moisture between her legs was any indication. She released her grip on Abby’s hair abruptly and slumped back into the chair.

Abby sat back on her heels and waited. Simone’s essence coated her chin, and the thought of her entire body being slathered in Simone made Abby smile. It was something they could try another time.

When Simone’s breathing evened out, Abby asked, “How are you doing up there?”

Simone immediately sat up straight, all signs of recovery erased. “Fabulous. You?’

“Never better.” Abby was surprised to find she meant it. They still had a great deal to sort out between them, but she was confident they would make it work.

“Good.” Simone stood, bringing her crotch within range of intimate contact. Abby’s mouth watered. She was ready for more. Simone laughed and side-stepped until she was clear of Abby and the chair. Simone asked, “Can you stand or do you need help?”

“Depends.” Abby angled her arms to the side to show she was still restrained. “Are you planning to leave me like this?”

“For now, yes.” Simone removed her own shirt and bra as she spoke. They joined the stack of clothes on the table.

“Then I might. Let me try, though.” Abby leaned to the left and brought her right leg forward until she could get her foot under her. So far, so good. She shifted and moved slowly until she was able to do the same with her left. It wasn’t pretty, but she stood on her own.

“Nice job.” Simone stroked her face and then kissed her softly. Abby didn’t understand how she could transition so easily from red-hot sexy to almost chaste.

Simone worked quietly to remove Abby’s slacks and panties. She knelt before her and kissed the inside of Abby’s knee. With her palm cupped gently around Abby’s calf, Simone encouraged her to step out of her pants. She collected the clothes and folded them as well.

“What now?”

“You should know I’m not great at relationships,” Simone said.

Simone’s confession caught Abby off guard. It wasn’t surprising so much as out of left field. Abby had expected further direction for their sexual encounter, not emotional disclosure.

Abby wanted to hug her, but her bound wrists prevented the contact. Instead she leaned into Simone, pressing their bodies close together. “We can take it slow.”

Simone looked Abby up and down and grinned. “It’s a little late for slow, don’t you think?”

Abby imagined she looked quite debauched.

“I meant emotionally. There’s absolutely no reason for us to slow down as far as sex is concerned.”

Simone drew Abby into the circle of her arms and held her. “I meant emotionally, too, Abby. I’ve been falling for you since tenth grade. There’s no way I could turn back now.”

As she spoke, Simone freed Abby’s hands. Abby felt a sense of loss as the bra fell away from her wrists.

Simone winked and said, “Don’t look so disappointed. I can always tie you up again later.”

“Do you mean it?” Abby wrapped herself up in Simone’s embrace. Maybe having her hands freed was a good thing after all.

“That I can tie you up? Test me.” Simone bit out the last two words, and Abby instantly straightened. Simone’s voice evoked the most wonderful visceral response in her.

“No, I meant the emotionally-falling-for-me part. Do you mean it?”

Simone swallowed and nodded. Her eyes were clear and vulnerable. “I do.”

Abby laughed because her only other option was to cry. She had too much happiness inside her to not release some of it. Simone scowled at her.

Abby raised herself up and kissed Simone on the nose. “Then we’ll be okay.”

She led Simone down the hall toward her bedroom. She still had a mountain of unanswered questions, but she felt a certainty she’d never known before. Finally, after years of separation, she and Simone were together. And for the first time, they were on the same track. Abby planned to keep Simone around for a long time to come. They would sort out the details together.

Jude Lassiter stepped off the bus and dropped her bag at her feet. She should have rented a damn car when she had the chance, because arriving at the FBI training facility via bus felt a little too much like boot camp. She’d hated boot camp. She’d given the marine corps her required four years, then promptly joined civilian ranks. She didn’t want to relive it twenty years later.

“Are you Detective Lassiter?” A woman wearing reflective-lens aviator glasses and a FBI windbreaker greeted Jude. The name Hollis was printed on the front of the jacket, opposite the FBI logo.

Jude pushed her own glasses onto her head. She preferred to look people in the eye. “I am.”

“Special Agent Hollis. I’m in charge of your training.” Hollis didn’t offer her hand in greeting.

Jude nodded. She couldn’t say
nice to meet you
, as she was undecided.

“You’re a day late.” Hollis kept her glasses on, and the rest of her face gave away nothing.

“I was wrapping up a case.” It was unfortunate that the murderers in Portland didn’t take the FBI’s training schedule into account when committing their crimes. She wouldn’t apologize for doing her job well.

“We’ve already started. Come with me.” Hollis turned on her heel and left Jude gaping at her.

“Wait. I need to drop my bag and get changed.”

Hollis stopped and waited for Jude to catch up. She regarded her carefully, her eyes still hidden but clearly traveling the length of Jude’s body. “Bring the bag with you and your clothes are fine.” She resumed her journey.

They passed a building labeled Housing Unit C, the unit Jude was assigned to, according to the detailed itinerary sent to her by the FBI.

Jude stopped following. “My room is here. I’m going to drop this off.” She tugged on the strap around her shoulder.

Hollis stopped a second time, her back ramrod straight. She turned and lowered her sunglasses, and Jude saw her eyes for the first time. They were bright, angry blue. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Jude was forty-two fucking years old. “Absolutely.”

Hollis slammed her glasses back in place and gestured toward the door with a broad sweep of her hand. “By all means.”

Jude carried her bag into the barracks, knowing with certainty that Hollis would find a way to punish her for the delay. Her gut clenched at the thought, and she hoped this didn’t turn out to be a case of all bark and no bite. She wanted to feel what kind of damage Hollis could inflict with her teeth.

Jude found her room with the help of a man who seemed to like the role of tour guide more than his paid position of maintenance engineer. She dropped her bag on the unused bed—her roommate had clearly checked in on time—and changed into the FBI-issued shorts and T-shirt that were waiting for her. Regardless of what Hollis said, slacks and a button-down were not appropriate when a good portion of the training promised to be physical, according to the agenda.

Hollis stood exactly where Jude had left her, with her glasses firmly in place and her face placid. She held the clipboard lightly in both hands like an afterthought.

“You’re ready now?” Hollis greeted her with cool professionalism. All the heat that had bubbled to the surface was gone.

“Yes, sorry it took so long.” Jude’s shorts rode up and she refused to adjust them in front of Hollis. God knew she’d been in much less comfortable positions for much longer. The fabric might have been annoying, but it wasn’t enough to break her.

Hollis evaluated her and Jude wanted to remove those damn glasses, regardless of the consequences. Hollis smiled, and a cool bolt of energy worked its way up Jude’s back.

“The others are waiting.” She turned and continued on her previous path.

This time Jude didn’t try to walk beside her, but rather stayed a step behind. The pull of Hollis’s slacks around her ass as she walked was mesmerizing. Until she was commanded not to look, there was no reason not to enjoy the view, so she indulged herself.

“Here we are.” Hollis stopped at the exterior entrance of a small building. “Try not to be too disruptive.” She said the words like she knew the inevitable outcome from Jude would in fact be large-scale commotion. Not that Jude was particularly unruly, but with Hollis staring at her like she was a massive disappointment, Jude was willing to fill the role of troublemaker.

“I’ll do my best.” She stepped into the semi-dark room and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. The other trainees were seated facing forward at small rectangular tables in groups of two. All together, she estimated around twenty participants. They were watching a training video. She headed toward the only available seat as discreetly as possible.

“Hey, you must be Jude.” The person already seated at the table leaned closer to Jude and spoke in a whisper. “I’m your roommate, Reeva.”

Reeva was at least twenty years younger than Jude and dressed in slacks and a blouse, similar to the outfit Jude had just changed out of. The air conditioning in this room was cranked down to arctic, and Jude suppressed a shiver. Hollis was watching.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jude went through the niceties of introduction. She’d be sharing a room with Reeva for the next three weeks. Civility would go a long way toward making that work.

“Do you want to borrow my jacket? You look cold.” Reeva had a standard-issue FBI windbreaker, just like Hollis’s, draped over the back of her chair.

Jude looked at the jacket. It had a soft inner lining that promised warmth. Hollis cleared her throat and Jude looked in her direction. She was staring right at Jude, one eyebrow arched in challenge. Jude really, really wanted that jacket. More than that, she didn’t want Hollis to know how badly that was true.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Jude folded her hands on the desk in front of her and smiled at Hollis. She was willing to play any game Hollis had in mind.

Hollis dropped her eyebrow, but the challenge remained on her face. The dim lighting prevented Jude from seeing her eyes clearly. At least she wasn’t wearing those damn glasses anymore. Hollis stood straight, hands behind her back like a soldier at ease. She needed to relax.

An explosion sounded in the front of the room, an on-screen bombing that Jude wasn’t prepared to hear. She flinched at the noise before she could stop herself. Hollis smirked.

Jude sat up straighter and forced her eyes to the front. The film depicted a prisoner being questioned. They were using techniques that would get Jude fired, and probably sued, for even thinking about. Clearly this was the “what not to do in the real world” section of the training.

“I could never do that.” Reeva whispered in her ear, her voice strained. Jude looked in her direction. Her face was unnaturally pale.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to.” Jude could think of a couple of people she’d arrested over the years that she’d like to torture violently. The scene they were watching paled in comparison to what she’d mentally acted out on some of her detainees. She’d spent a lot of hours with the department shrink working through those inappropriate urges a few years back after she’d shot a suspect. It was her first and only time firing her weapon at another person, and she preferred to keep it that way.

“I hope you’re right.” Reeva gripped the arms of her chair tight and swallowed. Jude had spent enough time breaking in rookie detectives to recognize when someone was trying not to hurl. She hoped like hell that Reeva made it to the trashcan if she couldn’t hold it back.

The video ended and the lights came up. Hollis went to the front of the room and said, “Thoughts?”

“We’re not going to have to do that, right?” a man toward the front asked. He looked as unsettled at Reeva.

“Not likely.” Hollis’s tone gave nothing away, but something in the way she held herself, the barely contained sneer that almost rode to the surface, told Jude that she judged him unworthy and weak if he couldn’t do this in case his country needed it.

The man nodded and Reeva exhaled a little too loudly.

“Thank God.”

Hollis regarded Reeva with that same placid yet somehow judgmental expression. Jude almost felt bad for her.

“Tell me,” Hollis looked directly at Jude, “has anyone in this room ever actually interrogated a suspect?”

Jude dutifully raised her hand. She was the only one.

“And what are your thoughts on it…” Hollis referenced her clipboard. Jude was certain she didn’t need to. “Ms. Lassiter?”

“
Detective
Lassiter.” Jude bit out the first word a little harder than she intended. Certainly harder than Hollis expected, and the raised eyebrow returned.

“Yes, Detective, pardon me. Can you share with the rest of us what it’s like to interrogate someone?”

“Nothing like that.” She waved toward the still-motion frame on the screen, one man captured in agony, the other in restrained superiority. “I give them every reason to trust me, and that usually gets them to talk.” Sometimes it didn’t, but there was no way she was sharing some of the things she’d done in order to get a confession in front of a room full of strangers.

“And if they don’t?”

“If they don’t, they don’t. You go back to the evidence.” Forensic science was a goddamned miracle. The lab techs had saved more than one dead case for Jude, and she respected them for it.

“Which department do you work in, Detective?” Hollis twisted her title out to make it take up far more time and space than required. By the time it reached Jude, it was sharp and pointed. It hit her low and hard and she liked it.

“Homicide.”

Hollis nodded and crossed the front of the lecture area. She set a slow, deliberate pace, then retraced her steps when she reached the end. “You’re smart to trust your forensics. But tell me, why wouldn’t that work most of the time when dealing with terrorist threats?”

“In homicide, the crime is done. It’s already been committed, so there’s evidence to find. With a terrorist threat, you’re looking at a potential crime that hasn’t yet happened. That tends to make evidence a little lean.”

“Good. So what do you do in that situation?” Hollis stopped pacing and stared at Jude deliberately.

“What do you mean?”

“When there’s no evidence to follow, where do you turn next? Do you wait for the next event or do you work to prevent it?”

Jude nodded and Hollis looked pleased. The look of approval vanished when Jude started speaking. “I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t agree.”

“Why?” Hollis narrowed her eyes. Reeva gasped.

“It’s not foolproof. You could
question
someone in a very persuasive manner, as depicted in your film, and that person will tell you
anything
to get you to stop. How much time is wasted chasing dead information?”

Hollis picked up a small stack of papers. She rolled it into a tube and smacked it softly into her hand over and over as she said, “But what if you
know
they know something?”

Jude felt every smack the paper made as it connected with Hollis’s palm. It resonated against her skin, traveled down her spine, and landed deep in her gut. And then slid a little lower. Hollis raised one side of her lips in a near-smirk, then dropped it again before Jude could be certain it really happened.

“If you
know
, then you already know what they know and you don’t need them to tell you.”

Hollis’s smile was tight and controlled, and absolutely terrifying. If Jude wasn’t on her shit list before, she definitely was now. Her goose bumps from the cold stood up a little higher with fear and anticipation.

“So you would never interrogate someone in this manner.” It wasn’t a question.

Jude shrugged. “I don’t know.” She’d learned long ago not to underestimate how her desire to get things done often overrode her other sensibilities.

“But you don’t think it’s right.”

“I think a lot of things aren’t right, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do them anyway.”

Hollis nodded and hit a button on the open laptop at the front of the room. The video resumed and the lights dimmed.

Jude tried to focus on the film, but her eyes followed Hollis as she skirted the room. She lost track of her when she passed out of Jude’s field of vision, and the only way to maintain visual would have been to turn in her seat. She wasn’t ready to be that obvious. Yet.

She felt Hollis behind her a split second before warm breath hit her ear. Jude’s muscles tightened and she sat up straighter, but she kept her eyes facing forward. There was a reason Hollis chose to approach her this way, and Jude wasn’t about to challenge her on it at this point.

Hollis stayed there, crouching behind Jude’s chair with her face pressed close for several moments. Jude felt the unmistakable trace of fingers against her skin, dancing along her neck between the loose tendrils of hair that escaped her ponytail.

“I want you in my office.” Hollis whispered into Jude’s ear, low enough that Jude could barely hear it, let alone her classmates. But she definitely felt it. “After class.”

Jude managed a stilted nod and then Hollis was gone. Jude sucked in a breath, and her heart started beating a punishing rhythm.

Holy fuck. She’d been summoned straight to hell, she was sure of it, and she couldn’t wait to get there.

*

“I am so glad that is over.” Reeva was a tad dramatic with her excitement. It was only a video, for Christ’s sake.

“Mmm.” Jude kept her answer noncommittal. She was still operating under the premise that she and Reeva needed to get along to some degree

“A bunch of us are going to grab a drink in the cafeteria. You want to join us?” Reeva asked with such open-faced interest Jude wanted to forgive her for being squeamish.

“Rain check? I have something I need to take care of.” Jude almost wished she could join them. Not because she particularly enjoyed the company of twenty-somethings. Comparatively, they were babies. But she did like the idea of forming some alliances. Police work had taught her many important lessons about life, not the least of which was to make allies carefully and quickly when isolated without her regular backup.