Unfinished Business (Kit Tolliver #12) (The Kit Tolliver Stories) (3 page)

And then what? Where would she go, and what would she do, and why should she even bother?

She glared at her suitcase.
Say something,
she told it.
Are you just going to fucking sit there in silence?

“Let me give you a hand with that.”

It wasn’t the suitcase that broke the silence, but the tall young man across the aisle. She’d noticed him once or twice since he’d boarded in Portland, and had noticed him noticing her. Briefly, she’d allowed herself to speculate on what might have happened if she weren’t on her way to Rita, but the fantasy never got anyplace because her mind had quickly gone back to spinning its wheels, telling her everything that was sure to go wrong in Kirkland.

Now they were slowing as they entered the Seattle station, and he’d taken hold of her suitcase before she could tell him thanks but no thanks.

“I can manage it,” she said. “Really I can.”

He smiled, showing good teeth. “Of course you can,” he said, “but why should you? This way you can allow me to feel manly and useful, and save your strength for the hug you’re going to give your husband.”

Interesting. He knew she wasn’t married, could not have failed to note the absence of a ring on her finger.

Well, she could hold up her end of the conversation. “No husband,” she said.

“Your boyfriend, then.”

She smiled, shook her head.

Well, why not? Rita wouldn’t be there, she would have come to her senses, and there’d be nobody at all to meet her, and where was it written that she had to be alone with her disappointment? He was a good-looking fellow, clean cut and well turned out, and he’d take her out for a decent dinner, and that was a good idea all by itself, because all she’d had to eat all day was the croissant with her morning coffee.

And then she could fuck him, and once she’d done that she could figure out a way to kill him, and then she’d have no choice but to get out of Seattle in a hurry. And she’d give it a few days and then call Rita from Omaha or Dayton or Lynchburg, and—

“Kimmie!”

And there was Rita.

Jesus, how had she forgotten how beautiful the woman was? Just stunning, and positively glowing, and with the most wonderful light shining in her eyes.

She took a step toward her, and before she knew it she was running. And then they were in each other’s arms.

Had she ever kissed anyone like this? Putting every atom of her being into the kiss, drawing all she could of the other person back into herself? Had she? Ever?

“Kimmie, I think that’s your suitcase.”

“How did it—”

“Unless it’s a bomb, but that guy didn’t look like your typical terrorist. He was actually kind of cute.”

“Kind of.”

“I guess at first he thought we were sisters, or best friends, you know? And then when we really got into it he got the message, and his expression changed. I guess he was disappointed.”

“I guess. Where’d he go?”

“He put the suitcase down,” Rita said, “and then I guess he went away, but by that time I was too busy kissing you to pay attention. I never kissed a woman like that.”

“I never kissed
anybody
like that.”

“No, neither did I. I always liked kissing guys, but it’s a completely different thing, isn’t it? God, you’re beautiful.”

“This is nothing. Wait ’til you see me naked.”

“Kimmie!”

“How did you find a parking spot so close?”

“The city reserved it for me,” Rita said, “by putting a fire hydrant there. I figured I’d get a ticket, and I figured I didn’t care, but I guess the meter maid was busy giving somebody a blowjob. Kimmie, I never talked like this before I met you.”

“I’m a terrible influence.”

“You are. I loved the way our tits pressed together when we kissed.”

“You may be disappointed, Ree. Mine are on the small side.”

“Ree.”

“Is it okay to call you that? Or do you hate it?”

“No, I like it. And speaking of tits—”

“That’s right. We were speaking of tits.”

“Mine are these big pillow tits. Maybe you won’t like them.”

“Yeah, I’m disgusted just thinking about them.”

“Really?”

“They’re much too large. Maybe I can whittle away at them with my tongue.”

“We’re gonna have fun, aren’t we, Kimmie?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I’ll do anything you want. You know that, don’t you?”

“Same for me.”

“God, this traffic! But there’s something nice about having to wait, you know?”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“You know what I did? I cooked dinner, isn’t that nuts? It’s a casserole, it’s in the oven keeping warm.”

“I figured you would. I brought the wine.”

“Really? Is it that kind I can’t pronounce?”

“Nuits-Saint-Georges. No, but it’s like that. Another hearty red burgundy, according to the wine store guy in Salem, and I decided to take his word for it. This one’s a Pommard.”

“Poh-mahr.”

“Right.”

“I don’t know, Kimmie. I’m not sure how comfortable I feel with a wine I can actually pronounce.”

“There’s a D on the end, but it’s silent.”

“Well, that’s something. I feel better already.”

A cloth and candles on the table. Good food, good wine. As hungry as she was, all she wanted was to be in bed with Ree. But it was nice to postpone it for a little while. The anticipation was as savory as the meal, as tantalizing as the wine.

Dare I say plangent?

“Kimmie? You want to know a secret? I’m wearing the butt plug.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been wearing it all day. Sometimes I’ll do that. I like how it feels. The fullness, you know? And the idea that nobody knows. Of course there are times when I have to take it out.”

“No kidding.”

“And you gave it to me. That adds to it.”

“I brought you another present.”

“You did?”

“Well, sort of. I picked it up this morning, before I went to the wine store.”

“A sex toy?”

“No, I don’t even know if they sell sex toys in Salem. Well, they must, but I didn’t really go looking for them. And this isn’t a thing. It’s more of a surprise. But it’s for you. Ree, you look completely lost.”

“Well, what do you expect? You’re talking in riddles. Am I supposed to guess? Give me a hint.”

“I went to Brazil for it.”

“You went to
Brazil?
”

“In a manner of speaking. I got a Brazilian.” She got to her feet. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

Lying on her back, with Ree’s head on her shoulder. The bedroom in shadows, with a table lamp in the hallway the only source of light. Ree’s taste in her mouth, Ree’s scent and her own scent permeating the room.

This was how it was supposed to be.

“Yes, Kimmie. It’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Did I say it out loud? I thought I was just thinking it.”

“Maybe that’s all you did and I picked the thought out of the air.”

“Can you do that?”

“I never could before, but everything’s different, so who knows what I can do?”

“Isn’t that the truth? That bowling ball trick—”

“A guy did that to me once. Just one finger, plus the thumb. I thought two fingers would be better.”

“Definitely.”

“Did it hurt?”

“The two fingers? No, it felt nice.”

“The Brazilian, silly. What did they use, hot wax?

“Yeah, but it wasn’t so bad. And I thought it would be worth it. Do you like me without any pubic hair? It’s not unnatural, is it? Or just plain dopey?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Or all little-girly? All pedophilia-creepy?”

“Daddy’s little soldier.”

“I swear I never even thought of that. Is it like that?”

“Kimmie, I love it. There’s no hair, everything’s all sweet and smooth and silky, I can just kiss and lick everything. I’m a whole forest down there. You must have been disgusted.”

“Yeah, right. I had to force myself to get anywhere near you.”

“But wouldn’t you want me to get it done?”

“For your sake, Ree. Everything’s more intense.”

“Really? I don’t know if I can stand that. But I
have
to get it done. God, yours is so smooth, I can’t keep my hands off it. Give me a kiss. You know what’s remarkable? Your mouth tastes like a pussy.”

“Here’s a coincidence—so does yours.”

“Kimmie, this is all so
easy!
I had no idea.”

“Me neither.”

“I think there’s some more wine left. You want some?”

“Not particularly.”

“Some Poh-mahr. It was nice, but I had enough. The only thing I haven’t had enough of is you.”

“Ah, baby. Let’s see what we can do about that.”