Bliss (25 page)

"Trust me when I say that you do keep up." With her fork,
Hunter dug into the soft flour wrapping of her roti, exposing
the curried chicken, potatoes, and spices inside. Sinclair noticed that she used her left hand with no difficulty. Her right
hand was still in her lap. Ambidextrous?

"Do you have any after-dinner plans for us?" she asked.

"As of a few minutes ago, yes. But I'm not sure that you'd
agree to them."

"If those plans involve any sort of exchange in body fluids,
then you're right."

"Tease."

"You started it."

Hunter laughed softly. "I did, didn't l?"

Sinclair hummed her agreement around a bite of rice and
fish.

"Then give me a chance to finish it. I promise that I'll
make it worth every second."

I'm sure you would. Sinclair shook her head. "Perhaps
some other time."

Between the two of them they managed to finish off the bottle of wine and two very large plates of food, pushing
aside the sexual tension to satisfy their more immediate oral
craving. Still, when Sinclair fed bites of her fish to Hunter she
couldn't help but notice the other woman's moist pink
tongue as she parted her lips to accept each morsel of food.

"Thank you for dinner, it was wonderful," Sinclair said
after Hunter put down money for the bill. They stood and
walked out of the restaurant together.

Hyacinth spotted them as they were leaving. "Come back
to see us again soon, Hunter darling." She brushed Hunter's
shoulder with manicured fingers as she passed to tend to another table of customers. "And behave yourself now."

"She knows you well, huh?"

"Sadly, yes." Hunter laughed. "It makes it hard to keep a
secret in this town."

"I'm sure you have some that the fawning majority haven't
figured out yet."

"Maybe." Hunter took Sinclair's hand. "Walk down to
the water with me."

"A walk on the beach?" Sinclair looked at her. "Are you
kidding me?"

"Come on, don't be a spoilsport. It's corny but fun. And I
promise not to push you down in the sand and have my way
with you."

"Then what's the point of going then?"

"Ah, I'm rubbing off on you." Hunter pulled her away
from the parking lot and toward the water. "Come on."

They walked in silence toward the water, hand in hand.
Sinclair had tried to pull her hand from Hunter's before but
after several seconds of futile struggle she gave up. Besides,
the other woman's hand in hers felt good, solid and warm.

"Tell me," Sinclair said. "What's England like?"

Hunter looked at her as if surprised she would ask that
question. "It was a place to live. Nothing special. At least not
to me."

"Specifics, please. Pretend you liked it a little. Give me the
highlights."

"I take it you've always wanted to go but never did?"

"You take it correctly," Sinclair mocked her proper tone.
"You are such a stick up the ass sometimes."

"Me?" Even in the dark, she could tell that Hunter was
rolling her eyes. "You're the last person who needs to call
anybody uptight."

"Shut up and get on with the story."

"Well, let's see. It's rainy and wet. Where I lived it doesn't
really snow so much as ice over. And if you're unprepared
you can spend a horrendous hour or two slipping and sliding
home, holding on to iron fences or, failing that, crawling on
your hands and knees over the pavement." She laughed at
Sinclair's expression. "That was in south London. They often
didn't bother de-icing my street. In nineteen ninety six, I moved
to Manchester, just in time for the IRA bomb that blew away
most of Exchange Square. Though that wasn't necessarily a
bad thing since the place looks much better now that they've
rebuilt, refurbished, and invited the homos in to redecorate."

"Are you saying that you didn't have a single good experience in England?"

"I didn't say that. I definitely enjoyed my life there. Don't
get me wrong." Hunter's eyebrow rose. "There's just nothing
that I find aesthetically appealing about the country."

"Fine. You'll just have to take me there so I can see for myself."

"Will you, as the Americans say, put out?"

"Is that all you think about?" Sinclair asked.

"When I'm with you that's definitely in the top five."

"Pig." Sinclair laughed, not knowing whether to be flattered or insulted.

"I get called so many names, all for lust of a beautiful
woman."

Still laughing, Sinclair pulled away from her, the Gilbey's and wine beginning to truly sing in her veins. Foam tipped
waves splashed up her legs and knees, cleaving the dress to
her skin. "I get the feeling that lust is not an uncommon thing
for you to feel. The woman is irrelevant. Your pussy doesn't
care who it throbs for."

The moonlight floated silver on the water and over
Hunter's face. The scientist knelt to take off her loafers and
socks then rolled her pants up. She tossed her shoes and
socks a safe distance up on the dry sand.

"At this moment it throbs for thee." Hunter ran into the
waves, splashing Sinclair's thighs with the salty water. She
tugged on Sinclair's dress, using it to pull her close. "Isn't
that enough? Can't it be enough for now? Come home with
me." She bit Sinclair's bottom lip, then sucked it into her
mouth. "I'll be gentle if you want." Her voice was rough.

Sinclair melted against Hunter, slid her arms around her
neck, and returned the wine-flavored kiss. Sinclair stopped
thinking. Her body, however, chanted yes with its aroused
nipples and wet mouth, the hands grabbing Hunter's ass
through her slacks, and the soft panting noises it made. But
she wanted to be sure, not overwhelmed like she had been
with Regina. Sinclair didn't want to be a victim of her hormones again. She pulled away.

"I can't."

Reluctantly, Hunter let her go. Later, as they pulled up to
the gate of the Daniels' house, she touched Sinclair's thigh.
"I'm not going to give any false promises. I'm not going to lie
to you. My honesty is what I can offer that's better than what
you had before. Think about that."

Sinclair climbed out of the jeep, unlocked the front door
and walked inside, all without once looking back. It was
going to be a long night.

'unter didn't call. Sinclair prowled around the house
.with her camera, taking photo after photo of the backyard, of Nikki's garden, even of the unsympathetic telephone.
People called, but no one she wanted to talk to. Yesterday, she
thought that she had good reasons for not giving in to her
feelings for Hunter, but today she couldn't think of what
those reasons were. When Nikki and Xavier came home in
the late afternoon with both their faces smeared by chocolate
ice cream, Sinclair was still standing in the yard staring listlessly at the garden.

"What are you doing?"

Sinclair waved her camera at them. "Taking some pictures."

"Is the yard that depressing?"

"What? Oh, no." Sinclair shook her head. "I was just thinking." She dredged up a smile for Xavier. "I don't suppose you
brought me any ice cream, huh?"

"We didn't think you'd be home." Nikki's smile teased her.
"Leave the flowers alone and come in and help us make dinner. You're just making them sad by hovering over them like
that."

Sinclair wrinkled her nose at her stepmother but followed
her into the house anyway. "What are we cooking?"

"I don't know. Let's look in the cupboard and see what's
here. "

Xavier went off to wash his hands and face while the two
women headed into the kitchen. Nikki washed her face at the
kitchen sink and used a paper towel to pat it dry.

"How was dinner last night?" she asked.

"The food was very good."

Nikki peeked at Sinclair around the door of an open cupboard. "Was Hunter?"

Sinclair felt her face grow hot but didn't rise to the bait.
"Not especially, but she was pleasant company nevertheless."

"Should I make enough for her this evening?"

"I don't think so. She has a lot of work to do at home."

"Excuses, excuses." Nikki pouted. "I don't think she likes
us anymore."

"You know they say that too much thinking isn't good for
you." Sinclair grinned then picked up her camera from the
dining table. "Let me go put up my camera then you can just
order me around the kitchen. Tell me what you need me to
do and I'll do it."

"Is that what you told Hunter today?" Nikki called out
behind her as she walked down the hall to her room.

"Funny. Very funny."

By the time Victor came home two hours later dinner was
already done. His plate lay warming in the oven and his
daughter, wife, and son sat on the living room floor playing
checkers and eating their dessert. He eyed the gigantic slice of
rum cake sitting, half eaten, between Nikki and Sinclair.

"Did you leave any for me?" he asked and kissed his wife
on the forehead.

"Nope." She tilted her mouth up for a real kiss. "But
there's plenty of food for you in the kitchen."

When he left for the kitchen Nikki turned to Sinclair. "He
doesn't like rum cake. Says it's too fruity."

Sinclair laughed. "He probably doesn't want to contaminate his rum with the cake."

"That's very possible," Nikki agreed, wrinkling her nose
with amusement.

"King me, Clair! King me!" Xavier waved his triumphant
red checker in the air at Sinclair.

His sister stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine, but I don't
have to like it."

Sinclair went to bed early. At least early for her. After
Nikki and her father abandoned her for their own bed, she
left Xavier asleep on the pullout sofa and turned off the television.

In her room, she closed the door and undressed before slipping under the thin sheet. Hunter still hadn't called. Sinclair
sighed and stared out the window, preparing herself for a
restless night.

A noise at the window woke her up. Sinclair's eyes snapped
open in time to see a dark shape climb over the windowsill
and into the bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" She sat up, watching Hunter
slip into the bed next to her.

"I've been thinking about you." Hunter shrugged off her
shirt. "I can't get any work done. I needed to see you."

Her pants and underwear quickly followed, falling away
to the foot of the bed. Shadows of her nakedness appeared to
Sinclair, the smooth line of breast and rib, a bare throat, the
shape of lips settling close.

"I was going to wait until you made the first move, until
you knew that you were ready. But, you know what? You
leave in two weeks. And at the rate that you're going, neither
of us will get laid this year." She pressed Sinclair into the bed,
her body taut with the excitement of her words. Sinclair
gasped. "I know you worry that they'll hear you." Hunter
pulled something from one of her discarded pockets. A bit of silk. "So I brought something for you." Her breath fluttered
against Sinclair's mouth, warm and teasing. "If you don't
want it, if you say no, then I'll put it away." Her hips pressed
into Sinclair's. "I'll leave."

Over the throbbing of her pulse and the need singing
through her body, Sinclair heard the threat and panicked.
"No." She grabbed Hunter's arm. "Stay."

The first kiss was an explosion of want, of previously compressed desire expanded suddenly, catching Sinclair in a wave
so powerful that it stole her breath. She clawed the thin sheet
from between their bodies, anxious to feel all of Hunter, not
just her provocative heat through the cotton. Soft, mewling
noises left Sinclair's throat. It seemed like she'd waited so
long for this. She couldn't understand why she'd denied herself this satisfaction of desire, this vicious pain.

Her mouth opened to devour and to claim the dark
woman. Hunter's thigh fell between hers, pressing against the
dampness that had flooded her the instant she'd seen her face
at the window. The thigh flexed and she shuddered. Hunter's
mouth burned her body, her mouth, her throat, the tight
peaks of her breasts. She gasped and moved against the heaviness above her, sliding her palms down the sleek, muscular
back and restless hips. The silk brushed her mouth.

"Should I tie you up now?" There was raw laughter in the
other woman's voice, a promise that Sinclair wouldn't be
able to stay quiet tonight.

They whispered softly to each other, their words a mere
brush of breath against flesh, a movement of lips.

"Is that the only way you can think of to control me?"

"Control isn't the word tonight, sweetheart. I want to fuck
you. Believe it or not I was pretty content without sex until you
came along. But when I saw this ass-" she grabbed Sinclair's
behind and lifted it hard against her thigh. Through Sinclair's
breathless moan, she continued, "I knew I didn't want to be
celibate anymore."

Sinclair widened her legs against the thrust of Hunter's thigh, gasping her passion into her lover's sagescented hair.
Her body swam with sensation, a liquid rush that bathed her
in heat, tingled her clit, made her breasts ache. A fine mist of
sweat appeared on her skin.