Justice Served (11 page)

Mitchell snaked her arm further around Sandy’s waist and nuzzled her neck. “Give me five minutes. I promise to make you happy.”

“All I have to do is push,” Sandy murmured seductively, her mouth against Mitchell’s ear. “And you’ll fall on your ass.”

“I don’t mind if you’re on top. Makes me hot.” Mitchell chuckled when Sandy bit her earlobe. Hard. “Okay. Okay.”

“What’s happening later, anyways?”

“Jasmine is bringing the kings around. I want to gear up.”

Gently but firmly, Sandy pushed Mitchell away. “You’re not going out with them tonight.”

“No. Uh-uh. They just want to see how Mitch is doing.”

“Okay.” Sandy’s tone was doubtful.

“I’m going to see Dr. Rawlings tomorrow afternoon,” Mitchell informed her quietly. “I need to get cleared so I can go back to work, San.”

“You’re still on crutches.”

“I have that appointment with Dr. Torveau in the morning, too, remember? You’re coming, right?”

“I said I was.”

“So,” Mitchell said nonchalantly, “maybe I can get a cane.”

Sandy sat on the side of the bed, her arms braced on either side of her body as she leaned back and regarded Mitchell suspiciously. “Promise you don’t go back to work until you’re a hundred percent.”

Mitchell fidgeted.

“Dell.”

“I was sort of planning on going to the club this weekend. I should be okay by then.”

“Are you going to ride your bike?”

Mitchell raised a shoulder. “Probably.”

“Then Dr. Torveau has to say it’s okay.”

“Oh Christ, come on, Sandy—”

“Promise.”

Carefully, Mitchell shuffled to the bedside and eased down next to Sandy, keeping her left leg out straight. She put her arm around the smaller woman. “I promise.”

Sandy settled against Mitchell, both arms around her waist and her head on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Then I’ll help Mitch get ready tonight.”

“Thanks.”

“Under one condition.”

Mitchell sighed. “Okay.”

Sandy raised her head and peered at Mitchell curiously. “Okay? Just like that?”

“I’m going to say yes eventually.”

Laughing, Sandy nipped at Mitchell’s chin, then kissed the tiny red spot. “You’re pretty smart for a cop.”

“Yeah.” Mitchell kissed her. “So what did I just agree to?”

Sandy smoothed her hand down the front of Mitchell’s T-shirt, danced over her fly, and cupped her between the legs. “Mitch wears his working gear.”

Oh yeah.
Too busy kissing Sandy again, Mitchell didn’t answer.

*

“How’s it going?” Sloan brushed her hands over Michael’s shoulders as she leaned down to kiss her neck.

“Mmm.” Michael tilted her head back against Sloan’s chest and closed her eyes as strong fingers massaged the tight muscles along her spine. “A little better than yesterday. I can actually read for ten or fifteen minutes at a time without getting a headache.”

“That’s great, baby.” Carefully, Sloan swiveled the office chair around so that Michael faced her, then knelt before her. With a thumb, she traced the smudges beneath the sapphire eyes that were still dimmed with pain. “Tired?”

Michael covered Sloan’s hand with hers and rubbed her cheek against Sloan’s palm. “Yes. But that’s better too.”

“Good.”

“How was
your
day?” Michael combed her fingers through Sloan’s hair, then rested her hand against the side of Sloan’s neck. “You look a little…harried.”

Sloan gave a crooked grin. “I’d forgotten just exactly how much I hate working in a bureaucracy. It takes three times as long to do anything. And the equipment…I don’t know how they can keep track of parking tickets with the system they have, let alone collate data on criminals.” She laughed. “It’s a challenge.”

“Did they give you some help?”

“A couple of fairly decent guys.” Sloan thought of the two detective threes who’d been pulled from burglary to form the core of the ESU. Two guys who’d been selected because they’d once upon a time taken a computer course. But their inexperience bothered her less than her new official status as the civilian head of the unit. The ESU might be tucked away in the corner, but news would travel fast. She forced a smile, determined to concentrate on Michael and forget about what she couldn’t control for a few hours. “I’ve missed you.”

“I love you.” Michael caressed Sloan’s cheek. “You know, not talking about it won’t help.”

Sloan frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’re definitely getting better. You’re back to reading my mind.”

“I may have forgotten some things, darling, but I remember everything about you.” Michael leaned down and kissed Sloan lingeringly, a gentle but possessive kiss. “You don’t hide things from me. And even when you try to avoid telling me what you think I’m not ready to hear, it shows.”

“It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Is it something to do with you?” Michael asked mildly.

“Not exactly. Maybe.”

“Then it has to do with me.”

With a sigh, Sloan inched closer and pillowed her head against Michael’s breasts. Michael in turn stroked the back of her neck. Finally, Sloan mumbled, “It’s the visibility. If there’s anyone the least bit suspicious that we might be trying to track them down, my presence at Police Plaza is going to tip them off. They could start to cover their tracks. Computer tracks, that is. I’m working against the clock.”

“They know who you are, don’t they.”

“Probably.”

“They know that you can find them.”

Sloan nodded wordlessly.

“And you think,” Michael said haltingly, “you think my accident wasn’t an accident. That someone was trying to hurt
you
and I was just in the way.”

“We don’t know that,” Sloan said quickly.

“But that’s what you think.”

“Michael—”

“So it follows…
God,
I wish I could think clearly. It follows, doesn’t it…if they see you at police headquarters working on the computer system, they might feel even more threatened.” Michael’s fingers trembled against the back of Sloan’s neck. “And they might want to…be more…
thorough
than the first time.”

“It’s not going to happen.” Sloan leaned back and framed Michael’s face in her hands, her thumbs gently caressing the curve of her lover’s jaw. “Baby, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Always.”

“Can you stay here tonight instead of going back to work? Sandy picked up some videos, and I’m going to order pizza.”

Sloan thought about the work she had planned to do in the office downstairs, reviewing the data that Jason and Mitchell had collected in the last few days and running some traces herself. She thought about the long hours she had been away from home since the case had started to break the weekend before, and how often Michael had been alone. By the time she came to bed it was often almost morning, and she frequently rose after only an hour or two of sleep and went back to work. With guilty eyes, she noted the circles under her lover’s eyes, the pale cast of her skin, and the whisper of hollows beneath her cheekbones. Michael might be out of danger, but she was far from well.

“Comedy or drama?”

“Actually, I think she got
Night of the Living Dead
and every one of the sequels.”

“I’m in.” Sloan rose and guided Michael to her feet, pulling her into a loose embrace. She buried her face in Michael’s fragrant hair, relaxing into the welcoming curves of her lover’s body. For the first time all day, she felt calm. “Pizza?”

“Extra cheese.”

“Maybe I’ll just forget about working tonight. After the movies, we can escape and go to bed early.”

Michael guided Sloan’s mouth to hers, whispering against her lips, “I’d like that.”

“It won’t work, Mitch.” Sandy stood with a hand on her cocked hip, studying Mitch through narrowed eyes as he finished buttoning his fly. His dark hair was slicked back, with just a single thick wave slashing across his broad forehead, his chest and stomach were flat beneath the tight stretch of his black T-shirt, and his narrow hips seemed tight and powerful beneath the faded black jeans.

He looked up, surprised and worried. “What’s wrong?” He ran a hand over his chest. “Is the Ace too bulky? Does it show through my shirt?”

Sandy shook her head. “No, it looks good.”

“Not enough shading?” He traced along his jaw where Sandy had expertly accentuated the already strong lines with the subtle application of makeup.

Another negative head shake.

“So what—?”

“It’s not your
face.
” Sandy smiled faintly at Mitch’s obvious expression of distress and twined her arms around his neck. With her body tight to his and her mouth against his ear, she whispered, “I can tell you have a hard-on.”

Mitch laughed, a combination of embarrassment and pride. He pulled her closer to his groin, his hands spread across her lower back. The pressure of her body against the fullness in his jeans sent the blood thundering to his belly. “You told me that’s what you wanted, right? The working gear?”

“Yes,” Sandy admitted, rolling her hips over him lazily. “But Michael might get up. And I don’t want her to see you like this.”

“Why?” Mitch searched her face, frowning. “Are you embarrassed?”

Sandy bumped him sharply, groin to groin, making him gasp in surprise. “No,” she said, as if speaking to a five-year-old. “I just don’t want any other woman but me checking out your equipment.”

“Sandy,” Mitch complained, distracted by the subtle insistence of her hips moving against him. “It’s always gonna show some. And even if Michael sees, she isn’t going to be interest—”

“You don’t
know
that,” Sandy whispered as she slid a hand between their bellies and cupped the rigid length of him. “You look so hot.” She squeezed, massaging him rhythmically. “And this is mine, baby.”

Mitch was losing focus, every sense concentrated on the exquisite pressure against the turgid tissue beneath the cock in Sandy’s hand. His stomach spasmed, and his legs shook. “Sandy.
Honey.
You gotta cut that out.”

With a hand between his legs and one around his shoulders, Sandy walked him back against the dresser, until she had him pinned with the weight of her body fused to his. She pumped him faster and watched his eyes glaze. “You like it, baby?”

“Oh…jeez…honey…” Mitch trembled and groaned. “You’re gonna get me off like that.”

“I could,” Sandy said sweetly, stilling her hand as she kissed his mouth. Still leaning into him, she stroked her tongue inside his mouth until he quivered the way he did when he was getting ready to come. Then she eased away. “But I’m not going to, not right now.”

Mitch braced an arm along the edge of the dresser for support, his chest heaving. “What are you doing to me? Honey, what are you doing?”

She stroked his cheek. Kissed him again. Pumped his cock one more time with her hand. Eased farther away. “I want you to remember where this belongs. Now go change into something that’s not gonna make every girl within a mile want to fuck you.”

“If I move right now, I might come.”

“Are you hard, baby?”

“Oh yeah.”

She nipped his chin gently. “Good. Save it.” Forcing herself to back completely away, when what she wanted to do was unbutton his jeans and pull him down on top of her and
into
her, she said, “I’m going to get dressed.”

Smiling a satisfied smile, Sandy pretended she didn’t hear him whimper as she turned her back and stripped off her top.

*

“Darling?” Michael massaged Sloan’s back as she lay with her head pillowed against Michael’s breast.

“Mmm?”

“I think there’s a party going on in the other room.”

“Mmm.”

“Are you awake, or are you just humoring me by pretending to be listening?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Michael gently extricated herself from her lover’s grasp and sat up in bed. “I think I hear Sarah’s voice.”

Sloan rolled onto her back and lazily opened her eyes. “How come I’m wasted and you’re wide awake?”

“Because you did all the work,” Michael murmured, stroking Sloan’s cheek. “In fact, as I recall, you were having one of those butch attacks and wouldn’t let me do anything.” Her fingers hesitated, then began their slow caress again. “Are you afraid to let me get too excited?”

Sloan stiffened. “No. You had an orgasm, right?”

“Yes,” Michael agreed gently. “A very sweet, very tender, very
quiet
orgasm. And when I wanted to touch you, you—”

“Baby,” Sloan interrupted, “I just couldn’t wait. I just…lost it there.”

“I know, and I love it when you’re like that. When all you have to do is lie on top of me and come in my arms.” Michael leaned over to look directly into her lover’s eyes. “But tell me that you weren’t trying to keep me from exerting myself.”