Radclyffe - Honor Bound

Diane nodded, knowing there was more but willing to wait for the details. Eventually, she'd get the rest out of her. She rose to stand beside her, waving to a familiar figure drawing near. "Marcy's been asking about you."

Blair looked at her, an eyebrow raised in question. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Diane said, grabbing them each a water bottle from a nearby table. "She wants to know how available you might be."

"Then she should ask me herself," Blair said impatiently. "For God's sake, we're all adults."

"I think she wants to avoid being shot down. Your signals were a little mixed last weekend at my place," Diane pointed out dryly.

Seeing Marcy's friendly smile, Blair was a little embarrassed to realize she hadn't given the events at Diane's gathering any thought. She had been too rattled the last week by Cam's abrupt reappearance and the emotional chaos that followed to give anything, oranyone, else much thought. It hadn't occurred to her that Marcy Coleman might have other ideas, but, recalling what had happened, she supposed it should have.

It had all started after Cam left the party.

Blair watched Cam move through the crowd, murmur something briefly to Ellen Grant, and then walk out the door. She did not look back to where Blair still stood in the shadows on the balcony.

After a moment of foolishly hoping that her security chief might suddenly reappear, Blair rejoined the group in Diane's living room. Lights were turned down low, and couples were dancing. A daring few in secluded corners were carrying on more intimate exchanges.

Dr. Marcy Coleman, a willowy blond in her mid-thirties approached, a smile on her face and a question in her eyes. "I thought you might have left."

"No," Blair said, her mind still on the image of Cam standing outside, alone in the dark, the night wind ruffling her dark hair. Once she had been challenged by Cam's solitude; now she was wounded by it. The change was not a welcome one, and she brushed the reflection from her mind.

"Another dance?" Marcy's asked, lightly taking Blair's hand in hers.

Sure," Blair answered absently. At least it would distract her from the way her body still vibrated from the brief touch of Cam's fingers. So she thought.

She stepped into Marcy's arms, rested her cheek lightly against the other woman's shoulder, and closed her eyes. The music was something slow and sultry -- perfect music to get lost in. She wanted to be lost for a while. Not to think, not to struggle, not to mourn. To want nothing was to never be disappointed.

Marcy's body was sleek and sensuous, and she moved against Blair with practiced intimacy. It had been like this countless times before, with other bodies, other faces. Brief diversions, momentary escape. The act of pleasuring was satisfying in itself, but Blair was careful always to remain in control. Safe, simple, emotionally unencumbered. No promises - justpleasant, mutually satisfyingbiological proceedings.

Marcy pulled her a little closer, rotating her hips slowly, insistently, against her own - a subtle shift of pressure that she almost didn't notice at first. And then something unexpected happened. Without realizing it, without consciously willing it, she was becoming aroused. A year ago, even six months ago, she would never have noticed the fire starting. And even if she had, she would have been able to ignore it. The excitement would have settled in the back of her mind like a pleasant afterthought, untended and unanswered. Now her nerve endings were raw and acutely sensitive.

She was afraid she knew why. Since Cam, something had changed. Something that she had been able to contain for many years had been unleashed. The practiced disconnection she had so carefully constructed between her emotions and her physical self had begun to dissolve with the first touch of Cam's hands.

She knew her breathing had increased, and she felt Marcy's heart beating rapidly against her own. When Marcy cupped her breast as she had done briefly once before that evening, she felt her nipple stiffen against Marcy's hand. She bit her lip to keep back a moan and tried to concentrate on something other than the liquid heat surging between her legs.

Marcy lowered her head, her lips brushing the outer edge of Blair's ear. "You are a great dancer," she said, her voice throaty and slightly breathless. As she spoke, she rubbed her palm very lightly over Blair's nipple.

Blair gasped as a ripple of excitement flickered through her, running down her spine and coiling in her stomach. It was so unusual that it took her completely by surprise, and before she was aware of it, she had parted her legs and pressed harder against Marcy's thigh. The pressure against her swelling clitoris was exquisite and for a moment, she couldn't think of anything at all.

"I'd like very much to be alone with you right now," Marcy continued, deftly directing them closer to the hallway that led back to the guest room in Diane's apartment. "I want to touch you so much it's driving me crazy."

Blair flashed on the last time she had been in that room, and almost instantly, Cam's face, intense and consuming, filled her mind. For a moment, it was Cam's hand on her breast, and Cam's leg between her thighs, and a spasm shuddered through her as her arousal escalated. She stumbled slightly, trembling.

Marcy's arms closed around her. "I don't usually do this sort of thing in other people's houses," she said urgently, "but if I don't do something soon, I'm in danger of exploding."

By now they were in the hallway, alone, and Marcy had maneuvered her up against the wall. She had both hands under Blair's sweater, cupping her breasts, squeezing them as she worked Blair's nipples between her fingers.

Blair pressed her palms flat against the wall, her head tipped back, her eyes closed, struggling to stay upright, verging on orgasm. She wasn't thinking of the woman who touched her now, but of the woman who had done so much more than just touch her body.

"Blair," Marcy whispered.

Not Cam.

"Marcy," Blair groaned, forcing her eyes open, backing away from the edge through sheer willpower. "We -- should -- stop."

Marcy's lips were on Blair's neck, biting her lightly as she pressed harder against her, one hand pushing under the waistband of Blair's pants. "Oh god, I don't want to."

She moved her hand to the triangle between Blair's thighs and squeezed rhythmically. "God, I know how close you are. I can feel it."

Blair pulled away as much as she could, struggling to contain the surging pressure building between her legs, knowing that in a second, she would lose the fight. Dimly she wondered why it mattered, and she did not want to know the answer. "Stop now, please."

Marcy lifted her hands to Blair's waist, holding her but not pushing her any further. She shuddered against Blair, gasping. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."

Blair laughed shakily. "Neither do I, but you don't need to apologize."

Marcy leaned back, her eyes still molten with desire, and smiled a little tremulously. "I don't think anyone has ever done that to me before."

Blair laughed, a little stronger this time. "You mean teased you quite so unmercifully? Maybe I should apologize."

Marcy shook her head vehemently, running one finger along the edge of Blair's jaw. "Oh no, don't even think of it. What I meant was, no one has ever made me so hot so fast. No one ever made me lose my mind like that."

Blair stepped sideways enough to put space between them. "I didn't mean to do that. It took me a little by surprise too."

Marcy brushed her shoulder length blond hair back with a still trembling hand. "I think we should go back into the other room. I seem to be dangerous out here."

Blair took her hand in a friendly but not intimate gesture, and laughed. "A very good idea, Dr. Coleman."