Неизвестный - 2. Beyond The Breakwater

Bri followed, because it seemed the thing to do. She let Allie draw her down onto the bed, saying nothing as Allie lay beside her, facing her in the dark. A hand came to her cheek and stroked her tenderly, then moved around to the back of her neck and pulled her head close for a kiss.

She wasn’t thinking of anything. The tongue running lightly over her lips was supple and warm. When it moved inside her mouth, it was the only thing she could feel. There were no thoughts of the past or the future, only that moment and the firm anchor of hot flesh filling her mouth. She sucked it, breathed in the heat, clung to the taste of passion.

Dimly, she was aware of Allie’s rapid breathing and soft moans. When fingers tugged at the bottom of her T-shirt, Bri shifted and, in the next minute, another barrier was gone. A hand drew her fingers to a full breast and again she heard a small cry in the darkness. Her fingers were closed around a tight nipple, and when she squeezed, Allie whimpered. Bri was sure her heart was beating quickly, but she still couldn’t feel it.

Fingernails rasped down the center of her belly. Her thighs tightened and didn’t relax. She was panting. They both were. She jerked, then lifted her hips when fingers worked loose the snap on her jeans. The sound of her zipper sliding open was so loud in the still room. Soft breasts pressed against her chest, a slender leg slid over her thigh. Fingers pressed inside her jeans. The intoxicating aroma of desire was everywhere.

“Touch me, Bri,” the honey-smooth voice pleaded. Nearly breathless now. “Please. Oh, make me come.”

She knew the words, but the voice was wrong. Make me come, baby. Carre’s voice. But not.

A hand cupped her inside her jeans, fingers closed around her clitoris. The first gripping spasm shot a warning down her legs.

“Oh fuck,” Bri gasped, rolling away. “Jesus. Jesus.”

“What?” Allie’s voice was a choked cry, thin and desperate. “Oh, don’t stop now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Carre, god, I am so sorry.

Fists clenched to her center, Bri turned onto her side. She kept her back to the woman beside her and curled in on herself, closing her eyes tightly. Maybe she slept. Maybe she just disappeared for a while.

“I can’t decide whether I’m mad at you or not,” Allie said quietly.

“You should be.” Bri turned her head on the pillow and opened her eyes. Allie was sitting up against the headboard, inches away, nude. Her breasts, full and firm and rosy-tipped, were beautiful. Bri lifted her gaze to Allie’s eyes. “I never should have come here with you last night. I sure shouldn’t have gotten into bed with you.”

“You were turned on at the bar. Here, too.” Allie smiled softly, her expression dreamlike. “You were so wet when I touched you. You got hard between my fingers. You would have come in another second.”

“Yeah.” Bri’s voice was a whisper. She was wet now. But that wasn’t the point. She couldn’t help what her body did. Only what she did about it.

Allie brushed Bri’s arm with her fingertips. “You make me crazy hot, you know.”

Bri said nothing.

“When you wouldn’t touch me last night, I thought I was going to die.” Her voice was husky, her eyes slightly glazed. “I had to make myself come. I couldn’t help it.”

Bri looked away. Her heart hammered wildly.

“Did you hear me?”

“No,” Bri rasped, her stomach clenched so tight it hurt.

“It only took one touch. I imagined it was your mouth.” Allie drew a trembling breath. “I came so hard…”

Bri sat up suddenly and swung her legs outside the bed. She was shaking. Hoarsely, she said, “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Next time, though,” Allie rested a palm on the center of Bri’s bare back, “I want it to be you for real when I come.”

Reese came quietly down the stairs, mindful of the blanket-wrapped figure on the sofa. Moving carefully, she crossed to the kitchen and slowly began to assemble the coffeemaker.

“Can I help?” a soft voice asked from behind her.

Turning with a smile, Reese shook her head. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No.” Caroline’s eyes were puffy from lack of sleep and too-recent tears. “Is Tory up?”

“Not yet. She’s sleeping in.” Reese pulled coffee from the refrigerator and unwrapped the bag. “I finally talked her into working only a half-day on Saturday. She’s going in this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry that I showed up unannounced last night,” Caroline said in a small voice. She slid onto the stool and propped her elbows on the counter, resting her chin in both hands. “I didn’t think I could make it all the way back to Manhattan, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Reese stopped what she was doing and came around to take a seat next to the young blond. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad that you came. You can always come here.”

“Bri’s staying here, too, isn’t she?”

Surprised, Reese nodded. “How did you know?”

“Her motorcycle jacket is on the coat tree.” Caroline’s voice caught on the next words. “She never gets very far away from that. I…” Quickly, she turned away as the tears she thought she had finally exhausted began again. In a whisper, she murmured, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Reese waited, wanting to touch her but uncertain if she should, desperately trying to fathom what had happened. Bri had cut out right after their shift ended the night before—said she was headed to Barnstable for a class get-together. She’d never mentioned Caroline was coming in for it. And then Caroline showed up in the middle of the night here, clearly shaken and having been crying. When she’d said she didn’t want to talk, they’d put her on the couch and gone back to bed. What the hell is going on?

Softly Reese asked, “Where’s Bri?”

Caroline shook her head, keeping her face turned away. “I don’t know.”

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Everything has turned upside down in the last four months. I didn’t even realize Bri was unhappy. Maybe I should have,” Caroline said shakily.

“She didn’t say anything?”

“She hardly ever does. She’s always been…she keeps things inside.”

“You knew she wanted to be a police officer, though, right?”

“Yes,” Caroline replied. “I just thought it would be later. We both thought school in New York would be so great.”

“Maybe she did, too, at first. Maybe it took leaving here to realize that this is where she belonged.”

“I thought we belonged together,” Caroline said sadly. Her eyes were liquid with more tears, but she stubbornly held them back.

Reese blew out a breath and wished desperately that Tory were there instead of her. She was certain there were things she should be saying, or something that she should be doing. “She must have thought that leaving New York when she did was the right thing to do.”

“How could that be? How could it be better for us not to be together?”

Caroline’s voice was agonized, her confusion so clear that Reese’s insides twisted. She sighed and rubbed her face with both hands, searching for a way to explain something she didn’t fully understand herself. “If I were Bri,” Reese began as she struggled to put words to the emotions, “I would want to feel like I deserved you. I would want to feel like…you could be proud of me.”

“I’ve always been proud of her,” Caroline said, startled. “She’s strong and brave and…” the image of Bri with the strange woman the night before flickered into her mind. It was so painful that she lost her voice.

“Maybe,” Reese added quietly, “she can’t believe that you could be proud unless she’s proud of herself.”