Radclyffe - Love On Call

“I’m sorry,” Mari said. “I must sound like a whiner. At least my family was always there for me through everything, even when they couldn’t accept who I really was.” She shook her head. “Love the sinner and not the sin, and all that.”

“You’ll be in good company around here, with the sinners and all,” Glenn said with a grin. When Mari laughed, the sadness leaving her eyes, she was so beautiful, Glenn vowed to find a way to make her laugh again.

*

“Shh,” Abby said, half laughing, half groaning. “The windows are open.”

“I’m not the one calling on the deities,” Flann murmured, her mouth against the pounding pulse in Abby’s throat. A trickle of a breeze drifted through the open windows, stirring the sultry air that settled on her naked back like an unwanted quilt. Sweat pooled at the base of her spine, and Abby’s skin was an inferno against hers. Still, she wouldn’t move away, wouldn’t relinquish the heady feel of Abby’s body under hers.

Flann skimmed a hand down Abby’s flank, over her hip and around to the back of her thigh, hitching Abby’s leg a little higher.

Abby gasped when Flann’s taut thigh pressed harder between her legs. “I’d really, really like it if you put your hand where your leg is.”

“Is that right.” Flann nipped at the underside of Abby’s jaw, loving the way Abby tensed beneath her. Whenever they were in bed together, she had this all-consuming urge to make Abby come, to feel her body tighten, winding higher and higher, until she exploded. No matter how many times she vowed to draw things out, to keep Abby on the brink, she had to force herself to go slow, to tease and torture, especially when Abby demanded instant satisfaction. Flann groaned just thinking about how sexy Abby was when she wanted to come. “God, you make me crazy, you’re so hot.”

“Then go crazy,” Abby whispered in Flann’s ear, catching her earlobe between her teeth. “Get as crazy as you want, just make me come. Now, damn it.”

Laughing softly, Flann shifted her hips and slid her hand between them, cupping Abby in her palm. She slid one finger lower, drawing the tip along the petal-soft channel until she circled her clit.

“God, that’s exactly right. You have the best hands.” Abby dug her fingers into Flann’s shoulders.

“All yours, baby.” Flann stroked and circled and teased until Abby’s breath shuddered and broke on a cry, then slid inside her to ride the orgasm from the first crest to another, even deeper orgasm.

Finally Abby grasped Flann’s wrist, stilling her motion. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

“You sure you want me to stop?”

“Positive. Perfect.”

Flann relaxed, working to catch her breath. Somehow she never remembered to breathe when Abby was about to come. In another minute, Abby drew Flann’s hand away, nudged her over, and leaned up on her elbow.

“I’ll be happy when we have our own fifty acres and I don’t have to worry about who might be listening.” Abby kissed Flann and sighed.

“Who’s worrying?” Flann asked.

Abby laughed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not advertise our carnal ecstasies.”

“Ecstasies, huh?” Flann grinned. “We might need more than fifty acres, because I think there’s a lot of ecstasies, carnal and otherwise, in our future.”

“You’re right. Starting now.” Abby kissed her way down Flann’s throat, between her breasts, and lower. Flann’s hands came into her hair, playing ever so softly over her scalp. She loved the way Flann caressed her, as if she was everything precious in the world. When she reached the base of Flann’s belly, she stroked up the inside of Flann’s thigh with the tips of her fingers until Flann groaned. Flann liked to tease, but Abby liked to take.

She pressed Flann’s legs apart and made room for herself, slowly kissing her way from Flann’s belly downward. When she took her in, Flann arched, a strangled cry caught in her throat. Abby’s heart lifted and every single thought left her mind except one—pleasing the one woman in the world who held the key to everything in her life.

“Damn it, Abby,” Flann said through gritted teeth. “You’ll make me come right now doing that.”

Abby grasped Flann’s hand as she pushed her and pushed her, until Flann broke with a long, low groan, her body bowstring tight for an endless moment. Flann sagged back, and Abby pressed her cheek to Flann’s thigh, listening to the sound of Flann’s ragged breathing and her own runaway heart. She’d never been so content or so satisfied in her life.

“Have I mentioned I love your mouth?” Flann muttered, her words slurred.

“Now and then.”

“And your hands.”

Laughing, Abby kissed her thigh. “You might’ve a time or two.”

“And everything about you?”

Abby roused herself and curled into the curve of Flann’s body. Flann barely stirred. “I love reducing you to a quivering mass of jelly.”

Flann chuckled. “Consider me quivering.”

Abby tucked her cheek into Flann’s shoulder, drew her leg over the top of Flann’s thighs, and wrapped an arm around her middle. She couldn’t get any closer, and never wanted to be any farther away. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get married before we move into the new place.”

Abby stilled. “You still mean married as in church, minister, wedding ceremony?”

“Yeah, all of that.”

“When were you thinking of doing this?” Abby willed her sex-addled brain to catch up to the conversation. Her heart started pounding again.

“No reason to wait.”

“Flann, honey…Harper and Presley are getting married this summer.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’m Harper’s best man.”

“So don’t you think we should let the dust settle before we spring this on everyone?”

“Okay, so how about right after them?”

Abby laughed. “Do you know how long it takes to plan a wedding?”

“Are you kidding? With all the brainpower you and Presley and Carrie and my mother and sister have at your disposal?” Flann tugged Abby’s hair. “Come on, you adore me, don’t you?”

“Endlessly.”

“And I am yours forever.” Flann cupped Abby’s cheek, her expression suddenly deep and intoxicatingly intense. “At least say you’ll marry me now—soon—soonest. Please.”

“Of course I will. Yes, a thousand times yes.”

Chapter Eight

“I hate to say this, but if I’m going to get that talk ready for tomorrow, I have to head home.” Mari would have been happy to sit at the rickety table with the empty paper plates and the intriguing dinner companion for another hour if she weren’t so damned tired. She hadn’t had such a good time in forever. Their conversation had turned from the unexpectedly personal to easier topics—work, mostly, along with books they’d read or wanted to and how they’d each ended up running to relax. While they’d talked, the pizza place had cleared out and the night outside the big plate-glass windows had drifted to full dark. Someone had propped the front door open with a chair and the street was quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle and rare echo of conversation floating from open windows.

“Listen,” Glenn said. “Why don’t I take that talk tomorrow. It’s been a long first day, and it will be late by the time you get it together.”

“No,” Mari said, reflexively refusing help, although at this point if she had a million dollars she would happily give it up to not have to go home and spend time preparing a talk. But she needed to pull her weight, for her own self-esteem and especially for the respect of people who depended on her to do her part. More than anything, she needed to feel whole again. “I appreciate it, really, but it’s okay. I can handle it.”