Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

“I need…” Wes’s eyes opened, impossibly green, impossibly beautiful. “I need you to make me come.”

Evyn’s clit twitched hard. She dropped her forehead to Wes’s. “Hold me.”

Wes’s arms came around her waist, steadying her. Evyn pumped inside her, rolled her palm over Wes’s clit. With every thrust, Wes’s groans urged her on. Evyn rocked on Wes’s thigh, climbed closer to exploding.

“Yes, yes. You’re going to make me come.” Wes rode Evyn’s hand, short hard strokes. “Now, Evyn. You’re making me come.”

“Hold me. Wes. Please.” Evyn hovered so close—so close, drowning in the sound of Wes’s pleasure, on fire with the sensation of Wes pulsing around her, slick and hot. She needed to come. Needed it, needed it so bad. “Wes, please. Help me.”

Wes bit her neck and Evyn came, the orgasm thundering out of nowhere.

“Oh my God!” Stunned, Evyn collapsed into Wes, her hand crushed between them, buried between Wes’s legs.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” Wes groaned, flooding Evyn’s fingers, coming on them again.

Evyn’s breath shot out in sobs of wonder and relief. She never wanted to move. She never wanted to break the connection. She just wanted more. Her heart thundered in her chest. Her stomach rolled with need. She kissed Wes’s throat, the line of her jaw, her mouth. “You’re so beautiful. So amazing.”

Wes’s hands caressed her shoulders, her back, stroked her hair, clasped her neck. “That’s okay,” Wes murmured. “That’s okay.”

Evyn raised her head. Dazed, unfocused. “What?”

Wes brushed her thumbs over Evyn’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful…Thank you.”

“What?” Evyn felt the tears Wes wiped away. Her tears. What the fuck was wrong with her? She looked at Wes. Wes’s shirt was open, her pants around her hips. She was still mostly dressed. What was she doing? She’d just fucked Wes against a goddamned door. She didn’t remember how they’d gone from keeping their distance to this. She could only remember want and need, desperate need. And now she was crying? That just never fucking happened. Not to her. She never lost control. Confusion, uncertainty, sheer panic choked her.

“Are you all right?” Wes asked, her hand cradling Evyn’s chin.

What next—would Wes be asking her if she needed to process? “I’m fine. I’m not the one up against the door. You okay?”

The cloudy haze of pleasure cleared from Wes’s eyes in an instant. Her focus sharpened, narrowed. Evyn felt naked with all her clothes on. She couldn’t imagine being any more vulnerable.

“Evyn,” Wes said, steady and strong. “There were two of us here. I wanted what happened to happen. Do you hear me?”

Evyn licked her lips, a little disoriented. She’d made the first move, hadn’t she? She always did. What the hell happened? Where—when had she lost it? “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Wes said softly. “No. You were wonderful.” Her gaze dropped down Evyn’s body. “I don’t think I held up my end, though. I’ve still got some things to learn—”

“Believe me, you don’t need to learn anything.” Evyn shook her head. And she was no teacher, that was for sure. “I don’t usually lose it like that.”

“Are you all right?”

Evyn backed up a step, tucked her shirt back into her pants. “Sure. I’m great. The sex was great—I don’t guess I need to say that.”

Wes zipped up, not bothering to button her shirt. Evyn looked spooked. Uneasy. Almost battle shocked. “Why don’t you sit down? I really will make some coffee.”

“I need to go. It’s late.”

“Evyn, I’m not asking—”

“You don’t get it, Wes.” Evyn shook her head. “I don’t do serious.”

“Okay,” Wes said, the familiar ache settling behind her breastbone. “Is that what this was? Serious?”

“I don’t know what this was,” Evyn shouted. She pushed her hand through her hair, wanted to pull it out. Wanted some real pain to block the awful dread in the pit of her stomach. “No, that’s a fucking lie. This was amazing. You’re beautiful, sexy as fucking hell. And you make me crazy. I can’t afford to be crazy.”

“Tonight was my fault,” Wes said.

“The hell it was,” Evyn said sharply. “There’s no fault here, okay? It was just…I don’t know—hormones. Pheromones. Something. God, I can’t be anywhere around you without wanting you.”

“Which I take is a bad thing?”

“I’m sorry.” Evyn looked around the room as if she had never seen it before. Her gaze settled on Wes’s face. “You deserve a lot better than this—” She waved at the door. “More than a fast fuck.”

Wes swallowed the pain. She didn’t beg. Ever. Not for anyone or anything. “Look, let’s not make this an issue, okay? We’re adults, we acted on instinct, we both wanted a fast fuck, as you say. Now it’s done. We’re over it—we move on.”

Anger flared in Evyn’s eyes and Wes nearly buckled under a wave of need. She wanted Evyn naked. She wanted to be inside her. Evyn made her want things, things she’d never thought she needed, things Evyn didn’t want or need from her. “If you’re sure you don’t want coffee…”

“No, I’m good,” Evyn said.

“Okay then.” Wes turned away, busied herself getting Evyn’s coat, settled herself. “You’re okay to drive?”

Evyn took her jacket. “I’m fine.”

“Good night then.” Wes opened the door.

“’Night,” Evyn said softly and slipped by without touching her.

Wes turned out the light and walked to the window where her mother thought she should put a plant. Evyn was a dark shadow disappearing down the street. Now she knew. Being alone with Evyn Daniels was dangerous. She understood just how dangerous now and wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

*

Lucinda answered her phone on the first ring. “Washburn.”

“I thought you might still be in your office,” Cam said.

“We’re two days from Christmas Eve—busy time around here.”

“I know. You got a minute?”

“Where are you?”

“Outside the door.”

“Come in.” Lucinda replaced the phone and got up. A muscle in her back reminded her she’d been sitting too long. She rubbed it quickly. Cam walked in, closed the door. She wore jeans and a black crew neck sweater—unusually casual for her. Cam looked tired—her eyes were clear, but dark circles shadowed her cheeks. Her always carved features looked sharper, knife edged, and Lucinda realized she was seeing Cam on the hunt.

“Sorry to show up unannounced, but I didn’t think this could wait,” Cam said.

“You have something?” Lucinda asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Lucinda’s breath caught on a wave of excitement. They’d all been casting in the dark for weeks, too many bits and pieces, too many fragments of facts and non-facts to shape into a coherent pattern. Directionless in the face of unseen enemies, she was left impotent and, deep inside, afraid. She couldn’t afford to be afraid. Andrew refused to be intimidated, to be deterred, and she needed a clear head and clearer vision to see that he was safe. “Tell me.”

“I’ve requested field reports on anything that might remotely be connected to a potential attack and run probability algorithms on everything I can think of,” Cam said. “Another aerial assault, dirty bombs, a lone gunman, a group attack.”

The matter-of-fact tone in her voice chilled Lucinda to the core. “As has Averill, I’m sure.”

“Right. And neither of us hit on anything with greater than random probability.” Cam paced to the windows overlooking the gardens. Her face in the cast-off glow of the walkway lights was marble smooth and stone hard. “So I started looking at everyone who surfaced in connection to suspicious events. I’ve got a flimsy…” She laughed and shook her head. “Whatever is flimsier than flimsy, that’s the connection I’ve got.”