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wanted her here. I've been getting a little more fan mail than usual, and you know how seriously these
people take those things. It's nothing, really."
Diane nodded, knowing there was more but willing to wait for the details. Eventually, she'd get the rest
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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
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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." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]