Embrace in Motion Read online

  After years of flitting from city to city, she had longed for roots, to sink deep into one woman and one place. She gave up the glitter life without a backward glance, informed the USOC she was leaving competitive archery and buried herself in the loamy earth of Grannie MacNeil's farm in the Cascades. She had spent an entire summer and fall picking tomatoes and zucchini, canning apples, checking the hen roost for eggs and practicing with her grandmother's longbow. Her mother said she was wasting her time, but it turned out to be the last summer she and Grannie would have together, and she never regretted starting her law program at mid-year instead of the fall like her other classmates. She had long talks with Grannie about Fate and Romance and Happiness and about what Sarah should expect from life now that youth really was behind her. She had to Get Serious about Life, Grannie said. After all, she was twenty-eight and the pressures and rewards of competition were behind her.

  Grannie didn't even blink when Sarah confessed her lesbianism; in fact, she told Sarah a lovely story of a lady knight who had won a widow's love and how they retired to the granite hills of Snowdon. Grannie had a real gift for story-telling and ever since Sarah could remember, she'd told romantic Welsh stories in the television-free evenings with sometimes only a crackling fire to light the room.

  That last summer together Sarah had felt too jaded to say she believed in Romance anymore, but she'd eaten the stories up like a starving teenager. But since Grannie died it had been harder and harder to keep hoping she'd fall in love the way Welsh Grannie had loved her American husband, the way the knight had loved her widow, the way Lady Joanna had loved Llewellyn Fawr.

  When the spring semester started, she applied herself to her J.D. at the University of Washington. Grannie MacNeil died suddenly a few months later and Sarah found herself the owner of the farm and, even more precious, Grannie MacNeil's longbow. She had spent some time at the farm every year since, except for this last year, when a job promotion and a broken romance had made life too stressful for a vacation.

  If she wanted to, she could blame all of the unhappiness of the past year on the promotion. She'd worked more hours, hours Ellen had come to resent, and then Sarah resented Ellen's resentment. And she resented Ellen's ex's dependence on Ellen for everything from balancing her checkbook to hurrying over in the middle of the night because Judy had heard something go bump. Ellen resented Sarah's "possessiveness" and they'd both started too many sentences with "If you really loved me, you'd..."

  In the five years since finishing her degree and passing the bar exam, she had only been strongly attracted to Ellen, with her easy laugh and love of nature. Most of the year leading up to their break-up, Sarah worked as the lead on the patent application of a software product that was abruptly scrapped. A few weeks later, her relationship with Ellen was on the scrapheap, too. Well, the love they had both felt was long gone, if in fact it had ever existed to begin with.

  Instead of Ellen, her days and weekends were filled to bursting with computer programming specifications, legal briefs and 2,500-page patent applications. It was hard for anything to survive under the weight.

  Sarah realized she was standing in a daze in the middle of the hotel lobby and she shook herself mentally. A night with Jane Austen would be very refreshing and Lord knows she could use a good night's sleep. She turned resolutely to the elevators.

  "Sarah, wait up."

  Sarah turned and then smiled a greeting at Anna Ramos.

  "I just wanted to thank you for being brave this morning," Anna said. "You have no idea how I argued —"

  "I had a feeling," Sarah said. "I was happy to do it."

  "Well, I know it wasn't easy, so thank you again. Are you going on the excursion?"

  Sarah shook her head. "I've been to the Downs before. I thought I'd curl up with a book since I never get to do that at home."

  "That sounds so tempting," Anna said. "Between the boys and that great big boy I married, not to mention the job and Association volunteer work, I haven't read a novel in years."

  "With me, it's just the work in the way," Sarah said.

  "To be honest, if the boys didn't clamor, I'd be a workaholic, too."

  I guess I am a workaholic, Sarah told herself after she took leave of Anna. Well, she hadn't started out that way, but somewhere along the way she had turned from Sarah the Archer or Sarah the Gardener into Sarah the Patent Attorney. Grannie MacNeil would not have approved.

  How long had it been since she'd indulged in a hot bath, a good book and a hot fudge sundae? Work projects flowed into the bitter emptiness left by Ellen's departure and she'd pounded out a lot of her anger on her computer keyboard. Until Ellen, none of her relationships had ended in acrimony. Jane had accepted Sarah's decision to leave with a resigned smile. Jenny, the ballroom dancer, had been the one to say she thought their time was up. And before Jenny there had been lovers in college and fellow athletes — relationships that had never had any expectation of permanence. Not precisely casual, but not serious.

  So why such a bitter ending with Ellen? Was it because they had both thought, for two comfortable and pleasing years and one bitter, that they were on their way to happily-ever-after?

  It was a prickling along her neck that made Sarah look up from her study of the elevator floor. Someone was staring at her. It only took a moment to see who — the blond from the bar last night. She blushed as she remembered the lascivious suggestion she'd mimed and saw the blond had a slowly warming smile that became more sultry as the moments passed.

  They stared at each other across the crowded elevator, remaining at opposite ends as the other passengers gradually exited. Only when they were alone did Sarah realize she'd missed her floor.

  "Ohmigosh," she gasped, pressing her floor button as the elevator descended. Just in time. The doors opened and she got off, then looked over her shoulder. The blond raised her eyebrows and Sarah felt another blush surge over her cheeks and she found herself smiling stupidly and feeling utterly gauche.

  The blond slipped out of the elevator just as the doors closed and stood staring again, obviously enjoying Sarah's discomfiture. Sarah finally turned and began the long walk to her door. The blond fell into step behind her.

  My God, Sarah thought. I'm being stalked. Her head swam a little and she realized that it had been a long time since she had felt this way in the presence of another woman. She wouldn't let herself think that this was the beginning of something meaningful, that this was the moment, the first glance that meant romance and a life of forever afters. This was not anything like that. It was lust, pure and simple, and well, why not enjoy it?

  She stopped at her door and looked over her shoulder. The blond slowed her pace, but the bright gray eyes didn't falter in their persistent, increasingly intimate stare. Sarah opened the door and stepped back with an "after you" gesture. The blond passed Sarah on a waft of Pierre Cardin.

  Sarah set her notebook and jacket on the chair next to the bed while the blond walked to the window and looked out at the twinkling lights of Louisville. "I think I should—"

  "Don't talk if you don't want to," the blond said. "Your nonverbal communication is excellent." She turned from the window with a knowing quirk to her lips.

  Beautiful lips. They made Sarah think of sunset over Puget Sound, crimson and orange and hot and cool. She shook away the fanciful image. A flesh-and-bones woman was slowly crossing the room toward her.

  "Was it just bravado," the blond was murmuring. "Were you just acting curious? Or are you really wondering..." Warm breath tickled Sarah's ear and she caught her breath. "... what it would be like to be with a woman?"

  Sarah opened her mouth to say she knew full well what it was like, but she said instead, "I can't go on thinking of you as 'the blond.'"

  "Melissa. And you're Sarah."

  "How did you — oh, the name tag."

  Melissa slowly unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a close-fitting white muscle shirt that unaccountably made Sarah's mouth water. It had been too long si
nce she'd felt the tickling fear of anticipation and the cacophony of her body waking up in all different places — tongue, ears, nipples, toes. The insides of her thighs wanted to rub together and she couldn't help but put a hand to her pitching stomach.

  "I won't bite." Melissa slowly brought Sarah's hands her breasts and then sighed when Sarah cupped them. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

  "No."

  "I don't usually do this, but there was something about the way you danced with him and flirted with me that made me want you. And to want you to forget him."

  "He's just a friend," Sarah said. Her fingertips closed on Melissa's taut nipples.

  "I don't care what he is to you," Melissa said. The bright gray of her eyes had gone smoky. "I just care about right now. Oh—" Sarah's teeth found one nipple through the shirt and Melissa arched to her mouth. "You're a quick learner," she gasped.

  "I've had years of planning this moment." Sarah straightened up with a private smile. It was a true statement. She only omitted that her planning had been followed by lots of practice.

  "If you've been waiting for years, then I'd better make this memorable, hadn't I?" Melissa twined her hands with Sarah's, then jerked Sarah forward into her arms, her kiss hungry and demanding.

  It caught Sarah off guard and she found herself arching her back so Melissa could pull her skirt up and push her pantyhose down.

  Melissa groaned and broke the kiss. "This is how a man would do it, right? Take you right now. The first time would be hard and fast and then you'd do it again, slower."

  "I don't know," Sarah said shakily. It didn't sound all that bad a plan, if that's what Melissa had in mind. She was shivering with desire and Melissa's hands caressing her hips and the small of her back were making her knees buckle.

  "That's not how it's going to be," Melissa said. "You tell me what you want."

  "I —I want you to seduce me," Sarah said, in a low voice. "I don't usually — I mean, I'm usually in charge—" She faltered, not because she was afraid Melissa would figure out she'd been with women before, but because she didn't talk about sex easily. Most of her previous lovers had expected Sarah the athlete to be the aggressor and she was used to the role. But now she wanted to be pursued, seduced, made love to.

  "We're most of the way there, don't you think?" Melissa let go of Sarah and stepped back. Her hands went to her fly and she eased the buttons open and shrugged out of her jacket.

  Sarah nodded mutely and bit her lower lip as Melissa stepped out of the jeans. She was long-limbed and lightly tanned. She had the firm body of someone who exercised regularly, the kind of body Sarah used to have before five years of patents had added some round curves, especially on her hips.

  "Come here," Melissa said from next to the bed.

  Sarah went, stepping out of her pumps and pantyhose as she took the few steps to the bed. She abandoned herself to the unreality of the moment, wondering only briefly if this was what being swept off her feet meant. She couldn't recall ever feeling this way, so eager to surrender, not even the very first time.

  It seemed like hours between each button of her blouse coming undone under Melissa's fingers. In between buttons Melissa's mouth brushed over her straining breasts, her tongue flicked over the newly exposed skin, and her fingers dipped under the edge of Sarah's bra. Sarah knew she was swaying on her feet, but she could only watch each button come undone and wait, breathless, longing for the next.

  Time stretched and finally Melissa pushed Sarah's blouse off her shoulders. Sarah's mouth was dry and she was lightheaded. Melissa slipped Sarah's bra straps off her shoulders and with her hands sliding under the fabric, she moved Sarah's bra down, little by little.

  "Please." Sarah moaned. Her breasts were uncovered and still Melissa teased her. "I can't stand up anymore —"

  Melissa's answer was to drop to her knees, her mouth so close to the place where Sarah ached that Sarah felt the gray edges of faintness. Then Melissa pulled Sarah down, sitting her on the edge of the bed. Kneeling between Sarah's legs, Melissa brought her mouth to Sarah's breasts.

  "I could spend all night like this," Melissa whispered.

  Sarah barely heard her. Her brain was only processing the way Melissa's tongue caressed the soft underside of her breasts, then the sharp pleasure of Melissa's teeth on her already aching nipples. A marching band could have wandered by and Sarah wouldn't have heard them. She felt as if her skin was peeling off, her nerves like wires laid bare, sparking with heat.

  She didn't feel Melissa's fingers between her legs until they were already inside her. The realization made her breath catch and she felt the first tightenings of orgasm. Melissa moaned against Sarah's breasts and tightened her grip as Sarah stretched upwards, then wrapped her legs around Melissa and ground herself toward the knowing pressure of Melissa's fingers. A moment more of stillness, only her heart hammering, and she hurtled backward onto the bed, gasping for air.

  After a few minutes she was able to raise her head. Melissa hadn't moved and Sarah half-expected to see a triumphant smile. But it wasn't triumph; the naked hunger on Melissa's face made Sarah feel faint again. Then she realized Melissa's fingers were still in her... one finger moved slightly and Melissa's gaze shot upwards to Sarah's, watching the effect of that tiny movement on Sarah's face.

  Sarah's lips trembled and she fell back on the bed, sinking into the delirium of Melissa's mouth on her... at last. One finger still pressed inside her. Sarah felt like water sinking into sand and she fell deep into Melissa's hungry mouth.

  Indigo became purple became crimson, then the soft light of night. Melissa had joined her on the bed, breathing softly into Sarah's ear.

  Sarah got unsteadily to her feet and pulled off what remained of her clothes. She lowered herself to Melissa's waiting body.

  "You haven't left me much energy," she said softly, "Taut I'll do—" She nipped Melissa's thigh, then trailed her tongue over the point of Melissa's hip bone. "I'll do the best I can."

  Focus — it had been a long time since she had focused so completely on a single objective. Melissa's hands were in her hair, pressing Sarah down eagerly. Sarah inhaled Melissa's scent and savored the intoxication that welled through her. She closed her eyes and let her senses guide her unerringly to the spot that made Melissa groan.

  They took the bath Sarah had planned for herself, feeding each other strawberries dipped in hot fudge from the room service tray on the floor. Long, languorous kisses left no time for talking. The bath led to bed again and bed, finally, much later, to sleep.

  2

  Life itself is but motion, and can never be without desire... (Thomas Hobbes)

  Concentration for Sarah was hard in coming during the next morning's session. She would just get into the topic, Blueprint for Patenting Ideas, and she'd remember Melissa. She'd woken up by herself but a note on the pillow had taken away the sting. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket. She didn't need to take it out to know the note still said, See you in the elevator at lunch?

  Focus, Sarah, really. She started taking notes again and flipped to the next page in her notebook. She gasped just loud enough to attract the attention of her neighbor and hurriedly flipped the notebook closed. She knew she was blushing, but thankfully the man turned away. Branded on her mind's eye was the pencil sketch of herself, naked and asleep, with the block letters below: QUICK LEARNER.

  The moment the session was out she made her way hurriedly to the elevators, glancing around for Melissa. Anna Ramos stopped her briefly to introduce her to a board member. Sarah recognized the recruiting gleam in Anna's eye, but she had no intention of joining an AAPA committee. Some people loved to do it — company travel budget and time away from the rest of the work — but Sarah really didn't much care for hotels and airplanes. Even after a few days she was hankering for the green hills of Seattle.

  She had almost made it to the elevators when Geoff hallooed from across the hallway.

  "Hey, good looking, have lunch with me."
<
br />   "Sorry, Geoff," Sarah said, and then — dammit — she blushed. Why didn't she just take out a marker and write I GOT LUCKY LAST NIGHT on her forehead? "I have plans."

  Geoff s eyebrows arched in surprise. "Do tell. You look positively guilty."

  "Are you going to the procedural session this afternoon?" When Geoff nodded, she said, "I'll tell you all about it then. We can pass notes."

  "Tell me more now." He began glancing around as if looking for Sarah's paramour.

  "I'll be late for my appointment," Sarah said primly.

  "Appointment? It's called an assignation in genteel society. Nooners in not-so-genteel circumstances. You go, girl."

  Sarah gave him her very best narrow-eyed glare. I have you in my sight, she thought. Ten seconds with a longbow — hell, any kind of bow — and you'd be singing soprano, buddy.

  "Don't give me that haughty look, I'm green with envy — ooooooh..." His voice trailed away as his eyes widened at the sight of something or someone behind her. "I'll let you go now. You'll just make the elevator."

  "Peasant." Sarah tried and failed to hide a grin. She sprinted for the elevator and thrust her notebook between the closing doors to the annoyance of all the passengers except the grinning Melissa.

  "Sorry," Sarah mumbled, and found a place on the opposite wall from Melissa.

  Melissa was staring at her again, but this time Sarah returned the stare with one of her own. I have you in my sight, she thought, just as she had with Geoff. You're not going to dissolve me into a silly schoolgirl again. And you're about to find out that "quick learner" doesn't even begin to tell the story.

  They were alone in the hallway as they approached Sarah's door. "Hold this for me," Sarah said, handing Melissa her notebook. It slipped through her fingers and when Melissa bent over to pick it up Sarah shamelessly ran her hands over Melissa's hips and firmly pressed her fingers into the crotch of her jeans.

  Melissa gave a shocked gasp, shot to her feet and turned, completely flustered. "Rotten trick—" she began, but Sarah silenced her with a hard kiss.