DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Five Times Jill Barnhart Had Sex With Lindsay Boxer, And One Time She Didn’t
By trancer
"We should stop this," Jill exhaled in a sort of frustrated grunt/groan. Lindsay had ruined another pair of her pantyhose, to the point where Jill wondered why she bought the damn things, at least the more expensive ones. She could only think of one reason to continue buying the damn things. And it was a really good one all things considered.
Lindsay liked ripping them off with her teeth.
One minute, Jill was standing in the middle of the hallway. She didn't see Lindsay so much as she felt her, felt Lindsay's hand sliding into the crook of Jill's elbow and pulling her down some corridor.
"Lindsay," Jill kept her voice flat as she possibly could. Lindsay had that look in her eye. And already Jill could feel her pulse beginning to rise, mouth beginning to water and an uncomfortable heat flaring between her legs.
"Jill," Lindsay answered before pushing her into some closet deep within the bowels of the building and pressing her against a wall.
The room was dark, the only illumination, a sliver of light leaking in from underneath the door.
"Linds," she repeated, softer this time. But Lindsay was already gone from her eyesight. She was on her knees, hands bunching Jill's skirt up above her hips, her face buried between Jill's thighs. She felt the sensation of teeth scraping gently across her skin as it gathered the material of her pantyhose between them. Then tension as Lindsay pulled her head back, gently at first then more forcefully as the material refused to give. But it did. Everyone and everything eventually and always gave in to Lindsay.
The thin strands of nylon crackled and ripped like Fourth of July fireworks. She could feel the cool air on her skin mixed with the wet warmth of Lindsay's breath.
She didn't wear panties. She never wore panties with her hose. That and she figured why bother? She cared more about her panties than her hose. And with Lindsay's teeth constantly tearing them apart she learned to live without them.
It left her feeling open and exposed. Just not for long. Lindsay plowed into her, fat-kid-in-a-pie-eating-contest hungry, and twice as sloppy. All tongue, lips and slurping suction, until all Jill could do was claw at the wall, back bowing from the jagged undulation of her hips.
There was a tiny thought in the back of her head. The one that meant what she'd said when she said this had to end. The clandestine meetings in shadows, or closets. The sneaking around and feeling guilty afterwards, just not guilty enough to stop. Lindsay was the one constant in her life, even if it felt they were spinning their wheels. Too afraid to make that one final move, too afraid to make it stop.
Then, Lindsay slid two fingers inside her, long and deep and curled in just that way that made Jill suck in one final gasping breath before her orgasm overtook her.
Jill jolted and shuddered. Holding her breath to stop the scream erupting from the back of her throat and adding another indiscretion to be discussed in the office gossip pool.
The moments passed. Jill's body-quaking shudders subsided to minor tremors and Lindsay had consumed all Jill could give. She rose to her full height, wrapping her arms around Jill's waist and taking the blonde's weight as Jill attempted to compose herself. Jill draped her arms around Lindsay's neck, panting heavily into her shoulder.
"I hate you," Jill chuckled into Lindsay's neck.
"I know," Lindsay drawled softly, smiling back before tilting her head to press her lips against Jill's. The kiss was soft, slow and leisurely. But there was Lindsay's tongue, grazing across Jill's lips invitingly, and Jill could do nothing but give in to the request. She shivered at the taste of herself on Lindsay's tongue. She could feel her pulse beginning to rise, the receding throbbing at the pit of her stomach flaring into a dull ache. And Jill knew, if she didn't stop now, she wouldn't.
"What are we doing?" She pulled away enough to breathe quietly into Lindsay's open mouth.
"You need a diagram?"
"Linds?"
Lindsay exhaled, knowing this would be as far as she would get today, which was pretty damn far all things considered. Sometimes she pushed too hard on the invisible strands, thick as steel cables and still delicately fragile, that bound her and Jill together.
"I don't know," she finally answered. "I just.. sometimes I need you."
"But," Jill tilted her head upwards to meet Lindsay's eyes, thankful for the darkness of the tiny room. "Why can't you need me all the time?"
"Where the Hell have you been?" Lindsay slammed her apartment door behind Jill with a ferocity that made the walls shake. "I've been looking everywhere for you?"
Jill tilted her head back, exhaling raggedly as her shoulders sagged defeatedly. She'd practically run out of the Court House. It was raining and Jill had forgotten her umbrella. Jill didn't care. She needed to get away from the Court House, the reporters, the smiling lawyers and sympathetic colleagues with their 'I know' eyes. She started walking, and walking, and walking. She walked until the sky went dark and the streetlights turned on. Until she was soaked to the bone, and her $300 dollar shoes squished with every step.
She'd walked for what seemed like, and probably was, miles. And, without realizing it, had arrived on Lindsay's doorstep.
"Walking," she eventually answered Lindsay's question.
The brunette had already pulled off Jill's coat as she pushed Jill towards the bathroom. "We.. I was worried sick about you."
Standing limp and lifeless, Jill allowed Lindsay to undress her. She didn't have the energy to do anything but lift the attached appendages when asked.
"They let him go," she sighed heavily.
"I know," Lindsay answered, her brows furrowing sympathetically. Jill was deathly pale and just as cold. There were dark circles under her eyes and a lack of color in her lips. It was enough to scare Lindsay, but not enough to say anything. She grabbed a thick robe hanging on a hook and wrapped Jill into it, began vigorously rubbing Jill's shoulders and arms trying to warm her up.
"After all the evidence, all that testimony, they just set him free."
"We'll get him." Lindsay placed a towel on Jill's head and began patting her hair dry. "We'll get him."
"Yeah," Jill snorted derisively. "After he's killed again." She placed her hands on Lindsay's wrists, stilling the brunette's motions, to stop the trembles in her own hands. She could feel her stomach knotting with tension, the stinging salt building in the corner of her eyes. "I made a promise, Lindsay, a promise. I told her parents we'd get him, that he wouldn't walk.."
"Hey, hey," Lindsay cupped Jill's face with her hands. "Listen, if I have to call in every favor I'm owed, if I have to tail him 24/7 for the next year, we're gonna get him." She leaned in and pressed her lips to Jill's forehead. "I promise."
"Lindsay," she exhaled in a pained whisper. Her fingers clenched at Lindsay's shirt, hands balling into fists. She felt exhausted and wired, cold and hot, numb and like her very nerve endings were on fire. More than anything, she felt as if at any moment she would fall into a million pieces and the only thing holding her together was Lindsay. And Jill did the only thing that made sense at that moment - she pressed her lips to Lindsay's.
A pained whimper choked upwards from the back of her throat, and Jill really felt as if she were breaking into a million pieces. She wasn't supposed to want this. They were friends, colleagues. But she wanted Lindsay, she needed Lindsay. No one else would understand, no one else could pick her up and put her back together again.
"Please," she gasped as their lips broke apart. "I need you."
Lindsay's skin felt hot against Jill's. The warmth seeped into her, down to her bones, flaring outwards into a dull throbbing heat. Her body molded against Jill's like she'd been built just for Jill. She was strong, and smooth, and sweat-soaked skin slippery. Jill wrapped her arms around Lindsay's neck and torso wanting to feel all of her. And when Lindsay slipped her fingers between Jill's legs, Jill opened and arched into her, meeting her stroke for stroke until they were nothing but sweat and heat and friction and headboard slapping against the wall fucking. Because Jill needed to feel wanted, and loved, and alive. And no one could give her that but Lindsay.
She came hard writhing under Lindsay, nails digging into her back as those long, nimble fingers drew out her orgasm like a bow slowly drawing across strings.
After an eternity, Jill slowly opened her eyes. Lindsay was gazing down at her, triumphant Cheshire-cat grin with smoky eyes and dimples.
"Somebody's pleased with herself," she chuckled lightly.
"I like making you come," she said before gently drawing her tongue across Jill's bottom lip.
"You're very good at it."
"Practice does make perfect."
"Lindsay." Jill quieted, her voice lowering seriously. She'd once prepared a speech, two speeches actually. Speech number one was 'the breakup' speech, when one of them was supposed to be brave enough to end the thing between them that wasn't supposed to happen anymore. Speech number two was trickier. It had taken months to prepare, months of revising, re-revising, practicing in the mirror, dropping words and adding paragraphs. But, in the end, Jill could only settle on three little words.
"Lindsay, I.." she stammered, not quite sure what to say. It was so much easier when it was just her reflection in the mirror instead of two brown eyes gazing back at her.
"Yes."
Whether Lindsay anticipated what Jill was trying to say, Jill didn't know. Lindsay's lips had moved to Jill's neck, and her fingers were still inside her doing that slow, stroking, swirly thing with her fingertips. Jill said the next best thing, because as much as she wanted to say speech number two, speech number one was the logical outcome. And there was always time in the future for speech number one.
"I think," Jill purred. "I think I'd like to come again."
"Gah!" Lindsay grunted in frustration, flopping backwards onto the pillow and draping an arm over her face. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry." Jill leisurely kissed her way up Lindsay's stomach. "It happens to everyone."
"Not to me, it doesn't."
"Yes," she kissed Lindsay on the chin. "Even to the great Lindsay Boxer."
Jill rolled off of Lindsay and on to her side, propping her head up with her hand. "You wanna talk about it?"
"My inability to perform?" Lindsay mumbled through the arm on her face. "I think I've suffered enough humiliations for one day."
Jill pursed her lips to keep from saying anything. She'd learned, in situations like these, it was always best to let Lindsay decide when she wanted to talk rather than pry it out of her. She placed her freehand onto Lindsay's stomach, began gently caressing up and down the smooth plain of her skin.
"Well," she spoke after several quiet moments, her eyes twinkling playfully in the dim light. "If it makes you feel any better, my jaw was starting to hurt."
Lindsay chuckled, pulling her arm off her face and tucking it behind her head. "Fuck you."
"I was trying, but somebody's in a mood."
"Fuck you twice."
"I would." Jill pulled her hand towards Lindsay's breast, grazing her thumb across the nipple as she massaged the flesh with her fingers. "But then somebody would have to come for the first time for me to move forward to the second."
"You're an ass, you know that? A hot, adorable, incredibly sexy ass, but an ass nonetheless."
"Don't forget," Jill playfully pinched Lindsay's nipple just enough to make Lindsay's breath hitch, "intelligent and incredibly hot in the sack."
Lindsay licked her lips. "How could I forget."
"You did." She released Lindsay's nipple, drifting her hand down across Lindsay's stomach and sliding it between her legs. "But you were in a mood."
Lindsay grunted softly. "Moods change."
"Do they?" She asked coyly before leaning down to drag her tongue around an areola. "And what mood are we in now?"
"Don't know." Lindsay breathed heavily and smiled. "How's your jaw?"
"Depends." Jill kissed the space between Lindsay's breasts. "On what you're asking."
"I think you know what I'm asking."
She scraped her teeth down Lindsay's stomach, feeling the muscles twitch under her touch. She lifted her head slightly, all coy grin and twinkling blue eyes. "Do I?"
"Yes," Lindsay hissed, her hands already reaching for the slats on the headboard. "Don't make me say it."
"No," Jill paused to circle her tongue around Lindsay's bellybutton. "I want to hear you say it. You know I love it when you talk dirty."
"Fuck," Lindsay grunted in frustration, slamming her head back onto the pillow.
Jill had learned many things about Lindsay during their years together. The one thing that took her by surprise - Lindsay wasn't a fan of oral sex. More specifically, Lindsay wasn't a fan of someone performing oral sex on her. It's not that she didn't enjoy it, which she did, immensely and repeatedly, Jill made sure of that. Lindsay didn't like being vulnerable. And she saw someone going down on her as the ultimate act of vulnerability, of being open and exposed and submissive to someone else. It was an act of trust and Lindsay trusted very few people with her most delicate of body parts. That she trusted Jill turned Jill on in ways she could never fully explain.
Of course, that didn't mean Jill wouldn't make Lindsay beg for it. She parted the wet and swollen folds with her fingers, leaned in until her lips were a hair's breath from Lindsay's clit, pursed her lips and exhaled, her breath warm and wet and gale force strong. She felt Lindsay shudder, her hips arching upwards convulsively searching for friction. Jill pulled her head back slightly to avoid contact.
"Uh, uh, uh," she teased. "Not until you say the magic word."
"Goddammit, Jill! Would you," Lindsay hissed between clenched teeth. "Would you just fuck me!"
It was all the encouragement Jill needed. She pounced onto Lindsay, moaning hungrily as her lips wrapped around Lindsay's clit and she slid two fingers inside her. It wasn't like before where she had to initiate Lindsay's arousal. This time, Lindsay was wet, hot and wanting it, grinding onto Jill's tongue, clenching around her fingers like she'd never had her pussy eaten before.
Jill took Lindsay to the edge and pushed her over, battering Lindsay's clit with her tongue while squeezing it tight with her lips, pumping her fingers inside and out until Lindsay was a squirming live-wire beneath her. She didn't stop until she felt Lindsay's fingers digging into her shoulders begging for release.
She kissed her way back up Lindsay's frame, kissing and licking the salt off her skin, suckling her breasts, planting butterfly kisses along Lindsay's neck and jaw. She thread their legs together, pressing her thigh against Lindsay and slowly grinding her hips, milking Lindsay of every last shudder and twitch.
The time passed, their heartbeats slowing to a soft, comfortable rhythm. Jill nuzzled into Lindsay's neck quietly drifting off to sleep.
"Tom wants a divorce."
"What?" Jill's eyes snapped open as she lifted her head off Lindsay's neck. "Why? Does he know about us?"
"No! God, no," Lindsay answered. Her eyes were open and glued to the ceiling. "I think he'd kill us both if he knew."
"But why? I thought you two were.." Her voice trailed off. 'Happy' didn't seem the right word. She knew things were strained between the two. But she also felt if there were two people who could work it out, it would be Lindsay and Tom.
"Happy? Not in a long time." Lindsay shrugged. "Ever since I.. we lost the baby and the 'Kiss Me Not' case, things have been.. strained. I think asking for a divorce is Tom's way of a cry for help. To try and make things work."
"What do you think?"
"I'm not sure I want to make it work."
There was a moment where Jill's heart skipped a beat, where she wondered if she was reading more into this than she should. "You know I'm here for you, right? Anything you need."
Lindsay smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Jill's forehead. "I need this. I need you," she said before lifting her head and pressing her lips to Jill's.
The next morning, Jill awoke alone.
"Have you lost your mind?" Jill squeaked loudly. "Lindsay, I was joking!"
"You were?" Lindsay squinted her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"I don't know." The smile returned to her lips. "Do you think I would be standing here, wearing this," she used both hands and pointed towards her crotch, "if I thought you were joking?"
Jill exhaled, pressing a hand to her forehead. Lindsay had shown up at her door unexpectedly. "I wasn't serious."
"You should know by now that I take sex seriously." She stepped closer towards Jill, playfully tugging on the ends of Jill's shirt with her hands. "I take sex with you very seriously." Lindsay wagged her eyebrows. "You wanna touch it?"
"No!" Jill squeaked, backing away from Lindsay only to be stopped by the kitchen counter. "I don't want to touch it!"
"You sure?" Lindsay stepped into Jill, backing her against the counter and pressing into her. She purred low and throaty. "C'mon, it's awesome. It's so snug and fitting. I don't even feel like I have to break it in."
"Oh yeah, if you wanna use it so bad, why don't you ask Tom?"
"Tom's not the one who says he fantasizes about me fucking him with a strapon."
"I told you, I was joking." Jill licked her lips with a suddenly dry tongue. Lindsay was doing that thing with her lips on Jill's neck. The thing that made it hard to think let alone breathe. In the moments she could think, Jill decided she would have to start wearing fewer skirts. Lindsay had a habit of wrinkling them. Plus, it made Jill feel 'easy', like all Lindsay had to do was purr with her smoky voice, caress her with her strong, thin hands and Jill was lifting her skirt and opening her legs giving Lindsay quick access.
Already, Lindsay was pressed against her, muscling her way between Jill's not quite protesting thighs. And Jill could feel it – thick and hard and bulging under Lindsay's tight jeans. Lindsay rolled her hips, grinding it against Jill and, already, Jill was fucking dripping wet. Because she hadn't really been joking when she told Lindsay over cocktails her fantasy. But never in a million years did she think Lindsay would take her seriously.
It had been months since they'd been together. Lindsay and Tom were supposed to be 'working things out'. Jill was supposed to be moving on. A sort of 'don't ask, don't tell' impasse. Then, she was having drinks with Lindsay. And after one too many, divulging a fantasy she'd never intended to spill.
Now Lindsay was in her apartment, the counter digging into Jill's back as Jill was about to ruin another pair of pantyhose and Lindsay hadn't even fucked her.
Yet.
"Jesus, Linds," Jill panted into Lindsay's mouth, her fingers gripping vice-like onto Lindsay's leather jacket because her legs had turned to jelly and she wasn't sure she could stand anymore.
"Is that a yes?" It was supposed to be a question, it rolled off Lindsay's lips more like a statement of fact.
"Yes."
"Good. Now.." Lindsay stepped backwards, away from Jill and towards the bedroom, taunting her with the slow swagger of her hips and a hungry, predatory smile on her lips. "Take off your clothes."
Jill's hands were shaking and by the time she entered her bedroom, she was practically ripping the remainder of her clothes off her body. All while Lindsay watched her with dark, smoky eyes. She'd seen Jill naked for what seemed a hundred times but as Jill removed her last article of clothing and stood naked in her own bedroom she felt vulnerable.
Lindsay hadn't even begun to remove her own clothes. She stood at the edge of Jill's bed, hands tucked casually into her jeans pockets watching Jill undress.
She strode towards Lindsay, trying to hide the shakiness in her legs. She placed a hand on the collar of Lindsay's jacket. "Aren't you going to take off your clothes?"
"Nope." Lindsay pressed the back of her index finger onto Jill's stomach, slowly drew the digit upwards, between Jill's breasts then up to the bottom of her chin, tilting Jill's head upwards. "On the bed."
The bed was only two feet away and still it felt like forever for Jill to get there. She turned and sat down, scooting backwards until her legs no longer draped over the edge.
"Uh-uh," Lindsay shook her head back and forth while she peeled out of her leather jacket and tossed it onto a chair. "Roll over."
Jill swallowed hard, realizing she must have been drunker than she thought to vocalize that particular aspect of her fantasy. Nervously, she rolled over onto all fours, leaning down onto her elbows. She thought she heard a soft whimper but she couldn't tell over the loud hammering of her heart.
The bed dipped and squeaked lightly. She heard other sounds, a soft click and a soft, slurpy sound like lotion squeezed through a tube. Then she felt it - lube, cold and viscous poured liberally over the crack of her ass and sliding downwards. Next came the feel of Lindsay's fingers, massaging and exploratory, until every millimeter of Jill's pussy was sticky wet and slippery. Jill hissed, sucking her lower lip between her teeth to keep from forcing her hips backwards onto Lindsay's fingers.
There were more sounds, the ones that made Jill shiver in anticipation. The tinny clanking of a metal belt buckle unclasping, a button pushed through thick denim, the ragged tearing open of a zipper.
She felt Lindsay's hand on her ass, unusually warm and slick with nervous sweat. Then she felt it. Drawn teasingly and tauntingly over her lips and Jill pushed back with her hips because she wanted, she needed the penetration. Not because Lindsay had never been inside her. Just not like this.
"Jill," Lindsay's voice broke through the hazy fog of Jill's mind. "If it's too much let me know."
"Jesus," Jill grunted. "Would you shut up and fuck me."
Lindsay chuckled with the slightest tinge of a low, hungry purr, then slowly pushed her hips forward. Jill exhaled a keening whimper extending with every inch slowly pushed inside her.
"How's that?" Lindsay asked.
Typical Lindsay, Jill thought, knowing exactly what Jill needed, even when Jill didn't. It was perfect - long enough and thick enough without being too much.
"Perfect," Jill answered with a slow lick of her lips.
Lindsay began rolling her hips in a slow arcing motion, practically pulling it all the way out then slowly driving it back in. Jill moaned with each agonizingly slow thrust, her hands balling the sheets into tight fists. She pushed back her hips, matching Lindsay's rhythm and encouraging her to increase the pace.
Until their slow, steady rhythm crescendoed into a frantic, headboard-slamming-against-the-wall pace. Jill yelped with each hard jut of Lindsay's hips. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth gaping open. She tried her best to hold back, to quell the rising tension twisting deep in her gut, to extend the fantasy turned reality just a little while longer.
Lindsay had other ideas. She slid her hand over Jill's hip, then between her legs, pressing her fingers against Jill's clit and rubbing vigorously. Jill bolted and jerked, an expletive caught in the back of her throat, exhaled as nothing but a guttural moan. Jill could hold back no more. Like a sun gone supernova, she exploded. Her back curled, hips jerked and undulated wildly, muscles clenched and trembled, her feral scream muffled as she buried her face into the mattress.
Muscles turned to jelly and panting heavily, Jill collapsed onto the mattress. Lindsay gently and expertly turned Jill over, making sure to keep the plastic cock inside her and Jill began to wonder if this wasn't Lindsay's first time using the apparatus. She pressed their mouths together, battering Jill's tongue with her own and not stopping until Jill pulled away to gasp for air.
"Jesus Lindsay," Jill panted, trying wrestle some control over her sense.
"Jesus Lindsay," she grinned cockily. "I like that. Maybe I can get a placard or a nametag with that on it."
"Yes. Because that's just what you need something else to stroke your oversized ego."
"I don't know about oversized but I'm definitely onboard for the stroking part." She teased with a quick jabbing thrust of her hips that made Jill hiss and a new set of shudders to overtake her body. "Was it all you imagined and more?"
Jill waited for her shudders to subside, licking her lips slowly before opening her eyes. "Maybe."
"Maybe? It's not nice to taunt the woman wearing the plastic cock. Makes her think she might have to give you a spanking."
"Is that a fantasy of yours?"
"Maybe."
"Well then, I think I feel the need to confess." She tilted her head up, flicking her tongue across Lindsay's lips. "Because I've been a very bad girl."
Jill bounced softly in her heels, her fingers tapping animatedly on the handle of her briefcase. Lindsay stood next to her in the elevator. Eyes closed, hands tucked into her jeans pockets and her head resting back against the wall.
"Oh my God," Lindsay peered at her through a barely cracked open eye. "Are you humming?"
"Yes. I hum when I'm happy," Jill explained. "I can't help it if I'm happy. You should be happy too."
"If by 'happy' you mean 'drunk' then, yeah, you're happy." Lindsay re-closed her eye and tilted her head back. "And I am happy. I'm just using my inside smile."
"I'm not drunk." Which was partially true. They'd gone out for drinks and while Jill had a glass of wine and was considerably buzzed, it wasn't from the drink. "We did good today."
"No," Lindsay leaned over to nudge Jill with her shoulder. "You did good today."
"I couldn't have done it without you."
"True," Lindsay shrugged, pausing long enough for both of them to chuckle. "Doesn't mean you didn't play your part well."
The elevator stopped at Jill's floor. Jill exited first, Lindsay following. Jill slowed down enough until they walked shoulder to shoulder. "You didn't have to walk me home, you know."
"I didn't. We took a cab."
"You know what I mean."
"This is your night. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't make sure you got home safe and sound."
Jill stopped in front of her door. "Partner?"
"Yeah," Lindsay leaned against the door jamb. "I think we make a great team. Don't you?"
"Yeah," She paused, turning to face Lindsay and leaning against the other side of the door. "I do." Instinctively, Jill reached out, pressing her fingers lightly onto Lindsay's cheek. "You look tired." It was a bit of an understatement, there were dark circles under Lindsay's eyes, her skin a bit pale. She'd been working pedal-to-the-metal for the past week, helping Jill with the details of her case to make sure he went away for good.
"You should go home, get some sleep."
"Your couch is closer." She nodded towards the closed door.
"I don't have a couch." Jill had just moved into the apartment yesterday. The movers weren't coming for another two days. She had nothing but a desk, a bed and dozens and dozens of unopened boxes.
"You got a bed?"
Her heart skipped a beat then took off at a galloping pace. It took Jill a moment to realize she'd stopped breathing. Lindsay couldn't be asking what Jill thought she was asking. But Jill's hand was on Lindsay's skin. Before she could think, her thumb was grazing across Lindsay's lips and they felt smooth and soft and warm. Then Jill was moving, closing the distance between them because as good as Lindsay's lips felt on her thumb, she wanted to know what they felt like on her lips.
The kiss was soft, tentative, like trying to decipher between a dream and reality. Lindsay's lips opened and Jill felt the soft rush of warm, wet air on her lips. She took the opening as an invitation, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue inside. There was a moment where it felt.. right. Like she was supposed to be kissing Lindsay. Like it was supposed to feel good and right and perfect like a first time kiss should.
Then Jill's cognitive brain took over and she remembered things weren't quite so perfect. Like the fact that Lindsay was married. That Jill was a lawyer, she'd become an attorney to uphold the law. Infidelity wasn't technically against the law, but it was still breaking the rules.
It was wrong. Jill couldn't fall down that slippery slope nor could she take Lindsay with her.
She pulled her head back, breaking the kiss, slipping her hand off Lindsay's face and backing away. "Jesus, Lindsay," she stammered. "I'm sorry. I don't know.."
"Jill.."
"..I was just.. I.."
"Jill!" Lindsay placed both hands on Jill's face and pulled the woman back towards her until their lips were once again pressed against each other. Harder, urgent and hungry. She didn't pull them apart until Jill practically melted under Lindsay's touch. "You didn't answer my question," she panted into Jill's mouth. "You got a bed?"
By the time Jill opened the door and the two stumbled backwards into her apartment, Jill was shaking. She dropped/tossed her briefcase into the blackness of her apartment. They stumbled in the darkness, Jill maneuvering them towards the bedroom, knocking against boxes and books and the odd shoe. Connected at the lips, their hands fumbling against each other attempting to peel off their clothes. Lindsay won the battle, she'd removed Jill's coat, shirt and shoes (with a little help from Jill) by the time they reached the bedroom. All Jill had managed to remove was Lindsay's jacket which still hung from one arm as Jill's calves bumped against the edge of the bed.
It was an odd silent negotiation of give and take, kiss and uncover. Jill reached around to unclasp her bra while Lindsay worked on the zipper of Jill's skirt. Jill worked on the buttons of Lindsay's shirt, while Lindsay removed her belt and then jeans.
"Lindsay I.." Jill sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs too shaky to continue standing on. "I've never.." Her voice trailed off and her eyes wandered downwards to Lindsay's breasts where her hands had wandered subconsciously. The dark nipples contrasted against Jill's pale fingers.
Lindsay placed two fingers under Jill's chin, tilting the blonde's head up and their eyes met. She leaned down, pressing their lips together once more before pulling away. "Never what?"
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a croaked whisper. "Been with a woman." A married woman, the logical part of her brain internally corrected her. This was the part where Jill was supposed to say 'no', or 'stop' or 'don't'. It would be one of those moments they could chalk up to the alcohol, or just never talk about it again.
Except, she still held Lindsay's breasts in her hands, Lindsay's taste still lingering on her tongue. And Lindsay was looking down at her, smoldering, teetering towards pure lust. And Jill realized 'no' stopped being an option the moment she put her key in the door.
"Have you?" She finally managed to speak again. "Been with a woman?"
"Don't worry." Lindsay smiled almost predatorily. She leaned into Jill, pushing her backwards onto the bed. "I'll be gentle."
Lindsay kept to her word. She started with soft, butterfly kisses along the line of Jill's jaw, working her way down, worshipping Jill's breasts with her fingers, lips and tongue. Jill sucked her lower lip between her teeth, suppressing her whimpering moans.
When it felt like Jill couldn't take anymore, when her nipples throbbed and ached with a liquid heat that rippled across her skin, Lindsay moved lower. She scraped her teeth gently down the center of Jill's stomach, circled her tongue around Jill's bellybutton while her fingers played along the skin of Jill's thighs.
"Jesus Christ," Jill thought to herself, lifting her hips to allow Lindsay room to remove Jill's panties. "Lindsay Boxer's about to go down on me."
Nervous, Jill kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. Every time she closed them, she saw stars and her head felt dizzy, like closing her eyes made her other senses sharper and she couldn't handle the intensity. She didn't want to look down either. Jill wasn't sure she could handle Lindsay staring at her with her dark and smoky eyes without coming before Lindsay had a chance to touch her.
So, Jill stared at the ceiling. Lindsay had moved off the bed, kneeling between Jill's open legs. Jill felt Lindsay's hands on Jill's hips, pulling her down until her hips sat on the edge. Then her thighs were on Lindsay's shoulders, and Lindsay's breath was right there. Wet and hot and so fucking close, Jill snapped her eyes shut, slammed her head back onto the mattress. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit, anything to just hold on, to keep the twisting tension coiling in the pit of her stomach from snapping. Because she wanted it. She wanted it soo bad she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.
"Jill," Lindsay called out to her, cutting through the foggy haze. "Jill!"
"What?" She snapped back, slamming a fist onto the bed.
"Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me, Jill."
It wasn't a request.
Jill strained her eyes open, propped herself up on wobbly elbows. She looked down to see Lindsay staring up at her, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
"Watch me," she whispered huskily before dipping her face lower, eyes glued onto Jill's.
Somehow, Jill had forgotten to breathe. And when Lindsay's tongue softly licked up the line of her pussy, her lungs exploded in a throaty groan. Lindsay started slow with exploratory and teasing licks, parting the folds, teasing her opening, flicking across her clit.
Jill began to roll her hips with a feverish urgency. Lindsay pleasured her with a slow symphony of licking and sucking, friction and pressure. But it wasn't enough. Not anymore. The tension tightening within her instantly built to a fever pitch. She couldn't hold back anymore.
And Lindsay gave Jill just what she needed. She clamped her lips around Jill's clit, pulling, sucking, battering the tiny bundle of nerves with her tongue. Jill couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, couldn't stay upright on her shaky arms. She collapsed backwards onto the bed, hands balling into fists, back bowing, hips pumping wildly. She squirmed and wriggled like her body had lost all coordination. A keening wail exploding from her mouth as the orgasm ripped through her body.
An eternity later, after she's begged Lindsay to stop because the intensity was too much, when her spasms turned to minor shivers, and her breathing returned to something resembling normal, Jill opened her eyes.
Lindsay was curled next to her, one hand propping up her head while the other danced softly across Jill's stomach, a warm smile plastered across her lips.
"Jesus," Jill chuckled.
"You keep calling me that and I'm going to start getting a complex."
"Like you don't have one already." They shared a chuckle before quieting into a comfortable silence. Jill reached out and placed her hand onto Lindsay's cheek, caressing Lindsay's lips with her thumb. "Lindsay, I.."
The words never came out. Lindsay leaned down, pressing her lips to Jill's. Jill acquiesced. Opened her mouth, shivered at the taste of herself on Lindsay's tongue.
"This doesn't have to be anything more than what it is."
"What is this?" Jill asked. But it was the wrong question. She already knew what it was. What she wanted to ask was what if she wanted more. But she didn't because it would mean more talking, talking about things she wasn't sure either was ready to handle at the moment.
"What is this?" Lindsay smiled softly. "The beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"She's about to pop!"
Jill heard someone's voice, Claire's perhaps, over the dull throbbing of her own heartbeat pounding against her eardrums.
It's not that she'd never seen a dead body before. She had. But the bodies she'd previously viewed were in the morgue. Sure, she always got queasy but there was a clinical detachment to it. They'd been cleaned and scrubbed, partially covered with a tarp or a sheet, and Jill typically viewed them from behind the protection of a thick sheet of glass or, at least, twenty feet away.
This time was different. She was no more than five feet away, only nineteen years old and her life already over. She'd been dead less than an hour. Her skin still had color. Her eyes open, still bright and shiny blue as if she would wake up at any second. The blood pooled around her head from the deep gash across her neck. It dripped viscously from her neck onto the floor, like somewhere deep inside her, her heart was still barely beating.
Then there were the smells. The other ugly reminders of death they don't teach you in a textbook or can't smell from behind a thick sheet of glass. Blood and bile, the release of bladder and bowels.
Instinctively, Jill placed the back of her hand to her mouth. Her head began to spin. Her stomach clenched and trembled. There might have been a gag in there somewhere but Jill was too queasy to notice.
She felt someone encroaching her from behind. Two strong hands grabbed her by the arms and pulled her out of the room. They quickly wove their way through Detectives, uniformed cops and Forensics. Jill could feel her cheeks flushing pink. This was her first case. Vomiting on the crime scene wasn't the impression she wanted to make.
They made their way outside. There was a tree on the other side of the sidewalk. Jill pressed a hand against it for support before bending over and emptying the contents of her stomach.
Her savior placed a hand on her back, gently rubbing below her shoulder blades.
Jill pulled a tissue from her pocket, wiping her mouth before standing up. "Thanks," she mumbled softly. She turned towards her knight in shining armor and stopped in her tracks. She'd been expecting a detective, she hadn't expected long brown hair and dark eyes.
"Don't worry," Lindsay smiled sympathetically. "Everybody pops their first time. C'mon." She coyly nodded her head towards a parked police car while gently placing her hand on the small of Jill's back.
The two leaned against the car. Jill placed her hands in her pockets while taking slow deep breaths to quell the fluttering butterflies in her stomach.
Lindsay reached into her pocket and pulled out a small packet of saltines. She handed them to Jill. "Here. They held with the nausea."
"Thanks." Jill opened the packet and began nibbling on the corner of a cracker. "I don't even know your name."
"Lindsay Boxer." She extended a hand.
"Oh God," Jill mumbled, the queasiness in her stomach returning. "Jill Barnhart, DA's.."
"I know who you are."
"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better."
"Like I said," she nudged Jill with her shoulder. "Everybody pops their first time."
"Did you?"
She smiled a lop-sided grin, shrugging her shoulders. "No."
Jill rolled her eyes. "Figures."
"It was my third. And I had the pleasure of sitting in the back of an ambulance while a paramedic placed a cold compress on the back of my neck and my ex-partner bitched me out for embarrassing him."
"Wow. Somehow, a mini pep-talk and stale saltines don't seem so bad in comparison."
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Lindsay folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes made their way towards the apartment and the window of the latest victim. "You didn't have to come here, you know."
"Yes I did," Jill answered. The words firing quickly off her tongue. Lindsay turned her head to stare at her. "She deserves the best. Not someone who sees her as a case number and," she paused to chuckle as her cheeks lightly flushed, "someone who doesn't puke at a crime scene."
"Don't worry. We'll get him. Well, I'll get him and you'll put him away."
"Thanks."
Jacobi exited the apartment. Standing at the entrance, he searched around with his eyes until he made contact with Lindsay.
"I gotta go back inside." She fished into her pocket and pulled out her business card. "Here's my card. If you need anything. Or just, you know, wanna talk, don't hesitate to give me a call. There's a really great diner with a rhubarb pie that's like sex on a plate."
"Sex on a plate?" Jill grinned, tucking the card into her pocket. "I'll remember that."
Jill tucked her hands into her pockets, watching Lindsay as she reentered the apartment. She felt warm and comfortable and not quite as queasy as before. Her stomach still fluttered softly but Jill pushed away the thought in the back of her mind as to the reasons why her stomach still felt full of butterflies.
She called Lindsay later that night.
And Lindsay was right, the pie was 'sex on a plate'.
The End