DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters and I certainly do not profit from their use in my little ramblings. If you don't believe me, talk to my creditors. They'll be happy to explain it to you.
THANKS: To Shay, who sent me those absolutely gorgeous pix of Bebe in the outfit described in this story. You wanted a reward and I hope this fits the bill.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Kelly Gaffney hesitated outside Tracey Kibre's apartment door, the key she held wavering against the metallic mouth of the lock. She wondered what on Earth was going on.
The note attached to the single blood-red rose lying on her desk had been clear enough.
Come home. Now. Use your key. Don't keep me waiting.
The young ADA swallowed convulsively as she entered Tracey Kibre's uptown brownstone. She stood there for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, and just listened.
Locking the door behind her, Kelly pocketed her key and put her briefcase and overcoat on the mahogany bench in the foyer. She pulled on the hem of her white, razor-cut sweater and smoothed the front of her short, black skirt. She licked her lips nervously and quietly called, "Tracey?"
Kelly felt like the ubiquitous white girl in all the horror movies, the one with the high heels and the dying flashlight who goes upstairs to check out the thumping sound even though she's so scared she could pee herself. She left the foyer and entered the well-appointed, elegant living room. It was then she noticed a pathway defined by fresh scarlet and ivory tulips, their fragile blooms alternating by color and obviously pointing the way to...something.
Kelly trod the provocative path with a combination of child-like wonder and fitful butterflies in her belly. She and Tracey had only been lovers for six months and in all that time the older EADA had never done anything like this. Summoning her from the office while there was work to be done? It was unheard of.
It made Kelly nervous to know that her lover could be so commanding. Yet if she were to be completely honest with herself, it also excited the hell out of her. The throbbing ache between her thighs competed with the staccato beating of her heart.
The path of flowers took the young blonde through the living room and past the kitchen and then simply ended, right in the middle of the passageway.
Confused, Kelly took another stab at calling for her lover. "Tracey?"
"In here," came the low, rumbling response. The ADA felt her knees go weak with the desire she heard in Tracey's deep, silky tones.
Kelly turned the corner and entered the dining room through a medieval-style archway. What she saw inside the room--or rather, who she saw--caused her to stop dead just across the threshold. She wondered if her knees were actually strong enough to keep her upright.
Holy fucking Jesus God... Her stomach flipped and her mouth watered with a desire so stark, so immediate and intense, that she imagined a single word from Tracey right now would send her flying into the heart of a dark star.
Tracey Kibre, EADA for the Homicide Division of the Manhattan DA's office, stood near the cherrywood dining table. Well...not stood so much. Rather, she was bent at the waist as if looking for something on the floor. She was clad only in black silk thigh-high stockings, a black satin garter, a black lace bustier, and--here Kelly had to close her eyes for just a second--a black lace thong. As a result of the brunette's positioning, Kelly had the most amazing view of the older woman's pale and delectable derierre. An involuntary sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp wrenched itself from the back of the young blonde's throat.
"Do you like what you see, Kelly Gaffney?" Tracey did not right herself or turn to face her lover. She simply kept looking for whatever she had dropped beneath the table.
Her response sounding strangled and overeager to her own ears, Kelly said, "Yes. God, Tracey. Yes." She felt herself growing wetter by the second and her fingers itched to touch the ivory skin so tantalizingly displayed in front of her.
Tracey rose slowly, uncurling one vertebra at a time. When she was standing in her usual perfect posture, she turned, dark eyes sparkling. She was delighted by the raw need she saw in Kelly's eyes, made cobalt with her desire. Her smile was positively predatory.
"Then it's yours. Take it."
Thank you, God. It was the only coherent thought Kelly Gaffney could manage. Her trepidation of before evaporated like steam under the sheer heat of her aching need and she was fully inside Tracey's personal space with three long strides.
But she didn't touch her.
The predatory smile that sharpened Tracey's features faltered for just a moment when she saw Kelly's sudden shift in intensity. Pinning her lover with a sapphire gaze, the younger woman hovered just centimeters away from Tracey's mouth. The EADA could feel the electricity between them, imagined it arcing back and forth between them, white hot bolts of mutual hunger.
Please, she groaned inside her head. Please, Kel, do something...anything...
As if able to read the change in Tracey's demeanor, the young ADA's eyes became half-lidded and she sprang forward, nipping at her lover's lips. Diving forward and then away before Tracey could gain any purchase on her, Kelly's kisses were rough and brusque. The maddening brevity with which her lover came into contact with her left Tracey unable to decide if she were extremely turned on or extremely annoyed. She settled for both.
Kelly knew what she wanted. She wanted to hear Tracey's need. It had to be a sound. A word. A curse or a prayer. It didn't matter. She just wanted to hear it. She continued her teasing touches yet still managed to keep out of her older lover's considerable reach. It was the sexiest fucking game of Keep Away Kelly had ever played.
After the third time she reached for Kelly and was denied, Tracey realized her plan was practically exploding right in her face. So much for her fantasy of guiding "shy Kelly" out of her sexual shell. Kelly was calling all the shots at the moment and though it rankled a bit, Tracey had to admit it was exceedingly arousing.
If I'd only known... Jesus, where has she been hiding this...this passion?
Kelly's patience was wearing thin. Tracey smelled like sex and sour apples and her lips were hot and hungry. The magnetic force between them dragged on her like a killing undertow and it took all of her strength not to give in to her want right there. But no... She wanted the sound. Wanted it like children want Christmas Eve to be over already. Had to have it like addicts needed their next fix.
Just fucking moan, Tracey. I'll end this. I'll take you. I'll make you come. That's what you want. I know that's what you want. Just. Fucking. Moan.
Changing tactics in a last ditch effort to achieve her goal, Kelly dove again and aimed for a new target.
When Kelly's bright teeth seized her collarbone, Tracey realized that control was an illusion she often indulged in for the purpose of presenting herself in a position of strength. The truth was she'd never been in control of this; not of Kelly, not of their relationship, not of her own responses. She was a drowning sailor and Kelly was her mermaid, the one who lifted her up and out of the miasma of mundanity and loneliness; the one who held her up to the sky.
"Kelly, please," she begged softly. "I'm yours."
Kelly Nicole Gaffney could have cried. Instead, she paused for a flash of a second then lowered her head slowly, capturing Tracey's lurid red lips with her own cherry pink ones. She wound her arms around the smaller woman, groaning at the feel of smooth skin and soft lace. Her tongue begged entrance into Tracey's mouth and it was granted, leaving both of them drunk with frenzied need and wanting more.
Kelly slid her hands down to Tracey's bare bottom and lifted, purring her approval when the older woman wrapped her dancer's legs around her waist. She stood on her tiptoes just enough to settle Tracey on the edge of her long dining room table and with a fervor she rarely expressed outside the courtroom, she began to kiss a daring, electrified path over the brunette's jawline. The wet warmth of her mouth and tongue then traveled down the long curve of Tracey's throat, across her collarbone and lower, pushing lace aside to capture a berry-red nipple, pebbled with need.
Tracey hissed with pleasure and threw her head back, her long raven curls almost brushing the cleft of her exposed buttocks. Kelly smiled around the sweetly stiffening bud between her lips. Slowly, she lowered Tracey to the table's richly polished surface and reached for one of the dining chairs. When she caught her lover's questioning look she explained simply, "I missed dinner."
Kelly seated herself between Tracey's lovely thighs and lifted her muscular legs, settling them over her shoulders. With her slender, nimble fingers, she tugged away the wisp of black lace keeping her from her goal.
"Kelly," breathed Tracey. The crystal chandelier hanging over the table reflected the dying light of twilight that snaked its way through a bank of windows overlooking the street. Shards of amber, gold, and ruby light played over her body and dappled her eyes and she suddenly felt as if she'd been dipped in starlight. "Kelly..."
For just a moment, the young woman savored the sound of her name on Tracey's lips. It was like a heady wine that purpled her tongue before she lowered her ardent mouth to the center of her lover's need.
"God, honey... Yes..." Tracey's heart danced to a frenetic beat and her breath failed her, catching in the back of her throat and burning her lungs.
Unable to put words to her delight, Kelly let the silent language of her tongue against the velvet yearning of her lover speak for her. Here, submersed in Tracey's powerful need, she could say all those things she usually kept to herself: that Tracey was the most gorgeous woman she'd ever known; that she tasted like Tuscan sunshine and dark, mulled wine; that her own heart had already succumbed to the sweetness of new love and now was dreaming of futures not guaranteed or even discussed.
Tracey was a peregrine falcon riding the thermals of Kelly's devotion. She wheeled against the sky, wings spread to the wind in joy, searching for the places where a single breath took her higher into the clouds, diving into them and letting them lift her. Higher and higher still until she flew right through the sun, crying out her release, dissolving into ashes only to be born anew in the sweet, clear waters of Kelly Gaffney's pale eyes that looked at her with such love in them.
Uncharacteristic tears blurred Tracey's vision as she lowered her legs from Kelly's narrow shoulders. She sat up to meet her lover as she rose off the chair. Their mouths entwined desperately and their bodies melded together like an alchemist's concoction of platinum and iron. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, Tracey rested her forehead against Kelly's and reached for both her hands, holding them in her own with a fierceness she had yet to show to her young lover.
"Kel, honey," she whispered, not trusting herself to look up into a blue so pure it was like Heaven itself. "This...I never...oh, Kelly, I'm not any good at this. I'm old and mean and I don't know how to show what I am feeling, not with any proficiency..." She sighed and nuzzled her lover's face with her cheek. "But...if I promise to try...if I promise to be yours...yours alone...would you consider...being mine?"
Kelly made no attempt to stop the crystalline tears that slipped down her cheeks and she pulled her hands up from Tracey's, cupping her lover's face and kissing her so tenderly it felt like a feather on an Autumn wind.
"Tracey," she whispered, smiling gently, "I've been yours since the first time you touched me." She laughed at Tracey's look of surprise. "Stop looking so shocked, Counselor, and take me to bed. Touch me like only you can. Make me remember why the world is so damn wonderful."
Tracey blinked away her disbelief, lowered herself from the tabletop, and took Kelly's hand.
"Now," she agreed, tugging her beautiful angel love down the hall toward their bedroom. "Now and forever."
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