Brenda Leigh resisted the pull towards consciousness fiercely. Back in the depths of sleep, delicious dreams of Sharon - naked Sharon, bringing Sharon to orgasm with her tongue and fingers, Sharon fucking Brenda lovingly while holding her very close - beckoned; a siren call Brenda wanted desperately to succumb to instead of giving into the reality of a work day in the middle of the work week.
She grunted her disapproval; someone was shaking her.
“Brenda Leigh,” a low, familiar voice intoned. “Squeezing your eyes shut tighter and pouting will not change the fact that you have to wake up.” Sharon! All those lovely dreams weren’t dreams at all! At least, not dreams only, not anymore. Suddenly she was ready to spring out of bed. Her eyes popped open.
“Mornin’,” Brenda croaked, then grimaced at the sound of her own voice. Sharon was perched on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a towel, swimsuit straps peeking out and over her shoulders. Brenda caught a faint whiff of pool chemicals, though Sharon’s hair still looked bed-mussed and sexy. She was smiling fondly at Brenda, her green eyes crinkled warmly, and Brenda smiled back.
“You’ve clearly already had your swim, so how does your hair look so damn good?” Brenda wanted to know, her voice still rough. She also wanted to fist her hands in the luxurious mass of it and pull Sharon down to her for a kiss. Brenda knew exactly how soft that hair was - touching it was nearly irresistible.
“Swim cap,” Sharon said, and then shivered because Brenda Leigh was trailing a finger across her knuckles. Brenda smirked and rose up, intending to pull Sharon into bed with her and divest her of the towel and swimsuit. That intent must have been clear on her face, because Sharon dodged her arms.
“We can’t. We have to work today, and unless you want to wear the same thing you wore yesterday, you’ve got to go back to your place.” She smiled apologetically at Brenda, but when she took in what had been exposed when Brenda had made her play to get Sharon back into bed with her, she felt more sorry for herself than Brenda. The blonde’s sleek body was coiled amidst the rumpled blankets, a flush of arousal painting her pale skin and tightening her nipples, her hair a riot of loose waves that beckoned Sharon’s fingers, the generous mouth set in an exaggerated pout that begged to be kissed away. Sharon leaned in to do just that, heedless of morning breath or fuzzy teeth and tongue, and Brenda murmured happily as their lips met.
“Not that I don’t really, really want to, Brenda Leigh,” Sharon whispered against the blonde’s lips. Brenda smiled dreamily up at her, eyes a little glazed.
“’S good,” she mumbled. “More kisses, please.” Sharon obliged, moaning when the blonde’s tongue licked out to caress her lower lip, but resisted the backwards momentum Brenda tried to initiate to break away, breathing heavily. Brenda was leaned back on her elbows, smirking up at her, breasts thrust out proudly, bedclothes pooled around her waist, exposing her hips and the barest shadow of that secret place at the apex of her thighs. Every bit of Brenda Leigh was a temptation. Sharon clenched her hands into fists.
“Dear god, you are so beautiful,” Sharon breathed, and Brenda squirmed, the outlines of her thighs pressing together briefly under the sheets. “Tonight. Will you come back tonight? We can continue this.”
“Can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more, Shari,” Brenda said, and finally slithered out from under the blankets and stood to stretch on the far side of the bed in the weak morning light that filtered through Sharon’s diaphanous drapes. Sharon let her eyes linger on the sinuous curve of her lover’s back and the swell of her ass. After a long moment enjoying the sights of Brenda Leigh, Sharon shook herself out of her stupor and let her towel drop to the floor. She peeled off her bathing suit.
“Mind if I borrow your sweats? I’ll bring them back tonight.” Brenda swooped to scoop up the clothes she had taken off and put back on at least three times the day before.
“If you like. I wouldn’t let anyone get a look at you in that shirt though, honey. It’s a little see through.” Brenda pulled the pants up so they hung from her hips then rucked up the the thermal shirt and pulled it over her head. After she jammed her arms through the sleeves, Brenda looked contemplatively down at her torso. The textured, buff colored cotton clung to her breasts in a way that left very little to the imagination, and the dark circles of her nipples were clearly visible. She shrugged and rounded the bed to where Sharon was standing in front of her closet. Brenda molded herself to Sharon’s back and hugged her tightly around the waist, splaying her fingers possessively over Sharon’s stomach and kissing the bumps of her spine.
“I’ll be back at 8 to pick you up, Shari. I would say you could walk me out, but you’re pretty naked.”
“I forgot about my car,” Sharon admitted. She craned her neck around to share a kiss with Brenda. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half, then. Thank you, Brenda Leigh.”
“Thank you, Sharon Raydor.” They shared another kiss and Brenda left.
Brenda tripped into Major Crimes on a major high. She had just left Sharon in the garage - they had parted with a kiss. Sharon had not only provided her with a travel mug full of perfectly prepared coffee, but a tupperware of leftover pierogi with her name scrawled on the lid.
She dropped her purse on her desk and collapsed at her desk, allowing herself a silly grin and a spin in her chair, already feeling the anticipatory warmth of spending another night in Sharon Raydor’s bed and in Sharon Raydor’s arms. There was a knock at her door, and Brenda schooled her face into seriousness. It was Flynn.
“Hey Chief, Pope’s been in here looking for you.” She wrinkled her nose. He cocked his head at her. “Are you ok after what went down yesterday?”
“Yea.” She said, smiling at his concern. “Yea, I’m ok.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Chief. It’s nice to know you’re taking care of yourself.” He gave her a mock salute and stepped back from her door and away into the murder room.
Brenda pursed her lips. Why did real life have to intrude on her fantastic mood so quickly? What could Pope want? Even though he’d been confirmed as Chief of Police, Pope still dipped his fingers into the running of Major Crimes, though the case they’d been working was not one that he would normally show an interest in. She dialed his cell. He picked up on the first ring.
“Ah, Chief Johnson, hello.”
“Good morning, Chief Pope. Lieutenant Flynn said you were looking for me?”
“I was. Could I come by your office in the next thirty minutes or so?”
“I don’t see why not. Is it something urgent?”
“No, no. I just wanted to…catch up, and this is only time I have free all day.” Brenda snarled silently. ‘Catching up’ with Will Pope interested Brenda Leigh not at all. She had a case to catch up on, and images of a lovely brunette swimming in her subconscious that she wanted to spend some time considering - not to mention plotting out the particular ways she wanted to bring pleasure to Sharon later, in the evening.
“That’s fine. I’ll be here,” she said with a cordiality she did not feel.
Brenda buried herself in the reports that had piled up while she was out of the office yesterday. She had a mystery on her hands. TJ Bowers was out on parole in New York on an assault rap that he had served three of five years for. Released from Attica two weeks ago, he’d been in LA for twelve of the fourteen days he’d been free. Bowers’s New York parole officer had no idea Bowers had fled his jurisdiction, and no idea that he’d fled straight into the city where his ex-wife lived. An ex-wife who had a restraining order against him - granted because Mr. Bowers used his fists against his wife in ways it was surprising she survived. The wording of Provenza’s report made it seem like that parole officer didn’t really care, though she would talk to Provenza to be sure that was the case.
Additionally, blood work from the hospital indicated that Mr. Bowers hadn’t had any drugs aboard when he went on his little rampage yesterday, but his epinephrine levels had been abnormally high, almost off the charts. There were no underlying medical issues to explain his incredible strength and high levels of hormones and Mr. Bowers was offering them no help; he still hadn’t said a single word.
A mystery. Brenda Leigh loved a mystery.
It took Pope over an hour to make it down to Major Crimes. Brenda wasn’t surprised. The man could turn a five minute conversation into thirty. He didn’t knock. He never did these days.
She stood up when he entered, but instead of taking a chair, he propped up a wall, so Brenda plopped back down and yanked open her candy drawer. A little nibble of dark chocolate would remind her of the lovely chocolate dessert wine Sharon had opened for them last night.
“I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok after yesterday, Brenda.” He looked very concerned. “I heard you took the afternoon off.”
“I’m fine, Will. I needed the afternoon to make sure I had my distance - just a little lost time.” That the afternoon and evening had provided ample time for her to connect sexually with Sharon Raydor was just a happy bonus, as far as Brenda was concerned.
“I heard that Captain Raydor turned the investigation over to her Lieutenant and dragged you out of here with the suspect’s daughter.” He furrowed his brow. “Do I need to talk to her?”
“Who on earth told you that?” Of all the ridiculous… “Captain Raydor didn’t drag me anywhere, though we did take the daughter, whose name is Lucy, by the way, over to DCFS, and later, Sharon was helpful to me and a comfort to a traumatized six year old victim.”
“So she wasn’t causing problems for you? And it’s not causing problems with your squad that she isn’t running the investigation?”
“On the contrary, Will. Detective Sanchez was cleared before end of business yesterday. And Cap’n Raydor was kind enough to let Lucy and I stay at her house for a few hours while we found next of kin and knowledgable enough about the law to help expedite the paper work to get Lucy released to her aunts; and then she was thoughtful enough to let me relax by her pool and forget that I’d almost been pummeled in my own office by a 300 pound man on a rampage.” Making love by the pool was kind of like relaxing by the pool, wasn’t it? She felt the back of her neck grow hot with the memory of sitting naked on Sharon’s lap, poolside, Sharon’s fingers inside her, bringing her to orgasm.
“So you’re friends with Sharon Raydor now?” The look of disbelief on his face really incensed Brenda Leigh. She glowered at him.
“Looks that way,” she bit out.
“The same woman who you nearly came to blows with the first few times you encountered her in a professional capacity?” Now Pope was having a chuckle at her expense.
“Regardless of how we started out, sir,” Brenda said, putting emphasis on the honorific, hoping to stave him off before this got anymore personal. “Captain Raydor and I reached a professional understanding months ago, and it turns out we get along pretty well under less stressful circumstances.” And when certain people weren’t purposely setting them at odds with one another. She shrugged and broke off a tiny piece of chocolate and laid it on her tongue - the bitterness of the dark confection wasn’t dissimilar to the taste of Sharon. Brenda nearly moaned at the sense memory.
“You don’t think she has, maybe, I don’t know, an ulterior motive?” He suggested, staring at the shiny tips of his shoes, unable to meet her eyes, This was going to be good. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Office gossip says she’s ready to move on from FID. She already turned down one offer - maybe she thinks you can get her another. Plus…” He paused and averted his eyes. Brenda had to close her eyes briefly to keep from rolling them.
“Plus what?” He still wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Plus, she’s you know, a lesbian.” His neck flushed a brilliant red as he said the words.
“As opposed the to ulterior motives that characterize everything that you do these days, Will?” She growled, hoping he could see how angry she was at his implications. “First of all, Sharon Raydor is well aware that there is very little I can do for her as far as professional advancement is concerned. And secondly, so what? I shouldn’t be friends with her because she’s a lesbian?” Brenda fixed him with a flat stare. “Do I really need to tell you how wrong it is to even intimate that?” He had the grace to look a little embarrassed.
“I think maybe this conversation is over, Chief Pope.” Brenda stood, her voice hard, her gaze steady, gimlet. She knew his game. He wanted to cause problems between her and Sharon, just like he had the first time they had begun a tentative friendship.
“Chief Johnson,” he said tonelessly. And left. Brenda threw herself back down in her chair. Just peachy. Now the question was whether or not to tell Sharon that Pope was sticking his nose in their business, causing trouble. She should. She would. No falling back on old patterns and hoping the problem would go away before she had to deal with it.
TO: S. Raydor
Pope’s sniffing around, trying to cause trouble between you and me again. I shut him down, so he might try you next.
If Pope tried to come between her and Shari again, he’d learn what trouble was. Brenda put the phone on her desk and attempted to turn her attention back to the reports, but she found herself nibbling on her pen and cutting her eyes over to the stubbornly silent piece of technology.
FROM: S. Raydor
It figures. What’d you tell him?
They needed to get their stories together. Brenda hated this. She wanted to pull Pope back into her office and set him straight on a few things. She’d had bits of that particular rant floating around in her skull for years.
TO: S. Raydor
That we’re friends. That you kept me company while we waited for next of kin for Lucy. And that you let me sit by your pool and relax so I could come back today with a clear head. I figured making love by the pool counted as sitting by the pool.
Brenda set the phone down and let her eyes drop shut. Images from yesterday afternoon filled her forebrain - skin to skin with Sharon, folded on her lap in the big outdoor chair, her green eyes dilated, their expression soft, her lips parted, her mussed hair gleaming auburn in the fall sunshine, her stiffened nipples against the thin ribbed cotton of her tank top, one hand between Brenda’s legs, two of her long fingers disappearing into Brenda’s body.
Brenda shuddered, the scent of Sharon and arousal and a faint hint of chlorine played in her nostrils, even though she was alone in her sterile office in the sterile Police Headquarters. How was she going to get through this day?
She picked up her phone again. Brenda wanted Sharon to know how much their lovemaking, how much all of the intimacy they had shared, was affecting her, but they were still negotiating boundaries as to what was appropriate at work and when they were on duty.
TO: S. Raydor
You know, even with the near beating, yesterday was so amazing.
She picked up the records faxed over from the hospital again. She should probably take them down to Morales, and see about getting him a blood sample for independent testing. Her phone chirped.
FROM: S. Raydor
It was amazing for me too, Brenda Leigh. Will you come have lunch with me so we can take care of some…less pleasurable business? Nothing bad, so don’t get worried on me, I just want to get it out of the way.
Brenda screwed her mouth up. She was sure Sharon just wanted to hash out the details of how they would be handling their new relationship in the work place.
TO: S. Raydor
Sure can. What time? I like it when you call me Brenda Leigh.
FROM: S. Raydor
12:30? Even when we’re texting you like it?
TO: S. Raydor
See you then. Especially when we’re texting. It’s an even more deliberate choice then.
Brenda slunk into FID juggling the steaming tupperware and a bottle of tea. She ignored the strange looks and sidelong glances from Sharon’s people and strode into her Captain’s office without knocking. Sharon, crunching on a carrot, pen in hand, quirked her lips at her and swallowed.
“Chief Johnson. Please come in.” Sharon’s voice was all business, but her eyes and expression were welcoming. Brenda slid her burden onto the desk and turned back to close the door behind her. She snapped the lock into place, intending to procure at least a few kisses for herself before they turned to business.
“Come’ere a minute and lemme kiss you before we get onion pierogi breath,” Brenda said, and Sharon gave her a wry smile, rising from her chair and stepping around the desk to place her hands on Brenda’s hips. Brenda leaned in and up for a kiss. She liked that Sharon’s higher heels gave the brunette a few inches on her - it made it easier to rest her head on Sharon’s shoulder and inhale the mildly spicy scent of her.
They enjoyed the peace for an extended moment before moving apart. Brenda unlocked the door and sat down in one of the desk chairs, pleased that Sharon took the seat next to her instead of the larger seat behind the desk. Brenda plucked a fork from the pocket of her blazer, and as Sharon situated her food in front of her, carefully used the utensil’s edge to cut her dumplings in half to cool.
“So,” Brenda broke the silence. “How do we protect ourselves from Pope?” Sharon forked a partial dumpling into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before answering.
“You mean other than killing him and disposing of the body where it would never be discovered?”
“As much as I would enjoy committing premeditated murder with you, and though I have no doubts we would be anything but successful, I couldn’t do that to his kids. No child deserves to be raised by Estelle Pope.”
“Well, if felonies aren’t an option,” Sharon said, maintaining her impressively impassive expression, “then we have to disclose to some people, in order to protect the chain of command and the integrity of our investigations.” When Brenda merely nodded, Sharon gave her a disbelieving look.
“What?” Brenda asked. “Is this conversation not going how you planned?”
“I guess I had envisioned more protest and maybe some spluttering and indignation.” Sharon’s green eyes gleamed with sarcasm, and her mouth was smirking that pleased little smirk. Brenda made a face at her and then popped a pierogi in her mouth, mock scowling as she chewed.
“Did you really think I would be so averse to telling people?” Brenda queried softly. Sharon shrugged.
“I tend towards pessimism sometimes, Brenda Leigh. If you expect the worst and prepare for the most painful eventualities, most of the time you’re pleasantly surprised.” She smiled sadly, hoping Brenda would understand that this tendency was rooted well back in Sharon’s history and had very little to do with their past interactions.
“I don’t want you to feel pessimistic about us, Shari.”
“I’m not, not about us.”
Brenda returned her sad smile and hit on the heart of Sharon’s concerns: “But you are pessimistic about me coming out.” Sharon averted her eyes. She couldn’t shake the knowledge that Brenda had been with Neecie for nearly four years and had hidden her relationship for the duration.
“Sharon, the last time I was with a woman, she wanted very much to stay closeted, and I had no way to counter her assertions that her parents would drag her away if they even got a whiff of what we were doing. And no way to protect her or support her if they did.”
Brenda laid a gentle hand on Sharon’s wool clad knee. “The titillation of hidin’ the most important relationship in my life from everyone wore off real damn quick, Sharon. And as for us, the thought of kissin’ you when I leave your office for all those hard working officers to see is much more titillatin’ than hidin’ this.”
“Exhibitionist,” Sharon murmured, her lips quirked amusedly. Brenda gave her a smug, but fond, look, though she flushed a bit at the accusation.
They ate in reflective silence until Brenda asked: “So who should we tell?”
“Someone in our squads who can take point on investigations if we encounter a conflict of interest. For me, that’s Elliot. For you, I would suggest Andy, because, well, he figured us out yesterday.” Brenda raised a startled eyebrow at her, clearly wanting Sharon to explain.
“I answered a call for you yesterday, when you were sleeping. And you called me ‘Shari baby’ about two centimeters from the phone. And when you were upstairs with Lucy’s aunts, he kept looking at me like he couldn’t figure out how he’d missed that I was human. And he was staring at my ass.” Brenda made an outraged sound.
“No wonder he looked so smug this mornin’. Oooooo, I’m gonna get him good.” The look of anticipatory glee on Brenda’s face made Sharon’s stomach flutter pleasantly, and she rolled her eyes, at herself and Brenda.
“Brenda Leigh, don’t torment him too much - remember we want him to keep our confidence,” Sharon admonished jokingly.
“Naw, he wouldn’t tell tales. He’ll tease me back something fierce, though.” Sharon snorted. Sometimes Major Crimes was more like a middle school than an elite investigative unit.
“We also need to tell someone from HR. And if at any time you come under investigation, I’ll probably need to talk to the Inspector General. So don’t shoot anyone. Please.”
“I am well known for my sense of humor, Brenda.” Sharon declared haughtily, her face breaking into a broad smile when Brenda giggled at her.
“You should be,” Brenda retorted. “What time do you think you’ll finish up tonight?”
“I’m leaving at 6, unless I catch a case. Just leave the tupperware. I’ll take care of it.”
“Expect me before 7. Can I pick up dinner or something?” Sharon shot her a bemused look.
“Mmmmm, let me think about what I’ll want to eat, and if I feel like cooking it.” Sharon was too full to think about dinner at that second. Brenda rose then, wanting to prolong their lunch break, but not having a legitimate reason to do so. Sharon stood too, and they huddled close together, heads bowed, hidden behind a mingled curtain of red brown and muted gold hair.
“Love you, Shari,” Brenda breathed, laying her palm on Sharon’s stomach, thumb caressing the brushed emerald silk of her short sleeved shell. Sharon loosely twined a blonde wave around a delicate finger.
“Love you too, Brenda Leigh,” she husked.
Before stepping into Major Crimes, Brenda poked her head around the door, wanting to be sure her target was present, and there was an audience, before she began her performance. She was going to scare the shit out of Lieutenant Flynn, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. Flynn was at his desk, and Tao was the only one missing from the group.
Brenda schooled her features into what she hoped was a suitably grim expression and marched into the murder room. “Lieutenant Flynn, with me,” she barked. She ignored the smirking boys and the gaping Andy and pushed into her office. Brenda had snapped the blinds shut and sat down when Flynn entered, wild eyed and faking calm. He hovered not far from the door.
“Take a seat, Lieutenant.” He did, perching rigidly in one of the chairs in front of her desk. He looked at her expectantly, she gazed back calmly, praying that her eyes didn’t betray the fact she was trying not to giggle like a madwoman.
“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” She was trying Sharon’s low voiced method of intimidation, and it must have been working, because Andy’s eyes widened and she could see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out what he had done to warrant discipline.
“Uh, I’m sorry?” He offered, cringing. Brenda remained silent and kept an even gaze on him, so he tried again: “To be honest, Chief, I have no idea what I did.” She flashed him a smile.
“To be honest, neither do I.” She paused and gave him a stern look. “Though I would appreciate it if you would refrain from ogling my Cap’n Raydor, even if she looks really nice in jeans.” Andy smirked and couldn’t help that the expression turned into a genuine smile.
“Of course Chief. I’ll do my best.” He made as if to push out of his seat. “I’m going to get back to work, unless there was a real reason you pulled me in here.”
“Yes, actually there is.” Andy relaxed back into his chair. Brenda was suddenly nervous. “If our investigations intersect with FID in the future, you’re going to be in charge. Captain Raydor will be having this conversation with Lieutenant Elliot in the near future.” Andy studied her thoughtfully.
“Ok, I guess if the two of you think it’s necessary.” She nodded.
“We do. There are other considerations, beyond chain of command and protecting investigations from any accusations of impropriety.”
“By considerations, you mean Pope and his torch.” Andy said, smirking again. Brenda scowled at him, which merely made him grin.
“Yes, that’s what I mean, Lieutenant,” she groused. Stupid Pope and his stupid bitter ex-wife and her big stupid mouth.
“So you and the Captain are preparing for the long term? As in, eventually, this won’t be a confidence I have to keep?” He looked thoughtful again. Brenda narrowed her eyes at him - dangerous things occurred when Andy Flynn actually used the brain in his head.
“That’s the plan. If you aren’t comfortable with this, I don’t know what to tell you.” Brenda spread her hands palm up in a helpless gesture. “Can’t un-ring a bell.”
“That’s not it at all, Chief. I’m glad you and the Captain feel you can trust me with this. And I’m glad that you’re happy. But…” He paused and twisted his face into an exaggeration of despair.
“But what? I can’t even begin to guess what that face means. Have you been poisoned?”
“I guess I’m just mourning that two of the most beautiful single women in the department are suddenly off the market.” His expression changed again, to that familiar smirk. “I just don’t know that my imagination is up to comforting me during this time of deep sadness.” Brenda gaped at him.
“Out! Get out!” She was torn between laughing and leading him out of the office by his ear. “Get out before I sic the Captain on you!” He winked, mock saluted, and left.
Sharon yanked the door open bare seconds after Brenda had knocked. She pulled her Chief into the house and into her body by the collar of her not hideous cardigan and kicked the door shut behind them. Sharon kissed Brenda feverishly, and Brenda didn’t protest, parting her lips to allow Sharon’s demanding tongue access.
Brenda’s hands realized her Captain’s state of undress before she actually saw what Sharon had answered the door wearing. Brenda dropped her overnight bag, purse, and the hanger that held her outfit for the next day to fill her arms with Sharon Raydor, and was surprised to find no barrier between her hands and the soft skin of Sharon’s lower back. She wrenched her lips away from Sharon’s and pulled back a little to take in the hungry brunette.
Sharon’s black gabardine suit skirt was unzipped and hung low on her hips, below the soft curve of her stomach. A hint of scalloped bronze embroidery was visible along the finished edge of the waistline. The slight freckling of Sharon’s chest was hidden by her flush, and her breasts were packed into a matching bronze lace bra, the sheer demi cups displaying her tightly furled nipples quite clearly. Her hair was loose - a profusion of chocolate swirling over her bare shoulders.
“You awful hypocrite! Callin’ me an exhibitionist and here you are answering the door in your bra.” Sharon smirked and kissed Brenda again, softly this time, spinning them around and maneuvering Brenda backwards toward the couch. When her heels hit the piece of furniture, Brenda let herself fall back on it. Sharon followed her down and their lips met again. Before Brenda could get her brain and hands coordinated enough to find the zipper at the side of Sharon’s skirt, Sharon was kneeling in front of her, reaching up under her pastel patterned skirt to hook fingers into the elastic of her panties.
“Lift up,” Sharon husked. Brenda did, amazed that these were the first words Sharon had spoken since she’d been pulled into the house. It didn’t feel like her Captain had been silent; her eyes and lips and hands had communicated to Brenda quite clearly. “I’m glad you’re here,” they said. And, “I missed you.” And very adamantly, “I want you.”
Sharon rolled Brenda’s panties down her thighs, over her bent knees, and to the floor. Then she rucked up Brenda’s skirt, and with gentle hands, spread Brenda’s legs wide enough to accommodate her shoulders. Sharon leaned in, mossy eyes fixed on Brenda’s, and Brenda felt her stomach muscles clench in anticipation. Sharon hadn’t done this for her yesterday - she had used her fingers, and had guided Brenda in riding the firm muscles of Sharon’s thigh, holding her close every time.
When the warmth of Sharon’s tongue penetrated Brenda shallowly and then slid up to tease her clit, Brenda gasped, fighting to keep her hips on the couch. Sharon moaned into Brenda, like it was Brenda’s tongue on her and in her, and the vibrations made Brenda moan too. Parting her inner labia delicately, Sharon sucked first one lip, and then the other into her mouth, her nose making firm contact with Brenda’s clit.
Sharon manipulated Brenda’s labia with her mouth and teased the entrance of Brenda’s vagina with her tongue, ignoring her clitoris, until the blonde was a sopping, trembling mess. From where her arms and hands were wrapped around Brenda’s thighs, Sharon could feel the tension coiled in her lover’s lower body: every muscle was taut, the pressure around Sharon’s ears was intense, and her chin and cheeks were smeared with evidence of Brenda’s arousal. The feeling of Brenda’s need surrounding her was exquisite; sympathetic moans burbled from her throat and she could feel her own desire moistening the gusset of her panties.
Through toying with the blonde, Sharon applied forceful suction to Brenda’s clit. Brenda drew in a great breath and then wailed as she came, one heel digging into Sharon’s back, hips jerking up off the couch. Sharon kept up her attention until Brenda was still except for periodic shivers wracking her slender body. With a last, fond lick, Sharon removed her head and re-situated Brenda’s skirt. She then pivoted the supine woman so she was stretched out fully on the couch. Sharon curled up alongside her, hiking up her own skirt to cock a leg over Brenda’s hip, an arm slung across her middle. She felt a hand snake over her back and settle on her hip, fingers trailing tender patterns on the scar there.
“Well hello to you, too, Cap’n Raydor,” Brenda said in a dreamy tone. Sharon propped herself up on an elbow to lean in for a kiss.
“Was that ok?” Sharon asked, suddenly nervous that her spontaneous desire to have Brenda might have been a little…aggressive.
“Was it ok that a beautiful, half naked woman pulled me into her house and proceeded to tongue fuck me into oblivion?” Brenda clarified sardonically. “I’m clearly incensed and as soon as I can walk again, I’m storming out.” Brenda turned over on her side and pressed her body into Sharon’s.
“You can manhandle me anytime you like, Sharon Raydor,” Brenda purred into Sharon’s ear, then flicked her tongue along the lobe and down the side of her neck. “Now get rid of that skirt. I wanna see the panties that match that bra.” Sharon wiggled out of her skirt and kicked it off onto the floor and Brenda scooted back enough to get an eyeful of the sheer, low slung bikinis that clung to Sharon’s hips.
“Gorgeous,” Brenda sighed. She let her eyes rake over Sharon, contemplating all the enticing options available to her. Her head fairly buzzed with the possibilities, but her opening gambit was simple - she slid her hands onto the small of Sharon’s back and pulled them closer. Now nose to nose, Brenda brought their foreheads together, taking in Sharon’s dilated pupils.
“How long had you been thinkin’ of doing that for me, Shari?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. “I’ve been thinkin’ about your mouth on me ‘bout as long as I’d been thinkin’ ‘bout tasting you.” Sharon moaned, her lips parting slightly and her hips jerked into Brenda’s. Brenda wormed her hands under the elastic of Sharon’s panties to grasp the soft globes of her ass. She squeezed and Sharon moaned again. Brenda captured the woman’s lower lip and sucked on it gently. Brenda loved the contrasts she was discovering in Sharon: the intense and reserved police Captain who rarely smiled, had incredible focus and dressed in conservatively cut suits and the woman who had a smile that truly could, Brenda thought, light up a room, who wore these mere whispers of lingerie and greeted her lover half naked at the door.
“Let’s get these panties off, baby. I would very much like to see you in them again and this mesh seems very delicate.” Sharon wriggled out of the scrap of fabric much as she had her skirt and the panties disappeared onto the floor.
In her mind’s eye, Brenda could see the path her finger drew along Sharon’s slit, making only fleeting contact. The coarse hair on Sharon’s outer labia and the smooth skin of her inner labia were slick with arousal. She flicked her thumb across the nodule of Sharon’s clitoris, eliciting a gasp.
“Oh,” Brenda sighed. “I bet you’re close, aren’t you?” She firmly grasped the fleshy part of Sharon’s mound, folding it in her hand, and with her thumb, found the button of Sharon’s clitoris and pressed on it. It jumped away from her fingers and then back when she let up. Brenda repeated the motion. And then again and again, setting a fast pace, jerking Sharon’s clit. The movement of Sharon’s hips set a counter point to Brenda’s rhythm, pushing herself into Brenda’s hand even harder.
“You feel so good in my hand, Shari. So warm and wet.” Brenda murmured. “Later I’m going to taste you. I’ve been thinking about it since this morning when I laid a piece of dark chocolate on my tongue and nearly moaned, cuz it tasted just like you.”
Sharon’s eyes fluttered closed. “Fuck,” she groaned, the steady drumbeat of her hips faltering. Brenda thrummed Sharon’s clit faster, and with a few more stuttering thrusts, Sharon fell over the edge, eyes popping open, lips seeking Brenda’s, sending the moan of her satisfaction into the other woman’s mouth.
Sharon rode herself out on Brenda’s hand, chasing those last few pulses of pleasure before melting into the blonde. After uncramping her hand, Brenda couldn’t resist dipping two fingers into the wetness accumulated between Sharon’s legs and bringing the fingers to her mouth. Affecting a wide-eyed expression, she sucked them clean under Sharon’s lascivious gaze, moaning.
“Fuck,” Sharon groaned again, and kissed her.
Dinner was a large spinach salad with pear and gruyere and chicken breast marinated in some sort of vinaigrette. Sharon opened a Sauvignon Blanc to enjoy with the meal.
“Do you always eat like this?” Brenda queried around a mouthful of tender white meat. Sharon smiled at her, wine glass poised at her lips.
“If by ‘like this’, you mean quick and dirty with almost no prep time, then no, I usually spend more time cooking. But tonight, I thought there might be…other things you’d rather be doing.” Brenda blushed. Sharon smirked.
“Regardless, I think I’ve eaten better in the past few weeks than I have in years, so thank you.”
“You are very welcome.” Sharon said warmly. “It’s nice to cook for someone who enjoys food as much as you do, Brenda Leigh.”
“Did your mama teach you to cook like this?” Brenda asked casually, though her attention was riveted on on the brunette. Sharon chuckled.
“I think my mother enjoys cooking about as much as you do.” Sharon picked a piece of pear out of her salad and popped it into her mouth. “I spent a lot of time in our kitchen with the family cook - after school and in the summers she would teach me and I would help her.”
“The family cook, eh? What did your parents do?”
“I forget that you don’t know as much about my family as I do yours.” Sharon said with a soft smile, reaching across the table to lay her fingers on Brenda’s forearm. “My family owns and operates a textile company. My dad was CEO until ’95. Mom was an English professor at UC Santa Cruz.”
“Were you ever interested in the family business?”
“No, never. I have a whole passel of first cousins that took various positions in the company, but I never had more than a passing interest.” Sharon placed her fork and knife in her shallow bowl and leaned back in her seat. After they had made love, Sharon had pulled on a matte silk robe in gun-metal gray. She had belted it loosely and the deep v exposed the valley between her breasts and a strip of skin down to her naval. She looked delicious and Brenda was ready to be through with dinner.
“So I was thinkin’ about tomorrow night,” Brenda said, apropos of nothing, as she was loading the dishwasher. Sharon, washing the large wooden bowl that she’d mixed the salad in, shot a glance over at the blonde.
“I can’t,” Sharon interrupted whatever Brenda was going to say next. “I’m on desk duty at the shelter I volunteer at from 6 pm to 6 am tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Brenda felt a little ashamed of her disappointment. “We’re still planning on this weekend, though, right?”
“Definitely.” Sharon husked, placing the bowl in the dish drain and drying her hands on a towel. Brenda closed the dishwasher and stepped into her Captain’s body and brought their lips together.
One long kiss later, Sharon pulled away. “Let me set up the coffee maker, and then we can go up to bed.”