Justice in the Shadows by Radclyffe Page A

breasts rested against Mitchell’s fly, and she rubbed them back and forth slowly as she worked her lips over the taut muscles. “You taste good.”
    The weight of Sandy’s body pressing into Mitchell’s crotch forced the firm form in her pants harder against her straining flesh. Discomfort became acute stimulation, and her clitoris twitched with warning spasms.
    “Wait…wait a second,” Mitchell uttered in desperation, one hand cradling Sandy’s cheek, the other reaching for the fly of her leathers. “Let me get this out of here.”
    Sandy grasped her hand and looked up. “Leave it for a little while. It’s sexy.”
    Mitchell blushed and met Sandy’s eyes. “It’s not…it won’t work.”
    “I don’t need it to work, idiot.” Sandy pulled the T-shirt over Mitchell’s head and reached for the tape holding the ace wrap in place. “I know who you are, Dell.”
    Mitchell looked down as Sandy carefully released her breasts, the blond head bent over her naked flesh. With trembling fingers, Mitchell stroked Sandy’s cheek, then ran her thumb over the full pink lips. Sandy bit the tip of her thumb, and her thighs tightened. When Sandy brushed her fingers over Mitchell’s nipples, she tensed and cried out.
    Sandy’s breath came faster, her hands shaking as she flattened her palms over the small firm breasts, massaging them gently. Moaning in surprise, she felt herself get wet. She hadn’t really expected that. All night she’d told herself she was just playing with Mitch to get him used to being treated like a guy. But she’d enjoyed it—more than enjoyed it. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she’d been hot all night. And she wanted Dell now, wanted her the way she hadn’t thought herself capable of wanting anyone—not this way, not in her body, in her blood. “Oh yeah, you feel so fucking good.”
    Through eyes gone dim with arousal, Mitchell watched Sandy suck a hard nipple into her mouth, and the sight and sensation drove her close to the edge. Whimpering faintly, dangling on the brink of exploding, Mitchell turned her head and sought Sandy’s gaze. “Please, Sandy…please.”
    “Mmm,” Sandy murmured, leaning close. “You are so sexy when you’re hot, you know that? I wanna keep you this way for a while.”
    “I’m gonna die…” Mitchell ached for the feel of skin against her skin, for Sandy’s flesh beneath her hands.
    They both jerked as a shrill ring pierced the room. Mitchell stiffened as Sandy cursed.
    “Mother fucker.”
    “What is it?” Mitchell asked, her stomach so tight with unrequited need she thought she’d be sick.
    “My phone.” Sandy’s voice was wild.
    “Ignore it, okay.” Mitchell drew Sandy’s hand down to her fly and pressed her fingers to the swelling there. She whimpered; she couldn’t help it. “Please.”
    The sound shrilled again.
    “No—it’s my phone. Jesus Christ.” Sandy was having trouble thinking clearly. She was so excited her brain was mush. “ Frye’s phone. That’s her calling.”
    Mitchell went cold.
    The phone rang a third time and Sandy lunged for her purse. “Yeah, what?”
    “How you doin’, Sandy?”
    “Peachy.” Sandy glared at Mitchell who had sat up and was pulling on her T-shirt in quick angry motions.
    “Did you get Mitchell squared away?”
    “Yeah.” Sandy laughed without humor. Oh yeah, I took care of her all right. Fuck.
    “ I still need the street intel on those filmmakers.”
    “Okay. When?”
    “How about right now.”
    Sandy panicked. “You can’t come up here.”
    “I wasn’t going to.” A beat of silence. “What’s the matter? You got someone up there with you?”
    Oh no, just Dell with a hard-on and pissed as hell. Jesus, she’d probably go for your throat right now. Sandy made a fast decision. “A john.”
    “That wasn’t the deal. You work for me, you don’t turn tricks.”
    “Look, I’ll meet you right now.”
    Another pause. “Okay. Meet me at Woody’s, in the back room.”
    Sandy