voice.”
Sloan rolled onto her back and lazily opened her eyes. “How come I’m wasted and you’re wide awake?”
“Because you did all the work,” Michael murmured, stroking Sloan’s cheek. “In fact, as I recall, you were having one of those butch attacks and wouldn’t let me do anything.” Her fingers hesitated, then began their slow caress again. “Are you afraid to let me get too excited?”
Sloan stiffened. “No. You had an orgasm, right?”
“Yes,” Michael agreed gently. “A very sweet, very tender, very quiet orgasm. And when I wanted to touch you, you—”
“Baby,” Sloan interrupted, “I just couldn’t wait. I just…lost it there.”
“I know, and I love it when you’re like that. When all you have to do is lie on top of me and come in my arms.” Michael leaned over to look directly into her lover’s eyes. “But tell me that you weren’t trying to keep me from exerting myself.”
“Ali said—”
“Ali said we could have sex,” Michael said firmly. “She didn’t say we could only have sex if I stayed very still and let you tend to me. That’s not the way we make love.” She kissed Sloan to take the edge off her tone. “I happen to like to make you scream.”
“Jesus,” Sloan groaned, her body twitching. “You know how crazy you make me. And just being next to you—”
“Is wonderful, yes. But it’s not everything that I want.” Michael glided her hand down the center of Sloan’s chest, over her stomach, and between her legs. She closed her fingers and watched Sloan’s eyes grow hazy. “I want you like this.” Never taking her eyes from Sloan’s face, she slid into her, pressing her palm hard against Sloan’s clitoris, still swollen from her recent orgasm. “I want to make you come my way, my time.”
Sloan’s chest jerked with spastic breaths, her hands trembling on the sheets. “Please. Michael, please, I love you so much.”
“I know, my darling,” Michael whispered, beginning to thrust. “I know.”
*
Sandy sat on one end of a leather sofa across from the matching one where Jasmine, in tight black satin slacks and a deep burgundy, scoop-neck top, lounged beside a redhead in a pale green oxford shirt and chinos. Sandy watched the two of them with curiosity, trying to figure out the score. Every time the really cute redhead—Sarah, she said her name was—spoke to Jasmine, she rested her hand lightly on Jasmine’s knee. Jason had said he liked girls the first time he’d helped Mitch get dressed. Sandy had made it pretty clear then that Mitch was off-limits, and Jason had said that wasn’t a problem because he was involved. As for Jasmine, Sandy wasn’t so sure. Jasmine flirted with the drag kings, so maybe Jasmine liked boys. And Mitch was a guy.
“Whatcha thinking, honey?” Mitch murmured, sliding an arm around Sandy’s waist as he settled a hip on the arm of the couch for support. He’d been using one crutch to get around, and he propped that against the back.
Sandy leaned into his body and tilted her head up to see his face. “Jasmine’s really hot, isn’t she.”
Mitch grinned. “Sizzlin’.”
“Phil,” Sandy whispered, indicating the small, hard-bodied drag king with the hint of five o’clock shadow, tight blue jeans that announced in no uncertain terms that he was a guy, and short-sleeved, retro striped shirt, “has the major hots for her.”
“As long as it’s her and not you,” Mitch growled as he dipped his head and kissed her behind her left ear. “All those guys are horny. I thought their tongues were gonna fall out when they first saw you.”
“They were just being guys,” Sandy said offhandedly. “At least they looked at my face before my tits.”
Mitch laughed softly. “It’s a tough choice.”
“You better think so.” Sandy dropped a quick kiss on his neck. “Is everything going okay?”
“Yeah, they all seem cool.”
“No questions about why you’re here?”
Mitch shook his head.
Sloan rolled onto her back and lazily opened her eyes. “How come I’m wasted and you’re wide awake?”
“Because you did all the work,” Michael murmured, stroking Sloan’s cheek. “In fact, as I recall, you were having one of those butch attacks and wouldn’t let me do anything.” Her fingers hesitated, then began their slow caress again. “Are you afraid to let me get too excited?”
Sloan stiffened. “No. You had an orgasm, right?”
“Yes,” Michael agreed gently. “A very sweet, very tender, very quiet orgasm. And when I wanted to touch you, you—”
“Baby,” Sloan interrupted, “I just couldn’t wait. I just…lost it there.”
“I know, and I love it when you’re like that. When all you have to do is lie on top of me and come in my arms.” Michael leaned over to look directly into her lover’s eyes. “But tell me that you weren’t trying to keep me from exerting myself.”
“Ali said—”
“Ali said we could have sex,” Michael said firmly. “She didn’t say we could only have sex if I stayed very still and let you tend to me. That’s not the way we make love.” She kissed Sloan to take the edge off her tone. “I happen to like to make you scream.”
“Jesus,” Sloan groaned, her body twitching. “You know how crazy you make me. And just being next to you—”
“Is wonderful, yes. But it’s not everything that I want.” Michael glided her hand down the center of Sloan’s chest, over her stomach, and between her legs. She closed her fingers and watched Sloan’s eyes grow hazy. “I want you like this.” Never taking her eyes from Sloan’s face, she slid into her, pressing her palm hard against Sloan’s clitoris, still swollen from her recent orgasm. “I want to make you come my way, my time.”
Sloan’s chest jerked with spastic breaths, her hands trembling on the sheets. “Please. Michael, please, I love you so much.”
“I know, my darling,” Michael whispered, beginning to thrust. “I know.”
*
Sandy sat on one end of a leather sofa across from the matching one where Jasmine, in tight black satin slacks and a deep burgundy, scoop-neck top, lounged beside a redhead in a pale green oxford shirt and chinos. Sandy watched the two of them with curiosity, trying to figure out the score. Every time the really cute redhead—Sarah, she said her name was—spoke to Jasmine, she rested her hand lightly on Jasmine’s knee. Jason had said he liked girls the first time he’d helped Mitch get dressed. Sandy had made it pretty clear then that Mitch was off-limits, and Jason had said that wasn’t a problem because he was involved. As for Jasmine, Sandy wasn’t so sure. Jasmine flirted with the drag kings, so maybe Jasmine liked boys. And Mitch was a guy.
“Whatcha thinking, honey?” Mitch murmured, sliding an arm around Sandy’s waist as he settled a hip on the arm of the couch for support. He’d been using one crutch to get around, and he propped that against the back.
Sandy leaned into his body and tilted her head up to see his face. “Jasmine’s really hot, isn’t she.”
Mitch grinned. “Sizzlin’.”
“Phil,” Sandy whispered, indicating the small, hard-bodied drag king with the hint of five o’clock shadow, tight blue jeans that announced in no uncertain terms that he was a guy, and short-sleeved, retro striped shirt, “has the major hots for her.”
“As long as it’s her and not you,” Mitch growled as he dipped his head and kissed her behind her left ear. “All those guys are horny. I thought their tongues were gonna fall out when they first saw you.”
“They were just being guys,” Sandy said offhandedly. “At least they looked at my face before my tits.”
Mitch laughed softly. “It’s a tough choice.”
“You better think so.” Sandy dropped a quick kiss on his neck. “Is everything going okay?”
“Yeah, they all seem cool.”
“No questions about why you’re here?”
Mitch shook his head.
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