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What Reviewers Say About The Authors

Karin Kallmaker

“Kallmaker has a sure sense of the power of language and of the

power of eros. The two are combined in scenes that left me gasping…

with pleasure.” – Bay Area Reporter

“Kallmaker does not disappoint anyone expecting sex on every

page. It’s there; it’s hot; it’s imaginative; and the bonus is that it’s

well-written and well, entertaining . ” – Lambda Book Report

“Kallmaker adds plenty of heart-stopping, toe curling, multiorgasmic sex to her erotic repertoire.” –Bay Windows

“Kallmaker’s characters are engaging, her sex scenes are intense—

she’s the lesbian hybrid of Joyce Carol Oates and Danielle Steele.”

–Book Marks

Radcly ffe

“Change of Pace: Erotic Interludes…is…not only about sex, but

also about love, longing, lust, surprises, chance meetings, planned

meetings, fulfi lling wild fantasies, and trust. Radclyffe is masterful at

wrapping subtle plots, inspired settings, and entertaining characters

around an incredible variety of hot sex scenes.” – Midwest Book

Review

In Sweet No More…“Radclyffe then takes the reader into the

darkened corners of a BDSM world and blends male terminology

with female anatomy in a disconcerting meld of the boldest and

most brutal sexuality.” –Eroticarevealed.com

“Radclyffe can write…sex scenes, so hot, fresh, and so alive that the

scenes radiate off the page.” –Lambda Book Report

“Another form of transgression can be about the connections we

form that defy societal expectations…like the woman headed to a

sex club who wants to shed her sweet image in Radclyffe’s story.”

–Best Lesbian Erotica, 2008

IN DEEP

WATERS 2

Cruising the Strip

by

RADCLY f FE &

KARIN KALLMAKER

2008

IN DEEP WATERS 2: CRUISING THE STRIP

©2008 RADCLYFFE AND KARIN KALLMAKER. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

ISBN10: 1-60282-013-9

ISBN13: 978-1-60282-013-5

THIS TRADE PAPERBACK IS PUBLISHED BY

BOLD STROKES BOOKS, INC.

NEW YORK, USA

FIRST EDITION, MAY 2008

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, AND

INCIDENTS ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR

ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS,

LIVING OR DEAD, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALES

IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

THIS BOOK, OR PARTS THEREOF, MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY

FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION.

CREDITS

EDITOR: CINDY CRESAP

PRODUCTION DESIGN: J. B. GREYSTONE

FRONTISPIECE: BARB KIWAK (www.kiwak.com)

COVER GRAPHIC: SHERI (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)

RADCLY f FE’S DEDICATION

To Lee

All the Stories

KARIN KALLMAKER’S DEDICATION

Humbly dedicated to Radclyffe and Linda Hill

for fi guring out a way for me to have so much fun.

Was it good for you?

Thank you to my partner and children for their support

and tolerance, and to friends and readers everywhere for

encouragement and inspiration.

By Radcly ffe

Romances

Innocent Hearts

shadowland

Love’s Melody Lost

Fated Love

Love’s Tender Warriors

Turn Back Time

Tomorrow’s Promise

Promising Hearts

Passion’s Bright Fury

When Dreams Tremble

Love’s Masquerade

The Lonely Hearts Club

The Provincetown Tales

Safe Harbor

Beyond the Breakwater

Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

Storms of Change

Winds of Fortune

Honor Series

Justice Series

Above All, Honor

A Matter of Trust (prequel)

Honor Bound

Shield of Justice

Love & Honor

In Pursuit of Justice

Honor Guards

Justice in the Shadows

Honor Reclaimed

Justice Served

Honor Under Siege

Erotic Interludes: Change Of Pace

(A Short Story Collection)

Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

By Karin Kallmaker

18th & Castro

All the Wrong Places

Bell, Book and Dyke: New Exploits of Magical Lesbians

Car Pool

Christabel

The Dawning

Embrace in Motion

Finders Keepers

Frosting on the Cake

In Deep Waters 1: Cruising the Seas

In Every Port

Just Like That

The Kiss That Counted

Making Up for Lost Time

Maybe Next Time

Night Vision

Once Upon a Dyke: New Exploits of Fairy Tale Lesbians

One Degree of Separation

Painted Moon

Paperback Romance

Seeds of Fire

Sleight of Hand

Stake through the Heart: New Exploits of Twilight Lesbians

Substitute for Love

Sugar

Tall in the Saddle: New Exploits of Wild West Lesbians

Touchwood

Unforgettable

Watermark

Wild Things

Radcly ffe’s Acknowledgments

By the time I fi nished my fi rst cruise with Karin Kallmaker, I

was ready to book a return trip. Everything about In Deep Waters 1:

Cruising the Seas (Bella Books, 2007) from the fi rst page to the last,

was fun, creatively challenging, and satisfying. What more could an

author want? Well, I wanted to do it all again—and luckily, so did

Karin (which is a very good thing, because we’d already promised

our respective publishers one volume each before we’d even set sail

the fi rst time). I think we both worried a little bit more on the maiden

voyage because what if we didn’t get along? What if we couldn’t

concur on a story order? What if, gasp, we couldn’t agree as to who

was on top (or not)? As it turned out, we had no trouble either time

negotiating a more than satisfying arrangement regarding scenes,

accoutrements, and accessories (and who got to play with what

when). Vegas is one of my favorite cities and thanks to Karin, it is

now one of my favorite literary haunts.

Many thanks to Cindy Cresap for forging a whole from twentyfour selections by two authors with different voices, different rhythms,

and different styles. An anthology with multiple authors is far easier

to edit because the individual selections are not as intimately related

as they were designed to be in this collection. Thank you, Cindy, for

making this such a rewarding literary threesome.

Barb Kiwak and Sheri deserve kudos for the outstanding

artwork, frontispiece and cover, respectively.

And lastly and most especially, to the readers, thanks for joining

us in Vegas, and no matter what your pleasure, I hope you have as

much enjoyment in the reading as we did in the writing.

— Radcly f fe, January 2008

Karin Kallmaker’s Acknowledgments

If you really enjoy something, I recommend doing it at least

twice, especially if it involves partnering up with someone whose

love of the results matches your own.

Working with Radclyffe is like fi nding the perfect partner

for tennis—one challenging enough to get you out of your own

zone, leading to the mutual goal of a fantastic volley based on

complementary strengths. For this anthology, she lobbed balls over

the net and waited patiently to see if I could return service. When I

did, ooo, baby, did we have fun!

Having collaborated before on In Deep Waters 1, we spent less

time making sure we were in sync and more time just plain playing.

I hope readers are as amused and excited as I am by the results.

Any resemblance of our characters to persons living are purely

coincidental. Let’s just say that I suspected Radclyffe of having a

twisted and inspired sense of humor, and I wasn’t wrong.

Speaking of characters, several of mine from previous works

make an appearance in this volume. With a librarian’s convention in

town, “Twenty-One” of course makes Marian and Liddy from One

Degree of Separation a natural choice. Brandy and Tess of “Lucky

7” fi rst appeared in All the Wrong Places. “Lucky 7” continues the

storyline from “Cruising Solo” in the fi rst In Deep Waters. Author

Carolyn and her agent Alison, from Paperback Romance, are

attending the romance writer’s convention, reaping the rewards of

fi fteen years’ pride in “Payout.”

Though I want to say that such stories, and the few other

affectionate jokes in this volume, are all for the readers, honesty

demands that I admit that I love revisiting my old friends. I truly

hope that readers enjoy the results as much as I do.

Gambling is often compared to the risks of love and

relationships. I’m not sure why, since inherently gambling means

someone loses and someone wins, and the odds are always lopsided.

So while we play with the metaphor, it is fl awed. In practice, writing

with Radclyffe about gambling, love, and sex defi es the metaphor

completely, because everyone comes out a winner.

— Karin, January 2008

CONTENTS

FOLLOWING SUIT 13

Radcly f fe

FULL HOUSE 23

Radcly f fe

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS… 33

Karin Kallmaker

SNAKE EYES 53

Karin Kallmaker

LET IT RIDE 63

Radcly f fe

THREE OF A KIND 73

Karin Kallmaker

LUCKY 7

95

Karin Kallmaker

TOP-BOTTOM TICKET 107

Karin Kallmaker

SWITCH HANDS 119

Radcly f fe

DEALER’S CHOICE 129

Radcly f fe

TWENTY-ONE 139

Karin Kallmaker

NO LIMIT 149

Radcly f fe

HARD TEN 159

Radcly f fe

DOUBLE DOWN 171

Radcly f fe

UPPING THE ANTE 181

Karin Kallmaker

INSURANCE 191

Karin Kallmaker

ON THE HOUSE 201

Radcly f fe

BETTING BLIND 213

Radcly f fe

ALL IN 225

Radcly f fe

PAYOUT 237

Karin Kallmaker

SOLITAIRE 243

Karin Kallmaker

LUCK ON THE RIVER 249

Radcly f fe

WINNING HAND 259

Karin Kallmaker

…DOESN’T STAY IN VEGAS 265

Karin Kallmaker

In Deep Waters 2

FOLLOWING SUIT

Radcly f fe

The instant I stepped inside the Palace Casino, I saw

her holding court with a hundred avid readers right

in the middle of the grand lobby. Heads were going

to roll in publicity as soon as I got to a phone. I only agreed

to attend this conference because the VP of Marketing assured

me, on his life—and more importantly, his annual bonus—I

wouldn’t have to breathe the same air as her. And here we were

arriving at exactly the same time. Wonderful bit of planning.

“Welcome to the Palace, Ms. Wainwright,” a handsome

young man looking somewhat ridiculous in his red uniform

with gold tasseled epaulets and shiny buttons announced as I

quickly composed my face into what I knew was a cover-shot

worthy smile. “Let me assist you to reception. The bellman

will take your luggage directly to your suite.”

“Thank you.” I avoided his offered arm while I watched

Byrne Ambrose sign autographs and pose for photos and

• 13 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

generally charm the pants off her audience. A smiling,

gushing, absolutely thrilled group of devoted readers, all of

whom just happened to have been my readers fi rst. It didn’t

help that in addition to being charming, Byrne was a walking

heart palpitation. Tall, slender, and dark-haired with pale skin

and piercing dark eyes. A full, sensuous lower lip and a mouth

made for kissing. Not that I was ever one to underestimate

my own powers of allure, I nevertheless knew that my blond

hair and blue eyes gave me a somewhat girl next door appeal.

A critic had once compared our writing to our physical

appearances. Her observation that my romances glowed with

sweet sensuality while Byrne’s simmered with dark eroticism

somehow managed to intimate that I was unadventurous in

bed while Byrne set the sheets afi re. Foolish to think that the

surface refl ects the depths of anything, and even more foolish

of me to be bothered by a stranger’s assessment. Probably if

she hadn’t been comparing me to Byrne…

I heard the click and whir of a camera nearby and realized

I was staring at the object of my supreme annoyance. Adjusting

my smile, I did the only thing I could. I walked directly across

the lobby to Byrne.

“How good to see you again, Byrne,” I said, holding out

my hand.

Byrne looked up slowly from the book she had been signing,

her eyes even darker than I remembered. For an instant I saw

a spark of surprise, or perhaps pleasure, before her handsome

features settled into a practiced, gracious expression. She took

my hand, and in true Byrne Ambrose fashion, raised it to her

lips. More cameras fl ashed and whirred.

“Amelia. Always a pleasure.”

“Isn’t it just.” Her voice, rich and smooth as dark

chocolate, rippled through me, and I forced myself not to react

to the undeniable wisps of pleasure stirred by the soft glide of

• 14 •

In Deep Waters 2

her mouth on my skin. I swear some of the women standing

nearby almost swooned. Carefully, I withdrew my hand. “I

understood you were touring in England. How fortunate you

could make it for the conference.”

“When I heard you’d be here, how could I not?”

Easily, I thought, trying not to grind my teeth. You could

have stayed in Europe so that for once, we didn’t have to share

headliner status. Not only was I ten years older, I’d been writing

almost twenty years longer than she had when she burst onto

the scene two years earlier with her unique and, unfortunately,

very skillful blend of simmering sex combined with soaring

romantic passion. She was very good, and I wasn’t too small

to admit that. Nevertheless, being constantly compared to her

as if only one of us was really capable of writing powerful

romance wore on my nerves. And worse, every time I saw her,

I was more drawn to her.

“You’re absolutely right,” I said lightly. “What fun would

it be without the two of us here?”

“No fun at all.”

Though her tone was surprisingly serious, I saw sardonic

amusement dance across her damnably handsome face before

I moved a few feet away to sign some autographs of my own.

Even as I tended to business, I could hear her laughter in the

background, and every note shimmered through me as if she

were breathing her pleasure into my ear.

After thirty minutes of chatting up the crowd, I pleaded

travel fatigue and escaped to my suite. I was tired. I’d just

fi nished my latest novel barely on deadline before packing

and fl ying all day to get here for the opening of the National

Romance Writers conference in the morning. As soon as I

closed the door behind me, I kicked off my heels and stripped

out of my traveling ensemble on the way to the bathroom.

A long, hot shower eased some of the aches and weariness,

• 15 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

and by the time I’d fi nished, I was hungry. I unpacked my

silk robe, because I never cared much for the terrycloth ones

provided even in the best of hotels, and went to investigate

the welcome tray of hors d’oeuvres sitting in the center of the

coffee table in the lounge area of the suite. I don’t know how

I missed the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket by the sofa

when I came in, either. That was certainly a nice amenity. The

complementary appetizers included an assortment of fresh

fruit, cheese, crackers, and even a generous serving of caviar

in an iced crystal goblet. Hmm, a very nice welcoming gift.

Idly, I lifted the card and for some reason read it, even though

I knew the bounty had been left as a courtesy by the hotel.

Of course, I was wrong.

Amelia, I’m so happy you’re here. I hope we have a

moment to compare notes on romance. Byrne

I hated the little skip in my heart when I saw her name.

She had beautiful handwriting too, very much like her. Bold

and dashing. Oh, it was so hard not to like her. I even liked

her books, damn her. With a sigh, I removed the gold foil

from around the mouth of the champagne bottle. Before I

had a chance to remove the wire basket securing the cork,

the doorbell rang. I set the champagne on the coffee table and

went to answer. Expecting housekeeping, I peered through the

security lens. Wrong again.

“Byrne?” I released the latch and opened the door before

I remembered I was barefoot and braless and wearing a short

silk robe. Since Byrne’s eyebrows rose infi nitesimally as her

glance swept over me, I knew it was already too late. She’d

taken in the whole of me, which meant she also noticed my

unabashedly erect nipples.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Byrne said in that bedroom

voice, “but these conferences are always so hectic and we

so very rarely have a chance to talk.” She smiled somewhat

• 16 •

In Deep Waters 2

apologetically. “But I see this is a bad time. Perhaps we

could—”

“No,” I said quickly, opening the door wider and surprising

us both. “Come in. Please. I was just about to break out the

lovely champagne you sent. Won’t you join me?”

“How can I refuse?” Byrne sat beside me on the pale

green damask sofa and reached for the champagne. “Shall I

fi nish opening it?”

“Yes, please.” I turned slightly to face her and curled my

legs beneath me, very aware that I was nearly naked next to a

very sexy woman. Whom I loathed. Byrne had changed into

slacks and an open collar dark blue linen shirt, and she looked

carelessly delicious. “Crackers?”

“I’m sorry?” Byrne handed me a fl ute of champagne.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, fl ustered for no reason that I

could imagine.

Byrne glanced at the very eye-catching tray, then back at

me. “Does craving your company count?”

“That’s an excellent line,” I said, hoping to hide my

ridiculous thrill of pleasure. Clearly, she had some agenda that

would soon become clear.

“It’s the truth.” Byrne sipped her champagne and allowed

me to look into her eyes, eyes that were completely devoid of

any subterfuge. “I’ve always been a huge fan of your work,

and I’ve never had a chance to tell you that.”

I made a demurring noise and chided myself for being

fl attered.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve been coming to your readings and

panel sessions for years, but of course, you never noticed me.

Why would you, with so many readers clamoring for your

attention?”

Oh, I would have noticed you in the audience. There aren’t

very many women who stop my heart just at the sight of them.

• 17 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“And then,” Byrne went on, “when my books came out,

everything happened so fast, I’ve never had a chance to really

talk to you.”

“That happens when you’re an overnight sensation.” I

discovered my champagne glass was empty and put it down.

Byrne fi nished hers and set her glass aside. She leaned

closer, her voice dropping lower. “No one will ever write

about love and passion the way you do. Your work always

excites me.”

I felt myself fl ush and was helpless to stop it. “One of us

should get pen and paper and write this down before we lose a

perfectly good seduction scene.”

“Is that what this is?”

Embarrassed that I had revealed the attraction I had been

denying for months, I tried to laugh it off. “Tell me you haven’t

noticed this setting is perfect for…”

Byrne leaned close. “This?”

And she kissed me.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I registered that

the kiss was not in the least bit diffi dent or uncertain, but

neither was it arrogant. It was simply a kiss, a wonderful kiss,

bestowed by a woman who clearly wanted to kiss me, if the

deep murmur of pleasure accompanying the glide of her warm

mouth over mine was any indication. Byrne Ambrose, my

hated rival…well, of course, not hated…more like annoying

rival, wanted to kiss me? And God, could she kiss. She cupped

my face in her soft, warm palm and thoroughly explored my

mouth with a gentle but insistent tongue. I could feel her body

hovering just millimeters away from mine, but she didn’t push

for more contact. Instead, she allowed my breasts, suddenly

tense with the surge of arousal rushing through me, to lift and

brush against her chest. That whisper of contact sent a sliver of

excitement piercing through the core of me.

• 18 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Oh my God, you can defi nitely practice what you preach,”

I gasped, pulling back, trying to get my bearings. What was she

doing? For one horrifying second I contemplated this could be

some kind of publicity stunt, but unless a winged photographer

was hovering twenty stories above ground like a giant Tinker

Bell, there was no way anyone could see us. “What…”

“Do you know,” Byrne said breathlessly. Breathlessly? “I

really love your love scenes.”

As she spoke, she skimmed her fi ngers up and down my

arms, inside the silk robe. My skin fl amed as if I’d been out

in the sun for hours, and to my amazement, I found myself

unbuttoning her shirt, my fi ngers fl ying with a will of their

own. “I don’t care if you hate my books,” I whispered, “if you

kiss me like that again.”

And she did. Only this time, she eased me back on the

sofa and pulled the sash on my robe, exposing me. She leaned

halfway against me, her hip turned sideways between my legs,

her upper body supported with one arm along the back of the

sofa. She kissed me until my head was spinning, even though I

was lying down. I pushed inside her shirt and discovered skin,

only skin. Smooth, slightly damp, hot skin. She groaned as I

held her small breasts in my hands, rolling her fi rm nipples

under the pads of my thumbs. I thought of the love scenes she

had written, committing them to memory while telling myself

I simply needed to know what the competition was offering.

But her words revealed her passion so bravely for all to see, I

couldn’t forget the images she created. Her words had taught

me what she needed, what she sought, what she hoped for from

a moment like this, and I gently pushed her away. When she

drew back, uncertain, I softened my apparent rejection with a

brief caress to her cheek.

“Come to bed, Byrne.”

She nodded, her eyes glimmering, her pale pale skin

• 19 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

fl ushed with desire. I pushed the shirt down her shoulders and

she left it behind on the sofa. As we crossed into the bedroom,

she unbuckled her belt and unzipped her slacks, shedding them

by the bedside while I dropped my robe on a chair. When we

came together beneath the cool, pristine sheets, we were both

naked. When she would have moved above me, I shook my

head and pressed my palms to her shoulders.

“Lie back,” I murmured as I knelt between her thighs.

For a second I thought she might refuse, because I could tell it

wasn’t what she expected. I caressed her thighs and kissed the

base of her stomach. “Please. I know you want this. So do I.”

With a quiet groan, she relaxed beneath me. “I think about

you…sometimes…when I’m writing.”

“Think about me now. How much I want you.”

I gently touched my tongue to her clitoris. She was hard.

Her legs clenched and she pulsed against my lips. I love the

taste of a woman, sultry and rich. A pleasure so poignant, yet so

fl eeting, I always want to linger. As I took her slowly, learning

all her tender places, she writhed beneath me, her breath

growing shorter and more labored. She didn’t ask for what she

so clearly needed, and I adored her for her unselfi shness. Only

a woman would sacrifi ce her own pleasure for that of another.

I kissed her where her heart beat beneath my lips and pulled

her into the heat of my mouth, sucking as she grew to fi ll me.

“I’m going to come,” she whispered, a warning and a

question. Her fi ngers trembled in my hair.

I reached up and placed my palm over her heart where

it pounded beneath her sleek body. I felt her orgasm tremble

through her limbs, hammering inside her chest, beating inside

my mouth. She was beauty, she was grace, she was every

perfect word I had ever hoped to write.

She cried out softly as she came, and when her cries had

died away, I kissed her one last time before stretching out

• 20 •

In Deep Waters 2

beside her. Her eyes were soft, her smile satisfi ed. Wordlessly,

she dipped her head and took my breast into her mouth. I wasn’t

as unselfi sh as she. I urged her to hurry, to take me, to make me

come. She wrote her desire for me on my body, with the bold

strokes of her hands and her lips and her tongue. When she slid

her fi ngers inside me, I closed around her with the fi erceness of

possession, wanting to own the passion she exposed so freely

in the pages of her books. I had always known her power, now

I felt it. Her knuckles, round and strong, stretched me, opened

me, and I welcomed her.

“More,” I asked, uncertain my words had enough strength

to reach her. But she heard. I didn’t feel her turn her hand, I

didn’t feel her mold her fl esh to my fl esh, but I felt her in the

core of me, strong and hot and reverent. She held still and let

me move around her, rocking infi nitesimally on her smooth,

hot fi st. I reached blindly for her other hand and when I found

it, pressed her fi ngers to my clitoris.

When she caressed me, the swell of heat wrenched a cry

from my throat and she murmured soothingly as I came around

her, over her, for her.

“Oh my God.” I opened my eyes to fi nd her watching

me, although I hadn’t felt her leave me. Her expression was

slightly worried and I smiled. “I’m fi ne. Wonderful. Beyond

wonderful.”

Her stark beauty dissolved into a youthful tenderness, and

the pleasure she didn’t bother to hide stirred me anew. “Again,”

I whispered, and she stroked me until I came in her arms.

The room had grown dark, but I could see her features by

the light fi ltered through the gauzy drapes as she lay on her

back, looking contemplative and content.

“What are you thinking?”

She turned her head and smiled at me. “Of a love scene I

want to write.”

• 21 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Do I know the characters?”

“In a way.” She kissed me. “It’s a story about how love

inspires us. Allows us to do more, be more, than we ever

thought we could.” She propped herself up on her elbow and

regarded me seriously. “You are responsible for whatever

success I have.”

“Well, now, that’s a hell of a thing to say,” I complained.

“How am I supposed to be jealous of you now?”

Byrne glided on top of me, her slick, hot thigh meeting

my slick, hot center. “You have no reason to be jealous. You’re

beautiful, accomplished, and sexy as hell. Me, I’ll be happy to

follow wherever you lead.”

“Even when I’m in the mood to follow you?”

“Especially then.”

Byrne slid into me again, and true to my word, I followed

suit.

• 22 •

In Deep Waters 2

FULL HOUSE

Radcly f fe

Don’t touch me, I mean it. I think I’m going to

explode.” Liz Ramsey dropped the suitcase she had

insisted on carrying, despite her lover’s protests, just

inside the door of their suite. “My God, what is it out there? A

hundred and thirty degrees in the shade?” She kicked off her

sandals, one of which fl ew across the room and landed on the

coffee table, and pushed damp strands of coppery-brown hair

out of her face. “Oh, pardon me. I forgot. There is no shade

in this entire state.” She rounded on Reilly. “Whose idea was

this?”

“I’m sure it was mine,” Reilly Danvers said instantly.

“And it was really stupid of me. Absolutely dumb idea.”

“Don’t be nice when I’m being unreasonable. It pisses me

off.” Liz glared at her lover of only a few months. Here she

was a rumpled mess, and Reilly looked comfortable and cool

in a light blue T-shirt, faded denim jeans, and loafers without

socks. Her dark hair was windblown, her gray eyes worried,

• 23 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

and she still managed to look sexy. I love you. God, I love you.

And I hope I haven’t made the biggest mistake of my life.

Reilly piled the rest of the luggage on the fl oor. “Why don’t

you lie down for a few minutes, and I’ll get you something

cold to drink. How about iced tea?”

“I don’t want to lie down. I don’t want iced tea. I want…”

Liz looked down at herself and realized she couldn’t see the

tops of her navy linen shorts because her pregnant abdomen

was in the way. It was bad enough that her breasts were larger

than they’d ever been, but now she had a bowling ball where

her waist used to be. “This is supposed to be our honeymoon,

and I’m hot and my feet are swollen, and you don’t even want

to have sex with me.”

“Excuse me?” Reilly’s voice climbed an octave and her

eyebrows followed. “Of course I want to have sex with you. I

always want to have sex with you. I love having sex with you.

I love you.”

“We haven’t had sex in a week, and now I’m even bigger

than I was before. I don’t blame you for not wanting to have

sex with me.” Liz turned her back. Her voice shook. “I knew

this was going to happen. We should have waited until after

the baby was born to even try to have a relationship. What was

I thinking? Talk about the shortest honeymoon in history.”

“Baby.” Reilly tiptoed up behind Liz and carefully placed

her hands on Liz’s shoulders. She kissed the back of her neck.

“I couldn’t have waited one more day, one more minute, to

be with you. There’s no way I could’ve waited six months.”

She guided Liz around to face her. “I think you’re the most

beautiful, sexiest woman in the world.”

“Then why don’t we have sex anymore?”

“I think it’s been fi ve days,” Reilly said cautiously, running

her hands up and down Liz’s arms. “And two of those nights I

was on call and last night we took the red-eye.”

• 24 •

In Deep Waters 2

Liz brushed impatiently at the moisture on her cheeks.

“What about the other two nights?”

Reilly grinned. “We were watching Frodo destroy Saruman

and save Middle Earth.”

“We’re not watching epic movies ever again,” Liz said.

“At least not until after we have sex.”

“Absolutely.” Reilly swept her arm around Liz’s waist

and guided her toward the bed. “Why don’t you take a nap

and later we’ll order room service and watch…later we’ll have

screaming monkey sex.”

Liz narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not having

second thoughts about marrying me?”

“I have a million thoughts about it every day. All of them

happy.” Reilly drew down the covers on the bed and kicked off

her loafers. Then she pulled her T-shirt over her head, tossed it

on a nearby chair, and unzipped and stepped out of her jeans.

Naked, she sat on the side of the bed and held out her arms.

“Come here and let me undress you.” When Liz shuffl ed a

little closer, Reilly unbuttoned her blouse and then her shorts.

Resting one hand on Liz’s hip to steady her, she pushed Liz’s

shorts and panties down. “Step out of these, baby.”

“You don’t have to pretend you want sex, just because I

said—”

“You’re tired. You’ve been working overtime for the last

month just to get your caseload free enough for us to take

this time off. We’ve been up half the night.” Reilly slipped

Liz’s blouse off and placed both hands over the perfect mound

of Liz’s lower abdomen. As she leaned forward to kiss the

smooth, pale skin, she whispered, “Take off the rest.”

“I love when you touch me like this.” Liz stroked Reilly’s

hair while Reilly, her eyes closed, rubbed her cheek gently

against Liz’s belly. Liz couldn’t believe how much it excited

her to watch Reilly do that. It was something she never would

• 25 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

have thought erotic, and yet seeing the pleasure on Reilly’s

face, the contentment, made her quicken with an almost painful

rush of heat deep inside. “I love you.”

Reilly tilted her face up, her smile enough to banish all

Liz’s fears. “Even if it was my stupid idea to come to Las

Vegas now?”

“I was the one who wanted to be here when Bren got her

book award,” Liz reminded her. “I probably shouldn’t have

dragged you out here. Especially when I’m fat and bitchy.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere. She’s your best friend,

and I wanted to be here, too.” Reilly swung her legs onto

the bed and patted the space beside her. “And I was the one

who suggested we take some extra time to make the trip a

honeymoon. Plus, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant.”

Liz climbed into bed and fussed with the pillows behind

her back until she could fi nd a half-comfortable position. “I

notice you didn’t say I wasn’t bitchy.”

“I wouldn’t call it bitchy.”

Liz ran her fi ngers through Reilly’s hair, then cupped the

back of her neck and kissed her. “What would you call it?”

“Excitable.” Reilly nuzzled Liz’s breast before lightly

kissing her nipple.

“Mmm. I do seem to be that.” She’d never been easily

aroused or particularly quick to orgasm, but around Reilly, she

was both. It wasn’t just the newness of the relationship, either.

Reilly made her happier than she’d ever imagined possible.

Reilly fi lled her life with promise, and whenever she thought

of her, love and passion and desire were so inextricably bound

that her body could barely contain the emotion. She wanted

her. Endlessly.

Reilly stroked Liz’s belly then claimed her mouth again.

Liz murmured deep in her throat, loving Reilly’s slow, easy

kisses. Those kisses were deceptively simple, so soft and

• 26 •

In Deep Waters 2

languid that Liz was always lulled by the sheer pleasure of

Reilly’s tongue playing over the sensitive inner surfaces of

her lips and teasing just inside her mouth. Just when she felt

herself fl oating, drifting in a warm, sensual haze, she would

realize she was completely aroused and often very close to

coming.

“I’m not feeling so bitchy now.” Liz dragged her nails

unhurriedly up and down Reilly’s back. “You’re getting me

excited.”

Reilly drew one leg over Liz’s thigh, her breath coming

fast. “Really? And we’re supposed to be taking a nap.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“Sometimes you do sleep better after an orgasm.” Reilly

glided her fi ngers down the slope of Liz’s belly and caressed

between her legs. “Ah, God, baby, you’re so wet already.”

“Your kisses.” Liz turned her face to Reilly’s neck,

desperate for Reilly to touch her, to stroke the spot that always

made her come. She wanted to come, but not so fast. Catching

Reilly’s hand, she lifted it back to her breast. She kissed

Reilly’s neck, then drew away to look at her. She loved to see

the wanting that Reilly never tried to hide. Reilly never hid

anything from her. Not her love, not her desire, not her need.

“Your kisses always make me ready.”

“Remember the fi rst time?” Reilly cupped Liz’s breast in

her palm, squeezing gently while she rubbed the ball of her

thumb over Liz’s nipple.

Liz could only nod, her breath too short for her to speak.

“I love when you come while we’re kissing. I love the

way you steal my breath, the way you make those little sounds

against my mouth.” Reilly went back to kissing her, and when

she did, she slid her tongue into Liz’s mouth and her fi ngers

between her legs.

Liz cried out, the sound muffl ed against Reilly’s lips. She

• 27 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

sucked on Reilly’s tongue and tried to keep her eyes open as

Reilly pressed against the base of her clitoris and then a little

lower, feathering through her wetness. Reilly’s eyes were dark

vortices, swirling with desire and demand. Liz poured herself

into those eyes as she spilled over the exquisite fi ngers carrying

her to her climax.

“So,” Reilly murmured when Liz cradled her head against

her shoulder and made little whimpering sounds of pleasure,

“still think I don’t want to have sex with you?”

“I know you only did it so I’d be quiet and go to sleep.”

Reilly laughed and stretched, satisfi ed with herself,

amazingly content. “Yep. That’s the reason. It doesn’t have

anything to do with the fact that my heart just about stops

every time you come because you’re so damn beautiful.”

“You’re really happy?”

“Beyond. What are you worried about?”

Liz traced circles with her fi ngertips in the middle of

Reilly’s stomach. “Our relationship is kind of on fast-forward,

and I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing anything.”

Reilly turned on her side and propped her head in her

hand, studying Liz’s face. “What could I be missing?”

“Well, the fact that I was pregnant when we met…” Liz

sighed. “I never asked if it bothered you that you weren’t there.

At the beginning.”

“I saw the fi rst ultrasound almost as soon as you had it

done,” Reilly said. “I’m watching the baby grow inside you

every day. I can feel her move when I hold you during the

night.” Reilly stroked Liz’s cheek. “If we’d met after the baby

was born, hell, when she was two years old, it wouldn’t have

made any difference. I would have loved her and you just the

same.”

Liz caressed the curve of Reilly’s fl ank, then over the rise

of her hip and down her muscled thigh. When she couldn’t

• 28 •

In Deep Waters 2

reach the tender, hot delta nestled between her legs, she tried

to shift onto her side and was reminded just how much her

body had changed. “I feel incredibly lucky that you’re okay

about having an instant family, but I hate that I can’t even

make love to you the way I want to.”

Reilly frowned. “I’m completely and totally satisfi ed.”

“Well, I’m not,” Liz said with some heat. “You might be

feeling all king of the jungle, seeing as how you only have to

look at me to make me come, but I happen to have a few alpha

urges of my own, you know.”

“Alpha?” Reilly tried unsuccessfully to smother a smile.

“Are you trying to tell me you want to throw me down and

fuck my brains out?”

“And if I did?”

“I’d say go for it,” Reilly said, her voice suddenly husky.

“You want me, you got me. Anyway you want it.”

“And that’s just the problem,” Liz grumped. “I can’t lie on

my stomach very comfortably any longer.”

Reilly’s brows drew down and then her grin widened.

“Ah, you don’t want to fuck my brains out, literally. You want

to—” She ran her thumb over Liz’s lower lip and shivered

when Liz licked it.

“Yes. I want you right here…” Liz circled the end of

Reilly’s thumb. “On the tip of my tongue.”

“Jesus, baby,” Reilly groaned. “Kill me, why don’t you?”

“That was so not my plan.” Liz sighed. “God, I really

want you.”

“Settle back and get comfortable.” Reilly straddled Liz’s

body, kneeling close to her shoulders. She caressed Liz’s face

and slipped her thumb into Liz’s mouth. Liz’s hands roamed

over Reilly’s thighs as she sucked and nibbled on her thumb.

Reilly’s vision hazed and the muscles on the inside of her legs

fl uttered and jumped. “Your mouth is so hot.”

• 29 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Liz released Reilly’s thumb and smiled up at her, skimming

her fi ngers between Reilly’s legs. Her hand came away wet. “I

thought you were completely and totally satisfi ed.”

“That was fi ve minutes ago. That was before I thought

about your lips and how good they feel closing around me.

How sweet it is when you suck me.”

Liz dug her fi ngers into the hard muscles of Reilly’s ass

and dragged Reilly down against her mouth. Reilly was hard

there, too, and Liz loved knowing she had done this. She had

made this woman, her woman, hard for her, wet for her, and

soon, she would make her come for her.

Reilly pushed her fi ngers into Liz’s hair and braced her

other arm against the wall, supporting herself so she could

look down into Liz’s eyes while Liz did the things to her that

always made her come. The push and pull of Liz’s mouth

merged with the ebb and fl ow of the blood in her veins, until

pleasure surged and she climbed for the edge.

“I’m coming,” Reilly whispered, and Liz relaxed the

pressure, letting her slide down from the peak just a little.

Reilly took a shaky breath. “You want me to wait?”

“I want you out on the edge.”

“I don’t know if I can today. Jesus, I almost came just

then.”

Liz smiled against Reilly’s heated fl esh. “I know.” She

moved one hand to Reilly’s chest and smoothed her fi ngers

back and forth over Reilly’s breasts. “Let’s climb again.”

Reilly’s stomach tightened as Liz’s lips closed around her.

The ache to let go was overpowering. This time it seemed only

seconds before she was almost there. “I’m going to come.”

Again, Liz relaxed, and Reilly mumbled an incoherent

plea. “Shh, I know. I know you want to come. You’re so hard

right now. I love the way you feel in my mouth.” She stroked

Reilly’s tense stomach and then her thighs. Everywhere she

• 30 •

In Deep Waters 2

touched, Reilly quivered. “Okay? Can you hold yourself up?”

Wordlessly, Reilly nodded. “I’m okay. I can go again.”

“We’ll see.” Liz used her teeth this time, and as soon as

she sucked, Reilly threw her head back and released a strangled

cry. Liz relented just a little, licking the spot she had grazed

with her teeth. Reilly jumped and her fi ngers spasmed in Liz’s

hair. “Good?”

“I have to come,” Reilly gasped.

“Sure? One more time?”

“I’ll try.”

Liz felt Reilly’s orgasm throbbing for release between

her lips. She fondled her carefully, circling and stroking,

keeping the pressure light, as Reilly rocked against her mouth.

She loved taking her almost over the edge, time after time,

thrilling to the anticipation of that instant when Reilly fi nally

surrendered to pleasure. Right now, Reilly needed desperately

to come and she was holding back for Liz, and Liz loved her

for it. She tightened her grip on Reilly’s ass and curled her

other hand between them, sliding inside her.

“You’ll make me come!” Reilly warned, pushing deeper

into Liz’s mouth.

Liz was already making Reilly come. She felt Reilly’s

muscles clamp around her fi ngers, felt her swell between her

lips, felt her whole body tense.

“Oh God, oh yeah.” Reilly’s head fell forward against the

wall but she kept her weight off Liz’s body. “I’m coming this

time.”

Liz kissed and stroked and soothed her until Reilly

regained enough strength in her legs to push herself over onto

the bed. Liz awkwardly turned onto her side and kissed her.

“See what I mean about alpha urges?”

Still gasping for breath, Reilly grinned. “Are you like this

when you’re not pregnant?”

• 31 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I don’t know. I never was before, but then,” Liz drew a

fi nger along the edge of Reilly’s jaw and down the center of

her throat, “I wasn’t with you before, either.”

“Maybe we should just keep you pregnant all the time,

just in case,” Reilly suggested.

“Honey,” Liz said, laughing, “as much as I’m looking

forward to our new family, I think one will do me for quite a

while.” She kissed Reilly. “But if you keep looking at me the

way you are right now, you don’t have to worry. Because I’m

back to that wanting to fuck your brains out thing again.”

“Then we’re going to be very busy for a long, long

time.”

• 32 •

In Deep Waters 2

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS…

Karin Kallmaker

Why are we here?” Marcie pushed her wild brown

hair out of her eyes and squinted in the hot wind

that blasted across the hotel parking lot. “What on

earth possessed Nirvana and Sunshine to pick Las Vegas as the

raffl e prize? It’s…it’s…”

Keri counted the pieces of their luggage as the bags were

transferred out of the limousine into the care of the bellhop.

“It sold a lot of raffl e tickets. You said it was twice last year’s

sales.”

“It did sell a lot of tickets, and I guess I never thought I’d

win. But now that I’m here, it’s so…so…”

Keri glanced up to watch Marcie’s expressive shrug. “It’s

so unreal?”

“That’s a start.” Marcie turned her china blue gaze to Keri.

“It’s all fake, all for show.”

“And we get to spend fi ve days and four nights as a part

of the show.” Keri pulled Marcie along the curved entrance

• 33 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

driveway until they reached the blissfully chilled lobby. “Thank

you again for inviting me. I know some of your friends might

have expected you to ask them, especially the ones who aren’t

too sure about you dating me to begin with.”

Marcie relaxed once they were enveloped by the air

conditioning. With a pleasing glint in her evocative eyes, she

said, “You’re way more fun than they are. Especially late at

night.”

Keri grinned and ducked her head. “I really try to make

that true.”

“Will you look at this place? Incredible.” Marcie looked up

at the massive atrium’s ceiling. “It’s like the Sistine Chapel.”

Opulent didn’t even begin to describe the Palace Hotel.

Everywhere Keri looked there were rippling fountains or

banks of exotic plants, lushly velvet cushions and elegantly

dressed women ensconced on them. It felt like an oasis after

the dry desert air.

Marcie had her denim jacket—necessary when they had

left Syracuse that morning—draped over one shoulder. She

gave an approving look to the row of orchids, but the gaze

she turned to Keri was troubled. “This is a desert, and people

all over the world are dying for water. Did you see those

fountains?”

“I saw them.” Keri shrugged. After almost forty years of

not giving a stale doughnut about other people, she’d gotten

sober and realized her every thought and need was not the

center of the cosmos. “I saw the endless building projects, and

I know there already isn’t enough water for the people who

live here, let alone the new construction. You know how it

goes—somebody really rich is going to have to lose a lot of

money before anything changes.” Keri tucked Marcie’s hair

behind her ear and was rewarded with a tiny shiver that zinged

• 34 •

In Deep Waters 2

through her fi ngertips. “Meanwhile, this is the fi rst time we’ve

gone away together. So I suggest…”

Marcie smiled into Keri’s kiss. “I quite agree.”

A smiling woman in hotel livery bore down on them.

“Welcome to the Palace, ladies! I’m Harmony, and I’m the

VIP coordinator this evening. I’ve just been informed you’re

the winners of one of our Getaway Fundraising vacations.

Congratulations—you are in for a wonderful stay.”

They were invited to “step right this way,” and Keri

smothered a laugh when Marcie did her best to imitate

Harmony’s sassy walk. Keri had a decidedly unpolitically

correct moment imagining Marcie in the high heels that

Harmony was wearing.

There had been a time—before dumping the fl eshpots

and booze of Manhattan for the ivory towers and sobriety of

Syracuse—that Keri wouldn’t have been seen with a woman

who wasn’t a high femme, including stilettos. There’d been

a time when unfailingly practical, comfortably beautiful

women like Marcie hadn’t registered on her radar. She’d

liked young and aggressive, but now maturity and selfknowledge were turning her on like nothing ever had before.

Sobriety had given her new eyes that saw deeper, and the

world around her had blossomed into subtle colors of endless

variety. Tech support in a college town paid far less than it did

in Manhattan, but the other plusses were as good as money in

the bank to her.

She’d already liked the pace of upstate New York when

she’d volunteered to work in the collective grocery store.

From the moment she’d met Marcie she’d been captivated by

the steady, unwavering take-me-as-I-am manner. Marcie knew

who she was, knew why she was here, knew why she laughed,

why she cried. Keri was no fool—volunteering for several of

• 35 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Marcie’s other causes had led to their dating, which had led

them here, to Las Vegas.

Keri didn’t want Marcie to change one single thing

about her, so her sudden fantasy of Marcie in high heels was

confusing. Maybe it was just old habits. After all, on the ride

from the airport alone, they had passed dozens of images of

buxom, mostly naked, long-legged women-as-eye-candy

billboards. She couldn’t deny it: part of her had responded

with, “Oh, baby.”

She couldn’t pull that attitude with a woman like Marcie.

Marcie was nobody’s baby. But she surely did know how to

move her hips. For a forty-something woman she was dead

sexy, stilettos or not, and her sensuality was another thing

Keri really liked about her. Used to be a tab of X and tequila

shooters had been the only way to get turned on, but now she

knew the miracle of a long bubble bath, slow touches, and lots

and lots of kissing.

Harmony was showing various points on the map to

Marcie. “Your vacation includes a salt massage at our spa for

each of you. The spa is located here—” She tapped the map.

“Just call to make a reservation. A romantic dinner for two

has been planned for this evening, with a reservation already

made for eight p.m. at Imperial, which overlooks the lake and

fountains from the south.”

Marcie was better at remembering details, and Keri let

her attention wander to the rest of the grand lobby. She had

expected the discordant clanging of slot machines and the

stifl ing stench of cigarettes, but only at the far end could she

see the beginnings of a casino. Instead, the lobby seemed

designed as an informal, well-lit place to relax and socialize.

Three women in sensible shoes hauled heavy book bags off

the ground and onto their shoulders as if girding themselves

for more walking. Two had water bottles clipped to their belts,

• 36 •

In Deep Waters 2

prepared for all eventualities. They disappeared in the direction

of the conference center.

Several stunningly attired women entered from the

casino, waved a greeting to an equally elegant and curvaceous

female—in killer pumps—and the four of them turned toward

the shopping concourse carrying nothing more than cute little

handbags. Keri couldn’t help but watch after them.

As her gaze came back to the lobby, she spied a handwritten

board welcoming various conventions to the hotel. There were

surgeons, writers, poker players, and librarians. But it was

“Escort Services International” that caught her eye. The two

voluptuous brunettes with gorgeous full hairstyles and fl awless

makeup who lounged on one of the love seats as they chatted,

well, they were not librarians. They might be a baby dyke’s

wet dream about librarians, but that they were the escorts, and

the water bottle carriers the librarians, was far more likely.

If she were a good lesbian, she would attempt to explain

to the escorts that their profession was oppressive and they

needed to cast off the shackles of the patriarchy, but damn,

they looked hotter than hell.

You’re in Vegas, Keri reminded herself. You don’t have

to be a good lesbian here. She glanced over at Marcie, who

looked incredibly fuckable, too. Her gaze slid past to the two

brunettes. You could be a very bad lesbian in Vegas. Trouble

is, she told herself, going back to the far more pleasing picture

that Marcie made, you’re falling for a granola lesbian, and that

collection of toys you’ve got back home is going to go on

collecting cobwebs and dust.

Their room key cards clutched in her hand, Marcie led

the way to a bank of elevators. The bellhop, summoned by the

ever-cheerful Harmony, patiently followed along. They were

passed by a much faster moving couple—oo, Keri thought,

more dykes—with an equally swift bellhop. Their high-tech

• 37 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

suitcases and leather bags were fl awlessly matched. The

medium-build, shaggy-haired woman was holding hands with

a tall, caramel-skinned beauty in thigh-high boots and a short

dress cut down the front to heaven. Their quick walk suggested

they had an itch and were in a hurry to scratch it.

You’re obsessed with sex at the moment, Keri thought.

Fancy hotel, Marcie looking adorable—get her into the room

and get her naked. You’ll both feel better.

The power couple was long gone by the time a glass

elevator arrived to whisk them up to the twentieth fl oor.

“Honey! Look at that pool!” Marcie gazed down at the

lush, tropical grounds as they ascended. “Let’s grab our suits

and go for a swim.”

It looked like the perfect setting for a Roman revel. Keri

was starting to feel overwhelmed. She’d thought her one goal

was to get Marcie into a hotel room, alone, and start their

vacation off with a real bang. The pool looked…delicious.

There were scantily-clad women lounging on chaises and for

shame, for shame, Keri thought, she ought not be responding

that way to such rank and obvious objectifi cation. She thought

of Marcie in a swimsuit and her composure got even more

ragged.

“We have to be ready for dinner by eight.”

Marcie glanced at her watch. She sounded just like a little

kid when she pointed out, “That’s almost two hours.”

Keri gave her an indulgent smile. “Okay, honey. We’ll go

for a swim.” Later, Keri thought. Later, we’ll have all the time

in the world.

“You nearly burned yourself.” Keri kissed the outline of

Marcie’s swimsuit strap across her gleaming shoulder.

• 38 •

In Deep Waters 2

Marcie shook her wet hair. “It was such fun. Okay, I

swear out a truce with Las Vegas. While we’re here, I’ll stop

complaining about how unnatural it all is, and how wasteful

and—”

Keri kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Me, too. What

happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, isn’t that right? So nobody

has to know that we liked the pool and intend to try the other

four pools. Or if we decide to have veal for dinner.”

“I’m not going that far.” Marcie laughed and kissed Keri

back. “We won’t confess that your tongue was hanging out a

mile over those women at the pool.”

“It wasn’t a mile,” Keri protested.

Marcie leaned back against the counter, still smiling,

but her expression more serious. “Is that what you like? All

the hair extensions and surgical enhancements? Is that what

women were like in the big city?”

“I’m just looking. I do like to look at women.” She wasn’t

going to apologize for that. “But yeah, back in Manhattan,

I drifted toward that type. That’s all they were to me, too, a

type.” Keri trailed her fi ngertips lightly down Marcie’s tummy.

“I wasn’t capable of seeing more. I know what I’ve got, now.

And…I’m feeling things I haven’t before.”

“I’m glad you could come with me,” Marcie said softly.

“I know we’ve only been dating a short while, but…I like you.

Thank you for caring enough about yourself to get sober.”

Keri grinned. “I like being around you, too.”

“Good, because I think you’re stuck with me.”

“I think we’re going to be a little bit late to dinner,” Keri

said, then she gave in to the overwhelming urge to nibble

Marcie’s lovely, full lips.

They moved together for several minutes, sharing long,

deep kisses, but no more words. Keri didn’t know why Marcie,

as soon as they started fooling around, stopped talking. She

• 39 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

knew why she did—she was afraid some of the things she

wanted to say would appall Marcie. Marcie was no virgin and

no prude, but she was totally vanilla. She’d be shocked and

uncomfortable if Keri were to admit that right now she wished

in the worst way she were packing so she could push Marcie’s

legs apart and have her right here on the counter. That right

now, looking at the light in Marcie’s eyes and feeling the

heat of her skin, she didn’t want to make love, she wanted

to fuck. She wanted to do Marcie until her hair snarled, her

eyes glazed, her skin slicked with sweat, and they were both

drained beyond coherence.

If she started talking like that, she’d never stop. Marcie lit

a bone-deep fi re inside her, and she was worth learning some

patience. It was also true that since giving up booze she hadn’t

really been cat-scratch-fever with a woman. Given that seeing

the world through clear eyes and keener perceptions was at

times overwhelming, she could only imagine how intense hot,

wild sex would feel to her. It wasn’t something she wanted

to experience with just anyone. Marcie was not just anyone,

though. She trusted Marcie completely.

She slipped her hand between them, grinning at what she

felt on her fi ngertips. “Are you going to be soaked like this all

through dinner?”

“With any luck.” Marcie looked almost shy. “We’re going

to be late if we don’t start getting dressed.”

Reluctantly, Keri let Marcie go. Her own hair was drip

dry, but Marcie took more time because the wild curls were

always a challenge to tame. Keri went to get her best clothes

out of the suitcase. They only differed from the rest of her

clothes because the black jeans were new, sort of, and the shirt

was black silk.

She padded over the thick blue carpet, liking the way it

felt under her feet. It was soft enough to fuck on, but fl oors

• 40 •

In Deep Waters 2

didn’t have the appeal to her forty-year old body they once

did. She couldn’t wait to try the kingsized bed. She went back

to the bathroom to fi nd Marcie leaning forward to peer at her

face in the mirror. She wore only her bra and panties so far and

Keri couldn’t help herself. She ran an appreciative hand over

the curve of Marcie’s ass.

Marcie’s responsive shudder took Keri’s breath away.

Their gazes locked in the mirror and Keri slowly pressed her

fi ngers into the crotch of Marcie’s panties.

“I’m not sure you’re going to make it through dinner in

this condition.” Keri hooked her fi ngers around the fabric and

pulled it out of her way. Marcie was steaming hot.

“There’s no time,” Marcie protested. “You know how

long it takes me to—”

“There’s time for this, honey.” Keri got right behind her,

trapping her against the counter. She pushed two fi ngers inside

Marcie’s heat, which felt fantastic. “I’ll go down on you later,

I promise, and you know I don’t care how long it takes. I know

this isn’t your fi rst choice, but it could be faster. Could be what

you need right now.”

Marcie made a sound Keri hadn’t heard before, then she

pushed her ass back into Keri’s crotch. “God, Keri, why does

that feel so good?”

“I don’t care why.” Keri couldn’t help herself. She

wrapped an arm tight around Marcie’s waist, and used her

hips to thrust her hand even more fi rmly inside. She gritted

her teeth so she wouldn’t say words like pussy and juicy and

explain, in between her own groans, how hard her own clit

was getting from the way Marcie looked, her breasts heaving,

her face fl ushed, her body braced to push back as Keri got

even more forceful. “Come, baby, on my hand.”

Marcie let out a surprised gasp and did just that.

• 41 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Okay, so we’ve talked about everything else over this

wonderful dinner.” Marcie licked the spoon free of rum cocoa

sponge cake. She lowered her voice. “Everything except what

happened in the bathroom.”

“What about it?” Keri’s pulse had still not recovered.

She really enjoyed sex with Marcie, adored going down on

her, and appreciated the same in return. Before they’d gone

to bed the fi rst time Marcie had explained her belief in the

naturalness of the female body and how sex should refl ect that.

Even before that, their obvious chemistry had prompted both

Nirvana and Sunshine to pointedly discuss, in front of Keri,

the heterosexism that tainted much of lesbian sexuality these

days. It still made her mad that they’d equated her butchness

with thinking and wanting to be like a guy. They were Marcie’s

closest friends, so she hadn’t retorted that she was a woman

who fucked women who liked to be fucked by women, and

anything she did, therefore, was about being a lesbian and not

some secret longing to degrade her sex partners to the status of

the little missus. “I gathered that you, well, enjoyed it.”

“It felt, well, like…it was new. I mean…”

“Was it okay?”

“Yes.” Marcie’s eyes widened in emphasis. “It was, I

mean if it was for you.”

“Baby, I loved it.”

“That’s new, too—you haven’t called me baby before.”

Keri felt her cheeks color. She hadn’t realized she was

doing it. “Sorry. I know you fi nd it infantiliz—”

“Not the way you said it then,” Marcie said quickly. “It

felt…safe, nurturing.”

“Okay.” An unexpected glow of pleasure radiated through

Keri’s chest. She wants to be my baby, she thought.

• 42 •

In Deep Waters 2

The rest of dessert was consumed with many shy glances,

and Keri wondered what Marcie was thinking about. More

fucking? She hoped so, because there was a multi-screen, full

on, Marcie-on-her-back-Keri-on-top scene repeating in her

head so loudly sometimes she missed what Marcie said.

They left the restaurant arm-in-arm. Catching sight of

their refl ection in one of the many mirrors, Keri said, “You

look so beautiful in that color.” The deep Caribbean blue tunic

over a long, simple wrap skirt in the same color brought out

the delicate, light color of Marcie’s eyes.

“Thank you. You look pretty damn good yourself.” Marcie

turned slightly and Keri wondered if it were her imagination

that Marcie’s nipples were hard and pressing into her arm

through the thin black silk shirt. She wanted to explore Marcie

right there, fi nd out if she was right.

Marcie patted her tummy and said, “I could use a little

stroll…before…”

Keri fi nished the sentence in her head with, “Before I

fuck you senseless,” but she was pretty sure that wouldn’t be

Marcie’s choice of phrasing. All she said was, “Me, too.”

Marcie fi shed in her pocket and withdrew a plastic card

that Keri fi rst thought was a room key. “Our bundle of freebies

had this gift card to Prada. A hundred bucks probably doesn’t

go that far.”

Keri tucked Marcie’s hand under her arm and turned

toward the curving escalators that led to the designer shops.

“Let’s go see.”

Marcie’s prediction turned out to be correct. For the items

that even had price tags the gift card hardly dented the cost.

Much as Keri would have liked to have seen Marcie in Prada

heels, she knew neither of them could afford that kind of

extravagance.

“It was still fun looking around,” Marcie said. They exited

• 43 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

the store and stepped out of the way of two leggy, shapely

women. Keri recognized them from the lobby—the two slinky

brunettes.

“I’m going to get it right now, Kitty,” one was saying to

the other. “I’ll wear it to the poker fi nals. I won that gift card

and I’m going to use it, even if I have to make up the rest.”

“Ladies,” Keri said. “Would you like another gift card?

We can’t use ours.”

“Oh wow, you’re kidding, right?” The taller of the two

gave Keri a skeptical look. “Why would you do that?”

“I can’t throw it away.” She glanced at Marcie, who

nodded encouragingly.

“Well, hey, that’s really sweet.” Perfectly painted lips

curved in a smile. “Here, it’s not right if I don’t give you

something back. I’ve got a gift card to the toy boutique that

our convention is having in one of the suites. The last thing I

need is more toys.”

She pressed the card into Keri’s hand and accepted the

Prada card in return. “Suite fi fteen hundred.”

“Women like that are selling toys?” Marcie was genuinely

puzzled as Keri led her to the elevators.

The distant ringing of slot machines was a match to the

alarms going off in Keri’s head. You’re going to freak her out,

she told herself. If you bring toys up, and she says no, things

will never be the same. You’re falling for her, and after all the

bad times, she’s a great time you shouldn’t mess up.

“Not those kinds of toys, honey.” She had a sudden

inspiration. “I think we should go pick out something really

outrageous as a gag gift for the Solstice White Elephant.”

Keri’s heart was beating inside her eardrums.

“Oh, you mean…”

“Lube, silicone, leather.”

“I’ll bet a hundred bucks doesn’t buy much in that store

• 44 •

In Deep Waters 2

either. I’ve never actually shopped for that kind of thing

before.” Marcie was blushing. “When in Vegas…”

Just a few minutes later, Keri was feeling seriously faint

as she watched Marcie mull over the choices in dildos. She

was very businesslike, picking them up to see how much

they weighed, and only rolling her eyes at one so large it

could have served as a table leg. Keri kept her hands in her

pockets as Marcie touched vibrators and even some of the

bondage supplies. When she got to the lube samples Keri

fi nally got up the nerve to make it clear she wasn’t exactly a

novice.

“Try this one,” she suggested, squeezing a single drop onto

Marcie’s fi ngertip. “I think that stretchy and slightly viscous is

the most…natural.”

Marcie’s eyebrows arched as she rolled the lube between

her fi ngers and thumb. “That’s…I didn’t think it would feel

quite so real.” A gorgeous fl ush crept up her throat.

“I know the older I get the more a little extra moisture

helps.”

“I hadn’t noticed you lacking.” Marcie sniffed the lube,

but Keri knew it was odorless.

“Nor me you. All I have to do is look at you and…” She

winked. “Course, there are high stress days where worrying

about being wet enough is almost enough to turn off the

libido. Lube is like permission to get ready. If there’s a hurry,

it’s permission to skip foreplay and just—” She broke off,

blushing. “Like this afternoon.”

“I’ve never been into fast and…hot and bothered, I mean…

the way you make me feel.” Marcie kept playing with the

slippery stuff on her fi ngertips as if she couldn’t help herself.

“I’ve always wanted the slowness, the time.”

“It’s almost like a ritual with you. I love the care you take

to set the stage, and how it always seems like an occasion,

• 45 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

I really do.” But it doesn’t always have to be that way, Keri

wanted to add.

“Maybe I’ve been unimaginative for the last twenty or

so years. Or maybe it’s you bringing out something in me.”

Marcie moved closer and whispered, “Your fi ngers felt really

good inside me. I really didn’t need…time. I needed…you.”

“Baby,” Keri whispered back, “I could do that to you right

now.”

Marcie swallowed hard. “Shall we get these things? Um,

this one—we could say it was a holistic art work and see who

fi gures out fi rst what it really is.”

Keri liked the size and look of the marbled toy. It was

a classic non-representational shape, sleek from tip to base.

Today was the fi rst time she’d really explored the inside of

Marcie, but her guess was the toy would be a good fi t. Not that

she would suggest they use it. This was a gag gift. Right.

“What about lube? If we give someone a toy, they ought

to have lube.”

Marcie held up a small bottle of Nirvana brand. “Sunshine

will think that’s funny.”

“Nirvana won’t.”

“Nirvana doesn’t think anything is funny, but that’s okay.”

The traded gift card just covered the two items and Keri

tucked the toy package under her arm as if it were perfectly

natural to walk around that way. Marcie opened the lube bottle

to smell it as they waited for the elevator to arrive. She tipped

a drop onto her index fi nger and rubbed it around. “A little

really goes a long way.”

Keri watched Marcie smoothing the lube between her

fi ngers and thumb, and imagined those slick fi ngers pushing

between her legs. Not that lube was necessary at the moment.

It would just feel really sexy and good, Marcie playing with

her cunt, fi ngers slipping through all the folds, circling her clit,

• 46 •

In Deep Waters 2

teasing at her opening—Keri hid a shudder. If she didn’t get a

grip, she would no doubt scare Marcie with her intensity. “A

little goes a long way, especially on a tile fl oor, but that’s not

a good thing.”

Marcie laughed and closed the fl ip top when the elevator

arrived, hiding it in her skirts again. “This is one occasion that

our habit of never using plastic bags is a little embarrassing.”

“It’s just a short distance.”

There was no one on the elevator. Marcie stepped inside

and Keri moved right behind her. The doors closed and Keri

slid her free hand onto Marcie’s waist, shifting forward so they

were in the same pose they’d been in the bathroom earlier.

Marcie pushed her ass into Keri’s hips as she made a

wonderful, half-moaning, yielding sound. Keri felt disoriented,

and the tight ache of her breasts was close to painful. When the

elevator doors opened it was Marcie who broke their contact.

She glanced over her shoulder at Keri, her eyes dilated and

breath coming in gasps. Apparently, what she saw in Keri’s

face was okay, because an anticipatory smile fl itted across her

lips.

Keri reminded herself that Marcie hadn’t agreed to unbox

the dildo, and she certainly hadn’t said she wanted Keri use

it on her. Marcie had seemed to accept that it was a joke. She

set the box down on the dresser across from the bed, though,

and Marcie set the bottle of Nirvana lube next to it. Besides,

the dildo was not necessary given what she wanted to do to

Marcie with just her hands.

“Well, this has been quite a night,” Marcie said.

“It’s not over, baby,” Keri said softly. She turned Marcie

to face her. “I want to fi nish what we started.”

She wasn’t particularly gentle as she untied Marcie’s skirt

so it could fall to the fl oor. Marcie gasped as Keri shoved her

hands inside her panties, cupping her ass. They kissed, hard, a

• 47 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

kiss she only ended to lift Marcie’s tunic over her head. It drifted

across a nearby chair, and she pulled Marcie aggressively into

her arms.

“I really want to make love to you,” Keri whispered into

Marcie’s ear. “Please, baby, just let me take care of you the

way I think you need. The way I need to tonight.”

Marcie pushed her away. She slid the straps of her bra

off her shoulders and slowly peeled down the cups, not quite

exposing her nipples. “What happens in Vegas…?”

“Stays in Vegas.”

“Nobody back home has to know.” Marcie shimmied her

bra a little lower. “It’s none of their business.”

Keri’s mouth was watering. “Nobody has to know

what?”

Marcie caressed Keri’s cheek. “First time I saw you I got

the most outrageous thoughts in my head. I scared myself with

the things I imagined doing with you.”

“Like what?” Keri captured and kissed Marcie’s hand.

She swallowed. “I like my friends. I like the way we live.

But I don’t know how sex got to be…part of the way of life. I

mean, does how we have sex really have an impact on global

warming? Live simply, that was the T-shirt you were wearing

when you came into the store that day. I looked at you, and I

thought ‘Live simply, but I want her to fuck me hard.’”

Keri’s nipples tightened and her fi ngers curled with the

effort not to grab Marcie and throw her on the bed. “But when

we went to bed the fi rst time you said—”

“I was scared. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted.

I could only say what I was used to. You made it fantastic. I

realized I wanted more…”

Keri was getting lost in the soft blue of Marcie’s eyes. She

looked so vulnerable and yet so ready to try something new.

“Do you know how to say it now?”

• 48 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I’m not sure. But I think if we practice, I’ll learn.”

Taking a steadying breath, Keri pulled down Marcie’s

bra and fi lled her palms with the luscious, full breasts. She

meant to be gentler than she was as she caught Marcie’s erect

nipples between her fi ngers and thumbs. “Tonight’s different,

but not every night has to be like tonight. We can do anything

we want. It’s Vegas.”

Marcie shuddered and let out a moan. She put her hands

on Keri’s, encouraging the attention to her breasts. She threw

her head back, a beautiful line of luscious woman.

Words, so hard before, fl owed out of Keri. “I love touching

you, and kissing you. I like it when we’re so close our eyelashes

brush. You wrap me up tight and close when we make love.

Tonight I don’t want to do that.”

Marcie’s lips had parted as her hands slowly slid along

Keri’s forearms, eventually to her shoulders. “Tell me what

you want.”

“I want to dissolve you into the bed, baby. I want to make

you come on my hand again, harder this time. I want us both

to get so worked up that it feels like we’ll never get enough, so

we keep doing it.” She wrapped an arm around Marcie’s waist

and pushed her fi ngers between Marcie’s wet thighs.

Marcie’s mewl of pleasure was all the encouragement

Keri needed. She pushed her roughly back onto the bed. “Let’s

do it this way for now. I’ll keep my clothes on and fuck you,

and we’ll see how wet you can get me. You’re getting taken

care of tonight.” She couldn’t stop the words, she meant them.

“I love your cunt, baby, and I want to worship it, fuck it, and

fuck you so good that you go on craving me. I love the candles

and the long, slow baths, but I want it like this, too.”

Marcie arched her pelvis into Keri’s jeans. “The fi rst time

I saw you, with your shoulders stretching that T-shirt, I wanted

you to push me up onto a counter and have me. I’d never felt

• 49 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

like that before. I wondered if it was a midlife cri—”

Keri kissed Marcie hard. “So what if it is? So what?” She

sank two fi ngers into Marcie. “Does this feel good?”

“Yes, Keri, please.” Marcie’s eyes had widened, but they

weren’t frightened or confused. Keri felt herself tipping over a

cliff she hadn’t realized was there—she didn’t just like Marcie,

she loved her.

“That’s what I want to hear, baby.” She knew her black

slacks were getting smeared and it excited her even more. She

was sober, Marcie wasn’t just another body, and the crystalclear perceptions of subtle shifts in Marcie’s eye color, the

mottling of her skin as her abandonment grew—Keri realized

she’d never been present when doing this to any other woman.

But she was in this room, in love with this woman.

She pushed in four fi ngers, fi lling Marcie completely, and

gloried in Marcie’s, “Don’t stop!”

“Oh, I’m not going to stop, baby. You’re going to come on

my hand, then you’re going to come on my face, then I might

carry you into the bathroom and fuck you there.”

Marcie, usually without words during sex, found her

voice. “Is that what you want to do to me? Yes, that’s what I

want. Fuck me like that tonight. Fuck me, baby, please.”

Marcie cried out and Keri smothered the half scream with

a gasping kiss. “Anything you want, everything you need.”

Keri fi nally got out of bed to close the drapes. Marcie had

really liked looking out at the lights while Keri went down

on her, but they were so ever-present the room was too bright

to sleep. At least for her. Marcie was sprawled across the bed

• 50 •

In Deep Waters 2

in total abandon to the night, her hair wild on the pillow. Her

little half-snore was breaking Keri’s heart in the best possible

way.

The unopened box with the toy gleamed in the fl ickering

light just before the drapes whisked closed. What happens in

Vegas might stay in Vegas, but Keri had a feeling that the toy,

along with all the things they’d learned tonight, was coming

home with them.

• 51 •

• 52 •

In Deep Waters 2

SNAKE EYES

Karin Kallmaker

I think I’m in the wrong place.” Tendra’s gaze swept

the large suite again as she muttered under her breath.

Yes, there were coffee and snacks on the side bar of

the suite’s main room. The sofas offered comfortable respite

from a day of workshops and high-level networking. But the

women in low-rider jeans and leather vests, fi shnet stockings

and mini-skirts were not adding up to the business of trauma

surgical supplies.

A door to what she presumed was a bedroom opened and

through it she glimpsed racks of lingerie. A compact blonde

was adjusting the cups of a violet teddy until her breathtaking

cleavage was properly arranged. She shook her full, golden

hair into place over her shoulders and eyed herself critically

in a full-length mirror. Frowning at what she saw, her gaze

fl icked out the open door to where Tendra stood staring.

That cool, critical gaze traveled up and down Tendra’s

body, then a lift of an eyebrow agreed that Tendra, in her baggy

• 53 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

slacks and badly ironed white shirt, was defi nitely in the wrong

room. With an elegant tap from the toe of a killer high heel, the

blonde pushed the door closed, breaking the spell.

Tendra dug in her pocket for the business card-sized

invite to the vendor’s hospitality suite. Maybe it had been a

mistake to treat herself to a day without her contact lenses.

Holding the card as far away as she could, Tendra thought it

said suite fi fteen hundred, but that’s where she was, and, well,

the displays of certain items she could see through the other

bedroom door weren’t the kind of accessories used in patient

treatment.

Her heart pounding in an erratic rhythm, she forced herself

to stop looking at the coils of soft white rope, the gloves with

everything from faux claws to sandpaper on the fi ngertips, and

leather buckled items made to restrain any part of the human

body. Peering at the card, she decided it must say suite sixteen

hundred, and she turned toward the door.

“Can I help you?” The soft voice stopped Tendra in her

tracks.

She knew it had to be the blonde before she even turned

around. “No, but thanks. I know where I’m supposed to be.”

Crystal green eyes appraised her coolly, though Tendra

detected a hint of humor. “You’re not the fi rst person to get the

wrong fl oor. You don’t look like a doctor.”

“You don’t look like an…escort.” At least not in the street

appropriate black slacks and simple silk tee, Tendra could

have added.

The eyes darkened. “Are you trying to insult me?”

“No more than you were me.” Tendra shrugged. “I’m

fi ve years older than I look, and no, I don’t stand on a box in

the operating room.” She was used to being shorter than her

colleagues, and it was no surprise that as petite as the blonde

was, she was still an inch or so taller than Tendra was.

• 54 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I run a cyber-escort service, and no, I don’t fuck men for

money.”

Tendra gave a little nod. Her brain was too fogged and

tired to exchange barbs and fl irtations.

“I fuck women for fun, though,” the woman added. There

was a blatant invitation in her eyes. “You look like you could

use some extreme relaxation. If you twist any tighter you’re

going to break.”

Stunned by the woman’s perception, Tendra fumbled for

words. “I don’t—I’m just in the wrong—I’m not—”

“Don’t tell me you’re not into women. Not after the way

you looked at me. And at the toy room.”

“I’m late for drinks—I was meeting someone—”

The cool, fi rm voice silenced her. “Have a drink with me

in my room.”

Tendra couldn’t believe how much she was tempted.

She hadn’t had a sexual impulse for at least a week, and yet

her entire body was screaming yes in seconds. She’d had the

psych courses; she knew why she was looking for an escape

from life, through any means possible, including far too much

Scotch every one of the last seven nights.

“I’m Vette.” The woman held out her hand, her expression

cool except for that lingering gleam of humor in her eyes.

“Short for the kind of car I’m sure you’ll someday own.”

An electric shock ran through Tendra the moment their

hands clasped. “Corvettes aren’t really my style.”

Vette didn’t let go of her hand. “But wouldn’t you like to

drive one, just once?”

She knew the color was draining out of her face. Blood

was rushing to her sex, which was swelling and pulsing

like a second heart. She had resented having to come to this

convention instead of taking a badly needed few days off. Her

mentor Reilly had said she would be better for the distraction,

• 55 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

but Reilly had Liz, and that made her outlook on life a lot

rosier than it used to be. Distractions? Tendra hadn’t arrived

here wanting more than a steady supply of Scotch and a lot of

sleep.

Vette moved just a little closer, still holding Tendra’s hand.

“Actually, they say a Corvette isn’t a car you drive. It’s a car

that drives you.”

She trembled, unable to breathe. The woman’s eyes were

mesmerizing and Tendra felt as if a spell were stealing over

her, and she was falling. Falling, and willingly.

“I want to fuck you,” Vette whispered. “Jesus. I took one

look at you, and that’s all I can think about. Fucking you until

you forget your name.”

I just walked in the wrong door, Tendra wanted to say. She

wasn’t into this kind of scene.

“Breathe.” Vette’s voice sharpened with command.

“Breathe before you faint.”

Tendra sucked in air, and her vision narrowed to Vette’s

face. She felt pierced by those eyes, pinned in place, and far

too much of herself was exposed.

Maybe if they’d had to wait for an elevator she might

have found the wherewithal to extricate herself. Vette’s grip

on her hand wasn’t tight. A simple twist would have separated

them. Vette had stopped gazing at her with that penetrating

intensity as they walked down the corridor, so she could have

just walked away.

Vette opened the door to her room and even stood back

to let Tendra enter fi rst. She could have backed off. But she

didn’t do any of those things.

She went in. It was a hotel room, like any other. Sunlight

still streamed in through the open drapes. It wasn’t a dungeon,

or a staged set like in a porn movie, just two beds, a dresser,

• 56 •

In Deep Waters 2

and a tastefully hidden TV. A bottle of Glenfi ddich sat on the

dresser, still nearly full.

The door snicked closed as Vette said, “Take off your

clothes and get on the bed.”

Why did every word Vette say seem to hit her with a

physical force? Her skin jumped at the command, but her

brain objected. “I’m not into—I mean, this isn’t me. I think

you have the wrong idea of what I like.”

Vette looked up from pulling the covers off the bed. “No, I

think I have you fi gured out. You’re not normally submissive.

Most of the time you’re in absolute control of everything. Your

last relationship, if you can call it that, you were defi nitely the

top in and out of the bedroom, and she left because you didn’t

give her any space.”

Tendra wasn’t going to talk about what’s her name. In the

tone she reserved for fi rst-year residents, she said, “Stop it.

You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right.” Vette undid the fl y of her slacks and they

made a soft, sensual sound sliding to the fl oor. “Except that

right now you need in the worst way not to be in control. You

need to let someone else do the planning, the worrying, the

protecting. And right now, I really want to be that for someone.

We both get what we’re aching to have.”

Tendra tried not to look at the almost sheer panties that

were clinging to Vette like a second skin. She closed her eyes

and saw the massive amount of blood against the white of the

surgical table. The tone of the fl at line warning on the heart

rate monitor had played in her ears for the last week, though

at the moment the pounding of her own heart was almost loud

enough to drown it out.

She’d been lucky, lucky beyond belief to have practiced as

long as she had without losing a supposedly otherwise healthy

• 57 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

patient. Sure, there had been the patients nobody could save,

but a teenager with an unsuspected blood clotting disorder—it

had all happened so fast. The fi rst was the hardest, everyone

said so. Even if she had done everything she should have,

everything necessary, it was still hard. His whole life had been

ahead of him.

“Come back,” Vette whispered. She was standing in front

of Tendra now, magnifi cently naked. In the teddy she had been

sensual and inviting, in street clothes elegant and sexy. Naked,

it felt as if some other kind of energy was shimmering around

her. Tendra had visions of one hard, erect nipple playing

against her clit, and shivered at the thought of those full, soft

breasts massaging her ass.

She was breathing hard. She had to close her eyes. She

wasn’t sure she licked her lips, but if she did it was because

the thought of losing herself in the act of worshipping between

Vette’s legs made her thirsty, and a bottle of Scotch was no

substitute.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed,” Vette repeated.

Tendra obeyed. She felt tension fall out of her shoulders

during the simple act of unbuttoning her shirt. She opened her

eyes to fi nd Vette watching her appreciatively. A few minutes

where she didn’t think, didn’t remember…this wasn’t how

she would normally achieve a state of tabula rasa, but the

opportunity was here.

Her jeans slid to the ground. With a tug, they ended up

in a heap, along with her shoes and socks. In another halfminute, she had shrugged out of her shirt, unhooked her bra,

and stepped out of her panties. All done automatically, as if

she were getting ready for bed at home, on her own.

“Very nice,” Vette said. “Now get on the bed.”

She hesitated. “How?”

“Surprise me.”

• 58 •

In Deep Waters 2

Something in Vette’s voice told Tendra she wasn’t moving

fast enough. She got on the bed, on her hands and knees.

“Spread your knees.” Vette’s hands were already on her

body, caressing her back and shoulders, then underneath to

play with her nipples. Tweaking, pulling, not cruel, but sharply

stimulating. “You’re naked and on my bed, waiting for me to

fuck you.”

Tendra said nothing, not sure what she was supposed to

do except wait. Vette’s hands were fi rm and controlling.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.” It was the truth, but it wasn’t all she needed.

“Then get on your back.”

Tendra rolled over and was just settling when Vette moved

on top of her. She was pushed down the rest of the way, her

legs nudged open, then fi ngers were inside her. Vette pinned

her with the weight of her body and she pushed even deeper.

Vette had been right; if there was bedroom play, Tendra

was a top. She’d never yielded to anyone before, not like this.

Vette had some of her weight on one elbow, and her forearm

was draped lightly over Tendra’s throat. When she swallowed,

she could feel that light pressure reminding her she was not

in charge. She was on this bed to take what Vette wanted to

give, to enjoy it, to please with her own pleasure. To forget her

name, to forget…

“No,” Vette said. She looked into Tendra’s eyes, all that

sharp, bright intelligence leaving no room in Tendra’s thoughts

except for the sensation in her cunt as Vette thrust and rolled,

massaged and teased. “Stay open, stay with me.”

Tendra could hardly breathe. Those eyes possessed her;

they gave her no place to hide except behind her own closed

lids.

Vette put pressure on Tendra’s throat. Tendra immediately

opened her eyes. “That’s better,” Vette cooed. “No hiding.

• 59 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

You’re getting fucked by a complete stranger who doesn’t

even know your name. Let it feel good. Oh, that’s better. You

just got so wet.”

Tendra knew sex could fi ll up empty places inside her.

She’d loved, been washed over with tenderness. What Vette

was doing to her was the opposite—it drained. The room

was going dark, sounds were getting muffl ed. Even her own

heartbeat, throbbing in her ears, was getting faint.

She wanted to beg to come. She wanted to beg for Vette to

lick her, to fuck her harder, but she wasn’t in charge. Whatever

Vette felt like doing that was what would happen. She hadn’t

been told she could beg.

“There, there, right there,” Vette murmured. “Put your

hands under your ass.”

It was hard to move with Vette’s weight on her, hard to

make her body do anything when Vette’s fi ngers were touching

everything, stroking from nerve to nerve, deep, shallow,

twisting, thrusting. She wriggled, trying to obey, aware that

Vette wasn’t making it easy. She had to get it right or Vette

would stop.

She was about to say that she had done as she’d been told

when Vette said, “That’s right, I’m fucking you.”

Her eyes glowed like green fi re, burning into Tendra.

“We met ten minutes ago, and now you’re getting fucked.

There’s nothing but my hand, my body, and your hungry cunt

liking what I’m doing to you. I wanted your body, to own it, to

use it. That makes you mine.”

The words were running together. She wasn’t sure what

Vette was saying, but she didn’t have to know. She hung

suspended from the jewels of Vette’s eyes, the world shrinking

inward until those eyes were the only light, and letting Vette’s

hand enjoy her depths was the only reason she existed.

• 60 •

In Deep Waters 2

Vette shifted her position slightly and the feel of hot, wet

pussy on her thigh distracted her from Vette’s eyes. But Vette’s

words brought her focus back to the sharp gaze. “I thought

you might want to know what you’ll get to lick, if you please

me.”

The tension in her shoulders, across her breasts, was

unbearable. She felt tethered to Vette’s eyes, swinging with

each thrust, afraid she would break free, fall, get lost forever.

There was something that wouldn’t let her go, but she needed

to escape it, so she pushed up, thrust up to meet Vette, to give

herself to those eyes.

Her orgasm shattered her. She was empty, turned inside

out.

The past dissolved, everything went away. Only her body

remained, a ragged collection of trembling muscle, shaking

nerves and so much wet…so wet.

The green eyes softened, fi lled with matching tears. “It’s

okay,” Vette said. “It’ll be okay.”

She curled into the welcoming arms, said thank you

for the tissue. She’d never come like that before in her life.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to again, but even as the thought

formed, her body told her otherwise.

Vette asked softly, “What’s your name?”

She looked at Vette blankly for a long moment.

Vette smiled. “Good.”

• 61 •

• 62 •

In Deep Waters 2

LET IT RIDE

Radcly f fe

I’ve always wondered what limo drivers did while they

were waiting for their clients to fi nish doing whatever

they were doing,” a woman said as she slid up beside me.

I dropped my last quarter into the slot machine and

watched two cherries and an orange jiggle into position on

the horizontal bar, then turned to the redhead I’d fi rst seen

that morning at the airport. The company I worked for had

sent a fl eet of six limos to pick up arriving members of Escort

Services International, and I was driving one of the black

stretches assigned to the group for the next fi ve days. I hadn’t

been quite as lucky as a couple of my fellow chauffeurs. My

client was one of the corporate executives—a friendly enough

guy—but I would have much preferred to drive the escorts to

the Palace. My current companion had been one of a group

of sleek, sophisticated women who deplaned looking as if

they’d just stepped out of the pages of Cosmo. Even though

they were all great looking, she stood out for me. I think it was

• 63 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

her obvious confi dence and self-assurance. She clearly didn’t

think being a high-class call girl was anything to apologize

for.

I motioned to the beeper on my belt. “These mean we

don’t have to lurk at the curb any longer.”

“What do you do instead?”

“Most of the guys congregate in the lounge and talk about

sports or girls,” I replied. I’d shed my black suit jacket and

loosened my tie when I’d started feeding the one-armed bandit

an hour ago. I saw her give me a slow once over, and I hoped

my white shirt wasn’t wrinkled. She looked just as good as she

had earlier. Her shoulder length red hair was wavy and thick,

and she’d left it loose. She’d changed into a casual pair of

black Capris and a sheer pale blue blouse, and the lacy cups of

her diminutive bra were visible as they cradled her full breasts.

I think I must have stared a little too long because when I

glanced up, she gave me a knowing smile. I’m sure she was

used to people assessing her body, and I suddenly didn’t want

to be relegated to the category of those who mindlessly lusted

after her. Even if I did have a fl ash of mindless lust imagining

what it would be like to get my fi ngers inside those frothy bits

of white lace and lift her breasts out into my hands.

“You don’t care for the topics?” she asked.

I struggled to remember what we had been talking about

before my brain dropped into my crotch. Oh, right—sports

and girls. “I like them both, in the right circumstances. But I

prefer action to conversation.”

She signaled to a cashier and bought a paper container

fi lled with 400 quarters and set it on the narrow shelf in front

of my slot machine. Without taking her eyes off me, she

started dropping coins into the slot. “And what’s your favorite

sport?”

“Poker.”

• 64 •

In Deep Waters 2

“You live in the right town then.”

“That’s what I thought when I moved out here,” I replied.

“I still do.”

“And what about the girls?”

“What about them?”

“If you don’t like to talk about them, what do you like to

do with them?”

I caught her wrist as she was about to slide another coin

into the machine. Her face registered surprise, then interest as

I pulled the coin from between her fi ngers and dropped it back

into her bucket. “It depends on how much time I have.”

“Some things don’t take a lot of time.”

“And some things are better if they do.”

She nodded, as if liking my answer. “Why did you stop

me?”

“I was afraid you’d get lucky and we’d be tied up collecting

your winnings.”

“You have something else in mind?”

“My client said he wouldn’t need me until after midnight.

That’s a little over four hours.”

“That’s a lot of time.”

I picked up the cardboard container and tucked it under

my arm. Then I took her hand. “That’s just enough time. Would

you care to join me for a drink?”

“I’d love to. I’m Erica, by the way.”

I told her my name and led her away. We’d gotten halfway

across the casino fl oor before she pulled on my hand to slow

me down.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“I was just wondering where we’re going, since the lounge

is in the other direction.”

“I thought somewhere private would be nicer.” When

she didn’t reply, I drew her through the crowds, down a long

• 65 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

hallway, and outside to a small private lot where the limos

were parked. At eight in the evening, there was enough light

for me to see her clearly, and I could tell she was surprised.

Her eyes, which were very nearly turquoise, shaded to a darker

blue and her lips parted wordlessly when I opened the rear

door of the stretch and motioned her inside. I imagined she

was used to feigning excitement and pleasure, and I liked the

fact that she hadn’t expected this. The tinted windows rendered

us invisible.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked, rapidly running

through the rear controls to turn on the interior lights and the

sound system. The auxiliary systems in the limo ran off a selfcontained power unit, so I didn’t need to start the engine. I

found some sensual jazz, then opened a small refrigerator built

into the rear of the partition dividing the front compartment

from the spacious area reserved for clients. Two leather bench

seats ran at right angles along the rear and the side opposite

the doors. Erica sat in the center of the forward facing seat and

crossed her legs.

“I would love a martini. Can you do that?”

“I can.” I reached for the vermouth.

“Full service chauffeur?”

I hesitated for a second, then reached for the Stoli.

Somehow, I knew she’d be a vodka martini woman. I wasn’t

sure how to phrase this without suggesting criticism of her.

“I’ll pretty much do anything the client requires.”

“Does that include providing specialized services?”

“Not personally, no.” I handed her the drink after dropping

in an olive.

She sipped it, murmured appreciation, and regarded me

over the rim of the glass as I settled on the seat next to her.

“You don’t perform sexual favors for your clients.”

• 66 •

In Deep Waters 2

“No, but part of my job is to arrange an escort for them if

called upon.”

“I see.” She cradled the martini glass in one hand and

drew my tie through her fi ngers with the other, tugging me

closer with each stroke. When her mouth was a fraction away

from mine, she whispered, “What if the client requests you?”

“It depends on the client.” I licked the surface of her lips

which were tinged with the taste of alcohol.

“What if the escort requests you?”

She tilted the glass toward my lips and I sipped her drink.

“None ever has.”

“Until now.”

Erica straddled my lap and wrapped one arm around my

neck while she sipped her drink. At some point, she’d kicked

off her heels, but I hadn’t noticed. She settled her ass on my

thighs, swallowed the rest of her martini, and deposited the

glass on the small tray above the adjoining seat. Then she

hooked a fi nger around the knot of my tie and dragged it down

until it hung in two thin black lines down my chest.

“I’m on vacation. Well, not really a vacation,” Erica

amended. “A working holiday.”

“Working?”

“Not in the usual sense of the word,” she said with a smile

as she slowly unbuttoned my shirt. “There’s talk of a union

and health benefi ts and other organizational details. I’m here

to advocate, not see clients.”

I raised my shoulders and Erica pushed my shirt down

my arms, but when I would have pulled my hands free of the

still buttoned cuffs, she stopped me, leaving me with my arms

tethered at my sides. The unexpected restriction caught me by

surprise, and so did the quick pulse of excitement that shot

through my body and coalesced between my legs.

• 67 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Do you mind?” Erica asked lazily as she kissed my

jaw, then my neck. “I so very rarely have a chance to call the

shots.”

“I’ll bet you’re always in charge,” I said, my breath coming

fast as Erica played her fi ngers over my chest, “except…no

one knows it.”

Laughing, she pushed her hips further back on my legs and

curled forward to kiss the center of my chest. “It is possible,

of course, to pretend to be led while really leading, but it’s so

much more fun not to be in the closet about it.”

“I want you to have fun.”

She regarded me seriously while rolling my nipple

between her fi ngers, very slowly and very hard until my

stomach contracted and my hips raised off the leather bench.

“That’s very nice of you.”

“Not nice.” I thrust my hips, hoping to bump my clit

against her crotch. I ached for a little contact to diffuse the

building pressure. “Pleasing women is what I need to make

me come.”

“Maybe we’ll both try it differently tonight.”

She sucked my nipple, scraping her teeth around and

around the edges until I was so wound up only the back of my

head and thighs were still making contact with the seat beneath

me. When she slipped one hand between us and squeezed my

crotch, I shivered and jerked away.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, “but I’m not used to this.”

“You don’t like it?” She covered my breasts with her

hands as she slid off my legs and knelt on the fl oor. I opened

my thighs without her asking and she licked a warm, wet trail

down the center of my stomach.

“I like it. I’m just, I can’t…I was afraid you might make

me come. And I don’t usually…that way.”

She shook her head, obviously pleased, and unbuckled

• 68 •

In Deep Waters 2

my belt. Again, without being asked, I lifted my hips and she

pulled my clothes down until she could get in close between

my thighs. She kissed my clit. “Of course you’re going to

come.”

When she sucked me, I made a sound that didn’t sound

like me at all. I didn’t want her to stop. I loved the way her

lips closed around me, hot and incredibly soft. She probed and

teased me with the tip of her tongue, a torture so sweet I closed

my eyes and prayed she kept going. And then there was nothing

except her mouth, her lips, her tongue, and a pleasure so deep

I begged out loud for more. When she moaned, the vibration

shot through me as if a switch had been thrown on an electric

current. I ripped my hands free and gripped her head, tangling

my fi ngers in her hair, and wrenched her mouth away.

“Stop,” I groaned. “Too much.”

Stunned, she stared at me, her expression nearly pleading.

It was then I realized she had opened her slacks and was

masturbating while she pleasured me with her mouth.

“Please,” she whispered, “you’re close.”

“So are you.” I grasped her shoulders and coaxed her

upright. “Come fi rst. For me.”

For a second, I thought she would refuse, and although my

mind was hazy with the nearness of my orgasm, I realized she

wasn’t used to putting her pleasure fi rst. I hooked my fi ngers

in the waistband of her slacks and eased them down. “Straddle

me. I want to touch you.”

Her eyes never left my face as she bared herself and knelt

on the leather seat with her legs on either side of my thighs.

“Open your blouse,” I whispered, spanning her narrow

waist with my hands, my thumbs almost meeting in the

center of her abdomen. I dragged my hands down her sides

and watched her fi ngers tremble as she worked the buttons

loose on her blouse. As I danced my fi ngers over her smooth,

• 69 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

tight thighs, I leaned forward and sucked her nipple through

the lace of her bra. She moaned deep in her throat and drove

her fi ngers into my hair, holding my face fi rmly against her. I

cupped her with my palm between her thighs and she rocked

back and forth on my fi ngers. She was hot, so hot, the way

only a woman aroused can be. I spread my fi ngers and let her

slide her clitoris between them, setting the pace.

With a fl ick of her hand, she opened her bra and let her

breasts fall free. I rubbed my cheek over one, then the other,

and sucked the smooth skin. Her thighs trembled on either side

of mine, and I wrapped an arm around her waist to support

her.

“I’m almost coming,” she whispered, rocking erratically

in my hand.

“Hold on, if you can.” I steadied her hips between my

hands and guided her forward until I could cover her clitoris

with my mouth.

“Oh God,” she cried in surprise, and I felt her jerk between

my lips. “Oh, I’m coming.”

I sucked and licked her, one arm around her waist to keep

her cleaved to me, and grasped my clitoris with my other hand.

She rubbed herself over my mouth, coming for a long time

while I came fast and hard with only a few strokes.

“What happened?” she murmured as she dropped into my

lap, turning sideways so I could cradle her in my arms. “That

didn’t go the way I planned.”

“I guess I’m just used to driving,” I answered, resettling

her blouse around her shoulders so she wouldn’t get cold. I

kissed her as she relaxed against me. “Sorry. I know you had

something else in mind.”

“No. I liked it. I liked exciting you. I liked you exciting

me.” She looked up at me. “I didn’t really have any plans

beyond seducing you.”

• 70 •

In Deep Waters 2

I laughed. “Well, you defi nitely succeeded. I’m sorry I

have to go back to work later.”

“Maybe we can do something about that.” She reached

behind her and between my legs, sliding her fi ngers over me. I

was sensitive from coming, and when she fondled my clitoris,

I groaned. She murmured, “Oh yes. We should defi nitely do

something about that.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, practically choking on the words.

“I have to take your boss somewhere later.”

She stopped what she was doing, but kept her hand over

me. Then she kissed me. “He’s not my boss. He’s my operations

manager.”

“What?” I wasn’t thinking very clearly because if she kept

pressing where she was pressing, I was going to come again.

“I’m not an escort,” she whispered with her mouth against

my ear. “I’m the owner.”

“Uh…I…”

She laughed, and as I started to come, she added, “And

you’re my new driver.”

• 71 •

• 72 •

In Deep Waters 2

THREE OF A KIND

Karin Kallmaker

I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” Farrah

Fotheringay turned quickly into a nook as she

strained to hear her agent’s reply over the din of slot

machines.

Her state-of-the-art cell phone was worthless; Ling

sounded like she was on the far side of Jupiter, not cozy in

her New York offi ce. “Your squeaky clean image needs some

serious tarnishing.”

“But does the photo shoot have to be with her?” She faced

the wall when a group of women emerged from the restroom.

She enjoyed conventions and she liked talking to fans, but not

on the way to the bathroom.

“Cindy Crawford was never so hot as when she was

shaving k.d. lang’s face. What’s the matter? Are you afraid

that more than Barrett Lancey’s reputation will rub off on

you?” Ling said something to someone that Farrah couldn’t

• 73 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

make out, then the connection cleared. “Her girlfriend is the

photographer. What could happen?”

I could make a fool of myself, Farrah wanted to say. She

hadn’t been fi ghting these feelings for all these years to lose her

reputation now. Maybe it was shallow, but she worked hard,

and she intended to stay at the very top of romance best seller

lists where image, image, image was everything, everything,

everything. Farrah Fotheringay was romance’s most eligible

bachelorette. A long-nursed rumor of a love lost to a tragic,

early death had hidden her secrets so deep even she didn’t

remember what she was. That is, until she looked at Barrett

Lancey, her gorgeous girlfriend, and women like them.

Managing to complete her business in the restroom without

being asked for an autograph, she tried to shake herself out of

her poor-little-me state of mind. Makeup repaired, she made

her way across the Palace Casino to the meeting rooms where

there was already a queue at the doors for “Farrah and Barrett

in Conversation.”

She ought to be annoyed they were even paired on a panel

like that. She had fi fteen years in the business and Barrett

only four. Farrah Fotheringay was her publisher’s cash cow,

and so far, while sales were strong, excitement in the existing

fan base was the only thing Barrett Lancey was generating.

Meow, meow, meow, Farrah thought. She’s generating plenty

of excitement in you.

What really annoyed her was that Barrett Lancey had

groupies, both lesbian and straight. “Lance” could snap her

fi ngers and any of the cute young dykes would crawl over

cut glass for her. She needed to keep some distance from the

shaggy-hair, darkeyed woman, needed to downright hate

her if she could, otherwise her racing pulse might become

obvious to the woman who caused it. Even worse, Barrett’s

• 74 •

In Deep Waters 2

equally dynamic girlfriend could notice, and the last thing she

needed was for Racie Racine to decide that her lens would

highlight Farrah’s crow’s feet, cellulite, and suspiciously silver

highlights.

Barrett and Racie—honestly! What kinds of names were

those? Didn’t lesbians have names like Mary or Jane or Patty?

Oh stop it, she told herself. Fotheringay might be fake, but she

was a closet-case lesbian named Farrah with no room to cast

stones.

The groupies were clearing a path for the couple, who

walked everywhere arm-in-arm. From the very start of her

skyrocketing career as the new breed of romance writer, Barrett

had made her sexuality plain in dedications of her work to her

girlfriend. She could get away with that in this day and age, but

Farrah hadn’t had that option when she’d broken into romance

publishing fi fteen years ago. Back then a virginal aura meshed

with that handy broken heart had been her only choice if she

didn’t want anyone wondering why she never married, never

had children, lived alone.

She had only to look at Carly Vincent’s rapid descent

from A-List to B-List when she had come out fi fteen years ago

for proof. She wondered if Carly was as bitter as she was that

these newbies, with no history, no baggage, could burst on the

scene, peccadilloes and all, with nary a consequence.

Fifteen years ago, she had had to play it straight, and her

heroines had to faint at least once every book. They couldn’t

be kick-ass super spy martial arts Navy Seal ninjas who spoke

fi ve languages while curing cancer and racing thoroughbreds.

So Barrett got everything she wanted, Farrah thought

viciously, while other people were stuck accepting a career as

a substitute for love, as if a stack of bestsellers could warm a

bed. Well, it didn’t warm one bed. It warmed three, including

• 75 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

the one in Kauai, thank you very much. Three empty beds

were better than one empty bed—oh, you’re blathering, she

scolded herself.

“Farrah!”

Crap. Barrett had seen her and the groupies were making

room. Flashes popped as they did cheek kisses, then more

photos were snapped as the smooches were repeated with

Racie.

Those of Barrett’s groupies that weren’t hot for Barrett

were hot for Racie. Where Barrett was just a bit scruffy, just

a bit dangerous and rough, Racie was sleek and elegant, like

a supermodel, except she had cleavage and muscles. Her long

black hair stretched past her shapely backside. Farrah could

be hot for Racie, too. Face it, you idiot, you could be hot for

anything right now.

“How have you been, Farrah?” Racie held her just a little

bit longer than the exchange of cheek pecks. The question, in

her sexy contralto and the glance from her dark bedroom eyes

made Farrah feel slightly confused, dazzled. That was one

thing Racie and Barrett had in common. Both of them had the

same alluring gaze that suggested that if were you in private,

you’d see a very different woman, and not a woman who was

necessarily clothed.

It was a ridiculous thought, she told herself. They were

oozing sex appeal for the fans.

Farrah gathered her wits and answered, “Absolutely

wonderful. I love it when conventions are in Vegas. There are

direct fl ights out of Honolulu.”

“Isn’t this insane?” Barrett took her by the arm, and

suddenly Farrah was in between the two of them, arm-in-arm.

“When I found out we were doing a session together it blew

me away. I’m so not worthy. They’re all here to see you.”

“You’re too modest.” Farrah found herself glancing back

• 76 •

In Deep Waters 2

and forth between Racie’s suggestive warmth and Barrett’s

bold admiration.

“I’m just making sure the lovely Miss Fotheringay makes

it safely to the podium,” Barrett assured someone in the crowd.

Her warm hand tightened on Farrah’s arm.

In a heartbeat Farrah was back in San Antonio at the

convention six months ago when she’d stumbled going up the

stairs to a dais and Barrett, right behind her, had pulled her

close to save her from a nasty fall.

The contact had been pure electricity, and the moment had

disturbed Farrah’s sleep for weeks. The Internet mania over

the amateur photo of Farrah Fotheringay swooning in Barrett

Lancey’s arms was what had given Ling the idea for this photo

shoot. Well, Farrah had her misgivings. Internet mania needed

to translate to sales, didn’t it, or what was the point? Hell, they

both had warm hands.

The session moderator introduced them both with suitable

fl attery, and after some patter, their “conversation” got

underway.

The questions weren’t surprises, and as she and Barrett

chatted, Farrah was even more aware of the animal charm that

Barrett exuded. She was doing it on purpose. The look in her

eyes was so blatant at times that Farrah inevitably glanced at

Racie, wondering if she noticed. The event was over in what

seemed like no time, and Barrett’s effi cient groupies limited

the number of lingering fans until the three of them could

fi nally have a few semi-private words.

Racie touched the light cashmere tunic that Farrah was

wearing. “That blue makes your skin look like fi ne china.

Were you going to wear that for the photos?”

“I could,” Farrah said uncertainly. “I also have a silk dress

that has Asian styling to it. Mandarin collar. It’s a similar shade

of blue.”

• 77 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Speaking purely as a photographer,” Racie said carefully,

“I would love to see you in scarlet, and off the shoulder. I’ve

got things staged for a sort of fainting couch pose.” Her gaze

was so intense that Farrah could feel it on her breasts. “Your

round cleavage contrasted against Barrett’s square shoulders,

I mean, composition-wise, it’ll be stunning.”

It was just what photographers did, Farrah told herself.

They all made their subjects feel beautiful and desirable.

She’d done photo shoots before. She knew how the game

worked. The trouble was she was going to be smashed up

against a damnably sexy woman, a woman who made parts

of her feel swollen and hot. And she was going to be watched

by another damnably sexy woman the whole while. Racie

Racine was an excellent photographer, and after all this time,

Farrah didn’t want her secrets divined from a photograph

that captured something real, deeper than the persona she’d

nursed all these years.

“What will Barrett be wearing?”

“A black vintage gambler’s vest,” Barrett answered, “and

tuxedo trousers.”

“The color of bow tie will depend on your dress,” Racie

added.

“Well, I don’t have anything off-the-shoulder in scarlet.”

“This is Vegas.” Racie’s smile was conspiratorial.

“I actually saw the perfect thing in the window at Yves St.

Laurent.”

“I’ll think about it,” Farrah said. So she was going to

be half-dressed while Barrett, lucky Barrett, got to be fully

clothed. With one eyebrow lifted, she said, “Unless we want

to play with gender roles. I wear the tux and she wears the

dress.”

Barrett made a low sound of approval. “I’d probably pass

out if you wore a tux.”

• 78 •

In Deep Waters 2

“She gets faint whenever she watches Victor/Victoria—

Julie Andrews in a tux.” Racie chuckled. “But she hasn’t worn

a dress since the fourth grade.”

“I suspected as much.” Farrah hoped her expression

was archly fl irtatious, something, anything that didn’t reveal

that Barrett’s and Racie’s frank assessment of her body was

causing a riot of pleasurable sensations between her legs. How

long had it been since she’d had sex, anyway?

That you even have to ask, she told herself, meant it had

been too long, and it had been a risky one-night stand, so

hardly satisfying. Well, she wasn’t going to fi nd sex in all the

wrong places, and Barrett Lancey’s suite was at the top of that

list. There was a meeting of escort workers in the hotel—she’d

pay for it fi rst.

“Well,” she assumed a bright tone, “I think I have some

shopping to do. Are we still on for four p.m.?”

“Four it is,” Racie confi rmed. She moved into the casual

circle of Barrett’s arm, still giving Farrah that you-gorgeousthing-you look at which photographers excelled.

Farrah made her way out of the meeting room, convinced

she could feel the gazes of both women on her back. Her feet,

of their own volition, turned toward the shopping concourse.

At four p.m., the door to Barrett and Racie’s suite stood

open. A couple of groupies were just inside, sipping wine as

they chatted.

“How wonderful to see you,” one said. The other, in the

same uniform of jeans and a polo shirt, pointed toward the

suite’s expansive main room. “They’re set up in the master

bath.”

“The bathroom,” Farrah echoed. She resettled the dress

• 79 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

bag over her arm and tried not to show her puzzlement. Since

when were there fainting couches in bathrooms?

It was fortuitous that she saw Barrett before anyone else

realized she had arrived. The black raw silk vintage gambler’s

vest fi t her like a glove, and tuxedo slacks were cut loosely

over her slender hips.

Nobody had mentioned that Barrett wouldn’t be wearing

a shirt.

For several seconds Farrah had a lightning fantasy of

licking her way across Barrett’s hard-as-granite shoulders. She

hoped the momentary weakness she felt didn’t show in her

face because she realized that Barrett had seen her. There was

no sign of Racie, thank goodness, because that tight silk vest

didn’t hide the fact that Barrett’s nipples had hardened.

“I’m waiting to be coiffed and made up. What do you

think so far?” She turned in a slow circle.

“Gorgeous,” Farrah said honestly. She was too breathless

to say more.

“Do you need to get changed? How about the other

bedroom?” Barrett led the way. “This suite is ridiculously

large.”

Finding her voice, Farrah strove to match the bantering

tone. “As are most things in Vegas. I feel like I should car pool

just to get from one end of the hotel to the other. I feel lost in

suites like these, so I usually opt for a small setup.”

Barrett turned from the door to the second bedroom.

“Racie and I usually fi nd a way to make use of the space.” Her

gaze fl icked to the centerpiece round sofa in the main room as

she gestured an “after you” to Farrah.

It was almost impossible to shake the image of Barrett and

Racie entwined in various positions on the furniture. She knew

nothing about them, not really, but her imagination supplied

• 80 •

In Deep Waters 2

accoutrements for Barrett and a leather bustier for Racie while

her ears were fi lled with a full-scale orgy soundtrack.

“Do you have everything you need?” Barrett lounged in

the doorway, the vest pulled tight across her chest.

“Yes, thank you,” Farrah said automatically. She clamped

her mouth shut before she added, “But not everything I want.”

Instead she made a show of shooing Barrett out of the doorway.

“Away with you. I have to get ready.”

Barrett didn’t move. “Ready for what?” Her eyes were

openly suggestive.

Farrah didn’t know where her answer came from.

“Anything you’ve got.” She planted both hands on the rock

hard shoulders and shoved.

Barrett faltered back a step and Farrah closed the door in

her surprised face.

There was no point to false modesty. Farrah looked at

herself in the mirror, assessing the fi t and drape of the scarlet

dress she’d bought to please Racie. The off-the-shoulder

bodice swept forward to cup her breasts. A technological

marvel of a bra lifted her bust to create cleavage where gravity

had long since won. The bra had been so gorgeous she’d

gotten the matching thong, not that she was going to let Racie

photograph it. Tapering in at her waist, the heavy fabric fl ared

at her hips and fell to the fl oor. Once she had on her shoes, it

would just brush the ground. With every step, the twin slits

would expose her bare legs from ankle to four or fi ve inches

above her knees.

It wasn’t her usual look, but Racie’s eye for style had been

perfect. The dress was sizzling hot. She fought down a blush

• 81 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

thinking of what it would do to Barrett’s composure. Surely

Racie, of all people, would see the crackle of chemistry between

them—all fi ne and good for the sake of the photo shoot, but

when that was over Racie might have second thoughts.

She answered a knock at the door, but it was only the

makeup artist. Within fi ve minutes she even had powder on her

cleavage. Her eyes went from a sweet honey brown to a smoky,

sultry topaz. Twenty minutes with a hair sadist transformed

her shoulder-length blond hair into a high class French knot.

Alone again, Farrah looked at herself in the mirror as she

clasped a strand of pearls with a deep blue pendant around her

neck. Matching drop earrings completed the outfi t. Well, she

still had to put on the shoes. She wasn’t sure she could walk in

them, so she’d wait.

The stilettos dangling from her fi ngertips, she took a deep

breath and opened the door.

One of the groupies whistled.

Someone said, “Damn.” Then Farrah realized it was

Barrett. A scarlet bow tie had been artfully tied around her

bare neck, and all Farrah could think about for a moment was

undoing that tie with her teeth.

“Will I do?” She tried for the happy, virginal smile that

graced the back of every paperback romance she’d ever sold.

“You’ll do.” Barrett sounded hoarse. “Did you need help

with those shoes?”

“No, I was waiting—it’s not—oh…” Before Farrah knew

it, she was seated on the round sofa with Barrett kneeling at

her feet.

The Ferragamo satin and patent stilettos were in Barrett’s

hands. She slipped the left on fi rst, one warm, strong hand

cupped behind Farrah’s calf.

Her voice pitched low, she said, “You’re going to be taller

• 82 •

In Deep Waters 2

than I am in these gorgeous shoes.”

“Would you rather I didn’t wear them?”

“Of course not.” She slipped the right shoe into place. “I

want you to walk on me in them.”

Farrah batted her eyelashes. “I didn’t think you were into

that.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” Barrett

looked up, the vest straining over her shoulders and against

her taut breasts. She wasn’t smiling.

“You started without me!” Racie swept into the room, her

camera already clicking. “Jesus, you two look incredibly hot.

Keep talking.”

Farrah felt her cheeks stain with color. Barrett looked a

little fl ushed too.

“Oh, you’ve both frozen up. Okay, everybody else out.

There’s work to be done. You two stay put.” Racie shepherded

everybody out of the suite, even the groupies who looked like

they were going to faint. She fl ipped the safety latch on, then

said, “Now it’s just us.”

Farrah wanted to ask Barrett what she’d meant, but it

wasn’t appropriate. She shouldn’t be fl irting. Barrett’s hand

still cupped her calf and Farrah took a deep breath, wondering

what Barrett would do if she shifted the toe of the pump just a

little to the left.

Maybe her intention showed in her eyes, or maybe it was

just the way she shifted her shoulders, but when Barrett’s jaw

went slack, Farrah felt herself blush again. Femme fatales

don’t blush, she told herself fi ercely.

Racie was saying, “Just the three of us. Baby, lean a little

closer, and Farrah, can you incline your shoulders toward her,

but look over this direction? Get closer.”

“Someone said we were shooting in the bathroom.”

• 83 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“That’s the cover shot,” Racie explained. Her camera

clicked and whirred like a slot machine wheel. “If these turn

out, they could go inside. Vanity Fair is going to love this look.

Barrett, honey, put your tongue back in your mouth and smile

a little.”

A nervous laugh escaped Farrah, and she couldn’t help

but glance at Barrett.

Barrett muttered, “I’d rather put my tongue in your

mouth.”

Farrah broke out in goose bumps. “Why do you think I’d

let you?”

One expressive eyebrow lifted and a smile emerged at

last. Still in that low, sexy voice, she answered, “Because I can

smell you. You’re as turned on as I am.”

“Okay, let’s move to the bathroom where the light is set

up.” Racie breezed away, scooping a second camera off a table

as she went.

Barrett rose to her feet and extended a hand to Farrah.

“My lady?”

Easily lifted to her feet, Farrah said, just as Barrett leaned

toward her, “We can’t ruin the makeup.”

“Good thing you reminded me.” With a distinctly regretful

look in her eyes, Barrett led Farrah through the master bedroom

and into a palatial bathroom, gripping her arm tightly when

Farrah stumbled a little in the unfamiliar shoes. She wouldn’t

be able to walk twenty feet in them.

When she took in the layout for the photo shoot, Farrah

laughed. The bathtub, easily capable of holding three people,

was fi lled with white cushions.

“We’re taking a bath together, sort of?”

“That’s the idea.”

Racie posed them several ways over the next hour and

• 84 •

In Deep Waters 2

took preliminary photographs. Farrah straddling Barrett,

Barrett spooning Farrah from behind, Farrah looking as if she’d

fallen across Barrett’s lap, and so forth. Each pose included

careful arrangement of the folds of Farrah’s gown and the set

of Barrett’s shoulders.

Racie paced and muttered, mostly to herself, then

announced, “I’m liking this one so far. Let’s do a full set with

it.”

Barrett was resting back in the tub, the heels of her men’s

dress shoes up on the lip farthest from the camera, ankles

crossed and looking very devil-may-care. Farrah was on her

side, her head on Barrett’s shoulder and her dress was spread

over the cushions, exposing her legs as the dress covered

Barrett’s.

“A few little things,” Racie said. She tweaked the dress

again, then leaned over the tub to lift Farrah’s pendant from

where it had become trapped between her breasts. Racie’s

fi ngertips brushed over Farrah’s chest as she set the pendant

where it would be seen. Farrah couldn’t help but stare down

Racie’s loose-fi tting tank top. She wore no bra and the erect

nipples of dusty rose made Farrah’s mouth water. “Now don’t

move.”

The camera shutter clicked, batteries were swapped, the

lights shifted. Racie had to dab their faces with more powder

as the temperature kept going up. Farrah lost track of time.

The lighting didn’t allow for any change in the sunlight,

though it had to be early evening, and she was intensely aware

of Barrett’s pounding heart and taut body.

The suite’s doorbell rang and Racie went to answer it,

saying, “I bet that’s the room service you preordered, baby.

You two relax. I think we’re just about done.”

“Thank God,” Farrah muttered.

• 85 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Could you get off my shoulder?”

“Sorry!” Farrah wiggled around, her legs feeling stiff.

“It’s not your fault. Racie can be a real…taskmaster.”

Farrah managed to get herself onto the side of the tub.

“Do you really think we’re done?”

“I hope so, because I really want to kiss you.”

Having had the past hour to think about it, Farrah said, “Do

you make all the girls feel this way at these conventions?”

“Do you think I have a woman in every port, or something?”

Barrett looked offended.

“You’re a natural born fl irt.”

“So what if I am? And exactly how am I making you

feel?”

“I think you know.”

“I know what I want to be true.” She leaned close, her lips

only an inch from Farrah’s. “I want you to be as wet and as

aching as I am. I’ve been like this since San Antonio. Touching

you was unforgettable.”

“Barrett, stop it.” Farrah glanced nervously in the direction

of the door.

“Why?”

“Your girlfriend will be back any moment.”

Barrett’s eyes had no business crinkling with such charm.

“I certainly hope so. We play as a couple.”

Farrah’s heart nearly stopped. Not just Barrett, with the

hot, eager eyes, but sultry, sexy Racie too? They both…wanted

her?

“Racie thinks you’re confused and just need a helping

hand to show you what you really are.” Barrett brushed her

lips against Farrah’s.

Say something, Farrah thought desperately. Nice girls do

not have threesomes. Say no, that’s right, say no. Say it now.

“But I read between the lines in your love scenes, and I

• 86 •

In Deep Waters 2

think you already know what you are. You’re just afraid to live

it.”

Her voice taut with panic and excitement, Farrah asked,

“Is that supposed to goad me into saying yes?”

“I don’t want you to say yes.” Barrett undid the fi rst button

on her vest with a dexterous fl ick. “I want you to scream it.”

Racie re-entered the room, licking her fi ngers. “I’m

sorry, guys. If you eat something you’ll ruin the makeup and I

realized there’s one more pose I want. The crab dip is delicious,

and there are apricot crepes with burnt sugar.” She seemed

oblivious to the telling angles of Farrah’s and Barrett’s bodies.

“If you’ve eased those tired muscles, I want to use the sunset

lighting in the hallway. We have to move fast.”

Farrah leaned on one shoulder against the nondescript

wall where Racie pointed. After Racie fi nished fussing with

her camera, she gave Farrah one of those oh-you’reedible

looks.

“Stand here,” she practically purred, placing Farrah’s feet

a good twenty inches from the wall. “Now lean like this.” Her

hands were warm and fi rm.

The position, with her shoulders fl at against the cold

wallpaper, was awkward, requiring her to bend backward at

an extreme angle.

It got less awkward when Barrett’s thigh was pressed

between her legs to hold her up. One arm supported her back,

requiring Barrett to lean into her, their faces only inches

apart.

“That’s fantastic.” Racie’s shoulders and neck were

fl ushed by the time she had Barrett posed to her satisfaction.

She snatched up her camera. “Your bodies are in the light, your

faces in shadow—this will be a totally hot black and white

shot. It’s just like the covers of all our books, the big clinch.”

Farrah could feel Barrett’s heartbeat against her breasts. It

• 87 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

was all she could do not to rub herself on the hard thigh. Aware

that Racie might be able to hear her, she dropped her voice as

low as possible. “You weren’t making it up, were you?”

“Making what up?”

“That you both…you know.”

“Play? No, it’s the truth.” If anything, Barrett leaned

closer. “Racie is so turned on right now I’m surprised she can

focus her camera. But she always manages. She’s all about the

visual, and you are so wicked hot.”

“I don’t—why? Why me?” Farrah realized she was

stammering like a teenager.

“Damn, woman. You’re intelligent, you’re funny, you’re

incredibly sexy. Of all the characters you write, the ones who

ring the truest are the good girls with a wildcat in their soul.

Do you think all those hot-for-Farrah posts on the fan lists

are just fl attery? If I were a guy I’d have a hard-on the size of

Montana around you.”

“Barrett.” Farrah breathed out the name, knowing she had

wanted to say it for a long time.

“I’m not a guy, but right now my clit feels like the size

of Montana.” With a little growl, she pushed her thigh more

fi rmly between Farrah’s legs.

“Perfect,” Racie said. “Just like that.” She circled them

slowly for several minutes, camera whirring.

Finally, Racie put the camera down, then approached them.

Farrah expected more posing, though it seemed to her that the

shadows were getting long and low for any more photos. Racie

had gotten all the desert’s summer sunset could give.

Leaning in to look at Barrett, Racie said, “Now I think

you should kiss her.”

Farrah gasped.

• 88 •

In Deep Waters 2

“God knows, I want to. But it’s up to Farrah.” In spite of

her words, Barrett buried her lips into the hollow of Farrah’s

throat.

Racie’s lips were at Farrah’s ear. “I know you want her.

It’s okay. I love her, and I love watching her.”

Farrah struggled to fi nd her voice as Barrett nuzzled at her

other ear.

“I’m a visual person,” Racie went on. “When she’s

making love to me I can’t watch her the same way. So I watch

her with other women and it’s incredible. I get to enjoy all her

beautiful strength, I get to see every nuance of her body when

she comes, and I still get to be in her bed, too. I get it all.”

“You dressed me for her.” Farrah didn’t resist the fi rm

glide of Barrett’s thigh against her very wet cunt.

Racie’s tongue fl icked her earlobe as Barrett slid slowly

to her knees. “No, I dressed you so you’d look like the hot,

sensual woman you are. And I dressed you for me. She would

just as soon we were naked.”

The heat of Barrett’s mouth pressing through the fabric of

the dress nearly buckled Farrah’s knees. Racie groaned in her

ear and one elegant, long-fi ngered hand caressed Farrah’s bare

shoulder, then moved to her breast.

“Barrett,” Farrah managed to moan. Her head said it was

too much, too sudden, but her body had decided that making

up for lost time was imperative. She arched harder against

Barrett’s mouth as Racie pulled the dress downward to bare

Farrah’s breasts.

“Perfect,” Racie breathed. Her hand came back to caress

and tease Farrah’s nipples while Barrett seemed intent on

biting through Farrah’s dress.

Racie leaned away just enough to look down at Barrett.

• 89 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Farrah saw the ardent appreciation in Racie’s eyes at the sight

of her lover, abandoned in passion. With a fl uid motion, Racie

pulled her tank top over her head, leaving low-rider jeans

clasped around her narrow hips. With deliberate quickness,

she wound her fi ngers into Barrett’s thick hair and pulled her

away from Farrah—pulled her away to turn her head and bring

her mouth to the crotch of the jeans.

“That’s right, baby.” Racie went up on her tiptoes as she

rubbed herself on Barrett’s mouth. “Two women to satisfy

tonight.”

Farrah realized she’d never said yes, but who was she

kidding? She was so full and slippery she could feel wetness

trickling down her thighs.

Barrett reared back with a deep groan. She scrambled

to her feet then kissed Racie on the mouth, hard. In the next

moment, she swept Farrah into her arms, carried her to the

living room, and fi nally spread her out on the round sofa.

It was like a stage, Farrah thought, pleasing to Racie’s eye.

The drama wasn’t lost on her, either. Barrett was a study in

lines and angles, Racie in dark planes and muscle. She added

pale curves. Barrett circled the sofa to caress fi rst Farrah’s

calves, then her shoulders.

Watching Barrett prowl around her made Farrah dizzy. It

took her a moment to realize that the hands pushing her dress

out of the way were Racie’s. Barrett circled the sofa again, to

cup the back of Racie’s head and guide her into Farrah’s cunt.

“Does that feel good?” Barrett leaned over to brush her

lips over Farrah’s panting mouth. “You’re so beautiful to

watch. So is she.”

The sinuous tongue was stroking places only Farrah’s

fi ngers had touched for years. All the build up, all the

fantasizing had her on the edge of climax within seconds.

• 90 •

In Deep Waters 2

She jerked against Racie’s mouth when Barrett tugged on her

nipples. Her restraint was gone; there was no reason to deny

what she wanted. She shredded the lie of Farrah Fotheringay

in her mind and grabbed Barrett by the waist of her pants.

“Please,” she said. “You don’t know how long it’s been,

please.”

Barrett stripped, and she was gorgeous, a body like a god

that Farrah appreciated for the few seconds it took to pull

Barrett onto the sofa. “Kiss me,” she pleaded.

Barrett covered her lips in a heated rush, and Farrah pushed

her tongue hard into the eager, welcoming mouth, realizing as

she did so that she was matching the motion of Racie’s tongue

doing the same thing to Farrah’s cunt.

“Damn,” Barrett said against Farrah’s lips. “Damn, it’s as

good as I thought it would be.”

“Kiss me again.” Farrah lost herself in Barrett’s mouth

while the pleasure between her legs grew unbearable. She

bucked against Racie and Barrett’s grip on her tightened.

“That’s right, that’s right, come for her.”

Farrah struggled not to burst into tears. Racie’s mouth felt

that wonderful, her tongue that intense.

Barrett shifted to hold Farrah in place as she writhed in

response to Racie. Farrah turned her head to fi nd one erect

nipple. She bit down, then sucked it into her mouth, drunk

on Barrett’s earthy groan blending with Racie’s appreciative

gasps. The two of them had unleashed her. She shoved her

hand between Barrett’s legs.

Barrett’s elbows buckled as she pushed her cunt against

Farrah’s fi ngers. “Damn, woman, let me catch my breath.”

“No,” Farrah said. She curved her fi ngers, opening

Barrett. “If you thought I would be a passive plaything, you

were wrong.”

• 91 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Racie fi nally raised her head from between Farrah’s

thighs. “Yes, just like that. Fuck her. Just do it. That’s how she

likes it.”

Barrett made a choked noise as Farrah pushed roughly

inside her.

“Get me out of this dress,” Farrah said to Racie, even as

she twisted around to get a better angle. Racie fi ddled with the

zipper, then pulled the dress off, discarding her own jeans as

well.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” Racie ran her hands over

Barrett’s body. “You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

Barrett nodded desperately.

Farrah whispered, “Please open your eyes.”

Barrett’s gaze was unfocused when she did as Farrah

asked. The just-a-bit-dangerous woman had disappeared,

leaving a vulnerable one behind.

“It’s okay,” Farrah said. “We’ve got you.” She rolled to

Barrett’s side, her hand sliding even deeper. With her other

arm she pulled Barrett close, cradling her.

“I know how long you’ve wanted her,” Racie said. “It’s

okay, baby. God, I know you’re this way with me, but I’ve

never been able to watch you with a strong femme before.

You’re so strong, too, Barrett, honey…I love the way your

back arches. It’s okay, you can let go with her.”

Barrett’s groan was long and loud as Racie draped herself

along her back.

Farrah bit Barrett’s lower lip. “Do you like being a femme

sandwich?”

After an explosive exhale, Barrett said between gritted

teeth, “Fuck, yes.”

Farrah no longer questioned if she ought to be enjoying

herself, she only knew that she was. Racie’s fi ngers were

playing near where her own were plunging in and out of

• 92 •

In Deep Waters 2

Barrett, then Racie replaced her, reaching in from behind, and

Farrah’s slick touch concentrated on Barrett’s rock hard clit.

Barrett panted into Farrah’s shoulder, near climax but able

to laugh between gasps for breath. “How did I get to be in the

middle?”

“We put you there, baby.” Racie kissed the back of

Barrett’s neck.

“Because we want to take turns fucking you.” Farrah

licked the notch in Barrett’s collarbone.

With a guttural cry, Barrett jerked helplessly between

them. When she fi nally went limp, her face was buried between

Farrah’s breasts.

“That’s not exactly what I thought would happen fi rst,”

she muttered.

“I’m pleased,” Racie said. She looked at Farrah over

Barrett’s head.

“So am I.” Farrah inclined her head and Racie leaned

toward her so their lips could meet. Soft, sensuous, delicious.

“And you can take my picture anytime.”

Racie laughed into their kiss, then ended it by licking

Farrah’s lips. Barrett stretched in between them, her arms

slipping around Farrah’s waist.

“It feels wonderful to hold you like this at last,” she said.

Farrah couldn’t help it—she glanced at Racie to make

sure it was okay.

Racie smiled reassuringly. “You don’t put wild things in

cages, and that’s how I’ve managed to hold on to her.”

“And vice versa,” Barrett murmured.

“I think that means I’m just happy to be out of my cage,”

Farrah said. “That I’m with two incredible women is like

frosting on the cake.”

Racie kissed her again, at fi rst with a smile, but it faded.

“She’s not the only one who has wanted to hold you. We read

• 93 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

your books together. You talk about women, how they feel, the

way that Barrett does. She does amazing things to me and I’m

thinking you will as well.”

Farrah shivered, and a luxurious feeling of letting go of all

pretense washed over her. She melted into Barrett’s embrace,

her head half resting on Racie’s shoulder. Tomorrow was a

long way away. For tonight, she felt free.

• 94 •

In Deep Waters 2

LUCKY 7

Karin Kallmaker

Finally!” Tess threw her arms around Brandy the

moment the hotel room door was closed. “We’re on a

real vacation, and together!”

Brandy tackled Tess and they landed on the bed with a

delightful mashing of breasts and thighs.

After a long, delicious kiss, Tess stretched out in Brandy’s

arms. “What do you want to do fi rst?”

“I thought I was making that clear,” Brandy said. “Am I

losing my touch or something?”

Tess bit the tip of one of Brandy’s fi ngers. “Later.”

“Why not now and then later?”

“Because later I won’t be distracted by thoughts of

blackjack and poker because I’ll have played some by later.”

Brandy laughed. “Okay, I see where I am in your

priorities.” Later was better, anyway. She had a little surprise

for her lover.

• 95 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Happily getting into the groove of Las Vegas, Brandy

returned from the video poker machines to fi nd Tess exactly

where she had left her, frowning over her blackjack cards. The

dealer was a gorgeous black woman who was either a dyke

or just really fond of women, because Tess’s cleavage was

getting plenty of attention. Well, someone would have to be

dead and buried not to notice Tess. There were actually an

amazing number of really beautiful women in the casino, but

none held a candle to Tess.

“Hit me,” Tess said. She gasped as the card came down.

“Twenty-one!”

The dealer paid her off as Tess backed away from the

table. “Taking the money and running?”

“I’ve just paid for our vacation.” Tess fl ipped a chip back

to the dealer. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” The dealer pocketed the chip with a wink

and Tess dragged Brandy across the casino to the cashier. “Let’s

get the cash before I change my mind. I’m lucky tonight.”

And you’re going to get lucky, Brandy wanted to say, but

that would be a cheap joke and she was trying to be more

subtle these days. They were now gainfully employed tour

guides with the most successful lesbian tour group. Though

their clientele could appreciate the occasional really bawdy

joke, she was trying to learn some restraint.

“What shall we do for dinner?”

Tess turned from the cashier with a fi stful of twenties.

“Well, whatever it is, dinner’s on me.”

A group of fast-moving women in sensible shoes jostled

Brandy into Tess, not that Brandy minded. “I heard it was an

open bar,” one said to the others, and if anything, their speed

increased.

• 96 •

In Deep Waters 2

“How about dinner in that dark little place on the

mezzanine?”

“Sounds delightful,” Tess said. They were on the elevator,

holding hands, when she added, “You’ve got quite the cat in

the cream look.”

Brandy shrugged, hoping she looked debonair and

mysterious.

“Okay.” Tess caught one of the male passengers looking

at them. She gave up one of her mega-wattage smiles. “I’m

going to get lucky tonight.”

The women behind them spluttered with laughter. Brandy

glanced over her shoulder—oh, dykes if they were a day old,

and they were. One was no taller than she was, which was

welcome, and the other was yet another gorgeous creature, tall

and lithe, and about as well endowed as Tess. She gave the

short one a solidarity wink, as they were both unquestionably

lucky dogs.

The woman winked back as if to say, “Yeah, we both

married up, didn’t we?”

“Our fl oor, Marian.” With a smile at them both, the taller

woman pulled her girlfriend after her into the corridor. “If

you’re done fl irting with the other cute little butch.”

“I was not fl irting, Liddy, it was—”

The doors closed and Brandy wondered if she was, in fact,

giving off a butch vibe these days. She’d always considered

herself on the girly side for butch, though she despised handbags

and required pockets in all her clothes. She could don a little

black dress and heels and not feel the least bit weird. Not that

she was going to wear that tonight. She had other plans.

When she put the harness on the bed, Tess said, “I thought

we were going to dinner.”

“We are.”

“Oh.”

• 97 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Do you like that idea?”

“Is that why you suggested the dark little place?”

“Yeah.”

Tess planted a huge kiss on her. “I really am going to get

lucky tonight, aren’t I?”

“I’m the lucky one, baby.” Brandy kissed her back.

“You say the sweetest things.”

“And that’s not all.” Brandy reached into her suitcase and

withdrew the surprise. “Happy anniversary.”

“It’s not our anniversary—oh wow. That’s…wow.”

The toy was heavy and thick and long, the largest that

Good Vibes carried. Tess was a size queen and Brandy loved

fi nding new ways to make her eyes roll back in her head. “You

like?”

“I think I’m going to like, yes.” Tess’s tongue darted over

her lips and Brandy thought it was highly likely that Tess’s

beautiful little clit had just put on a party hat and grabbed the

maracas. “How on earth are you going to hide that in your

pants?”

“Those baggy gangster pants you hate.”

“Is that why you brought them? I love those pants now.”

Tess was still staring at the toy. “I like that shade of pink,

too.”

“Thought you might.”

“It’s still not our anniversary.”

“Sure it is. We’ve been together four years, fi ve months

and thirteen days.”

“I love you.” Tess gave the new toy one last fond look.

“I’ll just go get dressed.”

Brandy fi ddled with the harness and fi nally got Lucky

7—as good a name as any—into the O-ring. It was a bit of

a pushing, pulling, rolling challenge, but it all sorted out and

she set about getting into the harness. She still felt silly in the

• 98 •

In Deep Waters 2

thing at such times. Never silly when she was actually going to

get into bed with Tess, but wiggling around, dancing in circles

trying to pull her pants up and the toy catching on everything,

well it wasn’t debonair.

After a one-legged Watusi, she fi nally had the pants belted

around her waist. It really felt weird. She adjusted the pants on

her hips, wriggled until the toy hung down one leg. Then she

realized why it felt weirder than she’d expected.

She’d forgotten to put on the boxers. She didn’t intend to

go out of the room without some kind of underwear on—

Tess came out of the bathroom.

Breathe, Brandy told herself. Tess was a vision in a very

short aquamarine dress studded with copper beading. The

halter neck made Tess look even taller.

“I take it from the look on your face that you like this

dress?”

Brandy nodded. She had just about found her voice when

Tess turned around. Her bare back put Brandy back into the

Land of No Breath. The high neck clasped with a twist of

beads that dangled along Tess’s spine. Undo the beads, Brandy

thought, and she’d be naked in seconds.

All for you, you incredibly lucky dog.

She watched Tess put on her favorite sandals. They

weren’t made for walking, and had, in fact, never been out of

their apartment.

Tess looked up when she’d fastened the last buckle.

“Ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

“Oh! Crap.” Brandy blushed furiously. “That dress is a

walking crime.”

“I just got it this morning. There was a guy selling dresses

out of the back of his van. I only noticed because he had quite

• 99 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

a crowd. Twenty bucks. I fi gured out later he was there to sell

stuff to the escort service workers.” She gave Brandy a worried

look. “I don’t look like I’m for sale, do I?”

“I will make it plain you’ve already been spoken for.”

Tess gave her one of those serious looks that said they

would talk about the subject again.

“You don’t look cheap or available for the asking, darling.”

Brandy tucked in her shirt. “You look like the gorgeous, classy

creature you are. Not to mention young and attractive.”

“You found that gray hair the other day, remember?”

Was that still bothering her? Dunce, Brandy scolded herself.

Next time don’t point it out. “That was sun streaking.”

“If you say so.”

“How about this?” Brandy balled her fi sts on her hips and

walked toward Tess like Yul Brynner’s King of Siam. “Go out

with me, and everyone will know you’re mine.”

“You look magnifi cent.”

Brandy dropped the attitude. “No, really. Can you see it?

Does it show?”

Tess hesitated. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, what does it matter? Nobody is going to be looking

at me.”

Brandy repeated that to herself all the way to the restaurant.

Of course it felt like the entire world was staring at her crotch.

They were quickly seated and decided to share what turned

out to be a wonderful apple and pecan salad, and a perfect

steak with parmesan chips. Brandy enjoyed every moment of

watching Tess sparkle in the candlelight. Her best friend, her

lover—all the beauty in their relationship was on Tess’s side of

the table, as were most of the brains.

They shared dessert as well, and Brandy found herself a

little disappointed. “Your brownies are better than this one.”

“It looks like chocolate,” Tess said. “But I don’t taste it.”

• 100 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Kind of like cruise ship chocolate. Remember, I told you

about the food on the boat?”

“And you told me about nearly being borrowed by that

hot butch.”

Brandy grinned and shrugged. “She was awfully cute. But

I really missed you, and I was thinking about your ankle and

how you must be so sorry to be forced to sit at home. I know

you wouldn’t have minded if she’d borrowed me for a night,

but….” Brandy hadn’t been able to admit to Tess that she’d

backed out because she’d realized that nobody could touch

her, reach into her, the way Tess did. The okay-to-be-borrowed

rule was Tess’s, even if neither of them had used it so far.

She didn’t want to mess up a really good thing by appearing

possessive all of a sudden.

Tess took her hand, her expression turned serious again,

and Brandy wondered what was bothering her. There was

something, but she trusted Tess would bring it up. Tess wasn’t

afraid to talk about anything, and Brandy had already unlearned

many bad habits of resentful silence and passive-aggressive

fi ghting that she’d picked up from her dysfunctional family.

All Tess said was, “I have a Snickers bar in my suitcase.

We could go back to the room for dessert.”

“Oh, I’m having dessert in our room, most defi nitely.”

For just a moment, Brandy didn’t feel awkward as she shifted

in her chair suggestively. Tess’s quick little exhale was quite

gratifying.

The check paid and their intentions declared, they were

back in the elevator when a crowd of curvy, slinky, highheeled, coiffed and elaborately made-up women of all heights

and colors crowded on with them.

“I want to dance all night,” a bright-eyed Latina said.

“Our own private disco, in the penthouse.”

“Who has the invitation?”

• 101 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

The Latina made eye contact with Tess. “Do I know you

from somewhere?”

Tess shrugged. “Probably from around.”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

Tess tucked Brandy’s hand under her arm. “Yep.”

“She looks really happy to see you.”

Brandy blushed to the roots of her hair. All the women were

giving her the once-over now. “I’m always happy to see her.”

“Lucky her,” the Latina said. “Maybe I’ll get a dance

later?”

“We’re not—” Brandy realized they’d missed their fl oor.

The doors opened to a blast of music and the women poured

out of the elevator with delighted whoops. The security guard

looked helpless as they pushed past him.

Caught up in the rush, Brandy found herself jostled along

to the parquet dance fl oor that had been laid out in the suite’s

living room. It was packed with women, some of whom

weren’t wearing much, not that Brandy minded.

“Do you want to stay?”

“Why not?” Tess tucked her little purse down Brandy’s

capacious front pocket. “Dance with me, baby.”

It was heaven. They hadn’t been on vacation in so long,

and even when they did get to dance, they were almost always

still on the clock—being a tour guide meant there was no

“off.”

She swayed in Tess’s arms, pulling her close, and closer

still. Other women were making out as the music pulsed around

them, so Brandy felt perfectly natural pulling Tess down to her

for the fi rst of a dozen long, luscious kisses.

“You always wind me up,” Tess said. “I’m so torn. I

want to dance all night with you, but I also want to…” Her

hand moved between them and Brandy shuddered as she felt

• 102 •

In Deep Waters 2

Tess gripping the toy through her pants. “What a wonderful

dilemma.”

“Just because we’re getting older and wiser doesn’t mean

we have to be silly.” Brandy took Tess by the hand, leading her

away from the dance fl oor.

“If we leave we might not be able to get back in.”

Brandy veered past the impromptu bar. Where there was

a penthouse there had to be bedrooms. Before Tess, she’d had

women in the fi tness room storage closet, behind the pool

house, once even on the back of a Sea-Doo. Sneaking into a

bedroom for a not-so-quickie was positively tame.

“Oh, you are in a mood tonight, aren’t you?” Tess didn’t

seem the least bit displeased when she fi gured out what Brandy

was thinking.

The fi rst door was locked, the second revealed another

couple with the same idea. If they were even aware of the door

opening, they didn’t show it. A third bedroom was equally

occupied, and the bathroom was usable only if one could ignore

the noises coming from behind the glass shower doors.

Brandy sighed with frustration.

“Over here,” Tess said. She pulled Brandy behind a not all

that large potted palm.

“Baby, anyone can see us.”

“Ask yourself who here is going to arrest us?”

Brandy’s pulse reached a boil. “I see your point. So I’ll

fuck you right here?”

For an answer, Tess gave her a slack-jawed look and undid

the neck of her dress. In moments it was puddled around her

ankles.

“Baby.” Brandy was stunned. Tess was in one of her

moods, and she loved those moods, but this was more than…

beyond even… She might have stood there, mouth hanging

• 103 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

open, but fortunately a little voice inside her shouted, “Shut up

and fuck her, you idiot!”

Brandy unzipped. “All for you.”

“Now,” Tess said, spreading her legs.

It felt like the fi rst time all over again. Tess made a sound

that had Brandy’s head spinning. She pushed harder, paused

when Tess reached down. “Is it okay? Damn, I forgot the

lube.”

“It’s fi ne, just something…there. Oh fuck, yes, Brandy,

please.”

Tess’s hands went down the back of Brandy’s pants,

squeezing and massaging Brandy’s bare ass. The surge of

erotic adrenaline drove every other thought out of her head.

She bit Tess’s neck and fucked her. Held on, fucked her,

lived all their nights and days over again, felt that electric

current of memories that culminated in the promise of a future

that went on like this, full of love and passion and play—

fucked her through her fi rst climax, knew there would be a

second, and relished that knowledge. She loved this woman,

loved being with her, and knowing her body the way she did

only deepened the magic.

Tess said her name, gorgeous in her abandonment. “Don’t

stop.”

“You know I won’t.”

“Damn it, it’s fi lling me up, Brandy, you know,

please…”

Their words danced back and forth, no pattern or reason

anyone else would understand, but four years and more of

working on their own language meant Brandy knew Tess

wanted hard, deep, steady strokes now, then short ones, softer

while she hovered on the edge of climax again. She listened,

heard the sharp whimpers. She pinned Tess to the wall and

• 104 •

In Deep Waters 2

fucked her, hard, fast, relentlessly, and Tess came again, words

and little noises all jumbled together.

They drifted in each other’s arms on the dance fl oor, Tess

covered, Brandy zipped.

“That was incredibly fun.”

“It was,” Brandy agreed. “Want to do it again?”

“In our room. In just a little while.” Tess ground against

Brandy with no rhythm that matched the music, and it was

perfect.

A woman paused next to them as they swayed. Brandy

recognized the attractive Latina from the elevator. With a

direct look at Tess, she said, “Mind if I cut in?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Tess arched one eyebrow at the

woman that plainly said, “Go away.”

“Sorry. I know you already got some of what she’s

packing, and you may have noticed that she’s the only one.

But if you’re not sharing, that’s cool.”

“She’s not for borrowing.”

The woman shrugged expressively and walked away.

Brandy looked up at Tess, not exactly confused, but feeling

like she wasn’t sure why Tess had put it quite that way.

For a moment, Tess wouldn’t meet her gaze, but then she

did with her serious, open expression that Brandy had always

found brave and wise. But at the moment it was tinged with

chagrin.

“I didn’t even ask you if you wanted—”

“I didn’t,” Brandy assured her. “I really didn’t and I don’t.

You’re right. I’m not for—”

“I want to make it permanent,” Tess said, all in a rush.

• 105 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Are you sure?” Brandy’s heart melted in her chest.

“No borrowing. No sharing. Just us. I want to be yours.”

Tess kissed her softly. “And I want you to be mine.”

“Yes.” Brandy kissed her back, then nuzzled at the pulse

point of Tess’s throat.

“I know it’ll be the same old, same old, boring and…”

Tess’s voice trailed away.

Brandy stepped back to give her an incredulous look.

“You’re kidding, right? Boring? You?”

Tess shrugged a big fat it-really-doesn’t-bother-me lie.

It was no time to be shy.

“You just let me fuck you in public, you got naked for

me to do it, and we’ve done a lot of things, but that was the

hottest so far, and if you think I’ll ever be bored with your

body, you’re crazy, and right now I want to take you back to

our room and do about fi ve hours worth of the sameold-sameold, until we’re both sore and exhausted and this new, very

lucky toy, is worn down to a nub. Then I’m going to get out the

lube so I can fuck you again because the favorite thing I love

to hear you say is ‘honey, I’m done’ and that’s what I live for,

Tess, that’s what I want, you, in my bed because you are every

woman all in one, and I love you.”

Brandy ran out of breath. Tess blinked tears out of her eyes.

Several women nearby had paused in their dancing, openly

smiling. Brandy ducked her head in embarrassment.

“Time to go.”

Tess didn’t protest. She tucked her hand under Brandy’s

arm and nodded.

Once in the elevator, Tess slid her hand down Brandy’s

arm to intertwine their fi ngers. “Know what?”

Brandy risked a look and found Tess gazing at her with

eyes like stars. “What?”

“I think today really is our anniversary. From now on.”

• 106 •

In Deep Waters 2

TOP-BOTTOM TICKET

Karin Kallmaker

Are you Harmony Kincaid?” A woman with a

shock of short red hair paused at the open offi ce

door, looking fl ushed and nervous. “The Harmony

Kincaid, Assistant Director of Convention Services and She

Who Makes All Happen?”

Harmony immediately knew who it had to be. The hair,

wire-rimmed glasses, and gamine smile fi t the description of

the one person she’d been hoping to see since yesterday. “Yes.

And you’re Leona Madsen, Meeting Planner Extraordinaire.

Come in. I can’t believe it’s fi nally the big weekend.”

She’s as cute as I thought she’d be, Harmony told herself.

A million words in e-mails for the last fourteen months to set

up the International Librarian Association’s convention had

let her form an impression of her primary contact. They’d

never exchanged photos, but over time personal details, like

Leona’s needing a trim of her short cut every four weeks

• 107 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

and Harmony’s euphoria over a steal on a new pair of shoes,

had leaked into their correspondence. Leona sent links to

quizzes and personality tests and Harmony forwarded online

questionnaires. She knew quite a lot about Leona, in an odd

way, for someone she’d never met.

“I’ve been going fl at out since we got here. I meant to

stop in yesterday to see you, but your minions are many and

effi cient. It was non-stop till I dropped.” Leona set a heavy

satchel bulging with papers on the fl oor. “But I’ve fi nally got

a break.”

“Well, so far the staff loves librarians.” Harmony got up

from her desk to perch on the edge closest to Leona. It was

friendlier and she could go on studying the fascinating reality of

the woman she’d been talking with for over a year online. God,

she was cute, all cherub. “I’m told they read their materials,

show up to sessions on time, leave their rooms long enough

so they can be cleaned, and they drink more than fi refi ghters.

Apparently they’re too smart to play keno, though.”

“That’s my people!” Leona smiled brightly. “They’re

really a fun bunch, and I have to say, it’s all about information

with them. Access to information. Equal access for everybody.

Books especially, but maps and notes and—sorry.” Leona

grinned. “For someone who isn’t a librarian, I can get all

worked up about it. I like doing their meeting planning.”

“How long is your break? Can I take you to lunch?”

Harmony glanced at the clock on her desk. She could sneak

off for an hour now that she didn’t have to cover for Jennifer

at the VIP checkin.

“I’ve got about thirty minutes.” Leona relaxed in the chair,

and Harmony realized Leona hadn’t yet really looked her in

the eyes, as if she was nervous.

Well, she was nervous, too. They’d been mostly businesslike during their correspondence, especially on their company

• 108 •

In Deep Waters 2

e-mail addresses, but their hair had come down, so to speak,

a little bit in the last month or two, when details grew

overwhelming and Leona had been working night and day and

at times resorted to her personal e-mail when the work server

was unavailable. During the past twelve months they’d both

gone through a break up, agreed that women could be shits, in

the last month shared that dating wasn’t really a priority, and

then last week…

“I need to ask you something,” Leona said abruptly. “I

was, um… I e-mailed that stack of beverage order documents

last week? And…”

Harmony wished Leona would look at her. “Do you mean

that, um, word processing document I’m not sure you meant

to enclose?”

“Did you read it?” Leona’s cheeks fl amed with color.

“Yes. Every last word.” Harmony squirmed slightly on

the desk. No girlfriend for months now, and a red-hot erotic

story in her inbox had been too hard to resist. “I didn’t want to

embarrass you by telling you I’d gotten it in error.”

Leona fi nally looked up. “It wasn’t a mistake. I wanted

you to know.”

Harmony’s corporate uniform was suddenly way too tight.

“That you like to read erotica? Who doesn’t?”

The blush was still very present, but the bright brown eyes

were dancing. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah. Um, well, I’m not sure how you knew I liked that

kind of story.”

“Little things you said—especially after what’s her name

dumped you for that little bitch. Sex was the only decent thing

you had left, and you predicted her new girlfriend would end

up rather disappointed if she thought she was getting a hardcore top. Ergo, you were disappointed that she hadn’t been

that for you.”

• 109 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Harmony fl ushed. She hadn’t realized she’d revealed

her predilections quite so clearly. She went for a distraction.

“They broke up last week—a friend told me yesterday. I feel

vindicated. This time what’s her name got dumped, and for a

guy.”

“Ouch.” Leona grinned.

“I suppose that’s not very evolved of me, delighting in her

misfortunes.”

“She fell for someone else and then went around saying

you’d cheated on her.”

“Oh yeah.” Harmony laughed—she was nearly over it.

Nearly. “I knew I hated her for a good reason.”

Leona slid down in the chair slightly and crossed her

ankles. “So I got the story right?”

Harmony swallowed. “Why do you want to know?”

Leona took a deep breath. The expression on her face

transformed from a cherubic teddy bear to a sensual dyke

whose gaze slowly caressed every inch of Harmony’s body.

“You have made me laugh every day, sometimes several

times a day, for the past year and more. Because ultimately,

we want the same things out of life, remember? You sent that

fi fty-things-your-friends-don’t-know questionnaire that was

making the rounds. I read yours, carefully.” She undid the top

button of her pristine white shirt. “And most of all, because

I’m likely a better top than your ex, and you deserve being

made to feel very, very good.”

“Oh…” Harmony couldn’t think of another thing to say.

She’d pored over Leona’s answers to every test, but tried to

tell herself it was all about business, thoroughly knowing the

person she was working with, even if all by e-mail.

“So I wrote you that story.”

“You wrote that?”

“Yes.” Leona smiled. “For you.”

• 110 •

In Deep Waters 2

Details of the story—she’d read it at least a dozen times—

burst into her memory like fi reworks. It had been exactly the

kind of scene she’d always wanted. “None of your quizzes or

tests hinted that you were a writer.”

“I write only for myself. And, well, for you.”

“I’m honored.” Harmony felt heat fl are in her face.

“So,” Leona persisted. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it.” Harmony didn’t look down, but she was

pretty sure her suit jacket didn’t hide the fact that her nipples

had just gotten very hard.

Leona smiled, and her gaze once again swept over

Harmony’s body. “Does your offi ce door lock?”

Oh, fuck, Harmony thought. That’s how the story started.

She nodded.

“Do whatever it is you do to tell people you’ve gone to

lunch. Then lock the door.”

Her hand shaking, Harmony forwarded her calls to voice

mail, then put the inter-offi ce away message on her computer

for anyone who was looking for her. “Off hook for thirty”

meant she was not reachable, and the next person in charge

should deal with whatever the problem was if it was urgent.

She only went off hook once a month, perhaps, but never for

such a heart-pounding reason.

She dimmed the offi ce lights that were visible through the

transom over the doorway. Then she locked the door.

“Come here.” Leona held out one hand.

Harmony knew without asking that she should straddle

Leona’s lap. She had to pull her suit skirt all the way up to do

it, revealing her thighs.

“That was number twentyfour—nobody knows you like

wearing garters and hose,” Leona said. “They’re incredibly

sexy.” She ran her hands along the inside of Harmony’s thighs.

“Very lovely.”

• 111 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Harmony settled on Leona’s lap and felt the bulge

immediately. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before.

“I had it tucked,” Leona said, as if Harmony had spoken.

“I put it on in that handy bathroom just down the hall. Look

at me.”

Shivering, Harmony felt herself falling completely under

Leona’s spell.

“You’re a bottom, and you’re suggestible. You said as

much in your answers to that what’s-your-porn-star-identity

test. I know I am pushing your buttons. Is it okay?”

Harmony nodded. She couldn’t have formed the word

no to save her life at that moment. She didn’t know why she

experienced sex this way, and she’d gotten hurt far too often,

but sometimes it was glorious. Sometimes…maybe this time.

“Is it okay that we do this here? Are you going to get

fi red? I’m a top, but that doesn’t mean I get to be destructive

in your personal life and expect you to accept it. Being a top,

to me, is not about hurting you, it’s about protecting you.”

“You can’t tell anyone we did it here. Ever.” She’d never

let a business contact get under her skin this way, and Leona

was under her skin, deeper even than that. A stranger, but not.

A friend, but not. She’d made mistakes in the past about whom

she could trust. Las Vegas was full of users. “I don’t care if

they know we fooled around, but not—”

“I’m not your ex. I won’t be reckless with your reputation.

Why would I tell someone else how vulnerable you are, and

risk them fi guring out what it took me a year to put together?

No way, not when I want to be more to you than the hot, quick

fuck we’re about to have.”

“Oh. Oh, my.”

“That is, if you say yes.”

All those e-mails, a dozen a day, short jokes, long,

intense presentations of her position on some fi ne point of

• 112 •

In Deep Waters 2

the hospitality contract, articulate, but never mean. Harmony

dealt with a lot of people who thought resolution was achieved

by yelling and insults. Leona had always been respectful of

Harmony’s position representing the hotel, even when they’d

had tense exchanges about who was paying for the fresh

fl owers in the meeting rooms, or if the beverage allowance

included mixed drinks or just wine. Discussions around

money brought out the worst in people, but Leona had never

crossed the line.

“Yes. Or no?”

Trying to take a deep enough breath to calm her nerves,

Harmony asked, “If I say no, does that mean no forever?”

“Of course not.” Leona reached halfway to Harmony’s

cheek, as if to caress her, then deliberately put her hands on the

arms of the chair. “We’ll resume this talk later, if you want to

wait. I just thought…if you liked the story, that…”

“Yes.” It came out as three syllables as Harmony failed

to conquer the quaver in her voice. She hadn’t been down this

road before.

Leona gazed into Harmony’s eyes for a long, long moment.

“I promise that the way we are right now is not going to bleed

over into who we have to be when the lights go on again, when

you unlock the door.”

Harmony wondered how Leona had known she needed to

hear that. “Yes,” she said more steadily.

Without a pause, Leona said, “Then take out my cock.”

Her breath started coming in little gasps all over again.

Harmony managed the button, the zipper, then reached inside.

Leona’s thighs were wet, lord she’s as excited as I am, Harmony

thought. She freed the warm silicone and greedily rubbed the

tip against her panties, brushing her clit.

Leona helped Harmony slide out of her suit jacket,

folding it neatly before resting it carefully across her satchel.

• 113 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Harmony couldn’t stop herself from shifting and grinding in

Leona’s lap.

“Do you have another pair of pants? I’m going to get

yours all wet.”

“I have that covered. Don’t worry.” Leona unbuttoned

Harmony’s standard-issue white business blouse, then smiled

at the decidedly non-standard bra. “That’s as lovely a sight

as those garters. The staff uniform makes you look very

professional, but I like seeing you this way.”

Harmony shuddered as Leona trailed long fi ngers over

the cups of her bra. She’d been expecting Leona’s arrival

yesterday or today, and had told herself it was only coincidence

that she’d picked out her favorite lingerie. Her heartbeat was

pulsing across her skin, responding to the simple caresses.

“Beautiful,” Leona murmured. She unhooked the front

clasp. “Show me.”

Harmony ran her hands up her tummy, hoping she was

at least a little bit coquettish, as alluring and sensual as the

woman in Leona’s story. She didn’t want to be a fantasy,

though; this was too real to her. Gazing into Leona’s eyes, she

eased her fi ngertips under the cups, slowly pulling them aside

until it was Leona who looked down.

The sound Leona made when Harmony toyed with her

nipples, then pinched them, showing how fi rmly she could be

touched, that sound conquered what little trepidation Harmony

had left.

“Thank you,” Leona whispered just before taking one red,

aching tip into her mouth.

Harmony ground down on Leona’s lap, her fi res at a full

raging roar. “You have to…” She paused to fi nd something

like coherence. “You have to tell me to be quiet.”

Leona looked up, a question in her eyes.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll scream.” That would be bad, she

• 114 •

In Deep Waters 2

wanted to add, but the deeply pleased gleam in Leona’s eyes

took her breath away, again.

“Oh goodness, you are turning into the woman I’ve been

searching for all my life.” Leona licked her lips. “Talk to me

with your eyes. Tell me what you feel by the way you move on

me. But no words, no cries, no moans.”

Harmony looked her need at Leona, saying it all.

“Lift up,” Leona said quietly, “and slide down on me. I

want to hear you taking me inside you.”

Harmony couldn’t control how loudly her heart was

beating, and she hoped that Leona understood that if she didn’t

gasp for air, she would faint. Even so, she was quiet enough, the

room still enough to hear the wet sound of Leona pulling her

panties aside, then the soft whisper of Leona’s cock parting her

folds, fi nding the place Harmony needed Leona to possess.

Leona thrust upward as if she could wait no longer to take

Harmony all the way. “Hold still. Let me.”

Harmony froze, her hands on Leona’s shoulders. Leona

pushed up again, harder then again, and again.

“Listen to you. Listen to your body loving what I’m

doing.”

Harmony nodded. She could hear it, inside and out. She

was a bottom, but that didn’t mean she craved wax or chains,

or cleaning boots with her tongue. It wasn’t about physical

compulsion or dominance; it was about someone getting into

her mind, working her brain from the inside so the outside

could do what it was doing now. Giving by taking. Yielding

every place in her by choice.

“Look at you.” Leona gasped. “You’re beautiful like this.”

Sobbing in silence, Harmony came in convulsive

explosions as Leona held back her own cry with gritted teeth.

She collapsed into Leona’s arms, her head on Leona’s shoulder

and they moved together again, slowly, rocking skin to skin.

• 115 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Finally, Leona kissed her.

“Thank you,” Harmony murmured. “I’ve never…” She

didn’t quite know what else to say. She stole a look at Leona’s

face and saw that the intense top was gone. The cherub, a little

nervous and shy, was back.

“You get it, right?” Leona said quietly. “That I want this,

but I want to see if we can have more than this, too?”

“I get it,” Harmony said. “You’ve made me laugh every

day for the past year, too. I think we’d be fools not to see if we

can do that in real life. Because if you’ve got sex and laughter,

you’ve got just about all you need.”

Leona’s arms tightened around her and she shifted just

enough to wake up Harmony’s stretched nerves and muscles

all over again. She glanced at the clock on the desk, then

realized Leona was doing the same.

The top came back. With deep pleasure, with joy, Harmony

did exactly as she was told.

“How are you going to explain what I did to your pants?”

Harmony gave Leona another sheepish look as she fastened

her bra and tried to regain her composure. She felt awed at

the depths to which she had surrendered to Leona, and yet

somehow powerful at the same time. The combination was

new and very intriguing.

“I couldn’t fi t the toy and a pair of pants into the bottom of

my satchel, so I decided honesty was the best policy.” Leona

picked up the cold cup of coffee on Harmony’s desk. “Soon as

you’re ready, you’re going to bolt for the bathroom for paper

towels.”

Harmony laughed. “Let me get my blouse tucked in.”

“You really are beautiful,” Leona said.

• 116 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Not everyone thinks so. My nose is too—”

“You’re beautiful,” Leona repeated. “Especially when

you smile. And I would really like to take you out to dinner

tonight.”

She might just mean it, Harmony thought. “Dinner before

or after that intimate buffet for one hundred and fi fty, cash bar

and slideshow A/V setup?”

“After.” Leona grinned. “Dinner and breakfast.”

“Yes.” Harmony pulled on her jacket and adjusted the

cuffs of her blouse. “There, I’m ready.”

“Here goes nothing.” Leona poured the coffee into her

lap.

Laughing, Harmony unlocked the door and hurried to the

bathroom.

• 117 •

• 118 •

In Deep Waters 2

SWITCH HANDS

Radcly f fe

Editing is such a bitch.”

Jules Montgomery pushed back from the desk in

her hotel room and rubbed her face with both hands.

The generic black plastic digital clock on the bedside table

read 7:45 p.m. She’d been working fi ve hours—fi ve hours that

felt like fi fty, and that’s exactly what she’d accomplished, fi fty

pages of edits. After twenty-seven novels, she should have

anticipated the fact that she could only manage ten pages an

hour if she was truly, seriously editing. Critically appraising

her technique, as opposed to just looking for spelling errors

and egregiously repetitive language, took time. Time she was

desperately short of. Why she had agreed to speak at this damn

conference when she knew she had a deadline in ten days

remained a mystery. Her agent would say it was because she

always overestimated her abilities, and she would counter with

the argument that she never missed a deadline or a scheduled

engagement.

• 119 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Still, alone in her hotel room on a Friday night—in Las

Vegas, no less—even she had to admit that her life of all work

and almost no play was wearing her down. No wonder she

couldn’t keep a girlfriend. No wonder she hadn’t had sex with

anyone, even a stranger, since that time three books ago that

she’d hooked up with a bookstore manager one night after a

signing. That had been an all too brief few hours that had left

her physically satisfi ed but emotionally disquieted. She had

to struggle not to ask herself, Is that all there is? She didn’t

want to believe she had nothing to look forward to except

random encounters with attractive strangers, even if her recent

experiences failed to suggest otherwise. She was, after all, a

romance writer. She believed in fate and passion and love. If

she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to write about it, not as many

times as she had.

“And this one’s not going to write itself, either.” She

grimaced at her laptop. “Or edit itself.”

She supposed she could slough off the edits for a while

and work on her presentation for the romance panel the next

afternoon, but that would be cheating. Putting together a thirty

minute talk about something she loved to discuss wasn’t nearly

the same as wringing the last drop of emotion out of every

single word on a page.

“Food. Food and a bottle of wine, and I can do anything.

Even get through the last hundred pages of this manuscript.”

Scrolling down the screen with one hand, Jules snagged

the desk phone with the other and punched in the extension

for room service from memory. One thing she loved about

traveling was room service—not just the food, but the clean

sheets and the fresh towels and the bed turned down every

night. She’d never admit it, but she enjoyed being pampered.

With the receiver tucked between her ear and shoulder, she

deleted half a sentence and retyped it without the gerund as

• 120 •

In Deep Waters 2

she listened to the phone ring. She’d have to run a search for

the word suckle and expunge it from the manuscript. Whoever

heard of a grown woman suckling anything, let alone a—

“Hello?”

Jules dragged her attention away from the screen. “Hi,

this is—”

“You’re late.”

Frowning, Jules checked the clock. A few minutes to

eight. The in-room dining menu stipulated full dinner service

until eleven, and after that, “snacks” were available all night.

If you didn’t mind paying fi ve dollars a potato chip.

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” A woman’s voice fl owed to

her, low and almost playful.

Jules hesitated. “I just wanted to order—”

“You’ve suddenly acquired a taste for something new?”

“I’m sorry?” Jules realized she was repeating herself.

Obviously, she needed an editor for more than just her

manuscripts.

“Since when do you like to give the orders?”

“I’m sorry,” Jules repeated, feeling like a parrot and not a

particularly smart one. Didn’t some of them have a vocabulary

of fi ve hundreds words? “Is this room service?”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

Silence descended and Jules realized she was supposed

to say something. Dialogue had always been her strong point,

and now she was having trouble forming whole sentences. “To

whom am I speaking?”

There, that came out nicely.

“You called me. Don’t you know?”

“Uh…” Jules cleared her throat and looked around the

room. Everything seemed perfectly normal. Just an ordinary

$900 a night suite in an opulent Las Vegas casino hotel. Her

• 121 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

shoes lay next to the bed, her trousers draped over a chair. Her

briefcase sat open next to her on the fl oor. She was barefoot in

boxers and a T-shirt, which was what she always wore when

working. Everything was exactly as it should be, except some

time in the last twelve hours she had developed a cognitive

disorder of some kind and couldn’t carry on a sensible

conversation. “I just wanted a charbroiled hamburger and a

bottle of Merlot.”

“The last time we talked you wanted me to spank you

until you came all over my silk stockings.”

“That wasn’t me,” Jules whispered. And as she said the

words, she suddenly wished it had been. She had a sudden

image of being stretched over the creamy, bare thighs of a

woman wearing a black silk camisole. A black lace bikini just

covered the woman’s shaved pussy, and black satin garters

stretched taut to the top of black silk stockings. Jules’s hard

penis nestled between the woman’s thighs. As a small hand

struck Jules’s ass sharply, she thrust downward, rubbing the

fl ushed head against smooth skin. The swift stab of pleasure

obliterated the pain and she knew with the next blow she would

explode.

Jules blinked and the image disappeared. She looked down,

almost surprised not to see an erection tenting her boxers. Her

clitoris stiffened very nicely and rubbed against the cotton of

her shorts. “I’m sorry. I have the wrong number.”

“Are you sure?”

A foot away on the desk, the screen of her computer

beckoned. She was used to escaping into other worlds, other

lifetimes, other lives. Hers was a world of shifting boundaries,

and sometimes reality was as fl uid as a keystroke.

“Aren’t you waiting for another call?” Jules asked.

The woman laughed. “He missed his chance, but the

hour’s paid for.”

• 122 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Maybe he’s trying to call right now.”

“It will do him good to be disappointed. He’s grown too

confi dent.”

“I feel sorry for him,” Jules said.

“Do you?” Surprise. Curiosity. “Why?”

“I imagine he’s been looking forward to this call all day.”

Laughter. “He’s been looking forward to it all week. I’m

on a business trip, but I made a special date with him. After he

begged.”

“Are you going to punish him for being late?”

“Oh, yes. I’m going to tell him exactly what he missed.”

The low, throaty voice washed over Jules as if hands

were skimming over her skin. She heard rapid breathing and

realized it was her own.

“Tell me,” Jules urged.

“I’ll do more than that. I’ll show you.” A pause. “Would

you like that?”

“Yes. I would.”

“Put this call on hold and take off your clothes. Then use

the handset by the bed and tell me when you’re lying down.”

Jules pushed the hold button and sat for several seconds.

She could disconnect the call and it would be all over. She

could go back to her editing. She could prepare for the next

day’s presentation. She could spend the rest of the night alone.

And she would never know the end of the story. Abruptly, she

stood and pulled off her T-shirt, pushed her boxers down, and

strode naked into the bedroom. She didn’t turn on a light, but

hurriedly picked up the phone.

“I’m here.” Jules stretched out on her back, the phone

resting on the pillow next to her ear.

“And what are you doing here?”

“I’m a writer,” Jules said. “I’m here for a conference.”

“I saw a horde of people with pens attacking several

• 123 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

women in the lobby the other day. Would one of those sought

after women be you?”

“Probably not.” Jules laughed. “I’ve signed a few

autographs, but I don’t usually incite a riot.”

“What do you write?”

“Love stories.” No, Jules thought, they’re more than that.

“Stories about women in love.”

“And sex? Do you write stories about women having

sex?”

Jules closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the

voice. Alone in the darkness, the sound of the husky tones so

very close to her ear created an intimacy that made her stomach

tingle. “Yes. I write about women having sex.”

“And you? Do you have sex with women?”

“Yes,” Jules replied, feeling strangely relaxed. Almost

languid. The room was warm and she lay naked on the sheets.

“I have sex with women.”

“And men?”

“No.” Jules thought of the man who was supposed to be

talking to this woman right now. She imagined him poised

on the other end of the phone, having anxiously waited all

week for the special call. He would be excited. Had probably

been excited for hours, watching the clock, hearing the sultry

voice in his mind, anticipating how it would feel when she

whispered to him. “Do you only do this with men?”

“Do what?”

Jules brushed her hand over her belly and felt the muscles

tense beneath her fi ngertips. Lazily, she circled her navel.

“Have these private conversations with men.”

“My clients want me to make them come. Usually they

want me to make them beg to come. Men and women are all

the same in that moment.”

“I don’t want you to make me come.” Jules bent one

• 124 •

In Deep Waters 2

leg and rested the ball of her foot against her opposite knee.

Lightly, she stroked up one thigh, over the delta between, and

down the other.

“Aren’t you excited?”

Jules tapped her fi nger lightly on her clitoris. She was

hard and swollen and she had to force her hand away. If she

started in on it now, she wouldn’t want to stop until she came.

“Yes. I am.”

“Then you must want—”

“What do you do to make them beg?”

Jules heard the woman catch her breath, as if caught off

guard. “I offer them the one thing they crave.”

“What’s that?” Jules skimmed her palm up the center of

her stomach and then over her breasts. Her nipples tingled at

the glancing caress. “What is it they want?”

“Permission. They want my permission. Permission to

take pleasure. Permission to come, no matter what it is they

need.”

“When they come, do you feel the rush?”

“Yes,” the woman said, her voice thick. “Yes, I feel it.”

“But you don’t come, do you?”

“No.”

Jules rolled her nipple between her fi ngers, harder and

faster until her clit jumped and her pelvis lifted from the bed.

“When you hang up the phone, then you make yourself come,

don’t you?”

Jules could barely make out the choked reply. “Yes.”

“It’s hard to wait, isn’t it? When you’re so hard. And so

wet.” Jules slid a fi nger over her clit and between her lips. She

was hot and thickly wet. She kept her fi ngertip pressed to the

underside of her clitoris, but didn’t caress it. The tense shaft

throbbed against the length of her fi nger. Through the phone,

she heard panting.

• 125 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

The woman had started masturbating, something she must

deny herself during those other phone calls. Even though she

wanted it. Even though she needed it. Self-denial was power,

too.

“Sometimes you come without touching yourself, even

when you don’t mean to. Even when you don’t want to.”

“Yes.” A strangled sound, half-sob, half-moan. “Are you

making your clit hard right now?”

Jules pushed down against her hand and rubbed her

clit rapidly for twenty seconds, then stopped. “No.” But she

couldn’t smother her groan.

“You’re lying,” the woman laughed breathlessly.

“I know you’re fondling your clit,” Jules countered.

“Mmm. I am. God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so big.”

“Not even when you’re making some poor guy come all

over your black silk stockings?”

“They don’t make me ache the way you do.”

Jules curled one fi nger inside and massaged the spot that

made her clit rigid. If she masturbated her clit at the same

time, she’d orgasm right away. She pressed her fi nger to the

hard core. “Ah. God.”

“What are you doing?” The woman was gasping. “Are

you making yourself come?”

“Is that what you want?” Jules’s legs strained as her body

arched off the bed.

“Yes. I want to hear you come.”

“Will that make you come?” Jules started to work her clit

between her fi ngers. Her stomach tightened and the telltale

tingling began at the base of her belly.

“It will. You know it will.”

“You don’t come for them?”

“They don’t want me to.” Her voice sounded high and

thin. “Their pleasure…oh, I’m getting closer.” She gave a

• 126 •

In Deep Waters 2

shuddering moan. “That’s what they want. Their pleasure—

not mine.”

“Ours,” Jules groaned. “I want ours. I’m coming. I’m

coming now.”

“I…I…”

A scream penetrated Jules’s awareness as she writhed and

twisted on the bed. When the last jolt of pleasure trailed away,

she fumbled for the phone. “Don’t go,” she managed to croak.

Seconds, minutes passed and only silence greeted her. Jules

pressed a hand to her stomach, still aching from the powerful

contractions. “Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sorry you let yourself come?”

“I’m not sorry you made me come.”

“I’m going to hang up soon and order that room service,”

Jules said.

Laughter, tinged with sadness.

“Will you join me?” Jules waited, utterly still.

“Should I plan on you switching hands on me again?”

Jules smiled. “I’d say that would be a safe bet.”

“Then how could I possibly refuse?”

• 127 •

• 128 •

In Deep Waters 2

DEALER’S CHOICE

Radcly f fe

So, do you two want to come in for awhile?” Monica

asked. “I’ll break out some champagne and we can

talk…or whatever.”

I looked at my wife, Sheri, because Monica was her

friend—well, work colleague, anyways—and this was Sheri’s

trip. I came along because I’d never been to Vegas and I wanted

an excuse to get out of doing yard work for a week. Besides,

Sheri and I hadn’t had a chance to really cut loose since she’d

taken the job as head librarian at the university at the same

time I decided it was a good time to start my own business.

Between the two of us, we’d been working fi fteen hour days,

six days a week, for over a year, and I couldn’t remember the

last time we had a night out that ended with us having wild sex

until the sun came up. When we fi rst got together, all-nighters,

nooners, and quickies in the shower were daily fare. It wasn’t

that we’d lost interest; we just didn’t end up in the same place

at the same time, physically or otherwise.

• 129 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

We’d had plenty of sex since we got here, but after spending

three hours in a strip club watching practically naked women

slither around the stage, I was ready for more. Still, if Sheri

wanted to spend some time with Monica and her girlfriend,

Tate, I could handle it. When Sheri was ready, I knew I would

be. I’d been pretty much ready twentyfour hours a day since

the plane touched down.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Sheri said, looking from Monica to

Tate then me.

“Fine by me,” I said gamely.

“Oh yeah, it’ll be fun.” Monica, a small, tight-bodied

brunette in a short, tight black skirt and clingy halter top, keyed

the lock and held the door open. Tate, taller than Monica by

half a head and far quieter, nodded in agreement.

Sheri took my hand, and we followed them inside. A

sofa and loveseat sat at right angles in the lounge area of their

suite. Tate sprawled on the sofa while Monica pulled bottles

out of the minibar. Sheri snuggled in my lap on the loveseat. A

minute later, Monica passed around champagne, then leaned

down and whispered something in Tate’s ear. Tate promptly

set her glass aside, got up, and left the room.

“So what did you think of the show?” Monica asked,

curling up in the corner of the sofa closest to us. I tried not

to notice how high her skirt rode when she tucked her legs up

under her. Her lean thighs were pale, smooth columns, and for

just an instant, I imagined running my hand along them.

When I looked away, I saw Tate coming back. She grinned

at me, and I had a feeling she was reading my mind. She was

barefoot in jeans and a T-shirt and had a very respectable bulge

along the inside of her left leg that hadn’t been there earlier. I

glanced from her crotch back up to her face and her grin grew

wider. Automatically, I tightened my hold on my wife.

• 130 •

In Deep Waters 2

Tate dropped onto the couch next to Monica, slouching

with her legs spread and her arm stretched out along the back

of Monica’s shoulders. While Sheri and Monica continued

recapping the show, Monica casually settled her hand on Tate’s

thigh. Her fi ngertips came to rest an inch away from the head

of Tate’s cock, which was plainly outlined beneath the nearly

threadbare denim. Sheri tensed in my lap, and I saw she was

staring at Monica’s hand. Or maybe she was staring at what

was right next to Monica’s hand.

“Don’t you think so?” Monica asked brightly.

I jerked, realizing she was looking at me and expecting an

answer. “Sorry, I missed that.”

“I mean, I know it was all an act, but didn’t you think it

was kind of sexy all the same?” Monica smiled at me and slid

her hand up to cover Tate’s cock.

Sheri squirmed in my lap.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a little light-headed. “I thought it

was sexy.”

Monica leaned forward as if she were going to tell us a

secret, affording both Sheri and me a good look at her breasts,

which were small and fi rm and very nice. At the same time,

she tightened her fi ngers around the length of Tate’s cock and

pulled enough to tent the denim. Tate half closed her eyes and

my clit got so hard I wanted to leave right then.

“While I was watching those girls slide around the pole

and touch themselves, I was imagining being up there on stage

with everyone watching me,” Monica confi ded. “It made me

so horny.”

“Teasing everyone,” Sheri asked, “or being watched?”

Monica smiled and her hand moved a little faster between

Tate’s legs. Tate’s fi ngers twitched on Monica’s bare arm as if

a fi ne electric current fl owed through them. “Both.”

• 131 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Baby,” I murmured in Sheri’s ear, “I think we ought to

go.”

Sheri shifted so she was sitting completely crosswise in

my lap, her ass nestled into my crotch. She wrapped her arms

around my neck and kissed me, her tongue deep in my mouth.

Sheri’s ass rolling over my clit felt so good, for a second I

forgot about Monica and Tate. I sucked on her tongue and

skimmed my hand over the outside of her breast. She purred

her approval and I worked my hand under the bottom of her

Lycra top. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and when my thumb

skated across her small, hard nipple, she moaned. I slipped my

other hand down to her ass and heard another moan. Except

it wasn’t Sheri’s voice. Still kissing her, I tilted my head and

shot a glance toward the sofa next to me. Monica had Tate’s

cock out and was bent over Tate’s lap, sucking her. Tate was

watching us, her face slack as she caressed Monica’s hair.

Monica’s head bobbed in Tate’s lap as she followed her fi st

up and down Tate’s cock, and I wondered if she’d forgotten

about us.

I could tell Sheri was too into kissing me to notice what

was going on a few feet away. I stopped kissing her and nodded

in their direction. Sheri blinked and gaped as Tate fucked

Monica’s face.

“Baby,” I whispered again, “we should go unless you

want—”

“I want you to play with my nipples some more,” Sheri

muttered and dove back into my mouth.

The more I squeezed and tugged, the harder Sheri

squirmed in my lap, and the less I cared what Monica and Tate

were doing. When Sheri arched her back and yanked her top

up to expose her breasts, I didn’t think twice about latching

on to her nipple with my mouth. I sucked her and she dug her

• 132 •

In Deep Waters 2

fi ngers into my hair and chanted oh, baby, yeah, yeah, that

feels so good.

Next to me, Tate fi nally spoke. “I’m fi xing to come in

your mouth.”

Monica sat up, her dark hair swinging around her face.

“You are not. You’re going to come inside of me.” She gripped

Tate’s cock in her dainty fi st and grinned over her shoulder at

Sheri and me. “Sheri, want to see which one of them can hold

out the longest? I bet yours will come before mine.”

Sheri laughed, a wild light in her eyes. “Want to play,

lover?”

I knew sh e did, and that was almost enough to get me off

in my pants. I might as well let her have it the way she wanted

it. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

“Okay, what are the rules?” Sheri said to Monica.

“You suck her off while I fuck Tate. And you can’t stop.

The fi rst one of them to come, loses.”

“Tate will lose,” Sheri said confi dently as she climbed

down from my lap and knelt between my legs.

Monica hitched up her skirt and swung around to straddle

Tate’s narrow hips, positioning herself above Tate’s cock. She

faced us with her ass against Tate’s belly. “I’m going to make

sure you don’t cheat.”

Sheri unzipped my trousers and I lifted my hips so she

could pull them down. Then she got up tight between my

legs, her hands resting against the inside of my thighs. Just

seeing her there made my clit double in size. I didn’t think Tate

was going to lose. I thought I’d last about a minute once she

started sucking me. I glanced over at Tate. She had one hand

on Monica’s hip and the other steadying her cock so Monica

could slide down it. She was breathing fast and I didn’t think

she had too long to go either. Maybe I did have a chance.

• 133 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Let’s go then,” Monica said and settled down on Tate’s

cock, taking her all the way in with one smooth, easy glide.

She shivered. “Oh God. She’s big.”

“So’s she,” Sheri murmured and closed her lips around

my clit. She swept her tongue around me once and then started

to suck.

My vision went hazy for a second, and I really wanted

to let go and come right then, but I remembered I wasn’t

supposed to. I needed a diversion, something, anything to take

my mind off the way Sheri pumped my clit in and out between

her pursed lips like it was a lollipop. Next to me, Tate gripped

Monica’s ass and stared, transfi xed, into her lap as Monica rode

up and down the length of her cock. Tate grunted softly, open

mouthed, each time Monica slammed down on her. I imagined

how that must feel, the warm, fi rm base of the cock banging

against her clit, and mine popped up and twitched like crazy.

“Watch it,” I groaned, and Sheri backed off to give me a

break.

“No fair,” Monica gasped, “you have to keep doing her.”

Sheri teased me with the tip of her tongue, and I gripped

the edges of the sofa cushion and tried not to come in her face.

Tate whined and I knew she was getting ready to come. Monica

made little whimpering sounds every time she shafted herself,

and I knew she was right there too. I just needed to hold on

another few seconds. Desperately, I grabbed Sheri’s head with

both hands and held her mouth still with my clit just resting

between her lips. It jumped against her mouth with every beat

of my heart. She gazed up at me, her eyes hungry, and fl icked

at me with her tongue. She knew that would make me come

and it did. I swore, but the curses were drowned out by Tate.

“Fuck,” Tate yelled, sounding like she was in pain. “Fuck

fuck fuck, I’m coming.”

• 134 •

In Deep Waters 2

I pushed my clit into Sheri’s mouth and let her suck me

off the rest of the way. It hit me so hard I felt like I’d been

punched in the gut. I didn’t hear anything for quite a while

except the roar of blood through my head.

“Who won?” I fi nally heard Sheri ask.

“It was a tie.” Monica’s voice high and tight. I forced my

eyes open and focused on her. She was still riding, and her

eyes were huge black pools of need.

“Want to see”—Monica grinned unsteadily at Sheri—

“which of us can last the longest?”

Instantly, Sheri climbed into my lap and pushed my hand

between her legs. She was hot and wet and her clit stood up

between the slick folds. “Okay. But you have to rub your clit,

too.”

Monica’s hand fl ew to her clit and she started circling.

“Mmm. I’m so hard.” She looked at me. “Is she hard too?”

I squeezed Sheri’s clit between my thumb and forefi nger,

right at the base, where she liked it. I rolled it a little bit, and

Sheri’s legs trembled. “Very hard.”

“Are you squeezing it?” Monica stopped pumping up

and down the cock and eased back against Tate’s body with

it deep inside her. She rested her head on Tate’s shoulder and

watched us. Tate reached around Monica’s body and started

to play with her breasts. Monica fondled her clit, massaging it

with one fi nger. Her clit was the same color as her blood red

fi ngernail.

“Squeezing and stroking,” I replied. Sheri was breathing

unevenly against my neck, and I knew from the way her clit

felt she was going to come soon. When she was this hard,

she couldn’t control it. I fi gured Monica had a head start and

couldn’t last long either. In fact, from the way her head twisted

from side to side, she had to be barely holding on.

• 135 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I bet Tate’s big, fat cock feels good inside you, doesn’t

it?” I whispered, hoping to push Monica over the edge a little

faster. After all, I wanted Sheri to win this little contest.

“Oh my God,” Monica moaned, “it feels so so good.

Makes me want to come so bad.”

Sheri whimpered and clamped her hand over mine,

pushing and pulling my fi ngers up and down her clit. That

wasn’t exactly the response I had hoped for.

“Hold on, baby,” I whispered.

“I can’t,” Sheri wailed. “I want to come.”

Oh well, fuck the contest. If Sheri needed it, I was going

to give it to her.

“Okay, baby, okay.” I slid three fi ngers inside her and

worked her clit with my thumb. “You go ahead and come right

here in my hand.”

“Oh yeah,” Sheri whimpered, sucking on my neck. She

was going to leave a mark. “Oh yeah, you’re making me

come.”

Sheri jerked upright in my lap, both hands clamped around

my wrist, holding me inside. Her eyes were wide and dazed as

she stared at Monica. “Watch me. I’m coming.”

Monica writhed on Tate’s cock, her hand a blur between

her legs, her lips parted in a silent scream.

I held Sheri around the waist as she bent nearly double,

coming over and over on my fi ngers in gushing waves. Monica

fi nally found her breath and started begging for Tate to fuck

her. Tate dug her heels in and obliged, thrusting her hips and

her cock in and out while Monica masturbated furiously,

making herself come, from the sounds of it, one orgasm right

on top of another.

“Oh God,” Sheri sighed, slumping back into my arms. “I

came so hard I thought I was going to break something. Are

you all right?”

• 136 •

In Deep Waters 2

I eased my hand out from between her legs, happy I could

still feel my fi ngers. “I’m better than all right.”

Monica was fi nally winding down at last. Her lids fl uttered

open and she smiled weakly at Sheri. “Was that a tie?”

“I think it was too close to call.” Sheri dragged my hand

back to her breast and I obediently fi ngered her nipple.

“Maybe we should go another round,” Monica

suggested.

“What do you say, lover?” Sheri started to slow grind in

my lap again.

“Sure. As long as I get to deal this hand.”

Sheri glanced over at Monica. “Okay?”

Monica gave us both a slow smile. “Call the game. We’ll

play.”

• 137 •

• 138 •

In Deep Waters 2

TWENTY-ONE

Karin Kallmaker

Swear to freakin’ god, look at this place!” Liddy did

a little dance as she ogled the big roulette wheel,

the recessed area where poker tables were lined up

like green jewels, the gleaming rows of slot machines, and

over there they were playing baccarat, craps, everything. “Kid.

Candy store. Me!”

Marian laughed and gave her an indulgent look. “I’ll go

to my workshop and you play the tables. But stick within your

budget, okay?”

“I know.” She gave Marian her most innocent look. “I can

stretch a dollar a long, long way.” She glanced around—they

were a long way from the openness of Iowa City—and there

seemed to be plenty of coupled up women nearby. With a

resounding smooch, she bounded away to the change machine.

Video poker was her fi rst stop.

Twenty minutes and twenty dollars later, she thought if

she wanted to just throw her money away, she could play keno.

• 139 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Buy an Edge or Top-Bottom ticket and kiss ten bucks goodbye. Or she could buy tickets to one of the many shows. The

ones she could afford were likely still more entertaining than

slot machines that ate her quarters like Marian’s dog ate kibble,

and that included the Engelbert Humperdinck imitators. She

wished she could win something and afford tickets to Melissa

or Madonna.

Banish that thought, she told herself. Feeling desperate to

win attracted losing. It wasn’t logical, but it was true.

She had her employer’s hundred dollars, a gift for

“research” Dana Moon had said. She was to spend it on

blackjack, then write down every last impression she had of

being an unskilled player at a middle stakes table.

Ten minutes later, she tapped Loser from loserville,

that’s what it feels like into her PalmPilot. Swear to freakin’

god, she’d never seen cards so bad. She’d had twelve, three

times, and gotten a ten every hand. Nobody busts with twentytwo three times in a row, ka-ching, ka-ching. The dealer had

looked a little chagrinned.

She glanced at her watch. Marian would be another hour

at least. She would have gone along to watch her mostest

favorite librarian participate on a panel discussion of cultural

sensitivity in the labeling and display of young adult titles, but

she was sort of banned from the proceedings because of last

year. Not offi cially banned, but that idiot guy had so not known

what he was talking about, and in her opinion any librarian

who supported a censorship position ought to go to work at the

department of motor vehicles alphabetizing license plates.

Marian had tried to calm her down after the altercation.

“Liddy, honey, I know you love to ask questions, and I have

never seen anyone who loves a good debate like you—”

Liddy had snarled in the general direction of petty fascists

the world over. “Debate? I was kicking his ass, and if he calls

• 140 •

In Deep Waters 2

you little lady one more time, I’m gonna kick his ass for

real.”

“Honey, I know you feel strongly about it, and I know

you really can kick his ass because I saw you get your black

belt, but you can’t go around kicking the asses of the members

of the board. Especially when you’re not a librarian and you

aren’t even a paid attendee at the conference.”

When Marian was right, she was right, and Liddy had

learned to accept it. And when she’d asked Liddy not to go into

any of the sessions this year, and hinted she was just passing

on a more or less offi cial request, Liddy had promised to be

good.

The panel was probably boring Marian out of her mind.

She could hear her love right now explaining that librarians

did not act in loco parentis, and that any so-called child with

the wherewithal to fi nd a book ought to be able to check that

book out, and any parents who wanted to keep a fi rm grip

on what their children were reading had the perfect recourse

of not letting their children have their own cards. It was that

simple. But no, parents wanted to park their children at the

library after school for a couple of hours, and then got upset

when their children actually used the library to look up stuff

that interested them. Number one search for males aged fi fteen

to eighteen was sex. Number two, sex. Number three, cars.

Number four, cars and sex in cars.

So, she could see about making her next twenty dollars

last an hour—unlikely—or she could think of something else

to amuse herself.

Text messages were free, she thought. She punched up

Marian’s number and asked her if she was able to get texts.

Marian replied her bit was over and she was seated in the

audience and asked what was wrong. Liddy loved the economy

of Done, off dais, okay?

• 141 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

1 Liddy texted back. A walk in a thunderstorm.

?

2 Your shirt soaked to your skin. There was no reply,

and Liddy was pretty sure she had Marian’s attention. 3 My

shirt soaked to my skin.

Well, maybe she should play a little bit more video

poker.

Her next twenty bucks lasted longer because she stopped

after every dollar or so lost to send Marian another text.

4 Chasing drops of rain down your throat with my

tongue, followed an ill-advised attempt to draw to an inside

straight.

She had drawn a spade to go with four diamonds when a

reply from Marian arrived. She smiled fondly as she read: 5

You make love like you eat.

Maybe she could fi nd a pint of ice cream and a spoon

and invite Marian upstairs for a memorable lunch. A couple of

clicks on the poker machine brought her a modest return in the

form of three of a kind. For ten minutes, she played happily,

not quite losing, then her fortunes took another turn for the

worse.

6 Against the door.

Immediately she got back: 7 You naked. Me not.

She shivered. Five years and that still turned her on.

Marian the Librarian was really playful, and the best part was

nobody suspected, so there were no nympho-femmes trying to

poach her girl. Liddy hadn’t known she was a nympho-femme

until Marian.

She looked down when her phone buzzed. 8 Shower?

9 Your favorite word, yes.

Marian didn’t answer, so it was possible she had to actually

talk to people or something. Liddy cashed out what was left of

her money in the poker machine and carried the quarters to a

• 142 •

In Deep Waters 2

good ol’ Lucky 7 slot machine. Plink-plink-plink, spin-whirlclick, gone-gone-gone.

Maybe she should try a different casino, but she didn’t want

to leave. It was rather nice to have more women than men in

the hotel, and there were librarians everywhere. Attendees for

the Escort Services International group were also in evidence,

and there were even some faces she recognized as famous

romance writers.

Marian said that writers and librarians were natural

pairings, and even if Liddy wasn’t a writer, she did research for

one, which made them even more ideal as mates. What Liddy

couldn’t fi nd, Marian could. They’d lie in bed at night talking

about search strings and cataloging, total geeks, then Marian

would take off her glasses, take off Liddy’s clothes, and in

the morning there were towels and sheets to wash. Marian’s

favorite fl annel sheets hadn’t survived their fi rst year.

Her phone buzzed. 10 All my fi ngers, all over you.

Well, okay, Liddy had started her little game thinking to

make Marian crazy, but at the moment, Marian was getting the

upper hand. She laughed, startling the man on the stool next to

her. What else was new? Marian always had the upper hand,

and they both really liked it that way. 11 plus your tongue.

12 Our fi rst night together, you.

Oh, Marian was not playing fair. Liddy abandoned the slot

machine as the memories of that fi rst night washed over her.

She’d not known just how multiorgasmic she could be. She’d

not been that way with anyone else, and wonderful Marian had

decided that just because Liddy didn’t know she could, that

wasn’t the same as knowing she couldn’t.

Marian, again. 13 The next day and night.

Now she was just showing off. 14 Hours it took you to

call me after.

15 Times I’ve said sorry.

• 143 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

16 Times I’ve said sorry for bringing it up. Oh dear,

things were not going the way she intended.

17 Favorite thing: Make up sex?

Liddy laughed, relieved. Her steps turned toward the

conference center. 18 Yes, please. Now.

19 Minutes I have left in this session.

20 Minutes till I see you in our room.

21 This afternoon, you.

Liddy blushed and was so glad no one else could see the

display. When Marian got in these moods and wanted to see

how often Liddy could… Nympho-femme, she thought, and

don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.

She sent back: Game over. I’ve won all I need, all I

want.

“What I love,” Marian whispered against Liddy’s breasts,

“is feeling like I make your fantasies come true.”

Liddy was incredibly pleased with the status of the world,

the cosmos, and the praline truffl e ice cream that had not quite

melted all the way. It had made for a wonderful snack before

Marian decided they should shower and go back to bed. “You

make fantasies come true that I didn’t even know I had. That’s

the really amazing part.”

“Want some more to come true?”

“Not right now—I mean, yes, actually.” Liddy grinned at

her lover.

“You have the most amazing eyes,” Marian said. “The

goddess was playing with the most beautiful blues and greens

when she conceived you.”

Liddy redirected Marian’s hand from between her legs to

her breast.

• 144 •

In Deep Waters 2

“If you don’t want that, what do you want?” Marian

tweaked Liddy’s nipple, which responded as it always did

even after the hours of fun.

“You.” Liddy ruffl ed the short hair that curled ever so

slightly on Marian’s forehead. “You don’t need the way I do,

but I know that you need. I told you the fi rst time we were

together I wasn’t a pillow queen.”

“You never have been. That you let me play with you the

way I do is one of the ways you make love to me.”

Liddy tweaked Marian’s nipple exactly the way Marian

was touching hers. She’d learned that the confi dent lover who

could be so aggressive and so thorough needed a few minutes

to fade before a more vulnerable woman emerged, one who

could let Liddy see her need.

Tapping into a patience she did not normally possess but

had learned to nurture, Liddy stroked Marian’s hair. They had

already had fi ve years of passion—passion for their work,

their friends, each other. Learning to take and give had been

so important.

“We’re going to miss out on baseball theme night,” Marian

said. Her playful tone was at odds with the need now showing

in her eyes.

“Don’t let me be selfi sh,” Liddy whispered. “It’s not good

for me.” She touched the tip of her tongue to Marian’s earlobe,

then rubbed her lips along Marian’s cheek and jaw.

Marian exhaled, a small sound that Liddy knew was

surrender to Liddy taking control. With a purr of pleasure,

Liddy peeled Marian’s T-shirt off, glad that the skittishness

that she had fi rst encountered when making love to Marian

was long gone.

“I love you,” she said, knowing Marian needed to hear it.

She slid one arm under Marian’s shoulders, pulling her close

while her other hand explored the wonderful, full breasts. She

• 145 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

wanted to say, “Beautiful,” but Marian’s gentle butch objected

to the word. Instead, she held the word in her mouth as she

kissed Marian slowly, luxuriously. No one had ever made

her feel as if she could read minds, interpret the most subtle

body language the way Marian did. It was a powerful feeling

that sprang from intimacy, not the mind games they had both

endured in their exes.

Marian loved her touch, and it still went right to her head,

a different kind of dizzy arousal than what she’d already

experienced. She stayed close, drowning them both in kisses

while her hand fi nally dipped between Marian’s legs.

The explosion of wetness made her whimper. She drenched

her fi ngers with it, brought them to her mouth, tasted and

licked, then painted Marian’s lips with the wonderful essence.

More kisses, her fi ngers again dipping, pressing, then fi nally,

sliding inside.

“Oh, yes.” Marian arched into their kisses, shuddering

under Liddy’s hand.

“I’m right here, darling.” Liddy breathed out the

reassurance, felt it unknot the tension in Marian’s shoulders,

spreading down her body until her legs parted. She was

suddenly so wet that Liddy’s hand was swimming. “I know

this is what you need.”

She pressed inward, smooth and steady, drawing a hoarse,

sharp cry out of Marian that turned into an ecstatic, exultant,

“Yes!”

My favorite word, too, Liddy thought. Our favorite

word.

After a few minutes of increasingly languid kisses and

murmured reassurances, Liddy smooched away the faint hint

of tears in the corners of Marian’s eyes. “Love you, and I love

doing that to you.”

• 146 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Baseball night,” Marian mumbled. “We’re missing

out.”

“Sleep.” She watched Marian’s eyelids droop.

“But it’s our last night. You wanted to gamble.”

“Don’t need to. I’m already the winner.”

Marian’s hand tightened on hers, then slowly went limp.

Liddy smiled into Marian’s hair, and after one more sigh of

contentment, joined her in sleep.

• 147 •

• 148 •

In Deep Waters 2

NO LIMIT

Radcly f fe

I wondered if she thought I wouldn’t notice that she was

staring. Even though I sat on a raised platform at a

table with fi ve other panelists in a crowded conference

room, I could feel her eyes on me. All 300 seats were fi lled,

being as The Erotic Transformation of Romance Fiction was

a popular topic for writers, booksellers, and librarians—like

me. I didn’t write books, nor did I sell books. I just loved

books. I loved the way they felt, the way they smelled, the

way they looked lined up on a shelf with the spine text all

neatly aligned. I loved the anticipation of the fi rst page and

the bittersweet pleasure of the fi nal sentence. Most of all, I

loved the adventure, the discovery, the wondrous revelations

that held me captive and, every so often, if I was very lucky,

left me wanting.

Someone in the audience asked me a question and I

answered automatically, smiling by refl ex after years of dealing

with the public. I made eye contact with the questioner, before

• 149 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

broadening my gaze to take in the entire room, including

everyone in the discussion. But always, no matter where I

pretended to look, I was aware of her standing at the back of

the room, her face partly shadowed by the column she leaned

against. She should have been too far away for me to see her

clearly, but I could make out her features as distinctly as if

she stood before me. I knew she was a stranger, just as surely

as I recognized her in some deep, visceral way. Her eyes

were dark, as was her thick, slightly wavy collar length hair.

Her body was long and slender, almost thin, and the deepcharcoal tailored jacket and trousers accentuated her austere

appearance. She stood with her arms folded across her chest,

one shoulder tilted against the cool white marble support. A

fl ash of gold winked at her waistline and on the small fi nger

of her left hand. She had been watching me since the moment

she walked into the room, her gaze like hot sunshine on my

cheek.

“Thank you all so much for participating,” I heard the

session moderator say, and in an instant the stage was deluged

by eager audience members. I answered questions, made

reading recommendations, and handed out the bibliographies

I had prepared for those who wanted to research the topic

further. When we were fi nally forced to vacate the room for the

next session, I made my way down the central aisle, my focus

on the far corner of the room. She was gone, and I laughed

inwardly at the sharp pang of disappointment. Of course she

was gone, as far from my reach as the women in the pages of

the books whose passion I guiltily took as my own.

With my briefcase in hand, I quickly crossed the lobby,

skirting around the long line of conference goers that had

formed to pick up a complementary box lunch. I preferred to

eat alone, somewhere quiet, with my thoughts and, yes, my

fantasies for company. Balancing the social requirements of

• 150 •

In Deep Waters 2

an event like this against my innate need for privacy was a

constant challenge, and one that tired me. Unfortunately, Las

Vegas casinos were not known for quiet or privacy—everything

was geared toward constant stimulation, feeding the adrenaline

rush that kept people on the edge, kept people awake, kept

people taking a chance. As I crossed the gaming fl oor, I envied

the jubilant, almost frenzied gamblers. They were so alive,

the very air reverberated with the collective pounding of their

hearts. In contrast, I felt like a shadow, a closed book waiting

to be opened so life could begin.

Shaking my head, I tried to dispel the unsettling images. I

didn’t often allow myself the luxury of self-analysis. Despite

my frequent feelings of being not quite part of the world around

me, I had work that I loved and pleasures that satisfi ed me. I

spied an overstuffed chair next to a small table tucked into a

corner of one of the many lounges bordering the main casino,

and changed course to claim it. That was when she stepped

out of the shadows as if she had been waiting for me. Even

though it was the middle of the afternoon in August, inside

the casino it was perpetual “any time,” neither night nor day.

With no clocks, no windows, and only the artifi ce of fabricated

worlds as a backdrop, it was easy to lose touch with reality. Or

whatever passed for reality anywhere but here.

“Chase Rogers,” I said, recognizing her now from book

cover photos that didn’t do her justice. Up close, I was struck

by the perfect pallor of her skin. Not so much the absence

of color, but an ethereal translucent white that made her

appear fl awless and timeless and as nearly untouchable as

Michelangelo’s David. Nearly untouchable, because I had an

overwhelming, completely irresistible desire to run my fi ngers

over the faultlessly etched curve of her cheekbone. And I did,

with just the tips of my fi ngers. Her skin was as smooth and

cool as I expected. Carved marble.

• 151 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I’m sorry.” I dropped my hand. “I have no idea why I

did that.”

“Perhaps because I wanted you to.”

The rich timbre of her voice struck me deep inside, like

tinder bursting into fl ame, and I knew I would do anything

she desired. Distantly, I was aware of people passing by, but it

seemed as if we existed in a circle outside the everyday realm

of ordinary lives. Her gaze never left my face, and she hadn’t

moved closer to me, but I felt as if she was exploring my body

in the most intimate of ways. My face fl ushed and I felt a

stirring between my legs. Incapable of moving, I clutched at

the gossamer strands of reality before they completely slipped

away.

“I love your books.”

“You don’t fi nd them too violent? Or too dark?”

“No, I don’t fi nd consuming passion too violent. I don’t

believe that needs so deep you bleed from them are dark, only

powerful. After all, blood is life.”

“And what would a vampire story be without blood?”

Chase’s pale, perfectly shaped lips thinned slightly, with what

might have been regret.

“Incomplete,” I said immediately and saw her eyes, which

I had fi rst taken to be a deep brown, suddenly become so black

the irises nearly merged with the molten centers. I couldn’t

look away, and feared I would never want to.

“Are you here alone?” Chase asked.

“You know I am,” I answered, certain it was true without

understanding how.

She held out her hand. “Come.”

Her long, tapered fi ngers were cool as they closed around

mine, and as she clasped my arm close to her body, I felt the

power in her deceptively slender frame. I was aware of hallways,

an elevator, a door opening, but I viewed these commonplace

• 152 •

In Deep Waters 2

things as if through shifting fog. A sharp, pungent odor swirled

around us, like leaves burning on a cold autumn night. My

skin tingled as if I had stepped from a hot springs into a frigid

snow. My blood rushed so close to the surface, I felt more

acutely alive than I ever had before. Beside me, Chase moved

with effortless grace, her expression unreadable, at once

intense and remote.

Then I was inside a room unlike any I had seen in the

hotel thus far. The windows were covered with heavy brocade

drapes, the dark, richly papered walls lost to shadow. The only

illumination came from a heavily shaded lamp in one corner of

the bedroom just beyond the room in which I stood. The bed

was raised, with gleaming carved posts at each corner. The

very air felt thick and languid against my skin.

I dropped my briefcase on a nearby chair and started

forward without invitation, knowing my destiny as if I had

been in this place before. Chase caught my hand and turned

me back to face her.

“Do you know me?” she asked simply.

“I feel like I do.” In the low light, her skin took on color

and mine blanched until the hand I extended to touch her once

again was the same shimmering white as her face. I wondered

if my eyes had turned from blue to the fathomless black depths

that looked back at me. “I recognized you this afternoon.” I

touched my breast, over my heart. “Here.”

Chase made a sound low in her throat that was half moan,

half growl before clasping my shoulders and pulling me to her.

Her mouth on mine was hot in the way ice burns, and I opened

to a heat that was not fl ame, but something far more dangerous.

Through my half-closed lids the room took on a hazy red glow

and I would have fallen if Chase had not wrapped one arm

around my waist, cleaving me to her. Her body was hard,

power beyond simple strength rippling beneath the surface. I

• 153 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

pushed her jacket from her shoulders and she freed one arm,

then the other, never letting me slip out of her embrace. Tilting

my head back, I offered my throat while I pulled at her shirt,

knowing I was tearing the fi ne linen and not caring. When I

slid my hands beneath the pale weave, I touched perfection.

Sleek, fl awless skin, perfect breasts—as pristine and pure as

driven snow. I caressed her, brushing my fi ngertips over her

small, hard nipples until she groaned against the base of my

neck. I felt the graze of her teeth, careful and restrained. When

I gripped the back of her head and urged her to plunder, she

pulled away.

“No.” And for the fi rst time, her implacable countenance

faltered. She trembled as I stroked her breasts, and I saw

hunger smoldering in her eyes, a hunger that went deeper than

anything I might touch.

“Yes.” I retreated from her embrace but gripped her arm,

compelling her to follow me to the bed. I felt her reluctance

but would not let her deny us what we both craved. “Yes.”

I held her gaze as I unbuttoned my blouse, unzipped

my skirt, and removed each article of clothing until I was

completely nude. She watched me, strangely helpless, as if the

slightest movement would break the spell and we would fi nd

ourselves once more in the brightly lit, noise-fi lled chaos of

the other world. The world where we had never belonged but

lived as exiles, incomplete and forever wanting.

“Please,” I whispered, reaching for the gold belt buckle

at her waist. I opened her belt, then worked the zipper down.

Hooking my fi ngers over the waistband, I searched her eyes.

I saw worlds in them, past, present, future, sliding around me

and over me and through me until I was dizzy. “Please.”

And then the landscape beneath the dark mirror of her

eyes shifted, and fl ames leapt in them. She tore her shirt away

and cast the remnants aside. Then she grasped my arms and

• 154 •

In Deep Waters 2

pushed me down on the bed, following an instant later after

she’d shed her clothes. When I reached up to draw her into

my arms, she clasped my wrists, one in each hand, and forced

my arms down to the bed. At the same time, she knelt between

my thighs, forcing my legs apart, so that I lay exposed, arms

outstretched, legs open to accept her as she curved above me,

a specter of fi re and ice.

“Touch me,” I begged, and she brought her weight down

upon me, roaming my neck with her mouth as she fi t her sex

to mine. My skin burned wherever hers touched mine, and I

writhed beneath her, swollen and hot. Although she kept my

arms pinned so I could not hold her, I wrapped my legs around

her thighs. She was hard against my hardness, wet against my

wetness. When I rubbed myself against her, she moaned and I

felt the sharp bite of teeth at my throat.

“Take me,” I urged, thrusting up as she bore down between

my legs. Blood pounded, thick and heavy, in my loins, making

my clitoris pulse in time to the beat of my heart. Our one heart.

“Fuck me, please.”

She released one arm and kissed me as she slipped her

hand between us. I cried out against her mouth as she fi lled me

with those long, cool fi ngers that heated me inside until I felt

my body turn to fl ame. I cupped her neck, refusing to let her

draw away as I thrust my tongue into her mouth, exchanging

fi re for fi re. She pushed deeper inside me, and I felt my orgasm

ripple and spread from the tight walls around her fi ngers to the

base of my clitoris and down my legs. I tossed my head and

felt a sharp pain in the side of my tongue. Then I tasted blood.

My blood. My blood, her fi re, our passion.

She jerked her head away, crying hoarsely, “No.”

“Don’t stop, I’m coming,” I moaned, as she reared back.

I reached for her as she knelt between my thighs, her arm as

hard as stone between my legs. “I’m coming. Please.”

• 155 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Remember me,” she whispered as she bowed her head

over my body and drove me to orgasm, once and then a second

time, until the breath left my body and I pleaded helplessly for

her to stop.

She was so beautiful, kneeling between my legs, and

through the haze of my own pleasure, I thought I saw her eyes

glow red, as if refl ecting the passion she had unleashed upon

my body. Reaching down, she began to draw the sheet over

my body, but I found the strength to raise myself and still her

hand.

“You haven’t come,” I murmured, cupping her cheek as

I kissed her. My fi ngers were so hot now that she felt even

cooler. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice thick and low. “You’ve

given me everything I need.”

I framed her face with both hands and searched her eyes.

The fi re still burned in them. “Not quite everything.”

Finding her hand, I drew it to me and pressed her fi ngertips

to the place where the pulse still beat hard and heavy between

my thighs. “I need you, too. I need you inside me. I need to be

inside of you. Please don’t say no.”

“You don’t know—”

“I do.” I kissed her, my hands in her hair, my breasts against

her breasts, my tongue searching for what we both needed. I

felt a small stab of pain again and then the clean, coppery taste

of my blood. She trembled and would have pulled away, but

I would not let her. She was so much stronger than I, but her

need made her weak. Now, in the heat of our wanting, I was

the stronger one. I guided her down as I lay back, until her face

brushed the inner curve of my thigh.

“Take me,” I whispered for the second time that night.

“Drink me,” I implored, for the fi rst time in my life.

• 156 •

In Deep Waters 2

Still, she tried to resist, but I pressed myself to her mouth.

Her tongue was soft, her mouth gentle, her hands careful as

she entered me again. I caressed her jaw as she kissed me, her

fi ngers taking me closer to coming with each stroke.

“I’m close, I’m close,” I told her. “Please, come with

me.”

She groaned, and I felt the last of her resistance fall before

the rising tide of our singular need. Then a wave of heat like

nothing I’d ever felt before seared through my being, burning

a pathway to my heart, to my soul, to a place beyond time. She

fi lled me and I fi lled her, with all that we were.

When I awakened, the sheet covered me and she was

gone. I bent my leg and saw the small shadow of a bruise in

the bend of my thigh. In a few hours, it would be gone. In a

few hours, she might be gone. But I didn’t intend to wait that

long. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for

my clothes.

I intended to fi nd her. What is life, after all, if not the

fl ame of passion?

• 157 •

• 158 •

In Deep Waters 2

HARD TEN

Radcly f fe

Just as Micki Wright laid her chips on the Pass Line

and held out her hand to accept the dice from the

stickman, a deeply tanned blonde with ocean blue

eyes and short, sleek hair edged up to the craps table opposite

her and nodded as if they were acquaintances. They weren’t.

Micki had never seen her before. She didn’t forget women built

like her—etched muscles in her biceps and forearms, broad

swimmer’s shoulders tapering to a narrow waist—and all of

it nicely showcased in a black silk T-shirt stretched tight over

prominent pectorals and small, neat breasts. Micki couldn’t

see much of her black jeans, but she had no trouble imagining

the toned thighs and fi rm ass that had to be there. After a few

brief seconds admiring the very impressive package, Micki

turned her attention back to the table.

“Dice are out, hands high,” the stickman called, and the

players around the long, narrow table lifted their hands off the

rail. Micki shook the dice and let them fl y. They bounced off

• 159 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

the far rail, and the gamblers drew a collective breath as the

small red cubes came to rest. “Natural seven,” the stickman

announced. Everyone cheered, and the dealers paid out the

bets.

The blonde gave Micki an approving nod and a smile that

said, very nice, and Micki’s stomach did a little roll. The dice

came back to her and she had to look away from the captivating

face to place her chips and shoot again. Her come out roll was

an easy eight, and excitement built around the table. She threw

again—a fever fi ve, then an easy four, and fi nally, a three and

fi ve.

The stickman announced, “Winner eight,” and the guy

in Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirt standing next to her

clapped her on the shoulder, collected his chips, and left the

table. The blonde took his place.

“Nice shooting.” Her voice was chocolate smooth, dark

and creamy with a rich aftertaste. Micki’s stomach tightened

a little more and her clit bucked in her jeans. She supposed

anyone watching would think them mirror opposites, her with

her dark hair and eyes and white T-shirt versus the blonde in

black. Micki had worn a sports bra, but not a heavy one, and

since her nipples were as hard as her clit, she knew they had

to be obvious if anyone cared to look. Apparently, the blonde

did, because she dropped her gaze for an instant, then looked

into Micki’s eyes. “Very nice.”

“Thanks.” Micki’s throat was dry and her drink was

empty, but she wasn’t passing the dice while she was winning.

Besides, she wasn’t sure she was reading the signals right. She

couldn’t imagine she was the kind of woman the blonde would

go for. Micki had almost as many muscles as her, and she gave

off “top” vibes even though that wasn’t always the case. And if

she hadn’t been planning to spend the evening in such a public

place, she might have been packing. She wouldn’t be surprised

• 160 •

In Deep Waters 2

if the blonde had a little something extra behind the buttons of

her 501s herself. No, the appreciation she was picking up on

was probably just friendly approval from one stud to another.

Micki let loose the dice and rolled double fi ves—a hard

ten. Next to her, the blonde placed a huge chip stack betting

that Micki would hit the point. Micki wanted to win for her. She

wanted to please her. Didn’t matter that she didn’t know her.

She just wanted to see her eyes light up again. She rolled the

dice, and a relieved sigh fl owed around the table when an eight

came up, and not a seven. She was still alive. She rolled a six.

Then she glanced at the blonde, who nodded encouragingly,

and let the dice fl y. Double fi ves came up. Yes!

“Hard ten again,” the blonde murmured, resting her hand

in the small of Micki’s back. “You’re good.”

It could be just a friendly gesture, but Micki’s legs went

weak. She pocketed her chips and passed the dice to the guy

next to her. Then she turned to the woman whose hand still

rested on her back. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“I’d like that,” the blonde said, “but I’m already late for

an engagement.”

“Oh, sure. Got it.” Of course, she’d have a date. They

stepped away from the table and others immediately took their

place. People hurriedly brushed past them, anxious to get to

their addiction of choice—the bar, the gaming tables, the slots,

or just the teeming streets where anything goes and everyone

keeps your secret.

“Listen, why don’t you come with me?” the blonde said.

“One of the sponsors is throwing this bash, and they always

provide all the entertainment.”

“What do you do?” Micki asked, stalling while she tried

to get a read on the invitation.

“I’m a poker pro. One of the online franchises sponsors

me.” The blonde held out her hand. “Fenn Anderson.”

• 161 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Micki shook her hand, liking the strength in Fenn’s long

fi ngers and noticing that she seemed in no hurry to break their

connection. Still, Micki wasn’t sure about this “party” idea.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not certain this is my kind of

thing.”

Fenn stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Unless I’m

way off base, you and I probably have the same taste in women.

There will be some great looking girls there, and believe me,

they like playing as much as we do.”

“I guess it’s not your fi rst one of these parties,” Micki

said, doubting very much that she and Fenn had the same

tastes. Everyone assumed from looking at her that she was into

femmes. That wasn’t the case, most of the time, but Fenn sure

looked and sounded as if she liked the lipstick girls. “Who else

will be there? I’m not into guys. That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. Unless you signal that you’re into something, no

one will pressure you.” She grinned, her eyes dancing. “If you

just want to watch, that works, too.”

“Even for you?”

Fenn ran her hand down Micki’s bare arm. “You can

watch me all you want.”

“Let’s go then.” Micki’s rapidly swelling clit was already

calling the shots, and watching would be better than nothing.

Fenn led the way through the casino and out onto the

expansive rear veranda where individual cabanas as large as

some middle-class family homes ringed an enormous freeform pool complete with waterfall and multiple hot spas.

Parties seemed to be going on in all of the buildings, but the

artfully arranged landscaping provided natural barriers that

dampened the noise and obscured visibility from one cabana

to the next. When they made their way down a palm-shrouded

walk and inside to a large open room lit by fl ickering faux• 162 •

In Deep Waters 2

fl ames in wall sconces, Micki saw the party had been going

on for quite a while. Even in the low lighting, she made out

the forms of men and women lounging on sofas and oversized

chairs throughout the room. More than a few couples were

sharing kisses and caresses along with their drinks.

“Looks like we’re late,” Micki said.

“How can we be late?” Fenn slung her arm around Micki’s

shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “We just got here.”

Micki laughed and some of her tension dissipated. She

might not be Fenn’s date, but they were together somehow,

and she liked that. As they made their way through the throng

toward the bar, she tried not to stare, but considering the

number of half-undressed people—of all sexual combinations

and a few threesomes—fl agrantly making love, no one would

mind if she did.

“Is it always like this?” Micki asked, signaling the

bartender for a beer.

“Yeah, these private deals are wild,” Fenn said, taking a

beer of her own. She glanced around the room. “You probably

can’t tell, but there are security people all over the place in here.

The party’s invitation only, and we were most likely scanned

coming up to the front door. You got in because you’re with

me, but there are some pretty famous people in here who don’t

want the world to know about their party habits.”

“And what are you looking for tonight?” Micki asked.

Fenn shrugged and tilted her beer bottle toward a redhead

perched on the arm of a love seat on the far side of the room.

The redhead, in a backless, skintight dress that just barely

reached the tops of her thighs, stroked a woman’s breasts as

the woman busily kissed a third person. Male or female kissee,

Micki couldn’t tell.

“She looks wasted on that action,” Fenn observed.

• 163 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Not surprised that the sexy redhead would be the kind of

woman Fenn picked out, Micki took a slug of her beer. She

shouldn’t have been disappointed, but she was. “So go for it.”

“You mind?”

“Nope,” Micki said, hoping for cool. “I’m good.”

Fenn hesitated, her expression pensive, then she upended

her beer bottle and drank it down in a series of deep pulls. She

set it aside on the bar behind them. “Don’t go too far.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Micki wasn’t interested in

hooking up with anyone. The only person she was interested

in clearly had different tastes. But she’d known that coming in,

so she could hardly complain. She accepted a refi ll on her beer

from the bartender and shifted along the perimeter of the room

as Fenn cut directly through the crowd to the redhead. Fenn

held out her hand as she leaned down to say something in the

redhead’s ear, and then the two of them moved off to a vacant

sofa against the wall. Even though they were in shadows, Micki

could see them clearly from where she leaned against one of

the pillars in an even darker part of the room. She thought she

saw Fenn glance around, imagined that their eyes met, but she

knew that was wishful thinking. Still, she watched, because

part of her enjoyed watching, and because Fenn had seemed to

want her to. Maybe that was why she’d invited her.

It didn’t take them long to get down to business. As they

kissed, Fenn caressed the redhead’s breasts, easing her hand

inside her low cut dress. The redhead arched into Fenn’s body,

sliding one leg over Fenn’s thighs, her dress pulling up to her

hips. Fenn pushed fl imsy fabric aside and lowered her mouth

to the redhead’s breast, tonguing her nipple while stroking the

length of her naked thigh. Micki couldn’t hear them, but she

didn’t need to. The redhead’s eyes were closed and her mouth

open. She had to be moaning as Fenn teased her breast. While

Fenn seduced the femme, Micki watched Fenn. She was a

• 164 •

In Deep Waters 2

practiced lover; that was clear. The redhead was really worked

up, her hands all over Fenn, but when she reached down to cup

Fenn’s crotch, Fenn diverted her hand. The fi rst time she did it,

Micki thought it might have been an accident, but the second

time it was clearly deliberate.

Fenn pulled back and murmured something to the redhead,

then stared over her shoulder directly at Micki. She grinned

fi ercely, then gave the redhead a bruising kiss. Micki felt sweat

trickle down her back. Fenn was getting off from knowing she

was there. Being on the outside was exhilarating and frustrating

at the same time. Micki glanced around and when she saw

that no one was looking, she squeezed her crotch, pressing her

thumb into her hard clit. It didn’t help. It only made her want

more. She wanted to do more than watch. And somehow, she

knew Fenn knew that. She should leave, but just then, Fenn

slipped her hand under the edge of the redhead’s dress and

pushed up between her legs.

Micki’s stomach clenched as the redhead writhed into

Fenn’s lap, her mouth against Fenn’s neck, her hips rising and

falling to the stroke of Fenn’s arm between her thighs. In her

mind, Micki heard the redhead’s cry as she climaxed, and the

paean of pleasure mocked her.

“I can help you with that, lover,” an exotic dark-skinned

woman with a sultry voice said as she edged up to Micki and

covered Micki’s hand where she still gripped her crotch.

“Thank you,” Micki rasped, moving both their hands away

from between her legs. She hadn’t intended to masturbate in

public or have someone else do it for her. She mustered up a

smile, and noted that the woman was more than just pretty. If

she hadn’t already had Fenn’s face burned into her mind, she

might have been tempted. “I’ll keep for a while.”

“I’ll be here,” the woman said, moving away with an

indulgent smile.

• 165 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Micki checked back on Fenn’s action just in time to see

the redhead curl up contentedly in the corner of the sectional

and Fenn stalk rapidly toward a hallway at the back of the

room. Uninvited, Micki followed. When Fenn ducked through

a doorway, Micki pushed in behind her. She knew exactly

where Fenn was going and why. She’d done it dozens of times

herself. The restroom was small, with only two stalls, and they

were both empty. Micki reached behind her and locked the

door.

“Enjoy the show?” Fenn asked with a smug grin, leaning

her ass against the granite-topped counter surrounding the

sinks.

She looked cool and self-satisfi ed, but Micki knew better.

“How long will it take you to get yourself off now? Thirty

seconds? A minute? That’s what you came in here for, isn’t

it?”

Fenn frowned. “Look—”

“No,” Micki snapped, grabbing Fenn and spinning her

around toward the counter so hard that Fenn grabbed the edge

to steady herself. “You look.” Catching the mixture of surprise

and unmistakable arousal in Fenn’s refl ection in the mirror

above the sinks, Micki’s clit fi nished stiffening. “It’s your turn

to watch.”

“If you’re pissed—”

“I’m not.” Micki kept one hand on Fenn’s shoulder, forcing

her forward and slightly off balance, and reached around with

her other hand to unbutton her fl y. “You wouldn’t let her touch

you. But you’re going to let me. Aren’t you?”

Fenn shivered lightly and spread her legs, her eyes meeting

Micki’s in the mirror. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.”

Micki angled her hips so her crotch rode against Fenn’s

thigh. The contact only made the spiraling pressure in her clit

worse and her control slipped a little. She shoved her hand into

• 166 •

In Deep Waters 2

Fenn’s jeans. “Oh, Jesus, you’re so fucking hard already.”

Fenn grunted softly, her hands white as she clenched the

counter for support.

“Did fucking that pretty little girl turn your clit into this

rock?” Micki grated, working her thumb and fi nger roughly up

and down Fenn’s clit. When she got no answer, she twisted.

“No,” Fenn said, sounding as if she were strangling. “You

watching me fuck her did that.”

“And this is what you always do after, isn’t it?” Micki

picked up speed, sliding the slippery hard length between her

fi ngers.

Panting, Fenn pumped into Micki’s hand. Sweat fl ew

from her hair and misted Micki’s face. In the mirror, her eyes

were dazed. “What?”

“Isn’t this what you always do?” Micki demanded, her

mouth against Fenn’s ear. “Make the girls come and then go

off somewhere alone and jerk off?”

“What do you think?” Fenn groaned defi antly.

Micki slowed down and gently massaged Fenn’s clit with

her fi ngertip. “I don’t think, I know.” She tapped rhythmically

and Fenn twitched. “You do it because they don’t know how to

give you what you need and you won’t ask.” She tapped again

and Fenn tried to pull away. “But I know.” Micki bit down on

Fenn’s bicep and pinched Fenn’s clit at same time.

Fenn threw her head back and roared. “Oh Jesus, Jesus.

That’s gonna make me come.”

“Look in the mirror,” Micki choked out. She rode Fenn’s

thigh and worked Fenn’s clit in long, deep strokes. Her own

clit beat restlessly, trapped and aching. “Watch me make you

come.”

Fenn’s mouth twisted into a grimace, her eyes beseeching

as they held to Micki’s. “I need it hard. Please. Please don’t

let up.”

• 167 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I know what you need.” Micki kissed the rigid angle of

Fenn’s jaw, her face resting alongside Fenn’s as she watched

their refl ections. “Keep your eyes open.”

“I’m right there.” Fenn sounded as if she might cry. “Do

me faster?”

“Don’t worry, you’re going to come,” Micki said with

confi dence, reaching around Fenn’s chest with her free hand

and palming her breast. She squeezed Fenn’s nipple and pulled

hard on her clit. Fenn’s eyes rolled back and her legs buckled.

“Oh yeah. There you go.”

Fenn’s eyes slammed shut and she sagged forward over

the sink. “Uh uh uh uh.”

Micki massaged Fenn’s clit until it softened and her

tortured groans tapered off to an occasional moan. As soon as

Micki was certain Fenn was done, she pulled her hand free of

Fenn’s jeans and fumbled with her own. Then her fi ngers were

on her clit and she was jerking off. It felt so good her legs gave

out and she clutched Fenn to stay upright.

“Oh, fuuck. ” Micki pressed her face to Fenn’s shoulder,

about to go off.

Fenn yanked Micki’s hand out of her pants, grabbed her

hips, and swung her around and up onto the counter. Before

Micki knew what was happening her jeans were down around

her ankles and Fenn was between her legs.

“I think this is mine,” Fenn muttered, and went down on

Micki’s clit.

Fenn’s mouth was so hot, her tongue so insistent, that

Micki started to lose it right away. She thrust both hands into

Fenn’s hair and tried to push her off. “Fenn, baby. I’m going to

come in your mouth.”

Fenn grabbed her wrists and clamped them to the counter

on either side of her body. She sucked harder, her mouth a

vice, and Micki exploded into her. When she couldn’t take the

• 168 •

In Deep Waters 2

sweet beat of Fenn’s tongue another second, she begged Fenn

to stop. Fenn straightened up and pulled her into her arms.

Micki dropped her head onto Fenn’s shoulder and clung to her

so she didn’t slide off the counter.

“Fuck. I tried to hold out. Sorry.”

“I don’t remember me asking you to,” Fenn said in a low,

pleased rumble. She stroked Micki’s hair and massaged the

muscles in the back of her neck. “You know, there’s probably

a line outside the door.”

“I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did.” Micki laughed

and wrapped an arm around Fenn’s neck, dragging her head

down to kiss her, hard and deep. “You’ll have to leave me

here, because I don’t think I can walk.”

“Not a chance.” Fenn eased Micki down from the counter

and kept an arm around her waist until she was steady. Between

kisses, they tucked in Tshirts and buttoned up fl ies.

“Are you playing tomorrow?” Micki asked.

“Tomorrow’s a bye day for me,” Fenn said.

“So you don’t need a whole lot of sleep tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on getting much.” Fenn threw her

arm around Micki’s shoulder as they headed toward the door.

She unlocked it and when they stepped through, three or four

women applauded politely and streamed past them into the

restroom.

“There goes your reputation,” Micki said.

Fenn stopped, her arm still around Micki, and regarded

her intently. “If they got the idea I thought I was leaving with

the hottest woman here tonight, they’d be right.”

Micki grabbed the back of Fenn’s jeans and curled her

thumb through a belt loop. “I’ve been rolling the dice really well

tonight. Looks like I’ve got me another winning come out.”

“Roll ’em easy or hard, baby.” Fenn kissed her. “Any way

you want it, I’m game.”

• 169 •

• 170 •

In Deep Waters 2

DOUBLE DOWN

Radcly f fe

T his is the best birthday trip ever,” Jeannie Bryant

said, stretching out her arms and twirling in the

center of their suite. “I can’t believe how much fun

I’m having. Did you like the show?”

“Sure. It was super.”

Randy Michaels stuffed her hands in the pockets of her

best black trousers and fi gured there was no point in saying

that she would have been just as happy to watch a movie in

the privacy of their room, where they could kick back and

eat popcorn and make out a little bit. She’d spent six months

planning this surprise birthday trip, and she wanted everything

to be just perfect for her wife of almost ten years. Jeannie

deserved a whole lot more than that for putting up with her for

all that time. Randy regarded her still smiling birthday girl with

a mixture of pride, amusement, and pleasure. Five feet three

inches of blond-haired, blue-eyed exuberance, Jeannie was the

best looking woman in Cherokee County. Hell, probably in

• 171 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

the entire state of Texas. Possibly the whole United States of

America. She didn’t look one minute older than she had at

eighteen, when Randy had fi rst laid eyes on her at the rodeo.

Jeannie was barrel racing with the rest of her family, who

had been on the rodeo circuit for three generations. Twelve

years older and nothing much to write home about in the looks

department, Randy couldn’t believe that Jeannie had given her

the time of day. But Jeannie always said it was love at fi rst

sight, and since she’d never even heard of Michaels’ Oil, after

a while, Randy had believed her. And here they were.

“You’re lying to me, Randy Michaels,” Jeannie said, her

hands on her hips. She was trying to work up a frown, but it

wasn’t very convincing. “I know you hate listening to people

sing songs you don’t even know the words to.” She wrapped

her arms around Randy’s neck and snuggled her soft curves

into the lean planes of Randy’s rangy body. “I know you’d

rather be astride a horse, out riding around that ranch, checking

up on the wells and scaring all the roustabouts.”

Laughing, Randy looped her arms around Jeannie’s waist.

“None of them are scared of me.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve seen their faces when you light into them

for not sticking to the schedule.” Jeannie leaned back, hooked

her fi nger around the onyx and silver clasp on Randy’s bolo

tie, and pulled one leather strand free. Then she proceeded to

pick out all the studs on Randy’s tuxedo shirt. “And I know

you don’t like getting all duded up.”

“What I like is putting a smile on your face.” Randy

nuzzled Jeannie’s neck and kissed the special place just under

the curve of her jaw that always made her eyes get soft and

dreamy. “I want you to know how lucky I feel to have caught

you when you could have had anyone.”

Jeannie slid her hands inside Randy’s shirt and worked

her fi ngers into the tight muscles in slow, fi rm circles, sliding a

• 172 •

In Deep Waters 2

little lower every now and then to brush her nipples. “I roped

you, as I recall.”

Thinking back to that time in the barn when Jeannie had

tossed a lasso over her head and dragged her into the hayloft,

Randy felt a sharp twinge between her legs. Dropping a hand

down to Jeannie’s tantalizingly fi rm butt, she pulled her tight

against her crotch. “Oh yeah, I remember.”

“And don’t think just because you always get to me fi rst,

I’m not always thinking about hog-tying you and having my

way with you again.”

Randy frowned, trying to fi gure out if there was a message

in there for her somewhere, but she wasn’t thinking quite right

because Jeannie had started in on her nipples. Just rubbing them

between her fi ngers, casual like. Now the twinge down low in

her belly switched to a steady pounding. “Is there something

you want in the bedroom department you’re not getting?”

Jeannie kissed Randy’s throat. “When have you ever

known me not to tell you just exactly what I wanted?”

“Come to think of it, never.” Randy massaged Jeannie’s

butt with both hands, loving the way Jeannie made little purring

sounds and rubbed herself up against her like a cat.

“Let’s get out of these fancy clothes,” Jeannie said, “and

cuddle up in bed. We can watch a movie. I know that’s what

you’d rather have been doing all night, anyhow.”

Randy fi gured there was no point in protesting, because

Jeannie could always tell when she was shining her on. She

kissed her, sliding the tip of her tongue back and forth over the

wet, soft surface of Jeannie’s lips. “It’s your birthday, baby.

We’ll do anything you want.”

“Well then, let’s get ready for bed, and I’ll see what I’m

in the mood for.”

By the time Randy got out of the rest of her clothes and

pulled on an old pair of baggy blue cotton boxers she liked

• 173 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

to sleep in, Jeannie had let her hair down, stripped off her

makeup, and donned an equally old, thigh length white T-shirt.

Together, they arranged the pillows and climbed under the

covers. Jeannie scooted close to Randy and threw one leg over

Randy’s so her thigh snugged into the crotch of Randy’s boxers.

Then she grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

“What should we watch?” Jeannie asked.

“You pick this time.” Randy really didn’t care what they

watched, because all her attention was on the way Jeannie was

absently rubbing her leg up and down between hers. She’d

been more than a little turned on from the way Jeannie had

been fooling with her nipples, but now she was getting a right

serious bit of stiffness in her shorts. She was pretty sure there’d

be a nice big wet spot in the middle of the pale blue cotton

pretty soon, too.

“I’ve always wanted to watch one of these,” Jeannie said,

selecting the adult viewing choices. “Oh, look. They’ve got

one with just girls.”

Before Randy could gather her wits to protest, Jeannie

keyed in the selection. And sure enough, within a second, the

screen was fi lled with half-naked women.

Randy stared while Jeannie laughed. “They’re supposed

to be sharing a day at a beauty spa. I’ve never seen anybody

doing that at the one I go to.”

“Geez, I should hope not,” Randy said as the three

“customers” shed all of their clothes and started oiling up each

other’s bodies in preparation for their group massage. “I didn’t

know you liked this stuff.”

“What?” Jeannie said, shifting her thigh away from

Randy’s crotch. “A massage or X-rated movies?”

“The movies.” Randy divided her attention between what

was happening on the screen and trying to fi gure out how to

• 174 •

In Deep Waters 2

get Jeannie’s leg back where it had been. “If you told me, I

could’ve—”

“Lover, look. They’re getting right down to business.

Shush now, and watch.”

Randy’s feelings might have been bruised if it hadn’t

been for the fact that Jeannie reached over and put her hand

high up on the inside of Randy’s thigh, just underneath the

leg of her boxers. Knowing Jeannie’s fi ngers were only inches

from where she really, really wanted them made Randy’s clit

stand up. She had a second’s worry that maybe Jeannie would

think she was getting turned on by what was happening on

the screen, but then she noticed her lover’s rapt expression.

Jeannie’s lips were slightly parted and her eyes wide as she

stared at the three admittedly great-looking women kissing and

fondling each other’s breasts and sliding all over one another

in the middle of a big bed. Jeannie’s breathing had gotten a bit

fast and her nipples made two nice little tents in the front of

her T-shirt, too. Huh.

Moving carefully so as not to distract her, Randy eased

her arm behind Jeannie’s back and reached around her side

so her fi ngers cradled the curve of Jeannie’s breast. It was a

sneak-up-on-’em move she’d perfected when she’d been a lot

younger and she wasn’t quite certain how far her date was

willing to go. Casually, she feathered her fi ngers back and

forth over Jeannie’s breast. Jeannie cuddled up a little closer

and rested her head against Randy’s shoulder, her gaze still

riveted to the screen.

“Do you think her breasts are real?” Jeannie murmured.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s hard to tell these days.” Randy

kissed Jeannie’s temple and inched a little closer to her

nipple.

“Mine aren’t nice and perky like hers.”

• 175 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Yours are perfect.” To prove it, Randy cupped Jeannie’s

breast. The soft cotton T-shirt did nothing to dampen the heat

radiating from Jeannie’s fi rm fl esh, and when Randy fl icked

her thumb over the taut nipple, Jeannie twitched and moaned

softly.

“Maybe I should shave my pussy like that,” Jeannie

mused.

“Do you want to?”

On the screen, a blonde and a brunette were French kissing

while a redhead played with the brunette’s breasts. Randy

twirled her fi nger around Jeannie’s nipple the same way the

redhead worked her tongue around the brunette’s hard, fl ushed

nipple.

“Mmm.” Jeannie bent her legs into a vee and rocked her

hips. Her T-shirt pulled up until the blond triangle between

her thighs peeked out. “Hers looks pretty sexy, all pink and

wet like that. I bet if I did, it would feel really nice when you

licked me.”

Randy’s clit jumped around at the thought of how sweet

Jeannie tasted. Slow, go slow. “If you want to, we’ll do it.”

“I don’t know though. I always want to come as soon as

you start licking me.” Jeannie rested her index fi nger on the

base of Randy’s clit. “I might not be able to hold out at all if I

get any more sensitive.”

“Aw, Jesus, baby,” Randy breathed, her stomach tying

itself into knots. She kept massaging Jeannie’s breast and

caressed her bare thigh with her other hand. “Whatever you

want.”

Jeannie glanced away from the TV and met Randy’s gaze.

Her eyes were liquid, heavy lidded, and her mouth curved with

pleasure. She pressed down on Randy’s clit. “So will you do it

for me? Shave me?”

“Sure.” Randy was having a hard time getting the words

• 176 •

In Deep Waters 2

out. Her chest was so tight she couldn’t take a deep breath. Please

stroke it. Please stroke it. Please please please, stroke it.

“You’ll have to put shaving cream all over me with your

fi ngers.”

“Uh-huh,” Randy managed. Just when she thought she

couldn’t get wound up much tighter, Jeannie pushed her hand

a little deeper inside Randy’s boxers and took a hold of her

clit. She thought the top of her head might come off, but she

forced herself to be cool. Jeannie’s birthday, Jeannie’s call.

Except, oh God, Jeannie wasn’t doing anything with her clit,

just gripping it between her fi ngers. Hard. It felt so good she

wanted to cry.

“And you’d have to cover my clit with your fi ngers so,

you know, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Uh-huh.” Randy pressed her fi ngers on the clit in

question, and Jeannie caught her lower lip between her teeth.

One of the girls in the movie started to pant and moan.

Jeannie glanced over at the screen. “She’s getting her clit

licked. She’s all swollen and wet. I don’t think she’s faking.”

Randy pumped her hips; she couldn’t help it. If Jeannie

didn’t do something soon, squeeze her or stroke her or just

fucking move her fi ngers a fraction of an inch, she was going

to break down and blubber like a baby.

“I bet if you were licking her she would have come

already.”

“Oh fuck,” Randy groaned. She wasn’t watching the movie,

she was watching Jeannie get excited watching the movie, and

the sound of a woman in the middle of a screaming orgasm

was defi nitely having an effect. Jeannie squirmed and pushed

Randy’s fi ngers down until they were just at her opening. At

the same time, she started that wonderful, miraculous, up-anddown sliding motion on Randy’s clit that always made her

come.

• 177 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Do you think you could fuck me?” Jeannie breathed,

guiding Randy’s fi ngers inside her. “Just a little?”

“Just a little?”

Jeannie nodded vigorously, her lips parted, her neck and

upper chest pink with pre-orgasmic fl ush. “Don’t make me

come yet.”

Randy eased just her fi ngertips inside and cupped her

palm over Jeannie’s clit, rubbing softly. “Good?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeannie panted, working Randy’s clit faster as

the second woman and then the third started to come. Jeannie

gripped Randy’s hand between her legs and started to ride.

“Oh, lover, I think I’m going to come soon. But I don’t want

to!”

“Watch the movie, baby,” Randy whispered and glided all

the way inside her. She knew Jeannie was going to come. She

could see it in her face, the way her body quivered, the way her

breath came out in tiny sobs. And the closer Jeannie got, the

faster her hand moved between Randy’s legs.

Jeannie whimpered. Randy shot another look at the screen

and saw the redhead writhing on the bed while the blonde

pumped her fi st between her legs. Jeannie gushed around her

fi ngers, and Randy gave it up. “Oh fuuck!”

“Me too!” Jeannie cried, slamming her hand down over

Randy’s, pushing Randy as deep inside as she could. “Oh,

lover, I’m coming so hard.”

Jeannie slumped against Randy, her thighs clamped tightly

around Randy’s hand, hers still between her legs holding

Randy inside. “God, they’re not even my type.”

Randy started to laugh. “Jesus, I’m glad to hear that,

because I don’t look anything like them.”

“Believe me, lover, if I saw one of them in the bar, I

wouldn’t look twice.” She kissed the side of Randy’s neck.

• 178 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I think it was mostly us watching it together that got me so

horny.”

“I liked watching you watch them,” Randy confessed.

“Yeah?” Jeannie nibbled on Randy’s earlobe. “I liked

watching. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Fuck, no. I think it’s incredibly sexy.”

Jeannie toyed with Randy’s clit. “Did you see that big

sign in the lobby about the Escort organization that’s meeting

here?”

“Uh-huh. Baby, cut that out or you’re going to make me

come again.”

“And that would be bad, why?”

“Never mind. Shortage of blood to my brain.”

“It’s still my birthday, right? And you did say I could plan

all our activities.”

Randy nodded, a few seconds away from blast off.

“Movies are fun, but I think I’d rather see a live show.”

Jeannie obviously didn’t expect an answer, which was good,

because Randy was in the middle of a mind-melting orgasm.

“Maybe I could hire an escort…or two.”

• 179 •

• 180 •

In Deep Waters 2

UPPING THE ANTE

Karin Kallmaker

You’re in my seat, I think.” Kitty showed her ticket

stub to the elegantly turned out woman whose mink

and large Gucci bag took up her own seat, therefore

requiring her to sit in Kitty’s.

With a disapproving sniff, the woman somehow managed

to get her stuck up butt into her assigned seat on Kitty’s left.

Like it was a hardship, Kitty thought. The closed-circuit room

seating was a series of wide, comfortable cushioned chairs,

suitable for anyone’s living room, and tiered to give every seat

a prime view of the enormous fl at screen TV.

She sank down into the cushions, aware that she’d already

been checked out by the three frat boys seated behind her.

Infi nitely more pleasing was the nod of greeting from the

brunette on her right. “Hi, you.”

Wahine gave her a pleased look. “Glad you made it. How

did those Prada shoes work out for you?”

“Haven’t tried them yet. This weekend is vacation.” She

• 181 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

settled comfortably into her seat. After shopping together on

Thursday, she’d lost track of Wahine, but had relaxed knowing

they’d meet again tonight. They were the same age; they both

lived in the L.A. area, and were in the business for the same

reason: money for college. UCLA and USC weren’t cheap.

“Did you go to any of the sessions on cyber opportunities?”

“I did. It’s a lot of investment.”

“But it’s safe. Safer.”

“Yeah, that’s true. The best piece of advice was probably

forming a partnership and sharing bandwidth.”

Kitty nodded, and would have asked if Wahine was

making a proposal—they lived about thirty minutes apart—

but the broadcast began with a splash of music.

“Can I get you a drink?” Kitty rose quickly, wanting to be

settled before the competition actually got underway.

“I’d love a rum and Coke. I’ll get the next one.” Wahine

smiled her thanks and Kitty had the tantalizing thought that

her lush form was as ripe as a peach in August, curving in all

the right places. The moment they’d met, Kitty had thought

the wide, red-lipped mouth was very, very kissable.

At least when she looked at Wahine her tongue wasn’t

actually hanging out of her mouth and she didn’t rub her

genitals either. The three frat boys, sprawled over their chairs

with legs propped up on the arms, were giving her that kind

of look. She wanted to plant the toe of her sedate sling backs

right on Mr. Stanford’s balls. She didn’t think anything about

her attire announced her part-time profession, but he was so

certain of his animal charm that he looked at her boldly, like

he’d already paid and there was no way Kitty could say no.

He didn’t even bother to get out of his chair. “Hey, babe,

can I get that drink for you?”

Kitty made a show of looking around, like she couldn’t

fi gure out who he could possibly be speaking to. The bartender

• 182 •

In Deep Waters 2

gave her his attention and she ordered two rum and Cokes. She

ignored a similar outburst on her way back to her seat.

The uptight woman with the mink gave her a look like she

couldn’t fi gure out how Kitty could afford to be in the same

room with her. What was with the mink coat? It was August

in Las Vegas, and four zillion degrees outside. Kitty returned

the look with a sweet smile, thinking that she’d saved up for

this treat of a trip, and worked extra hours at her job at the

warehouse store, so when she found a cheap last minute ticket

for something fun, she’d grabbed it. Money from her escort

services went one hundred percent for tuition.

Just loud enough, she said, “Do you know what some

people paid to get into this broadcast?”

“Way more than we did—that scalper was desperate.”

Wahine accepted the drink with a smiled thank you. “There’s a

full open bar and buffet in the Titanium room. For us, however,

I have brought some peanuts.”

“That’s more my budget.” Kitty curled into her seat, glad

of her comfortable jeans. “This sort of feels like going to a ball

game, doesn’t it?”

“I know just what you mean.” Wahine toasted her with the

glass, sipped, and Kitty didn’t linger too terribly long on the

sight of those wonderful lips closed around the delicate straw.

The announcers began their patter, predicting the fates of

the fi nalists in the Seven-Card Stud Tournament. Two of the

players were women, Kitty was happy to see, and the darkeyed Texan was immediately her favorite. She leaned toward

Wahine. “She’s yummy.”

Wahine made a noise of agreement, but to Kitty’s surprise

the stuck-up woman on her left said, “Yes, she is.”

Kitty gave her a look of amusement and entertained herself

with visions of the Texan helping Ms. Mink with that stick up

her ass. Her mother would have slapped her for having such

• 183 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

a base and hateful thought, but it was exactly the kind of sass

Kitty had learned eavesdropping on her mother and the other

church ladies.

The poker got very interesting, very tense, very quickly.

She and Wahine made their way through the bag of peanuts in

short order, crack-peel-munch, crack-peel-munch. The motion

of chips sliding across the green tables, the heavy snick as they

stacked, it was mesmerizing. The stakes went higher, the bluffs

got bigger, and by the halfway point, both the women had been

eliminated. It broke Kitty’s heart to see the Texan go.

She was telling Wahine as much when Ms. Mink collected

her belongings and fl ounced out of the room. Maybe she’d had

a big bet and lost it all.

“Maybe she’s going to console the loser.” Wahine drained

the last of her drink.

“I don’t know. She seemed too uptight to think of anyone

but herself.”

“Tightly wound women can be a lot of fun when they

unwind. I wouldn’t mind being a fl y on the wall later.” Wahine

shifted her hips suggestively in her seat and Kitty had a

wonderful moment fantasizing about getting down on her knees

to see how much more she could make those hips move.

When the broadcast went to intermission, Kitty found she

was stiff. “That was really intense.”

“I’ll get the drinks this time,” Wahine said. She pushed

her long black hair over her shoulder and the light sparkled

off the large gold hoops that graced her ears. Earlobes, Kitty

thought, are the softest part of a woman’s body.

Kitty watched her get to her feet. Goodness, the woman

fi lled out those slacks. “I’ll go to the gift shop and see if I can

get us some more snacks.”

They walked together to the door of the viewing room to

• 184 •

In Deep Waters 2

fi nd that Mr. Balls-in-Need-of-Squashing was blocking their

way. “Surely you ladies could use a drink.”

“No, thank you,” Kitty said primly.

“C’mon, we’re generous guys.”

Kitty said sharply, “We’re quite able to take care of

ourselves. We don’t need your…generosity.”

He was too drunk to let it go, not with two buddies egging

him on. “Didn’t I see you going into one of the sessions for the

escorts? What do you ladies talk about?”

Wahine sounded philosophical as she said, “How to fake

it. That was a good class.”

“Excuse me,” Kitty said fi rmly. “I have already acquired

this lovely woman’s services as an escort for the evening, so

you’re going to have to fi nd someone else. If you can.”

She put a possessive hand on Wahine’s back and arched

her crotch suggestively. “Come on, baby, I need to relieve

some stress before the game starts up again.”

Wahine was still laughing when they reached the nearest of

the hotel bars. “I’ll get the drinks here to avoid those losers.”

“Don’t go back inside without me.”

Kitty headed for the lobby gift shop, but her nose

was tickled by a familiar aroma and she followed it to the

convention hall. To her delight, there was a party underway

for—she glanced around, checked out the sensible shoes—the

librarians. Cash was being exchanged for hot dogs, popcorn,

and pizza by the slice, so she got in line. From where she stood,

she watched some very elegant women hurrying to the grand

ballroom where some kind of awards event already appeared

to be underway. For the romance writers or the surgeons, she

wondered.

Hot dogs acquired, she scooted back to the upper fl oor

where the sporting events were broadcast. Loud cheers were

• 185 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

issuing from one room—sounded like boxing. Wahine was

waiting outside their room, a drink in each hand.

“I have manna from heaven,” Kitty said. She waved the

hot dogs.

“Oh, you are an amazing woman.”

“Why, thank you. Oh, wait.” She stayed Wahine with a

gesture. “You can’t go in there looking like that.”

“Like what?”

Holding the hot dogs with one hand, Kitty quickly mussed

her own hair and undid the top button of her blouse with the

other.

Wahine laughed again—Kitty thought the sound of women

laughing was one of the best things in the world—and kept

giggling while Kitty mussed her hair too, and made similar

adjustments to her shirt. “Do we look like we’ve been up to no

good now?”

“Not quite,” Kitty said. “You still have too much lipstick

on.”

Wahine was passive until the moment Kitty’s lips touched

hers, then she made a little noise and opened her mouth to

Kitty’s eager exploration. When Kitty fi nally stepped back,

she felt more than a little drunk. Those lips were just as soft

and inviting as she thought they’d be. She wanted in the worst

way to run her tongue over the coffee-with-cream skin.

“Now,” she said quietly, “we look like we’ve been up to

no good.”

Wahine’s eyes were slightly glazed. “I like my shade of

lipstick on you.”

“That’s not the only thing of yours I want on me,” Kitty

said as she opened the door.

The men noticed their return but said nothing, thank

goodness, or Kitty would have been tempted to let them see

just what it was they’d never, ever have.

• 186 •

In Deep Waters 2

Once they were seated, Wahine leaned close enough to

ask, “Was that comment for them or me?”

Time for a little honesty, Kitty thought. “I don’t give a

crap about them. I was just trying to fi gure out a way to kiss

you.”

Wahine’s lips quirked to one side. “Pretty quick thinking

for a UCLA girl.”

“That means the ball is in your court, USC girl.”

The second half of the broadcast was even more exciting

than the fi rst. By the time the last hand was on the table and

only the fi nal bluff and the fi nal call was left, Kitty’s heart was

beating so loudly she couldn’t hear the announcers.

It wasn’t the hands on the screen that had her enthralled;

it was Wahine’s hand in her pants.

The motion had started subtly, but now had a steady,

fl owing rhythm that Kitty had no trouble imagining on her own

clit. Wahine’s breathing was growing increasingly shallow,

and the outline of her nipples, large and full, was obvious.

Subtle, responsive jerks of her thighs made it easy for Kitty to

follow her rising excitement, and she envisioned her tongue

alongside Wahine’s fi ngers, enjoying the journey. She wanted

in the worst way to smell her.

There was a gasp and scattered applause from the others

in the room as something happened with the game, but Kitty

was caught by Wahine’s liquid gaze seeking out hers. A few

more strokes and her hips shuddered in the chair. All the while

she stared into Kitty’s eyes.

“That was the best fi nale ever!” The people in the row

ahead of them were standing up.

Kitty had no idea who had won the tournament. Wahine

pulled her hand back into sight, and Kitty swore she could see

silken wetness coating the sleek fi ngertips.

Neither of them moved. Wahine had her hand on her

• 187 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

abdomen, looking disoriented. Kitty was dizzy because all the

blood in her body had drained right to her clit. She wasn’t sure

she could stand up.

How strange, she thought, that every time with a woman I

feel like I’ve not really ever been turned on before. It’s not that

strange, she answered herself back. Escort service is with men.

And you love women. It had been a long time since pleasure

had been a part of the equation.

Wahine fi nally stirred. With the room now mostly empty,

she said, “I think the ball is back in your court.”

“How about in my room?” She managed to get to her feet

without revealing how dizzy she was, but she was afraid when

she moved that Wahine would hear how wet she was.

Well, what if she did? She fully intended Wahine to feel

how wet she was. And soon.

They passed the three losers on the way to the elevator, but

if they had anything to say, Kitty didn’t hear it. The fountains

in the corner of the grand lobby, the paintings, the murals, all

of which had delighted her for the last several days—she saw

none of them. She was going to love a woman tonight and had

no attention to spare on irrelevant things.

Kissing a woman was full of sound. The resonant oh yes

in her head, the pounding of her heart, the rustle of eyelashes

brushing against a rounded cheek. Though she knew those

sounds, Kitty recorded them again in her memory, because

being with a woman didn’t happen often enough.

Though Kitty wanted to get to the bed, at the moment

there was no reason to move from the wall just inside the door.

She leaned into Wahine as their kisses explored and deepened.

When Wahine’s hands moved to her hips, pulling them closer

together, Kitty felt the heat fl owing into her pelvis, through her

skin and her bones. Firm, gentle hands, the fi ngers long and

purposeful—a woman’s touch.

• 188 •

In Deep Waters 2

“It’s been way too long since I’ve done this,” Wahine

murmured. “Can we take our time?”

“I was hoping to take all night.”

They kissed again to seal the agreement. Kitty ran her

fi ngers the length of Wahine’s hair, anticipating the heavy silk

of it on her stomach, against her thighs.

Each button undone on the blouse displayed new skin to

be licked, and at last she tasted the faint hint of salt as her nose

appreciated the cologne Wahine wore, with its faint notes of

sandalwood, oak, and rose.

What had begun as an evening watching a competition

of nerves had turned into a deeply welcome exploration of

different nerves, nerves that sent shivers of delight, shocked

awake memories and created fantasies. Her imagination

painted lusciously evocative pictures of Wahine in a hundred

poses, and composed a symphony of cries and moans as Kitty

explored the inside and outside of her.

Wahine rolled her onto the bed, removing clothes in

between languid kisses. They were both naked now, and Kitty

relearned the difference between the muscles of forearms and

the melting softness of breasts. The bumps of ribs under her

fi ngers made her mouth water with the desire to count them

with her tongue. She pushed Wahine onto her back to brush

her nose against a gloriously full nipple, and marvel at how

the tender underside of a breast could yield to tightly puckered

skin that begged for her teeth to tease, her tongue to lick, her

mouth to close down and lightly suck.

The crass frat boys, the rude woman—dealing with people

was an everyday trial, sometimes, and the irritations of daily

life had conspired with the stress of living to blot out how

wonderful, how natural it was to pause in reverent anticipation

just before dipping her tongue into a wet, full cunt. She

inhaled the sensual smell, and drank in the sight of gleaming,

• 189 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

wet folds, red and ready. Men tried to wound with the word,

but their opinion of her, and her cunt, was of no importance.

She knew its beauty, though sometimes she forgot. She was

reminded of it now, gazing at the tight, sleek folds of Wahine’s

cunt. She kissed it wetly, rubbed her lips along the beckoning,

opening slit until the inner folds were revealed, and then she

used her tongue.

Wahine’s groan of welcome was exactly what Kitty wanted

to hear, and she tasted, savored, licked up the wetness that

was only found in the beauty of a woman’s cunt. She rolled it

around on her tongue, savored the sweetness, the hint of salt,

and went back for more.

She sank fully to the bed, pulling Wahine’s legs over her

shoulders, slipping her hands under Wahine’s ass to tip her

up. The more she feasted the more there was to enjoy until

Wahine’s cries peaked. Less direct attentions, wet kisses on

the still pulsing clit, appreciative noises—Kitty didn’t stop her

adoration until fi ngers brushed her hair.

After a long minute of ragged breathing, Wahine said, “I

think you really wanted to do that.”

“I did.” She gave Wahine a philosophical smile. She

remembered the fi rst woman she’d ever touched, the last

woman she’d been with, and kneaded those memories

together to unveil her fantasy of a future where time and

mutual inclination brought her nightly to the same bed, with

the same woman. “This is the food of my life and I forget that

I’m hungry.”

Wahine pulled Kitty up to feather her fi ngers over her face.

“Then I think you’ll be pleased to know that I’m starving.”

• 190 •

In Deep Waters 2

INSURANCE

Karin Kallmaker

Excuse me, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but can I

ask you a question?” Pepper paused for breath and

hoped she didn’t sound like an insane person. She

didn’t often walk across a hotel lobby to approach a beautiful

woman standing at a bar.

The cool, elegant redhead gave Pepper an exaggeratedly

patient look. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

“What?” She began to turn her back, but paused when

Pepper tried to explain.

“See, there’s this fancy awards thing tonight, downstairs.

It’s like the Year of the Lesbian or something. I mean, I just

found out who’s getting the Lamplight Award and who’s giving

it away, and I want to get published. It won’t hurt for people to

see me with a gorgeous date, you know?”

The redhead blinked at her.

“I really am a lesbian.”

• 191 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Leaning slightly closer, the redhead asked, “Are you

drunk?”

“No! Seriously, I want to out myself. Tonight.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“I need an escort. Or to be with someone I’m escorting.

Your name badge says you’re with ESI. That’s the escort

service people, right? How does that work exactly?”

With a narrowed gaze, the redhead said carefully, “I

charge for my time according to what kind of escorting you

want. Strictly legal—I’ll even give you a receipt.”

“Well,” Pepper explained, “you’d need to look gorgeous

and lesbian and maybe act like we were the hottest couple

ever.”

The woman was going to laugh at her and tell her to

get lost; Pepper could see it in her eyes. She didn’t know

why she was having this conversation except, well, Carly

Vincent was the one, the one who’d set them all free, and she

hoped by the end of the night that she’d be able to say she’d

shaken Carly Vincent’s hand. And if Amelia Wainwright was

presenting the Lamplight Award like it said in the copy of

the program she’d pinched from the boxes being carried into

the ballroom, well, that was incredible. Amelia Wainwright

and Bryce Ambrose were an item, and everyone was buzzing

about it. Not to mention that incredibly sexy Barrett Lancey

and her terminally hot girlfriend Racie Racine. The lesbians

were freakin’ taking over and Pepper wanted to stand up and

be counted.

“I’ll pay you; I mean, I don’t know what you charge. But

even if all I could afford is to have you mingle at the cocktail

party before you get called away—maybe we could say you

were a doctor or something. What do you think?”

“I think you’re crazy.”

“That’s okay,” Pepper assured her. “I get that a lot.”

• 192 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I’m sure you do.”

“So what do you think?”

The woman shook her head in disbelief. “Well, I’m

already dressing for the night, so I suppose we could do the

cocktail party thing. An hour of glamorous lesbian fl irtation

for fi fty bucks.”

“It’s a deal. Just the insurance I needed. Thank you.”

Pepper hurried away, really embarrassed and all, and not

really believing she’d just hired an escort, then she turned

right around and went back to where the redhead was still

standing, all long legs accentuated by linen crop pants, and a

sexy wrap shirt that really, Sophia Loren would envy. “What’s

your name?”

“Cara.”

“I’m Pepper. You should probably call me that so people

will fi gure we’re on a date.”

“What time and where should I meet you, Pepper?”

“Oh yeah, hey, can you tell I don’t do this very often? It’s

a good thing you’ve got experience.” Pepper gulped. “That

didn’t come out right. I’m sorry, how about over there, next to

the reader board?”

“Time?”

“Oh, make it seven.”

“I’ll be there.” With that, Cara turned on her lovely sandal

heels and walked away.

Pepper stuffed the purloined program into her goodie bag.

Crisis handled. Imitating Cara’s elegant departure, Pepper

spun around. There was a thud on her head and a shock of

bright lights.

“Ow!” Pepper tried to pick herself up off the fl oor because

nobody looked good knocked fl at like that, but her head

smarted too much to get back on her feet quite yet.

“Are you okay?”

• 193 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I will be. I’m sorry; I wasn’t watching where I was

going.”

“No, I’m sorry. I was reading while I walked, and that has

gotten me in trouble from the time I was eight.”

Pepper looked up at her victim. Short, curly brown hair

was the fi rst thing she noticed, but then the brown-yellow

eyes—was that topaz or amber, she wondered—had all her

attention. Nice eyes, really warm. “What were you reading?”

“Bryce Ambrose’s latest.” The woman showed Pepper the

cover.

“Oh, so you’re a romance fan here for the book

signings?”

“No, actually, I’m a librarian, but when I saw who was

there, I got in line. There’s a lot of overlap between librarian

and reader. Do you need help getting up?”

“I got it.” Pepper hoped she looked more graceful than

she felt. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. You got the worst of it, I think.”

Now that they were eye to eye, Pepper could see that they

were, well, eye to eye. That made the librarian the same height

as she, around fi ve-three. Wait—she was wearing two-inch

heels and the librarian had on sensible shoes. So the librarian

was taller. Not that it mattered. If this meeting was something

she used in her writing she could make up anything she liked.

She could make the librarian into the six-foot raven-haired

beauty so popular of late. But she hadn’t a clue what it would

be like to kiss someone that tall.

Would fi nding out come under the topic of research?

It was a matter she was struggling with. How could she

write a love scene when she hadn’t actually done most of the

things she’d write about?

“I’m Sally.” The librarian held out her hand.

• 194 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Oh, sorry. I’m Pepper. Pepper St. Laurent. I think.”

“How hard was that bump on the head?”

“No, it’s a pen name. My fi rst name really is Pepper, but I

can’t decide on the rest.”

“Ah. Are you going to a session right now?”

“I don’t think so. I think there’s nothing happening because

it’s lunch time.” Pepper squinted at the schedule.

To her surprise, Sally reached over to pluck Pepper’s

glasses from her face. She produced a small squirt bottle of

cleaning solution from one pocket, then a soft cleaning tissue

from another. A minute later she put the glasses back.

“Wow. Thank you.” Amber, Pepper thought. Sally’s eyes

were amber.

“If you don’t have a session, would you like to have lunch

with me?” Sally gestured at the escalators that lead down a

fl ight to the concourse that connected several of the hotels on

this side of the Strip.

“I’d love to,” Pepper said.

The world’s best cheeseburger was followed by the

world’s best frozen custard, as proclaimed on the storefronts.

“That’s just it,” Pepper explained. “I think lesbians know

a woman’s heart better than anyone. She has to understand

her own, fi rst of all, and then if she falls in love, she has to

understand a second one, and that’s twice as many.”

Sally nodded solemnly. “How long have you wanted to

be a writer?”

“Since forever. Evidently, I was telling stories when I was

just a toddler.” Pepper paused in the act of licking another

dollop off her scoop of vanilla bean custard. “I’m really excited

to be here. I’m not usually quite so scattered.”

Sally’s eyes said she wasn’t convinced, but Pepper

decided to ignore that for now. The important thing was that

• 195 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Sally looked really quite engaging with a dollop of custard on

the end of her nose. Pepper used her napkin to dab it off.

Somehow, they forgot to go to their afternoon session. A

stroll through the main art gallery had led to a discussion of

art history and Sally had explained how cataloging non-fi ction

worked.

“We’ve got a baseball theme party in about an hour,” Sally

explained as they reached the Palace conference area again.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, it’s the big awards night. Everybody who’s anybody.

I have two tickets, I bought a spare in case I had a date, and I

guess I do.”

“You have a date?”

“Yes, her name is Cara, but it’s not like that. Would you

like to join me? I’m sure she’ll understand. Especially if I still

pay her the fi fty bucks.”

There are situations, Pepper refl ected later, that were out

of control before they were even begun, but there was no way

to know it.

First off, who would think that Bryce Ambrose would

remember Sally from that afternoon, and stop to speak to her

as they waited near the reader board for Cara to show up?

Sally quickly introduced Pepper, who stammered out her own

nervous praise as they shook hands and, really, Bryce Ambrose

had very warm, strong hands. She and Amelia Wainwright

were most certainly an item—the tender, melting looks would

inspire an entire chapter for Pepper.

And that was all fi ne, all good, more than Pepper had

hoped for the evening, really, and she’d waited contentedly

next to the reader board with Sally, talking about everything. It

was the place to be, because Barrett Lancey and Racie Racine

stopped right next to them to adjust the straps on Racie’s

Grecian-inspired sandals.

• 196 •

In Deep Waters 2

While she and Sally watched Barrett’s amazingly

articulated hands move up and down Racie’s calves—which

was really a treat—Cara arrived.

“Sweetie,” Cara cooed, and she wrapped her emeraldsheathed body around Pepper. “I fi nally woke up. You left me

so exhausted.”

“Um.” Not the best start, Pepper could admit that, but

before she could say anything else, Cara looked at Sally, very

nicely turned out in black dress slacks and a brocade vest, and

asked, “Who’s this?”

“My date,” Pepper said and that was quite possibly the

stupidest thing she’d said all day, even if it was true.

Barrett Lancey looked up from Racie’s legs, and Pepper

hadn’t really ever aspired to be outrageous to the point where

she could distract Barrett from something so lovely.

“Your date?” Cara blinked, and she seemed to be trying to

play along, but how could she know, Pepper had to allow her

that. “Since when are you into butch?”

“I’m a librarian,” Sally said.

Cara spread her hands. “I don’t have a clue. I’m sorry.”

“Here.” Pepper reached for one of the fl ailing hands, did

the two-hand clasp shake, leaving the folded bills in Cara’s

palm. “I’m really sorry it has to be this way.”

“Women, women, women,” Cara said. “You writers are

all alike.” Her dramatic sniff was somewhat undercut by her

puzzled expression as she walked away.

Sally, looking highly amused said, “Since when are you

into high femme?”

Barrett Lancey got up off her knee and smooched Racie.

“Does that work better?”

“Yes, darling, thank you.”

Pepper tried to think of something smart to say, something

that would supplant Barrett Lancey’s impression of her as a

• 197 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

womanizer. “I’m not into butch or femme, I’m into brains.”

“Oh.” Sally looked very pleased.

“It’s true,” Pepper added, and she realized it really was.

Barrett Lancey tucked Racie’s hand into the crook of her

arm, but before they walked away, she leaned over to Pepper

and said, “This is when you kiss her.” And she winked.

Sally liked the kiss, or Pepper guessed she did because

she kissed back, blushing.

By the time the awards program started, they’d dispensed

with what Sally termed poulet du rubber and two glasses of

wine. The expected people won the expected awards, but

the big moment for Pepper was Amelia Wainwright’s tearful

speech about Carly Vincent’s brave decision to come out more

than fi fteen years ago.

So Pepper had only a drawer full of rejections for her

fi rst novel, and maybe she’d never publish one, but she was a

lesbian, and she was proud to join in the thunderous applause.

She made mental notes in case she should ever, like in her

wildest dreams, be in the same position, and she hoped she

was as gracious and kind as Carly was. Thank your partner,

Pepper made especial note of that.

Sally liked to dance, that was also noteworthy. Sally liked

to make out in the restroom stall; that was also something

Pepper would never forget. By the time she was in Sally’s

room, naked and halfway to the Land of Happy, several of

Sally’s distinct likes were indelibly written on Pepper’s brain.

Sally liked fi ngers, right there, and when Pepper added

her tongue, it was clear Sally liked that, too. The inside of her

was hot silk on Pepper’s fi ngers, and when Pepper asked if

Sally was okay with three fi ngers or should she go back to two,

Sally said, “Don’t you dare stop.”

“I don’t want you to think I believe big is better or anything

like that.”

• 198 •

In Deep Waters 2

Sally wound her fi ngers in Pepper’s hair and said, “Shut

up and fuck me.”

Clearly, when you get that kind of direct instruction, it’s

wise to do as you’re told. Pepper kept herself from talking

by kissing Sally so hard there was no breath left in either of

them.

“I’m really kind of surprised,” Sally said later.

“By what?”

“I thought I was in the seventy percent of women who

don’t orgasm from penetration. But evidently not.”

Pepper smiled, pleased. “How do you know stuff like

that?”

“That I don’t usually enjoy what you just did quite that

much?”

“No, silly.” She smooched Sally on the tip of her adorable

nose. “The seventy percent stuff.”

Sally blinked. “I’m a librarian.”

“Are you going to say that every time you want to win an

argument?”

Sally just smiled.

• 199 •

• 200 •

In Deep Waters 2

ON THE HOUSE

Radcly f fe

When I noticed the little redhead check me out in

the mirror for the third time, I grabbed my beer

and slid off the bar stool. After four days of a

predominately male-populated medical meeting, I was ready

for a little female companionship. As I traversed a path between

the sofas and chairs to where she sat alone in the lounge with

her drink, she gave me a surprised look and then quickly

glanced away. Hmm, mixed signals it would seem.

“Hi, I’m Tristan,” I said as I dropped into a plush wingback

chair across the small dark wood coffee table from her. “Are

you here for one of the conferences?”

“No,” she said abruptly, not meeting my eyes. She hastily

fi nished her drink, grabbed her shoulder bag, and stood up.

“Sorry, I’ve got to be going.”

As she spoke, I noticed her look pointedly behind me, and

I shifted in my seat to see who was there. I didn’t have any

intention of getting in the middle of someone’s relationship.

• 201 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Turned out not to be a who, but a what. A security camera

perched in the far corner of the room, one of the hundreds that

were discreetly placed throughout the casino, the lobbies, the

elevators, hallways, and just about everywhere else, panned

in our direction. I guess when an establishment deals with

millions of dollars on a daily basis, they get pretty serious about

security. I hadn’t thought much about the spy cams until now,

but something about that camera was freaking her out. She

looked to be a few years younger than me, maybe twenty-fi ve,

and her low cut, very clingy emerald green dress went well

with her red hair. It also displayed some very nice cleavage

and a shapely ass in a tasteful but enticingly fl agrant manner.

The green eyes that had frankly appraised me a few minutes

earlier looked anxious now, and I was curious. Curiosity

tended to get me into trouble at times, but what fun was life

without a little risk? Women endlessly fascinated me, and at

the moment, this one had my antennae—and quite a few other

parts of me—abuzz.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” I asked, making a leap

of logic of the sort that had, on occasion, very nearly gotten my

face slapped. This time though, I could see I’d hit the mark.

When I stood up to walk out with her, her expression became

even more uneasy.

“I’ll be fi ne,” she said, “as long as you stay put and let me

get out of here.”

“Are you staying here at the hotel?” I didn’t move as she

sidled around me to leave. I didn’t want to make her situation

any worse, but I didn’t want her to just disappear either. I

wasn’t sure why, but I knew I’d be thinking about her the rest

of the night if I didn’t learn her story.

“No. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I waited until she disappeared onto the

casino fl oor, and then I sprinted across the lounge to the exit

• 202 •

In Deep Waters 2

on the opposite side of the bar, hustled through the casino,

across the lobby, and out to the street. She was just fl agging

down a cab.

“Hey,” I called, hurrying over to her. “If you’re not

comfortable inside, how about we take a walk?”

After staring at me for a second, she signaled a waiting

couple to go ahead and take the cab and then grabbed my arm.

I followed as she dragged me half a block down the street. She

stopped in front of the huge fountain that fronted the casino

hotel. Intersecting arcs of water, highlighted in rainbow hues

by the hidden spotlights focused on them, created elaborate

patterns against the night sky.

“Why are you following me?”

“Look,” I said, holding my hands up at chest level.

“I’m harmless, and if I’m bothering you or scaring you, I’ll

walk away right now. I saw you look at me back there in the

lounge, and I thought maybe you might want some company

for a while. I know I do.” When she didn’t turn around and

disappear, I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and handed

her my driver’s license. “Like I said, my name is Tristan. I’m

from Philadelphia, and I’m here for the trauma meeting.”

She shook her head as she regarded my license, then

handed it back. “You’re a doctor?”

I nodded. “Yeah. An anesthesiologist.”

“Here alone?”

I nodded again. “You?”

“I live here.”

“Are you a professional gambler?” I pocketed my wallet.

“No.” She stepped a little closer to me as a crowd of

raucous tourists passed by. “I was waiting for someone who

didn’t show.”

I shook my head. “Foolish of…her?” I said hopefully.

She shook her head.

• 203 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Ah, sorry. My mistake.” I grinned. “Wishful thinking.”

She smiled then, and the look she gave me as her eyes

swept up and down my body said I hadn’t been wrong in my

fi rst assumption. “It was a business meeting.”

“So then, back to my original proposition.” Taking a

chance, I reached for her hand. “We can take a walk, or I can

buy you another drink, or we could go somewhere quiet and

talk.”

“Talk?” She emphasized the word in such a way that let me

know she knew I was hoping for more than a conversation.

“Would that be a problem?”

“Unfortunately,” she sighed, “yes.”

“Because you’re in some kind of trouble.”

“I could be. It’s complicated.”

I tightened my grip on her hand. “I’ve got all night. In

fact, I’ve got all night and half the day tomorrow. I also have a

sister who is an attorney…”

“No,” she said quickly. “It’s not that kind of trouble. It’s

not even trouble the way you’re thinking of it.” She glanced

around as if to be sure we weren’t going to be overheard.

“Look. It’s like this. I was in the casino working. Meeting a

man. For the night.”

“And he didn’t show?” I’d never met a call girl before.

I’ve seen plenty of prostitutes in the ER or hanging out on

street corners in Center City, but this woman did not resemble

them. If she was selling her body, I didn’t think it was because

she had no place to sleep tonight.

“He should’ve called me to let me know where to meet

him. He didn’t.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Very.” She smiled a little ruefully. “The appointment

isn’t cheap. But, sometimes a wife shows up unexpectedly.

That kind of thing.”

• 204 •

In Deep Waters 2

“So you’re free for the night then?”

“That’s just it. I’m really not. And the casino has a thing…”

She grimaced. “I can’t be seen in there unescorted.”

I worked that around in my head for a few seconds. “You

don’t want anyone to think you’re freelancing.”

“I’d lose my job.”

“But if you’re there on a job, someone in hotel security

knows?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t even have stayed to fi nish that drink

when he didn’t show up, but…” She pressed her palm to my

chest. I’d blown off the afternoon session to play poker and

had on jeans and a cotton shirt with a T-shirt underneath. I was

way underdressed compared to her. “I happened to see you at

the bar and I guess I got distracted.”

“So you can’t go back inside with me unless someone

tells security you’re there on a job.”

“Right. And I need to report back in and let them know

my client was a no-show.”

“Will they arrange another client for you tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll hire you.”

She laughed, and then when she realized I was serious, she

leaned into me and kissed me. She tasted a little like cinnamon

and she smelled of something dark and lush and decadent.

When her tongue skimmed my lips and inside my mouth for

just a second, I was instantly and completely aroused.

“Why would you do that?” she asked.

“Because I want to spend the night with you.”

“Enough to pay for it?”

“Why not?”

“You’re serious.” She rolled her hips, soft and slow,

against my crotch. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not why I

kissed you.”

• 205 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I didn’t think it was.” I held her tight to me with one arm

around her waist. “We need to go somewhere more private.

Tell me who I should call or what I should do so you can come

to my room.”

When she just stared, I added, “Please.”

“Just a second.”

Without taking her eyes off mine, she fumbled in her big

shoulder bag and pulled out a cell phone. She turned in my

arms so her ass was against my crotch, punched in a number,

and spoke quietly for a minute. While she talked, I tried hard

not to rub against her, but my clit was a mile long and every

inch was throbbing.

“They’ll arrange it,” she said, closing her phone. She

leaned her head back against my shoulder and looked up at

me. “We can do the business details later. Okay?”

I kissed her neck. “Let’s go.”

I held her hand until we were almost to the hotel lobby,

and then I released it, conscious of the cameras everywhere. I

doubted that anyone in Las Vegas with a secret ever really kept

it secret, but I wasn’t going to be anyone’s show. And I didn’t

want her to be either.

“I’ve been calling you Beautiful in my mind,” I said as

we stepped into the elevator, “which is true, but I think a fi rst

name would be nice, too.”

“Have you done this before?” Her question came out

sounding seductive, not accusatory.

“No, why?”

“You’re awfully smooth.”

I put my arms around her and kissed her. To hell with

the cameras. “You’re beautiful and I am seriously turned on.

Believe me, I’m not working a line.”

“It’s…” she hesitated for a heartbeat, then said, “Meg.”

And I knew she was telling me her real name. I kissed her

• 206 •

In Deep Waters 2

again. “Meg. Like I said, beautiful.”

The doors opened and I led her down the hall to my suite.

Once inside, I didn’t quite know what to do. I’d brought women

who I’d just met back to my apartment or my hotel room on

occasion, but never under quite these circumstances. The one

thing I didn’t want it to seem was businesslike. I shoved my

hands in the pockets of my jeans and rested back on my heels.

Meg walked to the side of the bed and put her shoulder bag

down near the side table.

“There’s a couple of things you should know,” Meg said

as she sat on the side of the bed and removed her shoes.

I walked over and stood in front of her, unbuttoning my

shirt, since it seemed like that was something I was going to

have to do sooner or later. I pulled it off and untucked my

T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing anything under that, or under my

jeans, come to think of it. I waited to take my cue from her.

“You didn’t ask me anything about my work,” she said.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“I don’t have intercourse with men.”

I don’t know why, but the frank talk about sex was making

me even more horny. I popped the top button of my jeans and

unzipped my fl y.

“But you said—”

“My client was a man, yes, but my clients ask for me for

a certain reason.” When I didn’t say anything, she explained.

“They don’t fuck me. I fuck them.”

I caught my breath and couldn’t help but look at her

shoulder bag next to the bed.

“Usually when they’re restrained,” she added as she

reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. The thin

spaghetti straps fell from her shoulders and her breasts were

bare. She wasn’t a large woman, but her breasts were slightly

oversized for her slim torso. They were a little too heavy to

• 207 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

stand completely upright, but they were lush and full and I

wanted to hold them. If she hadn’t said what she’d just said, I

would have reached for them instantly. Instead, I held back.

“Is that the way you like it?” I sounded hoarse and had to

clear my throat before I fi nished, “Being in control?”

“Most of the time I don’t like it or dislike it.” She stood

and let the dress fall to the fl oor. She was nude, her slim, pale

body curved in all the right places. “It’s a job.”

She grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and yanked it up

so I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her drag it over

them and off. Then she gripped the waistband of my jeans and

pushed them down my thighs. I stepped out of them along

with my shoes and socks.

“I’d like to fuck someone for the pleasure of it.” She

caressed my sides, brushed her fi ngers over my breasts, and

touched my face. “You. I’d like to fuck you.”

“I…uh…” What could I say? That’s not my thing? It’s not

my style. It’s not the position I’m used to. All true, but in that

moment, the idea of her, of Meg, taking pleasure in doing to

me whatever it was she wanted to do sent a jolt through me so

intense I almost doubled over. “Do you have what you need

in that bag?”

She smiled. “I do.”

“What should I do?”

“Lie down and let me make you feel good.”

The picture I had of us together was nothing like the reality

when, a few minutes later, I was on my back with my arms

stretched above my head and my wrists locked together with

soft leather restraints that Meg had somehow secured to the

frame. She’d obviously done this before, because it only took

her a few seconds. Now she was kneeling on the bed between

my legs, running her fi ngers up and down the insides of my

thighs. I’d turned the room lights down when we’d walked

• 208 •

In Deep Waters 2

in, but I could see her clearly in the dim light. Her mouth was

curved into an amused smile.

I didn’t doubt for a second she could tell exactly how

turned on I was, because I could feel the wetness on the inside

of my legs and I knew my clit was already full. She let me

know I was right when she casually brushed her fi ngertips

over it and my whole body went stiff as a board. She kept her

fi ngers there and dragged her bag up beside her. When she

pulled out a harness with a long fat cock attached, she gave

my clit a quick shake. I tried not to let my eyes roll back in

my head.

“Do you know what’s going to happen next?” she

whispered, her thumb and forefi nger slowly stroking my

erection.

“Pretty good idea,” I gasped. What I was really hoping

wouldn’t happen was me coming all over her in the next ten

seconds. “Can you ease up a little bit?”

She did, and I craned my head to watch her strap on. The

idea of a cock on her lusciously female form had my head

spinning and the rest of me twitching. “I’m going to come the

minute you’re inside me,” I warned.

“Don’t be so sure.”

Then for the hundredth time it seemed, she surprised me.

She worked one loop of the harness over my left leg, then my

right. “Raise your hips.”

My legs barely had enough strength left to do it, but I dug

my heels in, braced my shoulders, and lifted my hips so she

could slide the harness all the way up. The cock was double

headed, and she opened me with one hand and glided the short

c-curved end inside me before cinching down the straps.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped. “That’s gonna make me come.”

“You can come if you need to,” she said as she straddled

my hips. She cupped herself, then lubed the cock with her own

• 209 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

clear, thick essence. Gripping the shaft, she rubbed the head

between her lips and watched me watching her. “I don’t care

when you come or how many times you come. I’m going to

fuck you until I can’t move.”

Then she slid down on it to the base, her eyes closing as

she took it deep. The pressure of her weight on me with the

cock inside both of us drove the smooth head against the spot

inside me that always triggered my orgasm. This time I fought

it, because I wanted to feel her fuck us both.

She opened her eyes and leaned forward, bracing herself

with her hands on my shoulders. Rotating her hips in slow

circles, she stared into my eyes. “When I fuck them, I don’t

care if I come and I usually don’t.” Her voice caught and

her throat trembled. I tried to raise my head to kiss her, but I

couldn’t reach her.

“Tonight I’m going to come,” she whispered.

I couldn’t touch her with my hands or my mouth, but we

were connected. I lifted my hips and pushed into her as she

rotated, and when I pulled out she gave a little cry. She circled,

I thrust, and her fi ngers dug into my shoulders. Every time I

pumped, my clit struck the fl ared base and the fat curve inside

me massaged the spot that made my clit even harder.

“You want to come,” she murmured, her eyes glazed.

“Don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

“Bad?”

“Real bad.” I whined a little but I couldn’t help it. I needed

just a stroke or two on that one special spot. I needed it…god,

I needed it.

I must have said it out loud, because she laughed and moved

her hands from my shoulders to my breasts and squeezed.

“Go ahead and come. I’m going to.” Her fi ngers quivered

on my nipples and her words were barely a whisper. “Soon.

All over you.”

• 210 •

In Deep Waters 2

She was fucking me and I was fucking her and I couldn’t

keep from exploding. I felt my clit go off and my stomach

lurched and my hips jerked and I yelled. Then I was pounding

into her while I came out of my skin and she reared up and

screamed at the ceiling, and I knew she wasn’t holding

anything back.

I went limp after the crazy contortions stopped, and she

fell forward over me. After a second, I realized she’d released

my wrists and I wrapped my arms around her. The cock was

still inside both of us, and it moved back and forth inside me

as she moaned and rubbed her breasts and her belly over mine.

The pressure kept my clit hard, but she was the one out there

on the edge.

“Feels so good,” she moaned.

I cupped her ass and started to thrust inside her again. I

tossed her line back at her. “You want to come. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered against my neck. “Oh, yes. And

I’m going to. Now. Now.”

She shivered in my arms while her hips danced on the

length joining us and the sound of her coming against my

throat sent me off like a rocket. When I stopped coming, I was

pretty sure I’d never walk again because every muscle in my

body had turned to jelly.

“I love the way you fuck me,” I groaned.

She laughed and burrowed her face against my shoulder.

“Ditto.”

“Can you stay until tomorrow?”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

“Is there someone you have to call or something I have

to—”

“No.” She kissed me. “The only thing you have to do is

get ready to come again. Because all the rest is on the house.”

• 211 •

• 212 •

In Deep Waters 2

BETTING BLIND

Radcly f fe

T his wasn’t what I signed up for,” Ari Bianchi

muttered under her breath as she watched a naked

woman fold back the coverlet and sheets on a kingsized bed, arranging them in a precise diagonal from top to

bottom like a half-opened envelope. When she stretched out

on top of the crisp, unwrinkled sheets, the space beside her

remained closed, effectively signaling she didn’t welcome

company. Ari recognized the pattern, because she’d observed

exactly the same thing the last three nights. Although the

image on the monitor was black and white, it was crystal clear.

One thing a casino could be counted on for was top-of-the-line

surveillance equipment.

When she’d joined the security service at the Palace

after opting for some kind of active duty—hell, any kind of

activity—over remaining a deskbound cop, she hadn’t planned

on spending her time spying on guests. She didn’t mind

watching the tables for players who beat the house just a little

• 213 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

too often or escorting drunks and belligerent patrons back out

to the strip, but shadowing a woman through the casino and

into her bedroom made her feel sleazy. And that’s what she’d

been doing every night from midnight until eight a.m. for the

last three nights. After the fi rst two uneventful shifts, she’d

considered telling her boss she wanted off the detail. Then she

thought about Mulrooney and Williams, the other two offi cers

assigned to this target. They were okay-enough guys. Her

being a cop pretty much canceled out her being a woman in

their eyes, and they treated her like a colleague. Meaning they

felt free to tell off-color jokes and make sexual observations

about women in front of her. Of course, that might be because

she was a lesbian and they knew it and somehow thought

including her in their sexual byplay was a form of bonding.

It was hard to fi gure out what went on in a guy’s head, but

she knew exactly what Mulrooney and Williams would be

thinking if they were sitting where she was, watching Melinda

Baker arch her back and trail her fi ngertips delicately down the

center of her abdomen.

“Jesus,” Ari breathed, glad that her surveillance station

was separated from the main security area. She was alone

in an eight by eight room, sitting in a swivel chair in front

of a twenty-inch monitor watching a beautiful woman touch

herself. She knew what Melinda Baker looked like in the

fl esh. Five-ten, shoulder length, honey blond hair, long legs,

full breasts, and an intense, focused expression that gave her

almost too perfectly sculpted features a sexy edginess. So it

wasn’t much of a stretch to translate the stark black-and-white

image into living, breathing—Christ, very rapidly breathing—

Technicolor. Ari touched a fi ngertip to her earpiece, intending

to turn down the sound from the microphone connected to the

video camera in the corner of Melinda’s room. The urge to

protect Melinda’s privacy surprised her, but she hadn’t seen

• 214 •

In Deep Waters 2

Melinda do anything the slightest bit suspicious in three and a

half days. In fact, the longer the surveillance went on, the less

she liked it. Something wasn’t right—this woman wasn’t any

threat to the casino’s operation.

At the moment, the only threat Melinda Baker posed was

to Ari’s sanity. Melinda lightly scraped her nails, shining with

polish, in long, languid arcs between her navel and her pubis,

moving lower with each sweep of her hand. Ari shivered.

Before she could press the small button on her receiver to

mute the sound of Melinda’s breathing, a soft moan froze

her in mid-motion. God, there was nothing like the sound of

a woman’s excitement. The fi rst hint of that low, earthy purr

always made her wet, and tonight was no exception. She shifted

uncomfortably in her chair, embarrassed to feel her clitoris

stiffening. The rounded contours of Melinda’s full breasts

curved over the edges of her slender torso, and it was easy

to imagine their weighty softness in the palms of her hands.

Ari tightened her fi sts and willed herself to look away, but she

couldn’t. Melinda fl icked a tight nipple with her fi ngertip and

her lips parted with a soft sigh.

Mmm, so nice.

Ari groaned, her own hard nipples chafi ng against the

inside of her bra. It was all she could do not to pinch them

to ease the almost unbearable pressure. Melinda wasn’t in a

hurry. She ran both hands over her chest and belly, returning

to her breasts again and again, fondling them and fi ngering her

nipples. She panted softly, her legs indolently twisting in the

sheets, her head gently rolling from side to side. Minutes, hours

passed without Ari taking a breath. Her stomach ached from

the merciless pounding between her legs. Still, she remained

motionless, her gaze riveted to the monitor, her clenched hands

turned to stone on her thighs.

She should look away. There was no one else in Melinda’s

• 215 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

room; there was no reason for her to watch. Melinda’s fi ngers

plucked faster at her nipples, and her stomach hollowed as her

pelvis lifted.

Oh, I want to come.

Ari could taste her, sweet and hot on her tongue. Melinda

pressed the fi ngers of one hand into her pubis and circled her

clitoris with a fi nger of her other hand. She breathed in Ari’s

ear, small gasps and whimpers, and her fi nger twirled faster.

The muscles on the insides of Ari’s thighs quivered, and the

aching pressure at the base of her clitoris spread deeper into

her pelvis. Melinda twisted on the bed, her thumb and index

fi nger rapidly pinching the swollen prominence in the cleft

between her legs.

Oh god, I’m going to…oh god. Oh god oh…oh.

Ari grabbed the receiver and yanked it off her ear as a high,

thin wail fi lled her head. She threw the small device onto the

counter in front of her and buried her face in her hands, deeply

ashamed and so horribly aroused her whole body shuddered.

“Jesus Christ.” Ari reached out blindly, switched off the

monitor, and lurched to her feet. Her self-loathing was matched

only by her fury. She shouldered through the door into the main

security station where one of the other night operatives glanced

up at her, surprise written across his broad, fl orid face.

“Problem, Bianchi?”

“No,” she barked on her way to the door. “My target’s

decided to go for a stroll. I’ll be mobile for a while.”

“Roger that,” he called after her in a bored voice, turning his

attention back to the craps tables displayed on his monitors.

It took her close to fi ve minutes to ride the jammed elevator

down to the main fl oor, cross through the always-crowded

casino fl oor, and take the exterior glassed-in elevator to the

twentieth fl oor of the tower. Five minutes during which she

hoped Melinda Baker was still luxuriating in the afterglow.

• 216 •

In Deep Waters 2

If by some miracle her target decided to jump up and go for a

brisk walk to cool down, Ari would be looking for a new job.

As it was, she likely would be anyway.

“Crazy,” she murmured as she approached Suite 2011.

Halting in front of the unadorned door, she eyed the bell set

into the doorframe and asked herself what the hell she thought

she was going to accomplish. All she was likely to achieve

was getting herself reassigned or fi red, and someone else,

probably Mulrooney or Williams—she shuddered mentally at

the thought—would end up watching Melinda Baker for the

rest of her stay. Watching Melinda do whatever she did when

she had no idea anyone could see her. Not your problem, she

warned herself. Besides, there was probably a very good reason

why the woman was under surveillance, and it wasn’t her job

to demand explanations. It was her job to follow orders.

That thought had her reaching out to press the doorbell.

Following orders was exactly what had gotten her here in the

fi rst place. While she waited, she tried to formulate a plan

since she hadn’t been thinking of anything except the sight and

sound of Melinda’s gratifi cation and her own illicit pleasure

in it.

“Who is it?” a surprisingly musical voice asked from the

other side of the closed door.

“Security, Ms. Baker.”

Ari heard a solid thunk, and then the door was opening,

and she knew she’d made a big, big mistake. She stared, and

the casino and everyone in it faded into the far reaches of her

consciousness.

Melinda Baker held the door open just enough to look out

into the hall, her expression a mixture of question and concern.

Even though the wall sconces in the hallway were muted, the

residual fl ush of sexual satisfaction on her throat and in the

triangle of pale, perfect skin where her black silk robe parted

• 217 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

between her breasts was plain to see. Her blond hair was

tousled, the way it would have been if a lover had run her

fi ngers through it as they kissed. If Ari hadn’t just observed her

alone only moments before, she would have concluded she’d

interrupted the room’s occupant in the midst of lovemaking.

As it was, her own body still resonated with the aftermath of

almost sharing Melinda’s orgasm.

“Is there some problem?” Melinda’s eyes dropped to the

breast pocket of Ari’s navy blue blazer. “Ms. Bianchi?”

“No,” Ari said, then quickly added, “Yes. May I come in?”

Melinda unconsciously drew the silk more tightly closed

between her breasts with one hand, and after a moment’s

hesitation, stepped back. “Certainly.”

Ari turned sideways as she stepped into the narrow foyer

that led to the main part of the spacious suite. She did not

want to brush against Melinda’s body. Not only would it be

inappropriate, she didn’t think she could stand the contact

when her nipples strained to be touched and her stomach rolled

with the still-urgent need for release. The room was exactly as

she had seen it moments before, the far bedside lamp dimmed

to barely a glow, the bed covers precisely turned down, and

the faint impression of Melinda’s body pressed into the sheets

where she had just climaxed. Ari turned her back to the bed,

hoping to banish the visual memory, and found Melinda only

a few feet away, one hand in the pocket of the robe that came

just to mid-thigh. With her other hand she brushed strands of

loose blond hair back from her face.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Ari said, glancing up to the

crown molding that edged the ceiling, knowing the camera lens

was situated just at the end of the entrance foyer as it opened

into the main room. She looked into Melinda’s eyes, noting the

blue had turned gunmetal gray. Was that what happened when

she came?

• 218 •

In Deep Waters 2

“That’s all right,” Melinda said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a camera in the ceiling on that wall over there.”

Ari tilted her head, but Melinda did not look around. Instead,

she kept her gaze fi xed on Ari’s face. “For some reason, you

are under twentyfour-hour surveillance.”

“And you know this how?” Melinda’s voice was low and

steady.

“Because I’m one of the security offi cers assigned to

observe you.”

“Is someone watching now?”

“Probably not. It’s my shift.”

“Can you…disable it?” Melinda asked.

“Temporarily, but it will eventually be repaired.”

“Turn it off, please.” Melinda turned away and walked

quickly to the wall of windows on the far side of the room.

Beyond, the fountain lights lit up the night, and sprays of water,

sparkling like chains of diamonds, fl oated through the air.

Ari dragged a chair against the wall, climbed up, and

shined her penlight along the junction of the crown molding

and the ceiling tiles. When she found the minute opening, she

pushed the tip of her pen into it, taking care not to enlarge the

hole. When she met an obstruction, she kept steady pressure

until she felt it give, and knew that the end of the fi ber-optic

cable had shifted. Now the image would be distorted or

obliterated. Mechanical problems happened sometimes when

doors were slammed, heavy objects were dropped on the fl oor

above, or just from subtle shifting of the building itself. Cables

became crimped, dislodged, or sometimes completely severed.

She stepped down, replaced the chair, and stood in the middle

of the room, not knowing quite what to do. Melinda Baker

remained looking out.

“Are you in trouble?” Ari asked at length.

Melinda turned, smiling sadly. “I’m not in danger, if that’s

• 219 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

what you mean. I suspect my soon-to-be ex-husband is behind

this.” She shrugged elegant shoulders. “He’s convinced I’m

having an affair.” She laughed softly. “And everyone knows

that Las Vegas is a hotbed of infi delity.”

“I suggest you change hotels.” Ari grinned. “Although I’d

prefer you didn’t mention my name if you do.”

“The conference I’m attending is here, and it’s much less

convenient for me to stay elsewhere. Besides, what’s to say

my husband won’t simply have me watched somewhere else?

It won’t be diffi cult to fi nd out where I am.”

“That’s up to you,” Ari said. “I just thought you should

know.”

“That I’m being watched.”

“Yes.”

“Even in here.”

Ari’s throat was suddenly dry. “Yes.”

“And you were watching. A few minutes ago?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Melinda moved closer, so close there was less than an

arm’s breadth between them. “And if I stay here, will you be

the one watching me at night?”

“Yes.” Ari knew she should back up. Her head was

swimming. Melinda’s scent was sweet and earthy, like crushed

fl ower petals after a hard rain.

“Are you the kind of woman who likes to watch other

women while they orgasm?”

“Sometimes.” Ari felt her hand lifting completely of its

own volition, or perhaps she’d simply lost the last fragment of

her control. She caressed Melinda’s cheek with the backs of

her fi ngers. “But not when they don’t know it.”

“Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you that it excites me to

know that you were watching.” Melinda cupped Ari’s hand,

angled her head, and kissed the tips of Ari’s fi ngers. “I’ve

• 220 •

In Deep Waters 2

imagined a woman touching me, making me come, for a long

time. That’s one of the reasons I’m leaving my husband.”

“Is there someone? A woman?” Ari sifted strands of silky

blond hair through her fi ngers, her palm sliding along the curve

of Melinda’s neck.

“No. When I fi nish, I’m always alone.”

“Not tonight,” Ari whispered. She leaned forward and

very gently kissed Melinda on the mouth. “You weren’t alone

tonight.”

Melinda circled Ari’s shoulders with both arms and leaned

against the front of her body. Her breasts were full and fi rm

against Ari’s, her hips softly insistent as she rocked between

Ari’s thighs. Ari skimmed both hands down the silky plane of

Melinda’s back and cupped her buttocks, holding her so she

could press more fi rmly into her. Melinda tilted her head back

and gave her throat to Ari’s mouth. Ari kissed her way from

the soft spot below Melinda’s ear to the pulse pounding wildly

at the base of her throat. She touched the beating point with the

tip of her tongue and tenderly bit down.

“Oh,” Melinda breathed, tightening her fi ngers in the taut

muscles of Ari’s shoulders. “When you watched me,” she

whispered into Ari’s ear, “did you…”

“No,” Ari gasped. She raised her head and cradled

Melinda’s face, kissing her again. “You excited me, but I

couldn’t take advantage of you that way.”

Melinda smiled crookedly, sliding her hands from Ari’s

shoulders inside her blazer and over her breasts. Ari shuddered

and Melinda laughed with quiet delight. “Would you take

advantage of me now, if I asked you to?”

“Right now, I’ll do anything you want.”

“I understand now why men want women, and why

women do, too.” She caught Ari’s hand and guided it from

her face inside her robe, molding Ari’s fi ngers to her breast.

• 221 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Her pupils widened as her nipple hardened against Ari’s palm.

“The power is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“You are wonderful,” Ari said thickly, freeing the sash at

Melinda’s waist and opening her robe. She bent her head and

took the offered breast into her mouth. Melinda gave a startled

cry and sagged against her. Ari caught her around the waist

and continued to suck until Melinda tugged her head away.

“Please.” Melinda’s lids were heavy, her mouth soft and

vulnerable. “I so want you to touch me. Everywhere. Will you?”

By way of answer, Ari guided her to the bed and gently

lifted the robe from her shoulders. “Lie down.”

“Take your clothes off, too. Please.”

“Are you sure?” The part of Ari’s brain that was still

functioning reminded her that Melinda’s fantasy might not

have included having a naked woman in her bed. “I’ll be more

than happy just to touch you.”

Melinda smiled. “Oh, I want you to touch me. And I want

to feel your body against mine when you do.”

Ari kicked off her shoes, shrugged out of her jacket, and

shed her shirt, pants, holster, and underwear in record time.

Despite the fl urry of activity, when she moved to the bed she

slowed, leaned over Melinda, and kissed her again, her breasts

barely brushing Melinda’s. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Melinda reached up and circled Ari’s shoulders

once more, pulling her down against the length of her body.

“Please.”

Ari slipped her thigh between Melinda’s legs and slowly

let their bodies merge. She kissed her, both hands in her hair,

caressing her face and her neck as she explored her mouth.

Dimly, she felt Melinda’s nails course up and down her back

and fi nally grip her ass, urging their hips together, harder,

faster. Ari felt herself start to climb and eased away.

“What?” Melinda asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

• 222 •

In Deep Waters 2

“No,” Ari said quickly, kissing her. “I didn’t come earlier

and I’m…I’m close.”

The corner of Melinda’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I did

come earlier, and I’m close, too. Will you let me touch you

while you touch me?”

Ari shifted onto her side so they could look into each

other’s eyes, then she caressed Melinda’s breasts as they

kissed again. Slowly, she dipped lower, smoothing her fi ngers

over the silky skin of Melinda’s belly, brushing the soft strands

between her thighs.

“I’m not delicate,” Melinda whispered, her breath hot

against Ari’s neck. “And I’m very certain that I want you to

do this.” As if to make sure Ari understood, Melinda swept

her hand up the inside of Ari’s thigh and stroked through the

wetness between her legs.

“Jesus,” Ari blurted, her hips jumping. “God.”

“Oh, I think you might be just a little closer than me.”

Nerve endings jangling, Ari rested her forehead against

Melinda’s and slid her fi ngers on either side of Melinda’s

clitoris. She squeezed gently and Melinda did the same. When

she pressed and circled, Melinda echoed her, and she was lost.

“I’m going to come in about one second.”

“Oh, me, too.” Melinda nipped at Ari’s lip and sucked the

tip of her tongue. “God, it’s so good. So good.”

Ari forced herself to keep her eyes open, watching

Melinda’s face as her orgasm fl ooded her, just as she had

watched her on the monitor. Melinda was so much more

beautiful now, her eyes shimmering with tears of pleasure and

something Ari couldn’t name, her body fl owing hot and silky

under Ari’s fi ngers with each surge of pleasure. Ari climaxed,

her own release so much less essential than Melinda’s. When

Melinda fi nally quieted in her arms, only then did Ari close

her eyes.

• 223 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I’d love to come for you again,” Melinda said, her voice

drowsy and satisfi ed. “Like I did earlier, with you watching.

But I don’t think I’ll be able to, if I don’t know that you’re the

one looking at the monitor.”

“How about I just watch you here?”

“And the other things I might want to do?”

“Anything.”

“I’m not…I haven’t…I might not be all you bet on.”

Melinda suddenly sounded shy and uncertain.

Eyes still closed, Ari kissed Melinda’s temple and lazily

caressed her back. “Don’t worry; I know all I need to know.

After this, I’d bet on you blind.”

• 224 •

In Deep Waters 2

ALL IN

Radcly f fe

Dr. Saxon Sinclair contemplated her Scotch rocks and

watched the third man in fi ve minutes try to pick

up the blonde sitting opposite her at the horseshoe

shaped bar that occupied one corner of the Palace casino

lounge. She didn’t ordinarily spend her nights in a bar, at least

she hadn’t for the last fi ve years. But she couldn’t sleep and

her suite, although spacious, felt claustrophobic. She wondered

briefl y if the blonde, a fellow trauma surgeon she’d seen at

the meeting just that morning, was having similar diffi culties.

She obviously wasn’t there to fi nd company for the night,

because she quickly dispatched anyone who seemed to be

interested. It was possible, Sax supposed, that the only other

single woman sitting at the bar was looking for a different sort

of companionship than what the men were offering, but Sax

hadn’t gotten that vibe the few times their eyes had met. No.

She and the blonde were probably both sitting alone at three in

• 225 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

the morning for exactly the same reason. A kind of loneliness

that went deeper than any physical diversion could assuage.

“No, really, I’d rather just sit here and relax.” The

blonde’s low, musical voice carried surprisingly well despite

the cacophony of bells and whistles and constant rumble of

voices coming from the gaming fl oor just beyond the lounge.

Sax narrowed her eyes as a heavyset middle-aged man in

an expensive suit put his arm around the blonde’s shoulders

and leaned down to say something else, crowding her at the

same time as he made it diffi cult for her to move away. Again,

she murmured no and shook her head, her expression one of

forced pleasantness. Sax imagined the woman was trying to

avoid a scene. She knew the man, another surgeon. She had

met his wife earlier that week at one of the trauma conference

social functions that she hadn’t been able to get out of, and

remembered him mentioning that his son was a surgical resident

somewhere in California. When the blonde signaled no for the

third time, Sax felt a surge of anger that brought her to her feet.

A woman shouldn’t have to say no even once just because she

was sitting alone at a bar. She certainly shouldn’t have to say no

three times. Just as Sax took a step forward, one of the Palace’s

security guards, recognizable from her understated uniform of

dark blazer, white shirt, and dark trousers, as well as by the

name tag over her breast pocket and the radio receiver clipped

to her ear, appeared as if by magic and tapped the aggressive

surgeon on the shoulder. Whatever she said brought a fl ush to

the man’s face and he rapidly strode away. As Sax reclaimed

her barstool, she saw the guard murmur a word to the blonde,

who fl eetingly touched her arm, allowing her fi ngers to linger

for just a moment on the sleeve of the blue blazer. Then the

guard, too, disappeared. The exchange had been so brief, Sax

doubted anyone would have noticed, but to her, the connection

was unmistakable. Her chest tightened and she ached for just

• 226 •

In Deep Waters 2

a simple touch, just a few seconds of feeling as if she weren’t

hopelessly, helplessly adrift.

“Hey,” a deep voice said as a hand dropped heavily onto

Sax’s shoulder. “I called your room and you didn’t answer.

Listen, I have to go home.”

Sax glanced up at her friend and former resident, Quinn

Maguire. Some people said they looked alike, but Sax couldn’t

see it. They both had black hair and blue eyes, sure, but Quinn

was an inch or so shorter and more muscular. And more

importantly, Quinn always had an air of calm, steady focus

about her that Sax rarely managed, especially lately. Right

now though, Quinn appeared anything but calm—her cotton

button-down collar shirt was rumpled and untucked, hanging

out over her jeans. She wore loafers with no socks and had an

expression Sax had never seen before. Panic.

“What’s the matter?” Sax asked.

“Nothing,” Quinn exclaimed. “Nothing. Honor called.”

Quinn’s face widened into an enormous grin. “She’s in labor.

Two weeks early. I gotta go. Sorry to leave you hanging with

the panel tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sax stood to give Quinn a quick

squeeze on the arm. “Give Honor my love and call me with an

update, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I will.” Quinn turned to go, then looked back,

her expression unexpectedly serious. “You’re okay, right?”

Sax worked up a smile. “Sure, I’m okay. Jesus, you think I

can’t get through a twenty minute presentation without you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Quinn said quietly.

“I know what you meant.” Sax knew she sounded gruff,

but it suddenly felt like she was pushing her words out through

ground glass. “Just go, already.”

“You’ll call me too, with any news, right?”

Sax nodded.

• 227 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“She’s okay, you know,” Quinn said.

“Yeah,” Sax said roughly. “Sure.”

Then Quinn was gone and Sax was alone again. Even the

blonde was gone. She sat back down, drained her Scotch, and

signaled for another. Three weeks. She hadn’t heard from Jude

in three weeks. It wasn’t unusual for her to go days, sometimes

a week or even a little longer, without hearing from her, but

this was the longest it had ever been. If she knew where she

was, or even where to start looking, she would have fl own to

Iraq four days ago instead of Las Vegas. She knew where Jude

had been eleven weeks earlier when she’d started out from

Fallujah, one of three embedded journalists with a mobile

division of the second Marines. After that, Jude’s e-mails

had been brief and sporadic and absent of any detail. After

fi ve years of being married to a documentary fi lmmaker,

Sax recognized Jude’s attempts to play down just how bad

whatever particular natural disaster or human horror she was

investigating really was. She was used to Jude being gone, too,

sometimes for weeks at a time. This time it was different. This

time she felt their connection, which was always so strong no

matter where in the world Jude was, grow thinner and thinner

until she feared it had snapped. And as the ties to Jude slid

through her fi ngers like so many infi nitesimal grains of sand

that she tried so desperately to hold in her closed fi sts, she

watched the world around her fade to a gray unreality, as if

she were watching life on the screen of an old black-and-white

television. She knew Jude would be pissed at her for losing her

grip, so she tried to pretend that life went on. She was at the

damn conference, wasn’t she?

She rubbed the back of her neck, tired and so damn lost.

“Here, why don’t you let me do that?” a husky voice said

from behind her as Sax’s hand was replaced by two smaller

ones.

• 228 •

In Deep Waters 2

Sax gripped the rounded edges of the shiny black bar top

with both hands, struggling for balance. Her head felt as if a

bomb had burst inside it. Her voice came out barely a whisper.

“Jude?”

“For your sake, it better be.” Jude’s breasts pressed against

Sax’s back as she leaned down and kissed her just below her

ear. “Because I’d fi nd out otherwise, and you’d be dead meat,

Sinclair.”

“How?”

“I saw Quinn grabbing a cab out front. She told me where

you were.”

Sax hadn’t yet glanced back, almost too afraid to discover

that she might be hallucinating. Still, when she reached back

she grasped a warm hand, rougher than she remembered, but

just as strong.

“No, I mean, how are you here?”

“Military transport. I got lucky and there was an extra

seat at the last second. It was either get on the plane without

calling you, or miss it all together. I’ve been traveling about

two days.”

Finally, Sax swiveled on the seat and faced her lover. Right

before she left, Jude had cut her shoulder length red hair short.

It was shaggy and needed a cut now, falling just above her

collar in thick waves. She wore a tan T-shirt and faded khaki

camos, and even in the low light of the bar, Sax could tell

her pale skin had tanned in the unrelenting desert sun. Clearly

exhausted, she appeared wraithlike, and Sax saw the haunted

expression her lover tried to hide with a welcoming smile.

“Hi, baby,” Jude Castle said, leaning in between Sax’s

spread legs and slipping both arms around Sax’s neck. She

kissed her fi rmly, but far too briefl y, and then leaned back. “I

know you hate these conferences, so I thought I’d drop in and

distract you.”

• 229 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Working pretty good so far.” Sax rose and slid her arm

around Jude’s waist. “Let’s head upstairs. You look a little

tired.”

Jude laughed shortly. “I look like hell.” She frowned as

they started to walk. “You look a little thin, too. And what are

you doing up at almost four in the morning?”

“Hoping to get lucky,” Sax murmured, kissing Jude’s

temple.

“Did you?”

“Oh yeah.”

Once upstairs, Sax stripped, lowered the room lights, and

turned down the bed while Jude took a quick shower. When

Jude walked naked out of the bathroom toweling her hair,

Sax’s only thought was to get her into bed and hold her. Hold

her where she could rest and be safe. Then she registered the

scar, immediately assessing in her surgeon’s mind the barely

healed wound on Jude’s abdomen. She was across the room in

three long strides.

“What is this?” Sax demanded, unable to keep her fear

from translating into anger. A seven-inch long, angry red ridge

wrapped around Jude’s left fl ank just below her ribs “You

didn’t tell me you’d been injured.”

For a second, Jude seemed confused, then she refl exively

covered the area with her hand. “God, I’m so tired I forgot

about it. It wasn’t anything much. Just a glancing—”

Sax spun around and stalked to the far side of the room,

which suddenly felt even smaller than it had hours before,

when it held only her loneliness. Now there wasn’t enough

space to contain her rage, but it wasn’t Jude she wanted to

lash out at. With her back still turned, she snarled, “That’s a

bullet wound. Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I

don’t know if the trajectory had been slightly different you’d

be dead right now? Jesus Christ, how could you not tell me?”

• 230 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I knew you’d worry, and I knew I would be all right,”

Jude said softly, suddenly right behind Sax. “Baby, you’re

shaking.”

Sax pulled her shoulder away when Jude caressed her.

“Don’t. Just…” Her hand was shaking as she swiped the tears

that had come out of nowhere too fast for her to stop. Every

lost and desolate moment of the last three weeks crashed down

on her, and she had a soul-destroying image of what life would

be if Jude had not come back. “I’m sorry. I can’t…just get in

bed. You need to sleep.”

Jude wrapped her arms around Sax’s body from behind,

pressing her breasts to Sax’s back and her cheek to Sax’s

shoulder. “That’s not what I need. That’s not what I traveled

around the world for. Turn around.”

Sax had never been able to say no to Jude, and she couldn’t

now either. But she didn’t want her to see what must be in her

eyes. Desperation, and devastation. Not quite looking at her,

Sax grasped Jude’s hand and led her to the bed. Then she drew

her down and pulled the covers to their waists as they faced

one another. Stroking wet strands of red hair back from Jude’s

cheek, she whispered, “Close your eyes. Sleep will be good

for you.”

“When I fi rst got…hurt,” Jude said, her eyes wide and

never leaving Sax’s, “the fi rst thing I thought was that I was

still alive, and there were others near me who weren’t. I was

glad, glad it was them and not me, and part of me knew that

was wrong.”

“No,” Sax said, the agony of imagining Jude wounded

making her voice sound harsh. “There is no such thing as

justice in war. You were lucky, and it’s okay to be glad.”

“And then for awhile I didn’t have time to think at all.” As

she went on, Jude caressed Sax’s face and Sax gently stroked

Jude’s body, taking care not to disturb the freshly healed wound.

• 231 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“When I got my turn with the medic and he was stitching me

up, I thought of all the times I’d fi lmed you doing the same

thing. Saving lives. I missed you so much right then.”

“I would’ve come over there, if I’d known you were

hurt.”

Jude smiled and traced her fi ngertips over Sax’s mouth. “I

know. But I really wasn’t in danger. After a few days, I wasn’t

even sore. It just looks bad.”

“You forget who I am,” Sax grumbled, capturing Jude’s

hand and rubbing it against her cheek. “Don’t try to snow

me.”

“Baby, I’ll never forget who you are.” Jude shifted closer,

pressing her breasts to Sax’s and tilting her hips until their

lower bodies fused. “I’m sorry you were scared.”

“Terrifi ed,” Sax said hoarsely.

“When it was bad,” Jude whispered, “worse than bad, and

I felt things inside of me breaking…”

Sax groaned and cradled Jude’s face against her throat,

stroking her hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“I knew,” Jude said, her mouth against Sax’s skin, “you’d

heal me.” She tilted her face up, trembling in Sax’s arms.

“Please, baby. I don’t need sleep. I don’t need food. I don’t

even need you to take the nightmares away. It was hot, always

so hot, and I’m still cold. I need you to make me feel again.”

“I need you in order to live,” Sax murmured, gently pushing

Jude onto her back. She settled her hips between Jude’s legs

and held her body above her, braced on her forearms. “Are you

sure you’re not hurting too much?”

“I need you.” Jude wrapped her legs around the back of

Sax’s thighs, lifting into her, pressing as tightly as she could.

“Inside me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I left

there.”

Sax wanted to be inside her—inside her body, inside her

• 232 •

In Deep Waters 2

heart, inside her soul. She wanted to bleed into her, until their

very cells were indistinguishable. She wanted her so badly she

was afraid. Tenderly, carefully, she spread her fi ngers through

Jude’s tangle of still strangely short hair, and kissed her eyelids,

her temples, the corners of her mouth. Jude smelled fresh and

clean from the shower, her skin faintly roughened from the

wind and sun. Sax traced the edge of Jude’s jaw with the tip

of her tongue, then trailed kisses down her neck. The stress of

holding back the fl ash fi re burning through her, coupled with

her anxiety over going too fast, sent her already on-the-edge

nervous system into overdrive. She struggled for breath as her

body quivered uncontrollably.

“Oh, baby,” Jude murmured, caressing Sax’s back and

ass with long, urgent strokes. “Oh, baby, don’t hold back. You

need me. And god, I love that you do.” She knew just how to

break Sax’s control, and as she gripped Sax tighter with her

legs, she bit down hard on the thick muscle that slanted from

Sax’s neck to her shoulder.

“God!” Sax roared, rearing her head back and trying to

pull away. “You don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll hurt you!”

“No, you won’t,” Jude said fi ercely. “You can’t. Please,

please, help me!”

Jude’s tears did what nothing else could. They penetrated

the shroud of desperation and fear that had clouded Sax’s mind

and heart for weeks. She saw her lover clearly, saw her need,

saw her vulnerability. And refl ected in her lover’s eyes, she

saw herself—slowly dying for want of this woman. Rocking

back on her knees, Sax placed her palm between Jude’s breasts

and spread her fi ngers, bracing herself as she brought her

other arm between Jude’s legs and entered her. She knew this

woman, this body, this fl esh that welcomed her, and she buried

herself there. Jude bucked off the bed, her voice a strangled

scream, and Sax held her down as she thrust into her.

• 233 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“You feel me?” Sax rasped, the muscles in her chest

and arms straining as she held herself in check even as she

pushed deeper. She rolled her thumb over Jude’s clitoris until

it hardened. “Can you?”

“Yes,” Jude cried, her heels digging into Sax’s legs as

she forced herself harder against Sax’s hand. “Deeper, please,

deeper. Oh god.”

Sweat dripped from Sax’s face onto Jude’s, mixing

with her lover’s tears, as she fi lled her again and again. Jude

strained and writhed beneath her, struggling to climax. Her

head whipped from side to side, her breath torn from her in

strangled moans.

Jude’s eyes opened wide, her face a mask of agonized

need. “I can’t. Oh god, I can’t feel…I can’t…”

Instantly, Sax stilled, panting to pull air into lungs that

burned. Her arms trembled, her stomach was rigid with her

own need for release, but she forced her voice to be quiet and

calm. “It’s okay. Just breathe for a second. Breathe, baby.”

Tears leaked from Jude’s eyes as she gasped for breath,

and Sax stretched out beside her, cradling her face against her

chest. She stroked her sweat-soaked hair. “It’s okay, baby.”

“I need…Oh god, I feel numb. I can’t and I need…”

Jude’s heart pounded against Sax’s breast, erratic and

urgent. Sax cupped Jude’s face and brushed her thumb over

Jude’s mouth. “Look at me. Look at me, baby.”

When Jude focused on her, Sax whispered, “Stay with me.

Stay right here with me.” Then she reached down and began to

stroke her. When Jude whimpered and thrust against her hand,

Sax kissed her and whispered again, “Look at me. Just look at

me and know I love you more than life.”

“I need you to make me come,” Jude moaned, clinging to

Sax’s shoulders, her back arching with the growing pressure.

“Need you. Need you so much.”

• 234 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I’m here.” Sax felt the rapid pulsations in the swollen

fl esh beneath her fi ngers that signaled Jude’s gathering climax.

She bore down on Jude’s clitoris, giving her the short, fi rm

strokes she knew she needed to push her over the edge.

Jude closed her eyes, crying out her pleasure, and then

Sax fi lled her again. She turned Jude on her back, riding Jude’s

leg as she pushed into her, stroke after deep stroke. Sax came

swiftly with her clitoris crushed to Jude’s hard thigh, and Jude

came a second time and then a third. Sax didn’t stop until her

strength gave out and she collapsed into Jude’s arms.

“You okay?” Sax gasped, unable to raise her head from

Jude’s shoulder. She felt Jude weakly caress her neck.

“I will be,” Jude murmured. “I’m here with you. I’m

home.”

• 235 •

• 236 •

In Deep Waters 2

PAYOUT

Karin Kallmaker

So how does it feel in the light of morning?” Alison

spooned behind Carolyn, massaging her shoulders

gently as the sun slowly illuminated their room.

“I’m still not sure.” Carolyn rolled onto her stomach.

“Your hands are wonderful, as always.”

Alison shifted her position, continuing the soft touches

with one lazy hand. “I know you’re young for this sort of thing,

but then you started out young as a published writer, too.”

“True. I just…” Carolyn stretched out an arm to touch the

Lucite statue of an old-fashioned oil lamp that rested on the

bedside table. “It’s an award, and it’s been a long time since

I’ve seen one.”

There was the tiniest edge of bitterness in Carolyn’s voice,

and it pained Alison. “You wouldn’t do it any other way, would

you?”

“Of course not.” She snuggled around in Alison’s arms.

“I’m glad I came out. I’m glad I’ve been living free. I just feel

• 237 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

a little bit young to get the Lamplight Award.”

“You did light the way, and it was very cool that Amelia

Wainwright was the one who presented it to you, and I swear,

Barrett Lancey had tears in her butch little eyes. They wouldn’t

get to be who they are if Carly Vincent, hot new best seller,

sweetheart of the twentyfour to thirty-two demographic,

hadn’t taken one for the Sappho team all those years ago.

There are other people who could have come out, no doubt,

but you’re the one that did it.”

“I was waiting on the world to change and it did, I guess.

I didn’t lose all my readers.”

“Just the narrow-minded ones, and you weren’t writing

for them anyway. I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I don’t.” The eyes that gazed up at Alison were the clear

blue she’d lost her heart to at least two decades ago. “I might

whine a little sometimes, but I don’t regret it.”

“God, you feel good this morning.” Alison breathed in

the cologne, the shampoo, the wonderful blend of scents that

equaled Carolyn to her. “I loved dancing with you last night.”

“Me too you.” Carolyn burrowed into Alison’s shoulder.

“It was a fun evening, even if Farrah Fotheringay was hitting

on you.”

“Was not. She’s straight. She probably just wants a new

agent.”

“No, she was after the hottest woman in the room.”

Carolyn twisted a lock of Alison’s hair around her fi nger. “I

love the way your hair is changing color, silver and platinum

threads all woven in.”

Alison smoothed her love’s short curls and turned the

adorable face up so she could see it. All these years and it was

still like waking up to sunshine. Sleepy eyes blinked at her.

“I love you.”

“You’re just saying that.” Carolyn stretched.

• 238 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Why would I just make it up after all this time?”

“Because you want to have your way with me.”

Alison cupped one alluring breast under the covers.

It fi rmed at her touch. “I don’t know what you’re talking

about.”

“It was late last night, and I recall being promised

something if I wore those thigh-high stockings that get you all

hot and bothered. But alas, all I remember were some vague

mumbles about wine and the hour.” Carolyn’s light tone was

at odds with the small arch of her back in response to the tip of

Alison’s fi nger lightly stroking under her nipple.

“Then I need to make it up to you, don’t I?”

“I would think so.”

“Okay.” Alison threw back the covers and hopped out of

bed. “How about a nice breakfast?”

“Get back in this bed this instant.” Carolyn gave her a wry

look.

“Oh, so you want breakfast in bed.”

Carolyn dissolved into laughter. “Honey, I want to be

breakfast in bed.”

“My thought exactly.”

She began with slow kisses along Carolyn’s calves, eliciting

a soft, encouraging sigh. She would never get enough of the taste

of Carolyn’s skin, and lazily worked her way up the welcoming,

curvaceous body. It made sense to get out of her nightshirt then,

and use her breasts to massage Carolyn’s thighs.

A long, rising moan rewarded her efforts and Alison

stretched out so their bodies could meet in the full delight of

skin-on-skin.

“Ally,” Carolyn breathed. “You’ve got some kind of

magic hands.”

“Tell that to my teammates. I drop any more fl y balls

and—”

• 239 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Carolyn pressed her fi ngertips to Alison’s mouth. “Why

on earth are you talking about softball at this moment?”

“Cause mostly…I’m an idiot.”

The little laugh they shared was intimate and ended

with the kind of kiss that reminded Alison of the backseat of

Carolyn’s old Mustang convertible. Now was not the time to

admit she was having a fast food craving. Other cravings took

precedence.

“Close your eyes,” Alison whispered. “Think about

Melissa and the concert tonight and the backstage passes your

fabulous agent got you.”

Carolyn laughed again. “I thought they were a birthday

gift from my girlfriend.”

Alison kissed away the laughter—she loved doing that.

Making her Carrie laugh and then moan ever so slightly. Every

time they shared this dance it had all the fever and fi reworks of

their fi rst time, combined with layers of familiarity. There was

still plenty of mystery, but no terror of doing something wrong

or too hard or too soft. Make her laugh, and kiss the smiles.

She could do this all morning.

She did do it all morning, as it turned out. No doubt

Carolyn would have the right metaphor for the way her body

was melting over the bed, spreading like warm honey, only not

so sticky and leaving a less romantic soul to wonder who was

going to clean all that up.

“More, Ally, please…”

Those were Alison’s favorite words.

Her second favorite set of words were said shortly

thereafter.

“Your turn.” Carolyn gave her a searing look, no longer

melted honey or melted anything, she was fi rm and soft all at

once, just a little commanding and more than a little eager.

• 240 •

In Deep Waters 2

Alison moaned when Carolyn’s tongue swept through her,

then she couldn’t help but laugh.

Carolyn immediately stopped what she was doing. “Am I

distracting you?”

“Sorry, honey. I was just—I realized how good it was to

moan really loudly and not have one of the puppies come to

investigate what we’re doing.”

Carolyn grinned and kissed Alison’s inner thigh. “Okay,

yes, that is nice. But no more laughing.” Her tongue pressed

into the soft place where thigh met really sensitive areas.

“Hell, no, oh…”

She scrabbled among the rumpled sheets for Carolyn’s

hand, clasping their fi ngers as her legs fell open and she lost

herself in the exquisite attentions of that wonderful, thorough

mouth. She felt the love all through her bones, and she did

want to smile at her happiness. Another laugh threatened—

maybe it was watching her beloved Carrie, who had suffered

in classy silence all these years after the onslaught of hate mail

and plummeting sales, publicly recognized by her peers as the

brave woman she was. It had been a risk, and there had been a

price, but now—

Carolyn’s sensitive fi ngers moved inside her and the

laughter transformed to passion. Her memories of last night,

dancing, her daily ecstasy of waking up with Carolyn, they

went away and the only focus she had was for the pressure

building behind her eyes, along her shoulders, down her arms

to where her hand clasped Carolyn’s. She rose, Carolyn held

on, their bodies frozen until a white, hazy afterglow gently

surrounded her.

• 241 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Did I go to sleep?”

Carolyn leaned against the bathroom door, drying her hair.

“Yes. And you missed the chance to shower with me.”

“Damn.” Alison stretched, not wanting to get out of the

bed.

“Honey, there are two fl oors of casinos, fi ve swimming

pools, three hundred fountains, and an art gallery waiting for

us, now that the convention is over.”

“Um-hmm.” Carolyn’s mouth had felt wonderful, she

mused.

The bed jolted from Carolyn’s swift kick. “So get up!”

Alison reluctantly swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“If only your fans knew what Carly Vincent is really like.” Her

gaze fell on the award and she touched it with one fi ngertip.

Crossing the warm carpet to the bathroom, she turned

Carolyn from the mirror to take her into her arms. “You know,

right? That I’m proud of you, that you’re the world to me?

That I love you?”

“I know,” Carolyn said. “I was feeling sorry for myself

last night, for a while. But this morning, today—I know why

I made those choices, and I’ve gotten everything that ever had

value to me. I got you.”

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“You just want to sleep more.”

“We can play breakfast in bed again, fi rst.” She blinked

innocently.

Carolyn laughed and Alison kissed the smile.

• 242 •

In Deep Waters 2

SOLITAIRE

Karin Kallmaker

Well, that was a total cock-up.” DJ unknotted the

short scarf from the collar of her white shirt.

How was she supposed to sell emergency room

supplies if the company sent the wrong samples for the exhibit

hall booth? The convention had been a total bust for her, a

complete waste of time.

A hot shower, fresh clothes, and then she was going to

lose herself at the poker tables—any table where Texas Hold

’Em wasn’t the game. What was wrong with a good round of

seven-card stud?

What she really wanted was for Lyn to walk through the

door right now. That would be heaven. She’d been on the road

too long, and their phone calls were too unsatisfying. It wasn’t

like her to leave her clothes all over the fl oor, but right now,

she couldn’t care less. Tomorrow morning she packed up the

booth and then caught a plane home.

• 243 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

The aroma of Lyn’s shampoo was soothing. She traveled

with a little bottle of it to remind her of the things she really

loved in this world, and one of them was the way Lyn smelled.

She scrubbed her short hair free of gel and washed the sweat

of the day from her body, then stood just a little longer under

the hot spray, inhaling steam to soothe her dry sinuses.

Maybe she was too tired for the tables tonight. That would

be awful, though, to be in Las Vegas and too bleedin’ tired to

do the one thing she could do with her girl so far away. Lord

knows every other temptation was available, and she’d said no

to a few in the hospitality suite earlier.

Maybe a trip to the fi tness room? Even as she thought

it, she dismissed the idea. It would be overrun with men, and

American men were second only to Aussies in their unwavering

belief in their universal sex appeal. She was too tired to deal

with them.

The Palace towels were thick and thirsty, and normally

she’d have delighted in the little luxuries of the heated towel

rack, the warming lamp—someone else was paying for it, too.

She had a major case of the post-convention blahs, though. Her

hand reached for an old, comfortable T-shirt. She hesitated,

knowing if she put it on she wouldn’t go out. If she put on the

tight black tank then she would hit the tables. She looked back

and forth between both garments, then opted for the hotel robe

before she got chilled. Decision deferred.

She fl ipped open her cell phone and tried not to be

disappointed that Lyn wasn’t home. Of course she wasn’t. DJ

had known that all day. Lyn’s eldest was fi nally performing

live and DJ was sorry to miss it. She was sorry she couldn’t

hear more than Lyn’s voice telling her to leave a message.

Drifting to the window in hope of some form of distraction,

she watched the lights change in the famous fountains she

could just glimpse through an opening between buildings. Her

• 244 •

In Deep Waters 2

room faced inward over the hotel grounds and her view was of

two of the swimming pools, ringed in lights. One had a fl oating

bar in the middle. Maybe that was the way to go. Lounge in

warm water, kick back with a good drink, and daydream. That

might be okay if the temperature had dropped enough. There

was nothing more dismal than sweating while sitting in a

swimming pool.

She unlatched her sliding glass door and stepped out onto

the balcony. It had cooled off quite a bit from midday. The

pool with the bar was appealing more and more. She turned

to go back inside when she heard a voice from the adjacent

balcony—a woman’s voice possibly—say plainly, “Are you

sure it’s okay, baby?”

“Yes.” Laughter, defi nitely a woman this time, then,

“What happens in Vegas, right?”

“Let me get it out of the package and clean it, then. You

stay right there.”

The lights that bathed the hotel exterior didn’t quite reach

this fl oor, but DJ still tried to discreetly peek through the

separating barrier. It was dark, though, that is until the fi rst

person came back and a glow from inside their hotel room

dimly illuminated the small confi nes of the balcony.

Defi nitely both women. Lounging in the chaise was a

lovely creature whose slender charms were quite noticeable,

given that she was naked. There was something comfortable

about her beauty, quiet even. Maybe it was just the contrast

with the glitter, spandex, and artifi ce of Las Vegas in general.

Her hands briefl y brushed over her natural, yielding breasts as

she relaxed in the chair.

DJ told herself to stop looking. But when the other

woman, a no-apologies butch, shucked her tank top and briefs

and joined her lover on the chaise, it was more than DJ could

do to look away.

• 245 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“You’re sure?” The butch kissed her girlfriend with a

melting tenderness. “Do you want to hold it? Just to get used

to it?”

DJ lost the reply, but there was no mistaking the object in

the woman’s hand. If she remembered correctly, that was the

Mighty Aphrodite. One like it was at home.

The butch had stretched out alongside the other woman,

stroking her breasts and shoulders. “It’s up to you, Marcie.”

“I want to. How many times do I have to say it?”

“I’m sorry, baby, it’s just that I don’t want to hurt you, and

I don’t want you to regret it tomorrow.”

“Did you bring the lube?”

The butch’s voice got more gravelly. “Yes. Please, let me.”

For a moment, DJ’s view was obstructed, then the butch

stopped moving around and settled on her knees between

Marcie’s legs.

DJ swallowed hard. She missed Lyn fi ercely at that

moment, because she knew how trickling lube over her fi ngers

felt, and she knew why the butch moaned when she pushed

those slippery fi ngers into her eager, receptive lover. Her own

hand twitched, and her cunt did as well. If she were closer

she would be able to smell them both, smell sex and the

unmistakable blend of lube and silicone and woman.

The butch bent to lavish attention on Marcie’s clit. Marcie

let out a long coo, a single note of pleasure that fi nally broke

as she hooked one leg over the butch’s shoulder and lifted her

hips to offer more. Their words were lost for several seconds,

then Marcie said, her voice taut with desire, “Please, Keri,

fuck me with it.”

Now DJ could hear everything. The slippery, wet noises

and the mutual quiet grunts they shared were enough to send

her own fi res leaping.

“Fuck me…”

• 246 •

In Deep Waters 2

“I am…”

“More…”

DJ put her hands over her ears and stumbled back into her

hotel room, collapsing on the bed.

The women in the hospitality suite had all loved the

accent, and while so many men never fi gured her for a lesbian,

the same number of women did. She could have been with

someone tonight instead of peering like a pathetic Peeping Tom

at her neighbors. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, or

so they said. Trouble was, none of the women offering had

short hair, piercing eyes, and a sense of humor sharper even

than her own. None of them were Lyn.

“Oh, yes! Yes, baby, don’t stop…”

DJ quietly closed the balcony door, but she fancied she

could still hear those pleas.

She’d be home tomorrow night and Lyn would meet her

plane, and they might even take care of some of their itches on

the way home from the airport. Maybe she’d surprise Lyn with

a night in a motel. Just the two of them and lots of sex.

The wall behind her bed began to thump. Bloody hell,

they’d moved inside. Now she wasn’t eavesdropping or

peeping, she couldn’t help but hear it.

If there had been any trepidation about whether Marcie

would like the toy, it sounded like they were over it. Marcie

not only liked the toy, she liked getting fucked hard with it,

hard and deep and for a very, very long time.

DJ called Lyn again and listened to, “I can’t come to the

phone right now, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I’ll

get back to you.” She listened to it three times before snapping

her phone shut.

Marcie was getting well and truly fucked, and from the

sound of it, she was going to scream in fi ve, four, three, two—

“Oooh, fuck, baby! Fuck me!”

• 247 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

DJ knew how sheepish she had felt the fi rst night with

Lyn, when her vocabulary had abruptly become that limited,

too. That had been such a good night. All the nights together

had been that good.

Tonight was not a good night. Now her body ached and

she was turned on and wet, with no recourse but to get on her

own bed and touch…touch…

Fingers always knew what to do, they knew every circle

to make, when to glide over the nerves, when to pinch and lift.

It was her mind that wandered, sifting through memories and

fantasies for the one that would catch like kindling.

Tomorrow she would get into the passenger seat of their

car and she would let Lyn drive, but when they got as far as

the scattered offi ce buildings, she would tell Lyn to pull into a

deserted parking lot. She’d pull her across the seat, put Lyn’s

hand down her slacks and beg, beg for Lyn’s touch, beg to come,

right there in the car. She’d strip off her pants, spread her legs,

and pull Lyn’s fi ngers inside her, and Lyn would know, like she

always knew, how much, how hard, how fast, like that.

“God, yes, baby, do me again, I can’t believe how good it

feels when you do that…”

How good she feels, DJ thought, how good Lyn always

feels. She moaned, feeling the dance of electricity start in

her clit, then spread upward, outward until the sizzle escaped

from the top of her head. She would lie back in the seat, sated,

drifting, while Lyn drove them home.

She smiled lazily, feeling much better, but the fantasy

in her head continued. Too soon to stop, she thought, as she

envisioned herself in her own bed. Lyn’s shoulder would be

against her cheek, their knees bumping and shifting until arms

and legs got just right.

And she was falling asleep in Lyn’s arms, surrounded with

the scent of her. It was the best fantasy of all.

• 248 •

In Deep Waters 2

LUCK ON THE RIVER

Radcly f fe

I leaned over the brass railing to get a better look at the

feature table. The glaring television camera spots lit up

the playing surface like high noon in the desert, while

the rest of the room faded into gloomy darkness. I doubted

Evie could see me, but I knew she knew where I was. Every

now and then she glanced in my direction, and I could feel her

gaze fi nd mine. Surrounded by big men with big personalities

and even bigger egos, she glimmered like a jewel in the midst

of drab stones. She’d been playing twelve hours a day for six

days, and she was tired. Her normally pale skin was nearly

translucent now, stretched thin over arched cheekbones. The

luster in her green eyes had faded, and even her red-gold hair

had darkened to heavy copper. On an ordinary day, when she

walked through a room, she turned heads. For the last fortyeight hours, she couldn’t step out of the elevator without being

mobbed. Everyone wanted something from her—a comment,

• 249 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

an autograph, or, under the guise of offering friendly advice,

to prove they weren’t afraid of her.

They should be afraid. Eight players left out of a fi eld

of forty-three hundred, and she was the only woman to make

it to the fi nal table. I knew what it took for her to get there,

because I held her through the nights, or what was left of them,

when she jerked awake an hour or two after fi nally unwinding

enough to fall asleep. Keyed up, exhausted beyond the point

where real sleep was possible, she struggled to fi nd the calm

place inside where she needed to be to win. She was a pro;

she’d earned her stripes in cash games up and down the West

Coast, but she’d never played in the big tournament before.

That was a strike against her. And she was young. Even though

there were college boys younger than her who had qualifi ed by

whiling away their college tuition money playing poker on the

Internet in their dorm rooms night after night. Another strike

against her. And she was beautiful, which some took to mean

she couldn’t also be smart, and she was a girl— my girl, which

she made sure everyone knew. Strikes three, four, and fi ve.

More than enough to put her out of the game, but she was still

in the running.

Only right this minute, her tournament life was on the

line. She’d come in short-stacked at the beginning of play ten

hours ago, and she’d managed to stay alive by betting smart

and playing smarter, but she didn’t stand a chance of winning

without a bigger chip count. She had to double up soon while

she still had chips to bet with, and that’s exactly what she did.

Because she played to win. She pushed the rest of her chips

into the middle of the table and said coolly, “I’m all in.”

The room fell silent. One player folded immediately,

leaving just her and the favorite. She looked poised and

confi dent, when I knew acid had to be eating a hole through

her stomach.

• 250 •

In Deep Waters 2

I tried not to be nervous. I trusted her. Hell, I loved

her. But I knew how much she wanted this, how hard she’d

worked, and how fucking tired she was. I grabbed the rail with

both hands, willing her to feel my support across the twenty

feet that separated us. I wished I could be standing behind her,

rubbing her shoulders, whispering encouragement.

“I call,” her opponent said, and matched her bet.

Evie turned over an ace and a king, suited. It was a strong

hand to go all in on, and I wanted to shout, Way to go, baby!

Some people in the audience did.

Her opponent studied her cards, then her, and slowly

turned over pocket aces. Fuck. The best draw in poker. Evie

didn’t blink. I stopped breathing.

The dealer buried a card, counted out three, and turned

the fl op. A deuce, a jack, a king. Evie paired her king, but a

pair of kings looked pathetically small against those two aces.

Evie seemed composed, but she stood up, and her hands were

clenched. The dealer buried another card and turned fourth

street. Another king.

“Oh yeah,” I murmured. Evie’s three of a kind beat her

opponent’s two pair. Only one card in the deck could beat her

now, and that’s if the dealer turned an ace on the last card. The

river card. And there was only one ace left in the deck.

“Good luck,” the favorite said to her, sounding as if he

meant it.

“You too,” Evie said.

The dealer buried a card and slowly dealt the river card. A

sigh passed through the room. An ace, giving Evie’s opponent

a full house, aces full of kings, to her full house, kings over

aces. Evie smiled wearily and held out her hand.

“Nice playing,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks.” Evie nodded to the others at the table as

she walked away.

• 251 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

As soon as she stepped past the rail and into the crowd,

reporters descended upon her, asking her how it felt to lose

after coming so far. How did it feel to be the only woman still

playing? Stupid questions that made me want to get between

Evie and all of them. Couldn’t they see she was beat? I

managed to shoulder my way up to her and put my arm around

her waist.

“You did great, babe,” I said.

“I did the best I could.” She rested her cheek against my

shoulder for a second, and I heard cameras click. “I’ve always

had lousy luck on the river.”

Then she straightened, smiled, and gamely answered

questions as we walked slowly toward the elevator, people

crowding around us. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long

and the car going up was empty. Everyone was coming down

to hit the casinos or to watch more of the fi nals. As soon as the

doors closed behind us, Evie sagged against me and buried her

face in my chest.

I rubbed her back and stroked her hair. I couldn’t tell if

she was crying, but if she was, she’d earned a few tears for all

the blood and sweat she’d shed in the last six days. When the

elevator slowed and pinged at our fl oor, Evie didn’t even move.

I wondered if she’d fallen asleep standing up in my arms.

“Babe? Honey. We’re here. Time to get you to bed.”

Evie mumbled and burrowed a little closer into my chest.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kept her close

against my side as I led her down the hall to our suite. I keyed

the lock, got her inside, and turned the lights on low. She

appeared a little dazed as she glanced around the room, then

she gave me a sad smile. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“It isn’t. There’s always next year. And plenty of

tournaments before this one rolls around again.” I cupped her

face and kissed her. “Come on, let’s get you undressed.”

• 252 •

In Deep Waters 2

I led her unresisting into the bathroom, turned on the

shower, and undressed her—then myself. I guided her under

the spray, turning her gently as I washed her hair. When I

started to soap her breasts and belly, she closed her eyes and

swayed a little bit, so I held her with her back against my chest

with one arm around her middle. She rested her head against

my shoulder and gently clasped both hands around my wrist

as I lathered her breasts.

“Feels good,” she murmured drowsily.

“I know.” I kissed her damp cheek. Fact was, it felt great.

We’d had a kid right after New Year’s, and Evie’s breasts were

still as full as they had been when she was breast-feeding. Every

time I hold her breasts, I think about how beautiful she looked

with the baby in her arms, nuzzling her nipple. Watching them

together like that, my heart used to ache at the same time as

my body went crazy, and sometimes I had to leave the room

just to get a grip. Sometimes I’d be so damn excited I’d have

to go somewhere and just get off. My clit was jumping now

just from rubbing soap over her breasts, and I knew my timing

was off again. What she needed right now was sleep, not sex.

“Honey,” Evie whispered, “are you thinking what I think

you’re thinking?”

“No,” I said quickly.

She pivoted in my arms and wrapped hers around my

neck. “Liar.”

I massaged her ass and rubbed her back as I turned us

under the hot water and sluiced the soap from our bodies.

“Okay. I was thinking what you think I was thinking. But it’ll

keep until morning.”

“You know what I’d like?” Evie said when we stepped out

of the shower.

“What?” I wrapped one of the big fl uffy hotel towels

around her shoulders. There was plenty left over for me to dry

• 253 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

her breasts and belly, and as I rubbed the soft white cotton over

her, I felt myself grow fi rm again. I wasn’t going to keep until

morning, but I’d deal with that after I took care of her.

“I’d like it if you put me to sleep.” She took the towel

from around her own shoulders and blotted the water from my

body. Then she pressed against me and put her lips close to my

ear. “Make me come with your mouth.”

I kissed her and she melted into me. With an invitation like

that, if I hadn’t known how close to falling apart she had to be,

I would’ve boosted her up onto the granite-topped vanity and

made her come right then and there. With my mouth. Just the

way she likes it. But what she needed was to come hard, close

her eyes, and fi nally get some sleep, so I took her hand and

pulled her from the warm, steamy bathroom and over to the

bed. I tossed a few pillows on top of one another and guided

her down onto them so she was half sitting. She liked to watch

me make her come. Then I dove under the covers and pulled

them over both of us, leaving a tunnel around her belly so she

could see me. Then I licked her.

Evie smiled and played with my hair. “I’m glad you were

there tonight. I needed you.”

Her clitoris was a small, hard beating heart, and I kissed

it. “I’m really proud of you, babe. You did great.”

“I wish I could have won for you.”

“You’ve won for me a million times. And not just at

poker.” I brushed my hand up her stomach and felt her ribs too

close to the surface. She hadn’t been eating right. I cradled her

breast and used my mouth and teeth and tongue to suck and

toy with her until she writhed against my face.

Her breath came fast and hard now, and her legs trembled

against the outside of my shoulders. I played with her nipple,

sucked on her clit, and slid three fi ngers inside her. She gasped

• 254 •

In Deep Waters 2

in surprise and pressed hard against my mouth. That was her

signal she wanted to come, and I knew she would if I kept

doing what I was doing. If we’d been at home, on a Saturday

night with the baby asleep and a lazy day ahead of us, I might

have held her off. I could do that if I wanted, but not tonight.

She needed this now, and trusted me to give it to her. I pushed

a little deeper with my hand and set my teeth gently against the

shaft of her clitoris. It was my signal I was about to make her

come, and her fi ngers clenched in my hair.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered, and she came in sharp,

wrenching spasms against my mouth that fi nally tapered off to

slow contractions under my tongue.

When I was sure she was fi nished, I grabbed the covers

and pulled them up with me as I stretched out by her side.

She curled against my body, her head on my chest and one

leg partially over my thigh. Sighing softly, she cupped my

crotch and rested her thumb against my clitoris. That was

usually her signal that she was going to make me come in

her hand. My clitoris recognized the sign and got harder,

even though my head knew it wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

She’d be asleep in seconds, in fact from the sounds of her

slow, even breathing, I thought she might be already. I held

still because I didn’t want to wake her, even though every

muscle in my body clamored for me to lift and thrust and rub

against her hand.

Evie murmured something I didn’t understand and her

fi ngers twitched on my clit. The pressure was almost enough

to get me off and I held my breath, waiting for the next

stroke. Nothing. Just my poor helpless aching hard-on held

in the grip of the love of my life as she slumbered. I shifted

my hips, trying to ease away from her hand because even

the weight of her motionless fi ngers was more than I could

• 255 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

take. The muscles on the insides of my legs were starting

to cramp from the relentless tension, and the pounding in

the pit of my stomach was all I could think about. That, and

getting some relief.

I moved another inch and Evie jerked the way people do

who are asleep but verging on waking up.

“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“I didn’t get you off, did I?” she mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” I stroked her hair and gently moved

her hand from between my legs.

“You do it.” Evie’s warm breath tickled my neck. “Like it

when you do it.”

I didn’t need a gilded invitation. I need to come so bad. I

slid my hand where Evie’s had just been and groaned at how

good it felt to drag all that thick, hot wetness over and around

my clit. A few good strokes was all I was going to need, so I

tightened my grip around Evie’s shoulders and closed my eyes.

Evie must have felt me stiffen, or maybe I moaned, because

she twitched awake again.

“Coming, honey?”

“Uh-huh. In a second.”

She surprised me by reaching down below my hand and

sliding her fi ngers inside me.

“Wanna feel.”

I had my clit worked up to the point where nothing could

stop me from coming, but when she amped up the pressure

inside, I just shot off. I grabbed onto Evie and yelled so loud

they probably heard me out in the hall, but it felt so good, and

when I started coming she started fucking me and then it was

more than good. It was great and I was thrashing and crying

and begging her to just keep please keep fucking me. And she

did until I was boneless and completely fucked out.

• 256 •

In Deep Waters 2

“You know,” Evie sighed, her hand still inside me and

her thumb hooked around my clit, “I might have lousy luck

on the river, but coming home to you means I always end up a

winner.”

“I’ll be there after the last hand is played, baby, no matter

what,” I whispered.

Evie was already asleep, but I knew she heard me.

• 257 •

• 258 •

In Deep Waters 2

WINNING HAND

Karin Kallmaker

Better luck next time.”

I turned to stare at the woman who had just passed me

in the hall. “Were you at the seven-card fi nals?”

She didn’t pause, but said over her shoulder, her chin

brushing the mink casually draped there, “I was watching on

closed-circuit.”

She was fi fteen feet away from me, and farther away by

the second. “Do you watch me often?”

That made her turn around. The hotel’s opulence was

compromised by the housekeeping carts that dotted the

hallway. I needed to check out before the cut off. Needless

to say, after my losses at the tables, I couldn’t really afford

another night’s charge.

She fi ddled with her Gucci bag. “I watch you every chance

I get.”

I was aware of my suitcase in my hand, my leather jacket

• 259 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

tucked under my arm. I was getting out of town and she

obviously wasn’t going anywhere.

She was staring. Given her chic dress and air of someone

with places to go and things to do, it seemed out of character.

However, since hitting the big time on the poker circuit, I’d

attracted a few fans, some of whom offered more than their

admiration.

In that long glance we shared, I thought about a couple of

different things. I’d counted on winning more than I had, and

private stakes games had also gone badly for me. I was going

home with far less than I’d come with, and for the fi rst time in

my life, I’d been playing with money I couldn’t afford to lose.

It ached, the losing, when it hadn’t before.

And I was thinking about home, and I knew I had to go

back. I wasn’t seriously debating that. Every day my mother

stayed at the hospice was a larger bill I was going to have

trouble paying. My kid brother couldn’t be trusted not to

slip a paper in front of Mom to sign, giving him more of her

money and some of mine to feed his meth habit. I had a day

job waiting for me, unlike most high stakes players, because

poker didn’t give a steady enough stream for insurance and

taxes and Mom’s medical bills.

Sometimes I wanted to run away from home, and certainly

heading out to these tournaments was an escape. Coming home

with cash made it a legit way to spend my time. I was fully

intending to go back home, back to my responsibilities. So

okay, I wasn’t exactly Skipping-to-My-Lou to do so.

And I was thinking that this woman thought I was the Big

Time. Thought I must fuck as good as I played cards. I wasn’t

a quickie kind of gal, though, never had been. I wasn’t crazy

about the players who’d take a break, pick one of the dewyeyed girls out of the crowd, and disappear for fi fteen minutes.

• 260 •

In Deep Waters 2

I looked at her, and I could tell what she was promising, and I

didn’t want to be one of those guys.

But she wanted me to be one of those guys. Part of me

wanted to tell her that I was a little insulted by her presuming

I’d fuck and walk. The rest of me was thinking this could be

the best thing I got out of this trip to Vegas, that I could smell

her on my fi ngers during the fl ight back to San Antonio.

If we both got what we wanted out of fi fteen minutes, did

it matter if it was different things?

A housekeeper emerged from a room in between where

we stood staring at each other. She moved on to the next room,

swiping the lock with a card key and disappearing inside.

She hadn’t made sure the door of the room she’d just left

had closed completely…it was slightly ajar. Before a puff of

recirculating air blew it fully closed, I quickly pushed it open.

After a glance back at her, I walked into the room. I didn’t

have to look to know that she’d followed me.

I made sure the door closed.

My fi rst thought was that she was a little younger than

she looked from a distance, not exactly a compliment to her

makeup and hair designer. But the difference between forty

and fi fty didn’t matter to me. I pushed her against the wall. The

mink slid to the fl oor along with her handbag, and she yielded

completely to me.

When all the players sit down at the table, it’s a swirl

of motion and chatter, posturing and positioning, everyone

planting their early bluff. When the cards were dealt, the

players quieted. TV cameras became invisible, the drone of

announcers was silenced, the cacophony of bells, alarms,

wheels clacking, and a thousand voices talking all at once

faded into the background.

For me, everything went away except the eyes and hands

• 261 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

of my opponents and, of course, the cards. Her hands were

warm and pliable on my back. Her eyes were gray and her

pupils slightly over-dilated. Lust, I thought, and I kissed her.

She wasn’t an opponent and I was going to pay attention to all

of her.

“So you watch me every chance you get, huh?” I grazed

my teeth over her jaw and down her throat.

“Especially your hands,” she said. “I’m obsessed with

them. Lesbians should have to wear gloves.”

“I think right now you’re happy I’m not wearing gloves.”

There was no point in being subtle. I squeezed her breasts

through the thin fabric of her wrap dress before quickly

unfastening the tie that pulled it so alluringly around her

body.

“Your hands are as amazing as I thought they’d be. It’s

the way you hold the cards. The way your fi ngers curl and you

hold them like you can will them to whatever you want them

to be.”

She shivered when I peeled opened the dress. Victoria’s

Secret’s fi nest shaped and molded her breasts and hips, setting

off her honey-tanned skin with satiny pink. I pulled the bra

straps off her shoulders, then yanked her bra down to her

waist.

She gasped.

“I have a plane to catch, so we’re gonna make this

quick.”

“Yes, baby, that’s what I want.” She ground against me,

her eyes closed. I didn’t know what I was to her. Maybe she

did this with all the female players. A raw fi re lit in me. She

was obsessed with my hands?

I cupped her ass as I bit down on her inviting nipple. A

winning hand was what I wanted, and I thought I could get us

• 262 •

In Deep Waters 2

both there. Her skin was tightening along with her muscles.

She was on her tiptoes, head arched back, offering her breast

to me.

There was no time to spend on foreplay. We were in

somebody’s room and had to get out fast. I needed to get out of

town. She didn’t want a relationship, she wanted to get fucked.

I shoved my hand between her legs, pulled her panties aside,

and cupped the luscious beauty of her.

She thrust down on my hand with a little cry. “Take me,

baby. Any way you want.”

I knew what I wanted, but she was moving all over the

place. I let her go long enough to pull her into the bathroom,

then I pushed her up on the counter and spread her legs.

“My purse,” she gasped. “In my purse there’s lube.”

“You really want this, don’t you? Take your dress the rest

of the way off.” I was gone only long enough to fi nd the small

bottle, but the dress was on the bathroom fl oor when I got

back. I hooked my thumbs in her panties and yanked them

down until I could drop them on top of the dress.

She watched me lube my hand, watched me smear lube up

to my wrist, watched me sink into her, two fi ngers.

There was room, there was plenty of room. She pulled

my mouth to hers, kissing me frantically as one hand closed

around my forearm.

She showed me how hard she liked it. She showed me

how deep, and she wanted more. I grinned against her mouth

because I wanted more too, I wanted all of her, and that was

exactly what she was giving.

She braced herself when I tucked my thumb and I slipped

in with hardly a push. The little incoherent cries were all

encouraging as I pressed deeper and rubbed my knuckles all

along the ridge of her inner muscles.

• 263 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“I knew, I knew,” she repeated.

I knocked away her grip on my forearm, curled my fi ngers

inside her and pulled halfway out.

“No,” she moaned. “Stay inside me—”

I pushed in hard. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” Her eyes fl ew open. “Fuck!”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

Wet and wild, she arched into every thrust. There was no

restraint in her at all, and I wasn’t fi nding any either. My hand

was clasped inside her where she so badly wanted me, gripping

her against me as I pushed inside her, again, and again, and

again.

I gave it to her quick, hot, and hard.

She came for me exactly the same way.

A few minutes later, she shrugged her bra back into place

and pulled on her dress.

I gave her the bottle of lube. “The next tournament is

in—”

“Atlantic City.” She tucked the bottle into her handbag,

and slung the mink around her shoulders.

Opening the door just a little, I saw no one in the hallway.

I stepped back to let her out of the room fi rst. She turned right.

I turned left.

In the elevator I surreptitiously examined my still wet

hand, then raised it casually to scratch my nose. The scent of

sex overwhelmed all my other senses. Home was still a long

way away. For just a little while, I had a winning hand.

• 264 •

In Deep Waters 2

…DOESN’T STAY IN VEGAS

Karin Kallmaker

Who are you?” Debbie didn’t mean to bark, but her

throat was incredibly dry. She swallowed, which

caused a tight pain behind her eyes, and she

recognized the signs of a champagne hangover.

The red hair spread out on the pillow jerked out of reach

as the woman abruptly sat up. “Fuck you, too.”

“Sorry.” Debbie wasn’t even going to try to sit up. “Is this

my room or yours?”

“Yours. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

The full, rounded breasts were enough to make Debbie

sincerely regret her hangover. “No, it’s okay. Did we…?”

Eyes that were jade, and jaded, gave her a narrow look.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. You seemed pretty happy about it.”

“Were you pretty happy about it?” Something in the

women’s bad temper was actually grounding and refreshing,

as if they’d already moved past all the show and pretense and

it was Get Real or Get Out Time. Sort of like her last two

• 265 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

relationships without the months of wasted courtship.

She turned her head, eyes slicing. “Are you paying me to

be happy about it?”

With a jolt, Debbie remembered meeting the woman in

the bar. God, she’d been a total ass. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I

could have gotten us both arrested.”

“Which is why I hustled you up here. You stuffi ng twenties

down my shirt and announcing you’d double it if I’d—how

did you put it? Eat you on the back of your Yamaha at eighty

miles an hour? Yeah, that was going to get us arrested, and I

didn’t need that.”

“I’m sorry, honey. Really. I don’t drink much, but last

night…”

Another jolt and Debbie remembered why she’d hit the

hotel bar. A slow, hangover-banishing grin spread over her

face. A twelve thousand dollar pot was truly a beautiful thing.

She thought she’d drink some champagne, pick up some

companionship. “Cara.”

“What?”

Relieved she remembered the woman’s name, Debbie

managed to sit up. “I’m really sorry. Do you want some

breakfast?”

“Maybe I’ll just go.”

“No, please stay.” Hazy details were slowly coming into

focus. Cara had half-carried her upstairs and dumped her on

the bed. They’d been playful, shucking clothes, shinnying

under the covers, kissing…

Trouble was, the memories stopped there. She wasn’t sure

what had happened after that.

“Are you sure that we, um, you know?”

Cara rested her arms on her knees. “Maybe we didn’t.”

“I promised and passed out.”

• 266 •

In Deep Waters 2

She shrugged. “I’m not on the clock, so it’s irrelevant

what did and didn’t happen. I should go.” She swung her legs

over the edge of the bed.

“No, really.” Debbie put a hand to her head, rubbing a

little to ease the persistent throb between her eyes. “Stay.”

“I’m having a bad convention—okay, a bad year. I’m not

much good as company.”

“At least you can have some breakfast.” She pulled the

phone onto her lap and punched the speed dial for room

service. “What would you like?”

Cara tossed her long hair over her shoulders with a heavy

sigh. “Eggs and toast.”

She disappeared into the bathroom while Debbie conveyed

their order. Eggs and toast sounded good to her, too, as long as

it came with bacon and fried potatoes. Within a minute or two

she’d also visited the bathroom, downing a couple of aspirin

and quickly brushing her teeth.

The hotel must have had her room tagged as a high roller,

because room service had never arrived so quickly before.

Cara had pulled on one of Debbie’s button up shirts, and now

looked better than anything on the room service menu as she

perched on a chair, legs crossed, and plate balanced on her

knee.

“So what’s with the bad year?” Debbie chowed down

the potatoes as she watched Cara fork up her eggs far more

sedately.

“Got dumped. My car was stolen the day after I paid for

a new engine. That sort of thing. I came to the convention

thinking I’d fi gure a way to change my life, somehow just get

out of the place I was in. I agreed to be eye candy for some

writer, and then she dumped me for someone else. Then this

attractive dyke picked me out of the crowd to fl irt with, but it

• 267 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

turned out she was drunk and I didn’t get any action.” Cara

gave her a resentful look.

“That’s a crime. That dyke sounds like she owes you.”

“What’s she got besides breakfast?” Cara nibbled toast.

“A red vintage Yamaha and the open road?”

“So you weren’t joking about what you wanted last night,

were you?”

Debbie laughed. “Of course I was. I’m a safe biker, and

sex on a moving bike is asking for death. Foreplay, on the

other hand—”

“I thought the bike was foreplay.”

“It can be.” She was feeling much better for having

some food in her stomach. Champagne—it always gave her a

headache. Twelve grand in her pocket and she didn’t think to

get a good Scotch? “Sex on a stationary bike, say one parked

in the hotel garage, now that’s foreplay.”

“Sex is foreplay?”

With a crooked smile, Debbie said, “Because after that

we get on the bike and go for a long ride in the wind and the

sun.”

Cara had a little frown creased between her eyebrows.

“Are you telling me that riding your bike is better than sex?”

“Depends on the woman and the sex, don’t you think?”

“And the bike.”

Debbie laughed again. In spite of her bitter overtones,

Cara was diverting. She squinted at the clock. “If we hurry, I

can prove it before the day gets too hot to ride.”

“Believe it or not, that’s the best offer I’ve had in months.”

Cara fi nished her eggs in two mouthfuls. “Is there time to

shower?”

“Sure.” She’d no sooner said that than Cara was in the

bathroom turning on the water. The mirror gave her a multi• 268 •

In Deep Waters 2

refl ected look at the tumble of deep red hair down the lean,

curving back. She did her best to fi nish her breakfast in time to

join Cara—her stomach was demanding that she fi nish every

bite—but the shower was turned off before she was done.

She had her own quick shower and came out of the

bathroom to fi nd Cara in the tight black jeans and sapphire blue

top of the previous night. She took a deep breath, remembering

perfectly well now why she’d picked Cara out of the crowd of

women. She was beautiful. It was that simple.

A quick call to fellow traveler Rose scored her a jacket

and second helmet, and in no time at all they were down in the

parking garage and Debbie was eagerly showing off her pride

and joy. Cara didn’t say much as Debbie rambled on about

the restoration, the year, and model, but she didn’t act bored

either.

When Debbie fi nally paused for breath, Cara threw a leg

over the back, easily straddling the bike. Her red hair and

that blue shirt looked glorious against the bike’s custom paint

job. Her black boots were perfect against the chrome, and her

legs were long enough to fl at-foot it, well, with the help of

those spiked heels. With a grin of pleasure, Debbie helped her

strap on her helmet, then secured her own. The jackets were

unpleasantly warm. Cara didn’t argue about their necessity.

They had them on and half-zipped before she joined Cara on

the bike. Cara had the pegs down all by herself—no novice—

before she leaned into Debbie’s back.

The club had been out for a ride yesterday morning, so

Debbie followed the route, hoping Cara would enjoy it, even if

the desert was at its least interesting in August. She started with

the famous Strip, which truthfully didn’t look very glamorous

at this hour as the neon blinked dully against exteriors that

baked daily in the sun.

• 269 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

Heat rose off the pavement as they headed west out of

the city. The dry dust of the desert slowly yielded to hints of

green in the ground cover, then the formations of the Red Rock

Canyon rose into view. The road rolled out silver and white in

front of her. The loop drive was a delight to navigate, and the

warmth of Cara behind her was very welcome, even as the day

grew hotter and hotter. She had a beautiful woman hugging

her back and more money in the bank than she’d seen in years.

It was a gorgeous, new day.

By the time they were back in the parking garage, it

seemed blissfully cool by comparison. They both immediately

took off the jackets, then she helped Cara out of her helmet,

doffed her own, all the while grinning helplessly.

“So what did you think?”

“That was pretty fun.” Cara grinned back at her, looking

greatly refreshed. The jaded eyes had a new sparkle. “But I’m

still not convinced.”

“Of what?” The woman looked damned sexy, Debbie

thought, her feet still on the pegs. Her top was soaked

to her skin, which left only the really best parts to her

imagination.

“That the ride is better than sex on the back of the bike.”

Debbie’s chest got tight, but in a good way. “Can I help you

with your decision in some way?” She was already glancing

around, aware that this corner was low traffi c, which was why

she and a number of other members in the club had chosen it.

Suddenly looking vulnerable, Cara said, “I think you

know the answer.”

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“I said yes because I thought you were cute and I just

• 270 •

In Deep Waters 2

wanted…time with someone, no obligations but what we

might decide we wanted to do.”

“That’s pretty much what I was after, too, and I passed

out on you.” Debbie urged her forward so she could straddle

the bike behind her. “We can only get started here, though, at

least in broad daylight. Remember that part about not getting

arrested?”

“Yes.” Cara leaned forward to grip the handlebars.

“If you weren’t wearing pants, I could really make you feel

good.” Debbie ran her hands under Cara’s ass, then between

her legs. Cara’s responsive shiver was inviting.

“I guess you have a challenge, then.”

With a low laugh, Debbie leaned into her. “I do like

challenges. You didn’t meet the real me last night.”

There was no law against public massage if her hands

stayed off the parts of Cara that made her lusciously female.

And maybe that wasn’t a bad strategy, because every time her

hand caressed Cara’s ribs and shoulder blades, Cara arched

forward in a pose that made Debbie want to fi ll her hands with

those wonderful breasts. She hoped Cara was aching for it, that

her nipples were hard and fi rm. She would fi nd out upstairs.

For a few minutes, she abandoned Cara’s upper body, and

focused on thighs and hips. Cara lifted slightly as if to give

Debbie access to her ass.

“Do you dance?” Debbie traced the defi ned muscles that

had tensed to hold the pose.

“No, but I work out.”

“You feel fantastic.”

“You’re feeling me pretty fantastically, too.” Cara’s little

laugh turned to a half-moan as Debbie smoothed her hands up

Cara’s ribs again, then pulled hard enough to break her grip on

the handlebars. She draped Cara over her, secure in her arms,

and moved her crotch suggestively against Cara’s ass.

• 271 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

“Oh, now if we were in my garage at home, I’d have

something for you to really ride, honey.”

Cara didn’t miss the added purr in Debbie’s voice. “Is that

something you’ve given a lot of thought to?”

“Oh yeah.” Risking arrest for just a few seconds, Debbie

squeezed Cara’s crotch with one hand and her breast with the

other. “A really long, hot ride.”

“Oh…And you still think the ride is better than the sex?”

She buried her face in the luxurious red hair and nipped

at Cara’s neck. “Maybe not if you’re the woman. Let’s go

upstairs, honey.”

The elevator ride was blissfully short and it was good to

fi nd the room had been tidied in their absence. At Debbie’s

insistence, they both drained a water bottle from the minibar.

She was just about to suggest a piece of chocolate when the

unmistakable sound of clothes falling to the fl oor whipped her

head around.

Cara was wearing no pants and one long hand was gliding

lightly between her legs. “I think you said something about

making me feel good if I didn’t have pants on.”

Debbie rose to her feet, unable to hold back a refl exive

licking of her lips. “Take everything off.”

Cara lifted one eyebrow. “And is this the—”

The phone rang and Debbie snatched it up and growled

hello.

The background noise in Rose’s room was a jumble of

television and Rose’s girl singing in the shower. “Jeez, what

bit your butt? I just wanted to see if I could get my jacket and

helmet back.”

“If you’re here in thirty seconds or less.” Debbie gave

Cara a searing look as she put down the phone. “You do as

you’re told, now.”

Cara’s laugh did not convince Debbie that her attempt at

• 272 •

In Deep Waters 2

being in charge had been successful. She opened the door just

enough to hold the jacket and helmet outside and waited for

Rose to appear from down the long hallway.

Without warning, a fully naked, voluptuous female body

pressed into her from behind. Rose appeared from around

the corner, closing in fast as Cara rubbed her entire body the

length of Debbie’s.

“What’s the hurry?” Rose gave her a puzzled look as she

took the jacket and helmet from Debbie’s outstretched hand.

Cara found one of Debbie’s nipples and squeezed.

Debbie’s answer was strangled.

Rose started to ask again, but the sight of a very feminine

hand with pink-tipped nails over Debbie’s shoulder shut her

up. The hand waved a defi nite buh-bye. Rose grinned and

backed off, mouthing, “Call me later.”

Debbie managed to get her arm back on the same side of

the door with her body. The door slammed and Cara yanked

up her T-shirt.

They headed right for the fl oor, in a fl urry of clothes and

kisses. Cara was determined to keep her grip on Debbie’s

nipples, and Debbie didn’t mind, but it wasn’t going to stop

her from pinning Cara’s legs open with her hips for a hot,

steady grind. They ached, and it was a good ache, she decided.

She kept that ache on the edge for a long time, watching Cara’s

eyes shimmer and fl are.

When her nipples started to pulse from Cara’s rough

attentions, and her own cunt was sodden and hungry for more,

she half dragged Cara to the bed, rolled over her, and shoved

two fi ngers inside.

“Oh, yeah.” Cara spread her legs and arched up. “I was

starting to think you didn’t care.”

“I care, honey, and I’m gonna show you how much.” She

really wanted to wipe that still half-amused look off Cara’s

• 273 •

RADCLY fFE & KARIN KALLMAKER

face. She didn’t care what it took. She shoved in hard again and

Cara’s legs went limp. Oh, now she was getting somewhere.

“Finally.” Cara’s voice was signifi cantly weaker.

Debbie got into her groove. Her hips behind her hand, she

fucked Cara thoroughly, watched the fl ush climb her shoulders,

sweep up her neck, felt Cara’s arms drop away, saw her eyes

glaze. She panted for breath with little moans and all the while

Debbie could feel her tightening around her fi ngers. It was as

if all the other muscles in her body had no strength left while

her cunt tensed further and further.

She’d not felt anything quite like it before. Cara was

abruptly sopping wet and the power of her climax surged back

into the rest of her body. For a moment Debbie swore they

levitated, like the bike catching air as it crested a rise.

And Cara screamed, not a wimpy, pampered girl scream,

but one from deep down. There was no way anyone who

heard it wouldn’t know that a woman had just come, and had

loved it.

“Fuck, honey,” Debbie breathed, then she kissed her

fi rmly, more gently, and gentler still, until they slowed and

Cara let out a noise that was laughter and tears combined.

She held her for a minute, listening to her heartbeat steady.

“Well, I loved that.”

“So did I.”

Cara closed her eyes and Debbie decided to let her doze.

It wasn’t long until she stirred, though, and they shifted on the

bed, Cara snuggled into the circle of Debbie’s arms.

“So—sex or the ride?”

Debbie didn’t think twice. “I want both.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. And I want both.”

Cara said softly, “All I really have to do with my life is get

out of Las Vegas.”

• 274 •

In Deep Waters 2

“Same here. After a few days, I always feel as if the choice

is leave or become a lifer. And I have a life I like already.”

“Where?”

“San Francisco.”

“Never been there.”

Debbie wanted to ask, but her throat closed up.

“What you said about your garage and really giving me

a ride?”

She nodded.

Cara smooched Debbie’s shoulder, then looked up, bathing

her in warmth. “That sounded to me a lot like a promise, and

you wouldn’t want to let me down again, would you?”

Debbie gave a mock groan of surrender. “I think you have

me. I made a legally binding offer, didn’t I?”

“And I accept it, so you’re stuck with me, for now.”

She gathered Cara close. The road rolled out in silver and

white in her mind’s eye. Sharing the trip home, and maybe a

longer journey, seemed like a very fi ne adventure.

• 275 •

About Radcly f fe

Radcly ffe is an award-winning author-publisher with over

twenty-fi ve lesbian novels and anthologies in print, including

the Lambda Literary winners Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen

Moments ed. with Stacia Seaman and Distant Shores, Silent

Thunder. She has selections in multiple anthologies including

Wild Nights, Fantasy, Best Lesbian Erotica 2006, 2007, and

2008, After Midnight, Caught Looking: Erotic Tales of Voyeurs

and Exhibitionists, First-Timers, Ultimate Undies: Erotic

Stories About Lingerie and Underwear, A is for Amour, H is

for Hardcore, and L is for Leather. She is the recipient of the

2003 and 2004 Alice B. Readers’ award for her body of work

and is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the

world’s largest independent LGBT publishing companies.

Her forthcoming works include, Word of Honor (June 2008),

and Night Call (October 2008). Read more about her novels at:

http://www.radfi c.com

Story Attributions

“Full House” features characters from the novel, The

Lonely Hearts Club by Radclyffe (Bold Strokes Books, 2008).

“All In” features characters from the novel, Passion’s

Bright Fury by Radclyffe (Bold Strokes Books, 2005).

“On the House” features characters from the novel Night

Call, by Radclyffe (Bold Strokes Books, 2008).

About Karin Kallmaker

Karin Kallmaker’s novels include the Goldie and Lammy

award-winning 18th & Castro, Just Like That, Maybe Next

Time, and Sugar. Many have been translated into Spanish,

French, German, and Czech. More than fi ve dozen short stories

have appeared in anthologies from publishers like Alyson,

Circlet, Bold Strokes Books, Naiad, and Haworth, as well as

her own collections from Bella Books.

She and her partner are the mothers of two and live in the San

Francisco Bay Area. She is descended from Lady Godiva, a

fact which she’ll share with anyone who will listen. She likes

her Internet fast, her iPod loud, and her chocolate real.

All of Karin’s work can now be found at Bella Books. Details

and background about her novels can be found at:

http://www.kallmaker.com

Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

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Punk and Zen by JD Glass. Angst, sex, love, rock. Trace, Candace,

Francesca…Samantha. Losing control—and fi nding the truth within.

BSB Victory Editions. (1-933110-66-X)

Stellium in Scorpio by Andrews & Austin. The passionate reuniting of

two powerful women on the glitzy Las Vegas Strip where everything is

an illusion and love is a gamble. (1-933110-65-1)

When Dreams Tremble by Radclyffe. Two women whose lives turned

out far differently than they’d once imagined discover that sometimes

the shape of the future can only be found in the past. (1-933110-64-3)

The Devil Unleashed by Ali Vali. As the heat of violence rises, so does

the passion. A Casey Family crime saga. (1-933110-61-9)

Burning Dreams by Susan Smith. The chronicle of the challenges

faced by a young drag king and an older woman who share a love

“outside the bounds.” (1-933110-62-7)

Fresh Tracks by Georgia Beers. Seven women, seven days. A lot can

happen when old friends, lovers, and a new girl in town get together in

the mountains. (1-933110-63-5)

The Empress and the Acolyte by Jane Fletcher. Jemeryl and Tevi fi ght

to protect the very fabric of their world: time. Lyremouth Chronicles

Book Three. (1-933110-60-0)

First Instinct by JLee Meyer. When high-stakes security fraud leads

to murder, one woman fl ees for her life while another risks her heart to

protect her. (1-933110-59-7)

Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions. Thirty of today’s hottest

erotica writers set the pages afl ame with love, lust, and steamy liaisons.

(1-933110-58-9)

Storms of Change by Radclyffe. In the continuing saga of the

Provincetown Tales, duty and love are at odds as Reese and Tory face

their greatest challenge. (1-933110-57-0)

Unexpected Ties by Gina L. Dartt. With death before dessert, Kate

Shannon and Nikki Harris are swept up in another tale of danger and

romance. (1-933110-56-2)

Sleep of Reason by Rose Beecham. While Detective Jude Devine

searches for a lost boy, her rocky relationship with Dr. Mercy

Westmoreland gets a lot harder. (1-933110-53-8)

Passion’s Bright Fury by Radclyffe. Passion strikes without warning

when a trauma surgeon and a fi lmmaker become reluctant allies.

(1-933110-54-6)

Broken Wings by L-J Baker. When Rye Woods meets beautiful dryad

Flora Withe, her libido, as hidden as her wings, reawakens along with

her heart. (1-933110-55-4)

Combust the Sun by Andrews & Austin. A Richfi eld and Rivers

mystery set in L.A. Murder among the stars. (1-933110-52-X)

Of Drag Kings and the Wheel of Fate by Susan Smith. A blind date in

a drag club leads to an unlikely romance. (1-933110-51-1)

Tristaine Rises by Cate Culpepper. Brenna, Jesstin, and the Amazons

of Tristaine face their greatest challenge for survival.

(1-933110-50-3)

Too Close to Touch by Georgia Beers. Kylie O’Brien believes in true

love and is willing to wait for it, even though Gretchen, her new boss,

is off-limits. (1-933110-47-3)

100th Generation by Justine Saracen. Ancient curses, modern-day

villains, and an intriguing woman lead archeologist Valerie Foret on

the adventure of her life. (1-933110-48-1)

Battle for Tristaine by Cate Culpepper. While Brenna struggles to fi nd

her place in the clan, Tristaine is threatened with destruction. Second in

the Tristaine series. (1-933110-49-X)

The Traitor and the Chalice by Jane Fletcher. Tevi and Jemeryl risk

all in the race to uncover a traitor. The Lyremouth Chronicles Book Two.

(1-933110-43-0)

Promising Hearts by Radclyffe. Dr. Vance Phelps arrives in New

Hope, Montana, with no hope of happiness—until she meets Mae.

(1-933110-44-9)

Carly’s Sound by Ali Vali. Poppy Valente and Julia Johnson form

a bond of friendship that becomes something far more. A poignant

romance about love and renewal. (1-933110-45-7)

Unexpected Sparks by Gina L. Dartt. Kate Shannon’s attraction to

much younger Nikki Harris is complication enough without a fatal fi re

that Kate can’t ignore. (1-933110-46-5)

Whitewater Rendezvous by Kim Baldwin. Two women on a wilderness

kayak adventure discover that true love may be nothing at all like they

imagined. (1-933110-38-4)

Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love ed. by Radclyffe and Stacia

Seaman. Sign on for a class in love…the best lesbian erotica writers

take us to “school.” (1-9331100-39-2)

Punk Like Me by JD Glass. Twenty-one-year-old Nina has a way with

the girls, and she doesn’t always play by the rules. (1-933110-40-6)

Coffee Sonata by Gun Brooke. Four women whose lives unexpectedly

intersect in a small town by the sea share one thing in common—they

all have secrets. (1-933110-41-4)

The Clinic: Tristaine Book One by Cate Culpepper. Brenna, a prison

medic, fi nds herself drawn to Jesstin, a warrior reputed to be descended

from ancient Amazons. (1-933110-42-2)

Forever Found by JLee Meyer. Can time, tragedy, and shattered trust

destroy a love that seemed destined? Chance reunites childhood friends

separated by tragedy. (1-933110-37-6)

Sword of the Guardian by Merry Shannon. Princess Shasta’s bold

new bodyguard has a secret that could change both of their lives: He is

actually a she. (1-933110-36-8)

Wild Abandon by Ronica Black. Dr. Chandler Brogan and Offi cer

Sarah Monroe are drawn together by their common obsessions—sex,

speed, and danger. (1-933110-35-X)

Turn Back Time by Radclyffe. Pearce Rifkin and Wynter Thompson

have nothing in common but a shared passion for surgery—and

unexpected attraction. (1-933110-34-1)

Chance by Grace Lennox. A sexy, funny, touching story of two women

who, in fi nding themselves, also fi nd one another. (1-933110-31-7)

The Exile and the Sorcerer by Jane Fletcher. First in the Lyremouth

Chronicles. Tevi and a shy young sorcerer face monsters, magic, and

the challenge of loving. (1-933110-32-5)

Document Outline

Following Suit - Radclyffe

Full House - Radclyffe

What Happens in Vegas - Karin Kallmaker

Snakes Eyes - Karin Kallmaker

Let It Ride - Radclyffe

Three of a Kind - Karin Kallmaker

Lucky 7 - Karin Kallmaker

Top-Bottom Ticket - Karin Kallmaker

Switch Hands - Radclyffe

Dealer’s Choice - Radclyffe

Twenty-One - Karin Kallmaker

No Limit - Radclyffe

Hard Ten - Radclyffe

Double Down - Radclyffe

Upping the Ante - Karin Kallmaker

Insurance - Karin Kallmaker

On the House - Radclyffe

Betting Blind - Radclyffe

All In - Radclyffe

Payout - Karin Kallmaker

Solitaire - Karin Kallmaker

Luck on the River - Radclyffe

Winning Hand - Karin Kallmaker

…Doesn’t Stay in Vegas - Karin Kallmaker

Table of Contents

–Book Marks