I leaned onto the balcony's cold railing, peering out over the golden glow of the city against the midnight sky. Red and blue lights still painted the brick warehouse in the distance. Desirae had said they might be there awhile. There were still dozens of unanswered questions, but a calm sense of relief settled my nerves. Rafael was alive. Cora was alive. And Landon was behind bars.
Behind me, the patio door slid open, then softly latched. A blend of jasmine and spices floated through the air as Desirae joined me at the railing, fresh from her shower. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as she slid her phone into the pocket of her floral silk robe. Its weight loosened the tie around her waist, revealing a scalloped edge of bronze lace beneath. I fixed my eyes back on the warehouse. Greg would likely be coming over to celebrate the arrest after he wrapped things up with Rafael and Cora at the hospital. He'd be pissed to find me here in Desirae's shorts and t-shirt again.
I knew I should say goodnight, maybe thank her for saving my ass, definitely thank her for the hour-long soak in her tub, but I was dreading having to go back to the marina. Not out of fear, but having to sit with myself and my thoughts. Alone.
On the third floor of the warehouse, a light flicked on inside the loft where Artemisia and I had lived. I guess it made sense they'd search the whole property, especially if Pino was actually cooperating. An indistinguishable silhouette barely filled the arched window, but it felt like it was looking this way. I shivered as a chill slithered down my back.
"So, they want me back in DC tomorrow," Desirae's voice startled me.
"Tomorrow?" I shot a glance her way. "As in today, technically?"
"Technically, yes." She slid her locs off to one side of her neck, running her fingers through their blonde tips, eyes still focused towards the bay.
"Wow..." I tried to look anywhere else instead of at her to hide the disappointment on my face, but I was sure she could hear it in my voice. "I guess with Landon behind bars there's not much else for you here, huh?"
"There's still something," she murmured.
I nodded, gnawing at the cut on my lip. "Well, I'm sure the bodies in the cooler will link back to Pino somehow. You'll nail him for something, Des. I know it."
"Not that, Kirby."
As I turned to ask what she meant, the silk of her robe brushed against my bare thighs. Her lips stole the words from my mouth and pressed softly to mine. An electric shock of pleasure rippled through me, settling nowhere and everywhere all at once. But I realized too late that I was just standing there, mouth agape, not kissing her back.
"Sorry," she pulled away, "I know we shouldn't—I shouldn't, but I don't think I could've left without—"
I didn't let her waste another second debating what we should and should not do. My hand wrapped the back of her neck, the other on her waist, tugging her into me as my lips seized hers. Whatever liability made her initially pull away, she abandoned it now, crashing against me with the same equal force of desire. Warm vanilla and cool mint found its way to my tongue with each kiss deeper than the last.
Hungry for every inch of her, my lips followed the curve of her jaw as she breathed heavy into my ear. She tipped her head back into the night, giving me full access to the hollow of her neck, to her collarbone, to her shoulder where her robe continued to fall away. Her fingers threaded through my damp hair, guiding me lower to the scalloped lace of her bra.
The sweet taste of her skin purged every lingering question from my mind. Fuck the ghosts of our pasts, fuck the dumb clauses in the contract that I hadn't even read. All that mattered in this moment was us.
I slipped my leg between hers, drawing out a gasp from her lips when the skin of our thighs met. With her back braced against the railing, she curled her leg around my hip. Soft lace slid warm against my thigh as she grinded into me, flooding me with lust. Her fingers left my hair to trail over my chest, curling tight around the hem of my shirt. Her breaths were quick to become vocal, soft moans, when I met the roll of her hips with my own.
Just as our eyes met, she whipped me around so that my back was against the railing. I had to grip the twisted wrought iron to steady myself. With a sly grin, she took a few steps back, agonizingly slow to pull the tie free from her robe. Bronze lace cupped her breasts, matching her high waisted thong. The color was a perfect contrast to the rich umber tones of her body, complementary to the midnight blues that surrounded her. Where her gun holster had been, garters now strapped her thighs. I'll never know if she had just one or two guns, but I couldn't help but smile at the thought. She was nothing short of stunning, the embodiment of beauty and intelligence.
"I figured since you gave me a nice little tease at the museum last night, I'd return the favor," Desirae murmured. She let the robe fall low around her back, draping over her elbows. "Women always seem to appreciate lingerie more than men."
"I uh, wouldn't know," I finally managed to stammer. "But I definitely appreciate it—you. Appreciate you in it. Definitely." I swallowed hard and wet my lips. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
So eloquent.
Sliding the patio door open, she stepped inside and let the robe completely drop behind her, puddling at her feet. Backlighting from the bedroom traced her muscles in gold. My eyes followed the taut lines in her legs to the curve of her ass, her locs draped down her back. She glanced over her shoulder, watching me take her in. My pulse pounded through my body like a hot arc of electricity. Slowly, Desirae turned away to walk over to the bed, leaving the door open wide with invitation.
I didn't hesitate.
But as I slid the door shut behind me, I noticed the warehouse in the distance was now dark. No more red and blue police lights. No more silhouettes in the loft window. It was just another shuttered shadow against the bay. It felt like the beginning of an end. I quickly latched the door and left any hauntings of the past locked outside behind it.
Turning to the bed, I met Desirae's lustful gaze. The way she looked at me now felt the same as last night when I'd spotted her through the crowd at the museum. Lips parted and curved to a smile, sharp eyes hiding beneath long lashes. She leaned back to settle into the pillows, seeming confident, but her knees bent just slightly, rubbing together with either anticipation or nerves.
I lowered my mouth to her ankle, taking my time to leave a trail of kisses up her calf. When I reached her knees, they parted, allowing me to slide in between. As much as I wanted to bury my tongue between her thighs and taste her right then and there, I wanted to make sure. Carefully, I crawled back up to her.
"I thought you didn't do messy?" I whispered into her neck. "This definitely feels messy."
She smiled against my skin. "I'm learning to embrace it."
"Are you sure?"
When she didn't answer right away, I pushed up to find her eyes. Her chin tilted, lips wet and eager for mine again, but there was a new softness in the way she looked at me now.
"I actually haven't done this since my freshman year in college," she confessed. "With a woman, I mean."
I could feel the corner of my mouth curl up with a smirk. "Oh." I hadn't noticed it earlier, but the gold chain that held her husband's wedding band was missing from around her neck. Maybe she needed this as much as I did.
"But yes, I'm sure," she answered with certainty this time. "I've wanted you since I realized who you were."
"So you wanted to fuck an art thief?" I asked coyly. Reaching down between her legs, I found her lace already wet. My fingertips teased the center of her, stroking firm against the fabric. With each pass over her clit, her chest swelled with a breath.
"I've got a thing for bad girls," she whispered heavy with lust into my ear.
"Bad girls, huh?" The sight of her succumbing to me made me throb. I slid her lace to the side and slipped my fingers along her seam, slick with desire. With a sharp gasp, her hips raised and spread further, desperate for me to fill her, but I wanted her aching for it.
"Yes," she moaned.
Sliding up her center, my fingertips began to softly circle her clit. As her moans grew louder, heat spread through me and my own thighs became wet for her. But still I just teased her entrance, alternating between it and her clit in swirls.
"You want me inside?" I asked, watching the desire burn in her dark eyes. "These same hands that have touched unseen Degas' pastels?"
Her breaths quickened. "Yes."
"A raw, unfinished Freud..."
She became wetter with my confession.
"A long lost Rembrandt..."
Her brow twitched, wrinkling the pleasure on her face. Her eyes sharpened on me. "Rembrandt?"
I slid down her body and breathed hot against her clit.
"Fuck, Kirby," she gasped. "Which Rembrandt?"
As I wrapped my lips around her, her curses for me turned into moans. She writhed and arched beneath me, riding my tongue as it swirled around her. Again, I teased her entrance, but this time with my mouth. Her head sunk deep into the pillows and I could only see the rise of her breasts. My hand left her hips to slide beneath the lace of her bra, finding her nipple hard. My thumb caressed it, massaging firmly as I felt her clit swelling between my lips.
Abruptly, I pulled back. "Should I stop to confess, Special Agent Venus?"
"Don't you fucking dare."
Dipping my fingers inside her, I watched as her lips formed the shape of my name, but only a gasp came out. Slowly, I repeated the motion, easing another finger in to curl inside her like the crest of the wave in that stolen Rembrandt painting. Her hips opened wider, urging me deeper and I obliged. Stroking in and out and up against her, I lowered my lips back around her clit, quickening my pace. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tightening with each stroke, each lap, driving me deeper into her pleasure.
Until she pulled my head up.
"Do you want me to slow down?" I asked, searching her eyes.
"No—yes," Desirae stammered to catch her breath. "Well, I want to feel you too. If that's okay."
"That's more than okay," I murmured into her hip. "Anything you want, Desi." She tightened around me as I sweetened her nickname. "Wherever you want. I have very little limitations."
Carefully, I eased my fingers out, watching as her body writhed in protest of my absence. We both pushed upright to sit, but I let her take the lead.
Her long fingernails tickled my waist, gripping the hem of my shirt to lift it over my head. As I ran a hand through my dark hair to smooth it out, her eyes roamed over my body, appraising it like a piece of art. My ribs were still painted green and purple with bruises, blood still scabbed my knee, but she looked at me like I was worth something.
Timidly, she traced a finger around the curve of my breast, down over my ribs, hooking it into the waistband of my shorts. I tugged them off myself and kicked them to the floor, completely naked in front of her.
An eager glint filled her eyes as her hands fumbled behind her back with her bra. Having done its job, the lingerie fell to the bed in a shimmering puddle, her high waisted thong followed soon after, garters and all, so that no inch of fabric left a barrier between our skin this time.
Desirae reached up to cup my cheek and guided me back on top of her between her legs. Our breasts softly pushed together, creating a synchronized wave of shared breaths. Her hands hadn't even left my face yet and my body throbbed just feeling the warmth of her spreading across me. I savored the fullness of her lips as she kissed me even deeper than before.
Gingerly, she slipped her hand away from my cheek and lowered it between our bodies. Her breath hitched as the tips of her fingers found how wet I was for her. I was already so close. Careful to mind her nails, she circled my clit, making me tremble above her in a quivering mess. This pleased her.
"Is this what you wanted?" I whispered against her chin.
Her eyes darkened with desire. "It's a start."
Showing no mercy, she slid her fingers along my center until they slipped inside. I moaned against her lips as she dipped in and out, coaxing me closer and closer, but I wouldn't go without her.
I snaked my own hand down past hers and found her even wetter than before now that no lace barriers could interfere. Falling in rhythm with her, my thumb worked her clit as my fingers curled inside her again. She tightened around me and I could tell she was just as close as I was. Her calls for me grew sharper, her gasps became quicker, her body tighter. I fought to hold myself back, twitching as she found my spot.
But tenderly she slipped out, grabbing for the back of my thigh instead. She positioned my leg to straddle hers, then cupped my ass.
"I really want to feel you," she insisted. "Against me."
I knew what she ultimately wanted now, how she wanted to go. Sliding my fingers out away from her, I braced myself to lower my throbbing clit to hers. Long, gentle thrusts at first, but as her fingernails dug into my skin, I rocked harder, faster, against her. She arched and rolled her body, sliding wet over mine. My body quivered as pleasure crept up through me.
"That's it," she breathlessly urged. "Come for me."
My body obeyed, pulsating with explosions as hers quaked in sync with mine. Her legs wrapped around me, collapsing my body into hers as we rode out our orgasms in a tight embrace, blurring the lines between lust and the beginning of something more.