Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Read online

  "Pam," she gasped abruptly as skillful fingers found her nipple. "Time out…time out…oh, jesus…" She grabbed Pam's hand and stilled it against her flesh.

  "You're serious, aren't you?" Pam said in astonishment, drawing back far enough to look into Sax's face. She knew desire when she saw it, and she recognized the need in those heavy lidded, hazy blue eyes. "I suppose it would be churlish of me to say that I know you want this."

  "Wanting... is not the issue," Sax acknowledged, taking a deep breath and willing her heart to stop pounding.

  "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what the issue is?"

  "No," Sax replied, relieved to feel some small degree of control returning. I don't want to explain to myself.

  "Saxon," Pam whispered, removing her hand reluctantly. "It usually takes more than a kiss to make me want someone as badly as I want you right now. The only reason I care about your issues is because it's preventing me from having you. I'm a big girl... I'm not worried about tomorrow."

  "If it makes you feel any better," Sax said with a weary sigh, "you've pretty much fried my circuits, too."

  "But you're still not going to fuck me, are you?"

  Sax laughed. "Not tonight."

  "God, I hate you," Pam said, running both hands through her long blond hair and sighing. "I can't sleep like this, and we both need some rest." She reached for Sax's hand and pulled her upright with her as she stood. "Let's go swimming."

  "It's the middle of the night," Sax exclaimed, but she followed obediently as Pam tugged her through the front door.

  "Good. Then no one will know we're naked except us."

  *****

  The night was never truly dark in New York City, because the lights from thousands of buildings and tens of thousands of cars always illuminated the sky in a palette of ghostly pallor. The windows were open, street noises wafted up from below, and a faint breeze cooled the sweat on her skin.

  "I'm fine," she whispered, cradling the still trembling woman in her arms. She ran her fingers through the other woman's hair, over her shoulders and down her back, resting her hand in the delicate valley just above her hips. The skin was so soft there, so fragile, and it was such a private place--it never ceased to fill her with wonder each time she touched her there. "You were enough."

  "Mmm," Lori sighed, brushing her cheek over Jude's breast. "You were wonderful. And as soon as I catch my breath, I want to return the favor."

  "It's late, we should get some sleep."

  "I'll put you to sleep," Lori insisted, rousing herself and sliding on top of Jude. She insinuated her leg between Jude's thighs, her breath catching quickly as she felt the wet heat against her skin. "God, I love the way you feel."

  Jude sensed her own arousal as if from a distance. They'd made love, because it was part of the rhythm of their relationship, and her body had responded to the familiarity and the stimulation. But even as she caressed the places she knew so well, and drew from Lori cries of pleasure and finally, sobs of release, she'd felt as if she were watching a favorite film. She recognized the players, and the play, and she couldn't help but respond. She was aroused, but still she felt a disconcerting disconnection that left her feeling hollow, and alone.

  Lori moved lower over her body and the silken heat of Lori's mouth made Jude gasp. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind, willing her body to find release. It wasn't something she usually had to work at. She hovered close to climaxing for agonizing minutes, muscles taut and nerves singing--shivering on the brink, straining for the peak. Breath tore from her lungs on strangled sobs and her heart thundered in her ears. She was burning, bleeding, dying-and still the moment eluded her.

  Gasping, she meant to tell her to stop; she meant to say she couldn't. She didn't mean to allow the images of another place, another face, to surface. She didn't mean those other eyes to hold her, or that stark, intense image to claim her. But it happened, and she couldn't stop it-she couldn't stop the swift surge of blood that pulsed through her already painfully distended flesh, plummeting her wildly into orgasm.

  "Oh god, oh god, oh god," she whispered, Saxon Sinclair's face shimmering through her mind. What am I going to do?

  Chapter seventeen

  "I thought you'd overslept," Melissa said teasingly around a mouthful of muffin as Jude sat down beside her in the cafeteria. Jude was never late. When her friend failed to reply, Melissa looked up from her breakfast and regarded her seriously. "You look beat," she said matter-of-factly. "Rough night?"

  "Not exactly," Jude replied, considering whether she even wanted the yogurt she had picked up more out of a sense of responsibility than from hunger. After Lori had fallen quickly asleep beside her the night before, she'd barely slept, lying awake to stare at the ceiling and wonder what was happening to her. Finally she'd slipped into a fitful slumber just before dawn, only to be awakened in what felt like minutes by the alarm. She'd rolled over and closed her eyes, trying to decide if she should awaken Lori and talk to her then about what she was feeling. But what was she feeling ? What was she going to say? I've been unfaithful to you with a fantasy vision? She wasn't even certain that Lori would consider it unfaithful if she'd actually started seeing another woman, let alone been guilty of nothing more than some severely erotic fantasies about one. They'd never placed any limits on each other regarding monogamy; for her it had just worked out that way. Seeing Lori was all she had time for, and apparently the same was true for Lori as well. They were monogamous by default.

  In the end she'd pulled herself from bed, more exhausted than she was after being up all night working. She had merely leaned over and dropped a light kiss on Lori's cheek as she left, whispering goodbye and remaining silent about her own troubling thoughts. They both had to work, and she could barely make sense of her own emotions, let alone articulate them to a woman with whom she'd been intimate for months, but who in many ways she hardly knew. Lori deserved more than a rushed explanation at some ungodly hour of the morning that was going to make very little sense to either of them.

  "Are you okay?" Melissa asked, completely seriously now.

  "Yes...no…I don't know," she said, surprising herself at the admission. She smiled ruefully across the table, aware and appreciative of the concern in Mel's eyes. "It's nothing serious. Relationship stuff."

  "What's happening? Does Lori want to move in with you?" Melissa asked, imaging that the attorney had finally pushed for the relationship to become more serious. Jude hadn't seemed likely to.

  "No, thank God," Jude said with true relief. "In fact she's never pressured me about that kind of thing. She seems to be pretty happy just the way things are--casual and sort of unstructured."

  "So...?" It was clear to Melissa that something was bothering Jude, and she couldn't understand why Jude was being so vague. She was one of the most direct people Melissa knew. "Do you want to get more serious then?"

  Jude shook her head emphatically. "Not at all. Everything is fine just the way it is."

  "Uh-huh. That's obvious."

  "I'm just tired," Jude reiterated, forcing herself to make some effort at breakfast. Lori hasn't asked for anything more, and I don't want anything more. So what's the problem? But she knew what the problem was. She couldn't continue to make love to one woman while thinking of another, and she didn't know how to stop thinking about Saxon Sinclair.

  *****

  Pam pulled the convertible to the curb in front of St. Michael's and turned in the seat to study her passenger. "I'd like to see you, Saxon. You know that. Dinner, the theater, a few hours in bed...anything you like. Will you call me when you're ready? If you're ready?"

  Sax sighed and met Pam's gaze. She wasn't at all sure why she was resisting. Pam Arnold was alluring and talented and sexy as hell. Losing herself in Pam's arms was likely to give her at least two things she needed-a few hours of rest and a reason not to dream about Jude Castle. Still, she hesitated. "I'm not exactly relationship material, Pam. And I meant what I said last night about avoiding i
nvolvement with anyone at work."

  "I'm not looking for a relationship, Saxon," Pam insisted as her eyes traveled the length of Sax's body. "I'm looking for a little diversion and a little pleasure and I have a feeling that you're exactly what I require." As Sax laughed good-naturedly and stepped from the car, Pam added deliberately, " Call me."

  Standing on the sidewalk watching Pam pull away, Sax wondered if Jude had arrived at the hospital yet, mentally reviewing the morning's schedule. She might not see the filmmaker all day if the admissions were slow and they had no reason to film. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe then the insistent hum of arousal that only got worse whenever Jude was near would dissipate. Maybe.

  *****

  Personal Project Log -- Castle

  August 3 -- 10:35 PM

  DRM -- 15,530-17,200

  It's only been a month, but already I can see the changes in Deb. She's always confident, and of course she should be, because she's already finished an entire general surgery residency before coming to St. Michael's. Still, a month ago she was a brand new trauma fellow, and now she seems like a seasoned veteran. [Note: Episode title-Squad Commander] Today was one of those days when there was a steady stream of injured…most of them blunt traumas…motor vehicle accidents usually. We'd just get one settled and another would arrive. I noticed that when new patients rolled into the trauma admitting area, Sax didn't get involved in the assessment as quickly. Sometimes not at all. She still watched everything, and supervised everyone in the same totally efficient, totally confident, totally commanding manner…but she let Deb lead the team and make all the calls. Still, I could feel Sax there in the background, watching. There's something comforting about knowing that she's there and that if anything goes wrong, you're not alone.

  Jude turned off her recorder and leaned out over the top of the stone wall edging the rooftop, letting the night wind cool her skin and thinking about what she had just said. If anything goes wrong, you're not alone. She wondered why that mattered to her. As a child, she had struggled for independence, especially during the years when much of her life had revolved around competition and she had chaffed at the restrictions that had placed upon her. She had finally found something of her own in filmmaking, and had pursued it both because it satisfied her intellectually and because it was her banner of freedom. She enjoyed her friends and her more intimate relationships, but she had always hesitated to establish any serious ties for fear that she would no longer be able to control her own life. Being alone had never bothered her.

  She shrugged impatiently, annoyed at her introspection. She should be pleased. It had been a busy but not overwhelmingly hectic day. They had gotten high-quality footage, and it was a good day's work. Things are going even better than you expected. Don't complicate the situation now.

  "I can leave if you'd rather be alone," a quiet voice said from behind her.

  Jude turned to search the darkness, a rush of heat rising unbidden when she recognized the familiar figure. "I'm in your space up here. I'll leave."

  "No," Sax said as she approached. She stopped by Jude's side and leaned her elbows on the wall. "Stay. Please."

  For a few moments they said nothing, merely standing side by side in companionable silence, watching the city teem with life far below.

  "Why did you decide to do this...surgery, I mean?" Jude asked quietly, not expecting Sax to answer. She wasn't even sure why she had asked, except that she wanted to know.

  Perhaps it was the fact that she sensed only honest interest that Sax answered. "Surgery is one of the few areas in medicine where you know you've made a difference almost immediately. You don't have to wait for a drug to work or for a test to be completed. You make a difference with your hands and your mind. And if it doesn't work, it's on you. You know where you stand in surgery. There are no gray zones."

  "That's sounds…comforting," Jude observed.

  "Yes," Sax replied, a note of surprise in her voice. She hadn't really expected Jude to understand.

  "And why trauma surgery?" Jude probed again softly. She heard Sax sigh and saw her shrug from the corner of her eye. This is where she turns around and leaves. She made it pretty clear yesterday morning that she wasn't going to talk to you about herself. Why can't you just let it be? But she couldn't. She'd never hungered to know anyone the way she wanted to know Saxon Sinclair. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself. It was more than respect and more than attraction and more than curiosity. When she looked at her, she saw so many things -- dedication, responsibility, anger, stubbornness, passion. Most of all passion... for what she did and for what she believed. She was too intriguing to walk away from. When Sax made no comment, she repeated, "Why trauma?"

  "Ego is a big part of it," Sax admitted. "It's a personal challenge when a life is on the line and you're the only one there that can change the tide."

  "And when you fail?"

  "You try to make sure that doesn't happen."

  "Everyone tells me that trauma burns you out quickly," Jude commented. "After only a month I can understand why. It's so intense, and there's so little time to make a decision. So much depends on what you do. You personally . Doesn't that take its toll--wear you down?"

  "It does for some people," Sax replied, turning to meet Jude's gaze. "But it's that pressure--that thrill--that makes it all worth it, too."

  Even in near darkness, Jude could see Sax's eyes sparkle. There was a pent-up energy and excitement about her that was nearly palpable. "I bet if you weren't a surgeon you'd be a firefighter or an astronaut or some other high stress, adrenaline-producing job."

  "Maybe," Sax agreed, chuckling. "There's nothing quite like winning."

  For a moment as she watched Sax laugh with her head tilted back and moonlight angling off her profile, Jude forgot what they were discussing. All she could think of was how beautiful her companion was. It was more than just physical; there was a magnetism and vitality about her that made Jude want to grab on to her and soar wherever that crazy energy would take her. It was a heady, addictive feeling that made her want to stop thinking and just feel.

  "How about you?" Sax asked unexpectedly. "What is it about filmmaking that satisfies you?"

  "A million things," Jude acknowledged, her heart still pounding. "In a lot of ways it's like what you do. It's technically challenging, it's exciting, and there are rewards beyond my own personal satisfaction. Film is a communication medium, and communication is one of the greatest tools for shaping society." She laughed a little self-consciously, pushing her hair back with one hand in a gesture that Sax was coming to recognize. "Not that I think I'm changing the world, but if what I do causes a few people to think about something differently-to think at all-then I've succeeded."

  "I understand," Sax said quietly. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to Jude. The moments they'd spent together were some of the most relaxing she could remember. She had spent her life surrounded by intense people, but Jude's quiet intensity was both comforting and compelling. From the very first moment she had met her, she had sensed Jude's underlying honesty and commitment, and perhaps more than anything else, that was what she valued about her. Maybe it was because they were alone in one of the few places where she had ever been able to relax, but she felt oddly peaceful. She didn't really stop to think about what she said next. "I owe you an apology for yesterday morning. I know you were just doing your job..."

  "No, you don't need to apologize. When I'm interviewing I tend to be relentless, because I've learned that often times the only way to get the story that you want is to push. You told me upfront what the rules were and I ignored them."

  "I'm sorry, nevertheless," Sax repeated.

  "Accepted then," Jude replied softly.

  They were standing very close together, completely alone on the rooftop of the hospital. The night lay heavy and warm around them, cocooning them and making it seem as if they were even more isolated than they actually were. Halogen lights at the far corners of the helipad lit
the landing area in a harsh artificial glare, but they stood outside the illumination in shadows.

  Neither of them wanted to end the moment; neither of them moved into the light.

  *******

  chapter eighteen

  As it turned out, neither of them had a chance to suggest they go back inside. Sax's beeper went off, making the decision for them.

  Trauma alert STAT... trauma admitting... Trauma alert STAT... trauma admitting... Trauma alert STAT... trauma admitting...

  Sax shrugged an apology as she turned and sprinted away, Jude close on her heels. Not bothering with the elevators, they clambered down the concrete steps of the stairwell to the first floor. By the time they reached trauma admitting, the first of multiple gunshot victims were being wheeled in from a series of emergency vehicles pulled up behind the trauma admitting bay. Deb was already there, receiving the first patients and starting her evaluation; Aaron Townsend was triaging and informing other nurses and residents as to which individuals needed immediate attention; Mel was on scene with her camera rolling.

  "When have we got?" Sax asked as she came through the double doors on the run.

  "Gang fight," Deb replied without looking up from the young male she was intubating. "Multiple penetrating injuries -- gunshot and stab wounds."