Cruising the Strip (30 page)

“Sure.” She’d no sooner said that than Cara was in the bathroom turning on the water. The mirror gave her a multi-reflected look at the tumble of deep red hair down the lean, curving back. She did her best to finish her breakfast in time to join Cara—her stomach was demanding that she finish 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 find 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 finally 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 flat-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.

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 traffic, 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 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 fill her hands with those wonderful breasts. She hoped Cara was aching for it, that her nipples were hard and firm. She would find 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 defined 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.

“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 find 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 floor 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 reflexive 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 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 definite 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 floor, in a flurry 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 flare.

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 fingers 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 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 significantly weaker.

Debbie got into her groove. Her hips behind her hand, she fucked Cara thoroughly, watched the flush 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 fingers. 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 firmly, 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.”

“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 fine adventure.

Radclyffe is an award-winning author-publisher with over twenty-five 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.radfic.com

“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).

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.