Bliss (24 page)

Sinclair watched her hop into her truck and take off down
the road as if she did have an urgent appointment elsewhere.

"Sinclair, is that you?" Nikki came to the front door as
Sinclair was unlocking it. Something she saw in her stepdaughter's face made her smile. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes." Her face heated and she looked away. "I did."

Nikki closed and locked the door behind Sinclair. "You
sound surprised."

"Yes, I thought-" Sinclair stopped herself from saying
something about having to fight Hunter off. She remembered
in time who she was talking to. "I just didn't think I would."

"But you still went."

Sinclair laughed. "Yes."

"Stranger things have happened, I guess." Nikki's smile
was teasing.

"True enough." Sinclair looked around, noticing for the
first time how quiet the house was. "Where are the boys?"

"At a movie. Some kung fu thing." Nikki shrugged.

"Ah. Boys indeed." She could see where Nikki had made
herself comfortable on the sofa with a book turned facedown and a bookmark sticking out from between its pages.
Nearby on the coffee table sat a platter of sweet biscuits and
a glass of amber colored liqueur.

"I'll let you get back to your quiet evening, then." She
started to walk through the living room.

"No. Stay." Nikki made room for her on the couch.

Sinclair came back and sat down, tucking her bag in the
corner between the wall and the coffee table.

"So," Sinclair said to break the silence. "What are you
doing this evening?" The inanity of the question made her
want to roll her eyes.

Nikki giggled. "You can do better than that, right?"

"At another time, maybe. Hunter has my mind doing all
kinds of crazy cartwheels today." Too late, she realized what
she just hinted at.

"She is a challenge, isn't she?" Nikki looked at Sinclair as
if inviting her to share a secret. "Lydia thought she could
handle her, but she can't."

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "It's not about can't.
She just won't."

"I doubt that."

Nikki sounded fairly certain of what she was talking
about. It made Sinclair wonder. "What do you know about
Hunter?"

"Not much. But I can see that you want to know her better. "

Sinclair felt a blush climb hot and fiery up her throat. She
coughed on air and turned away from her stepmother's teasing smile. The phone rang and saved her from responding.
Nikki stood up and disappeared into the kitchen to answer it. Moments later she was back with the cordless phone in
hand.

"It's for you."

"Hey, it's Hunter." The woman's voice caressed her ear
through the phone.

"I know. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, fine. Why shouldn't everything be OK?"

"You're calling me when I just saw you less than half an
hour ago."

"So you don't want me to call you, is that it?"

"No, that's not it. Quit putting words in my mouth." Too
late she heard the teasing note in Hunter's voice. "What do
you want?"

"You. For dinner tomorrow evening. Is that possible?"

"Um." Sinclair swallowed past the lump in her throat.
"I don't see why not."

"Good. I'll be by to get you at four thirty."

"OK. See you then." Sinclair ended the call, avoiding
Nikki's eyes. "Yes, I do want to know more about her," she
finally said, feeling her face heat up again.

Nikki's smile was full of mischief. "No crime in that."

A question took hold of Sinclair's tongue. "Not that I'm
trying to find conflict where there is none, but why are you so
OK with this?"

"Why shouldn't I be? I know people think that everybody
in the Caribbean wants to stone gay people and blame their
visit to foreign countries for `turning them gay,' but I had a
lot of good girlfriends growing up who still play the games
we used to play as children. They're still my schoolmates. I'm
not going to stop being their friend just because they don't
like what I like in the bedroom."

That was the longest sentence Sinclair had ever heard the
younger woman speak. She smiled, feeling a sudden rush of
warmth for her stepmother. "Thank you."

Sinclair and Nikki shared the glass of Grand Marnier and conversation until nightfall. When Victor and Xavier came
home, Nikki excused herself to tend to her boys and Sinclair
went out into the dew-dusted night to be alone with her camera and her thoughts.

When Hunter knocked on the door the next evening wearing a powder blue dress shirt and black slacks that fell in an
elegant wave of cloth over shiny black loafers, Sinclair was
relieved. She didn't want to be the only one to dress up.
Hunter gave her apple-green silk dress a long appreciative
glance before greeting Victor Daniels.

"Hello, Mr. Daniels."

When the doorbell had rung he had put down his paper to
answer it but Sinclair beat him to it, dashing out of her room
in the gauzy, slim-fitting dress. Now he looked from one
woman to the other with curiosity. Beside him, Nikki smiled
at Hunter.

"Good to see you again," she said.

Hunter nodded and gave her one of her lazy smiles.

"I'll be back later on," Sinclair said.

"We'll probably be in bed when you get back." Nikki was
careful not to smile as she said that.

"That's OK. I have my key."

"Be careful then," Victor said with a slow nod. "Drive
carefully out there."

"Yes, do," Sinclair said to Hunter as they closed the door
behind them.

"Of course." Hunter opened the passenger door of her
Jeep for Sinclair. "I wouldn't want to end our date before it
begins."

Sinclair rolled her eyes. Hunter did drive slowly this time,
entertaining Sinclair with details of her eventful day at the
university until they pulled up at the beachfront restaurant.
Coconut trees swayed in the front driveway with a sound like
quiet laughter, welcoming them into the faux-thatch-roofed
building.

The thickly muscled host in a yellow tie led them through
the meagerly peopled restaurant out to the large back deck
only a few feet from the water. Out here, only three of the
dozen or so tables were occupied. Hunter pointed to the
table farthest from the others that was tucked in a corner by
the railing.

"We'll take that one."

The host pulled out their chairs and laid two menus on the
table. "Your server will be right with you." He disappeared
back into the restaurant.

"This is gorgeous." The beach stretched beyond them for
a few yards before falling into the hypnotic quiet of the sea.
Tonight the moon was barely a sliver in the inky sky.

"I'm glad you like it. My cousin, Clifton, is the owner and
he's pretty proud of the place."

"It doesn't seem very crowded though."

"It's only five o'clock. He gets most of his business from
the late dinner crowd and the brunch set on the weekends."

"How come we didn't have reservations for later, then?"

"It should be pretty obvious to you, you're not a stupid
woman."

"Humor me anyway."

Hunter winked. "I wanted you all to myself, of course."

The waitress approached before she could say anything
else. "Good evening, ladies." The woman was tall and voluptuously built with large high breasts, easily the size of Sinclair's
head each, and full womanly hips held tight by her red dress.
She gracefully placed two glasses of water in front of the two
women. "Welcome to Celestial."

"Hey, Hyacinth."

The woman looked at Hunter for the first time. "Hey, girl.
How are you doing?"

"Good, good. Can't complain, you know."

"Oh, yes. I understand." Her eyes slid over Sinclair. "This
your new girl?"

Sinclair hid her smile.

"I'm trying, but you know how slippery some women
are."

"Slippery, huh? Interesting turn of phrase, my dear."

Hunter chortled. "Behave, Hyacinth."

"Why? Life is too short." She winked at Sinclair. "Can I
get you anything to drink?"

"The house port, please," said Hunter.

"Hmm, seduction wine." Hyacinth grinned and turned to
Sinclair. "And you, my dear?"

"Gilbey's and tonic for me, please."

"Coming right up." She did a sassy turn on her high heels
and left them alone.

"Sorry about that." Hunter gave the other woman a look
of chagrin. "I should have known better than to bring you
here."

"It's all right so far. The waitress is fun." Sinclair glanced
down at her menu. "Do you bring girls here all the time?"

"No. Not all the time. Della came here with me once.
Usually I'm here alone with my laptop." Hunter gestured to
the restaurant. "Sometimes it's just nice to be among other
gay people."

Sinclair looked around in surprise, noticing for the first
time the refined flamboyance of a few of the male customers
and the rainbow-colored Christmas lights threaded along the
railing of the deck. "This is a gay restaurant?"

"Not exclusively. But a lot of the clientele and staff are. So
is the owner."

"Your cousin?"

"My cousin."

"Here you go, my dear." Hyacinth twisted open the bottle
of wine and put it and two glasses on the table. I'll be right
back with the gin and tonic."

Hunter had just finished pouring wine into her glass when
the waitress came back with Sinclair's drink. "Your Gilbey's
gin and tonic." She presented it with a theatrical flourish.
"Do you know what you'd like for dinner?"

"I know what I'd like, but I'm not sure if-" began
Hunter.

"I'm ready, too," Sinclair said. "Can I have the steamed
parrot fish with rice and peas?"

"You can have anything you want, sugar."

She arched an elegantly plucked eyebrow at Hunter. The
other woman grinned as she gathered up the two menus and
handed them to Hyacinth. "Chicken roti for me with a side
of corn. On the cob and roasted."

"Yes, ma'am."

After Hyacinth left, Hunter lifted her glass in a toast. "To
a pleasant evening."

Sinclair echoed the toast. "And thank you for bringing me
here. The view and company alone so far have been well
worth it."

"Anytime you want me to repeat the experience just let me
know."

They shared a smile and drank deeply from their glasses.
The light caught the gleam of burgundy the wine left on
Hunter's mouth. Sinclair tasted the gin on her own lips wishing suddenly for a taste of port, preferably from the pair of
lips across from hers.

"Don't you think it would be wrong if we got involved?"
she asked suddenly.

Hunter put her glass down. "In what sense?"

"Morally, of course."

"Why? I'm not involved with anybody and, as far as I
know, neither are you."

"And Lydia?"

"What about her? I never fucked her so there won't be any
mixture of sisterly body fluids on my toys or in my mouth."

Sinclair's thighs clenched at the vivid imagery but she
pressed on. "What about your emotional attachment?"

"Damn near nonexistent at this point." Hunter sipped her
wine. "As far as I'm concerned, what she and I had has nothing to do with us. She's the past. You and 1 are right now."

"Easy for you to say."

Hunter smiled. "It is. You can say it with me if you want."

Sinclair nudged her foot under the table. "Will you please
be serious?"

"You want me to be serious? Really? Then how about
this? Your tits look amazing in that dress, the perfect size for
my mouth." She lifted the wineglass by the rim, dangling it
by her fingertips. "I want to lap you up like you were my last
meal on earth. I want to fuck you with my tongue and my
fingers until you come so hard and so much that your pussy
juice drips into my palms. And after I tie you to the bed and
make you ready for my dick I'll be able to lick my hand off
and taste you all over again."

Sinclair released her breath in a slow, shuddering sigh. But
Hunter wasn't done yet. She leaned back in her chair and unzipped her pants. Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered
closed briefly before she pulled a slick finger from beneath
the tablecloth.

"See how wet I am for you?" She leaned close, tilting her
wet finger toward Sinclair, who could smell the briny damp
of her, pungent and tempting. Her own body clutched at
emptiness, wanting to feel that finger, Hunter's tongue, anything, inside. She bent quickly, a snakelike motion of her
head and licked the other woman's finger, sliding her tongue
between it and its neighbors to clean it of all its flavor, sucking the long digit deep into her mouth. At first Hunter drew
back, surprised. Then she leaned closer, lips parted, breath
coming heavily. Sinclair grasped her wrist and pulled her
closer, her mouth sucking steadily on the finger, her tongue
stroking. Hunter groaned.

"I see you started dinner a little early."

They both jumped back guiltily at Hyacinth's voice.
Hunter dropped her hand in her lap and Sinclair blushed
painfully and looked down at the table. They made room for
the large steaming platters of food the waitress set down before them.

"Enjoy," she said and left them to their meal.

"Fuck!" Hunter breathed when they were alone again.

Yes, please. Sinclair took a steadying breath. "The food
looks good." She picked up her fork and held it poised over
the fish.

Across the table, Hunter looked flustered. She drank
deeply from her water, finishing half the glass in one greedy
gulp. When that didn't do what it was supposed to, she
drank the whole glass then took a healthy sip of her wine.

"I think you won that round," she said at last.

"I'm just trying to keep up with you." Sinclair forked a bit
of the flaky, golden simmered fish into her mouth. It was perfectly flavored with pale curls of onions, bits of pimiento,
and tiny tomatoes, wilted and draped across it like bits of
confetti. Still her mouth watered for another taste of Hunter.
Preferably direct from the source.