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Reed is half-naked in Stella’s bed, in London, when somehow, the topic of sex with men comes up. Stella reveals that she only has sex with men under very specific circumstances—if she’s in complete control. The two women have shared their histories as survivors of sexual violence before, and although the specifics of those histories are quite different, their experiences produce similar feelings and effects. Reed understands Stella’s insistence on complete control with men in this context, and they agree that it’s simultaneously therapeutic and hot. It’s not wrong for it to be both.
“But what exactly does that look like?” Reed asks. “You having complete control?”
“It doesn’t always look the same, but I make clear what my boundaries and expectations are, and if my partner does not like them, he ceases to be my partner.”
“Have you ever had sex with women like that?”
Stella considers this for a moment. “Come to think of it, no. I’ve always been a bit more… flexible with women.”
“Would you want to?” Reed asks suggestively. “With me?”
The question surprises Stella. Their lovemaking is consistently mind blowing, but Reed’s never been particularly experimental. Or maybe Stella just hasn’t been allowed to see this side of Reed yet. “That would depend,” she answers slowly and watches as Reed pushes herself up and climbs on top of Stella, rolling her onto her back in the process.
“On what?” Reed is on all fours, hovering above Stella, until she rests her forearms on either side of Stella’s head and dips her mouth down, nearly brushing Stella’s ear with her lips. She whispers, “What if I want you to fuck me like you’d fuck a man?” She kisses behind Stella’s ear. “What if I said ‘please’?”
Something like a growl emanates from Stella only a moment before she effortlessly flips Reed over, inverting their positions. Barely giving Reed a second to reorient herself, Stella kisses her. It’s hungry at first, bordering on demanding, but relaxes into a slow, lusty exploration. Stella breaks the kiss, and she tugs Reed’s tank top up and over her head. As Reed shifts up to finish pulling the shirt off, Stella pulls back to get a fuller view and in order to regain her composure.
“Does that turn you on?” Reed asks as she’s still catching her breath.
“You have no idea.” Stella runs the palm of one hand over Reed’s abdomen and up to her breasts, ghosting over one nipple first, and then the other. She watches as they harden into dark peaks, and she smiles. She shifts her gaze up to Reed’s lidded eyes and, tucking her hair behind her ear, asks, “Do you want that? For me to fuck you like I’d fuck a man?”
“I’m certainly intrigued,” Reed replies, snaking her hands under Stella’s t-shirt to touch smooth skin and strong back.
Stella sits up, forcing Reed’s hands from her body. “You’d have to follow all my instructions.”
“Sounds hot, DSI Gibson,” Reed says with a sexy smirk, but Stella only gives her a pointed stare. Reed clears her throat. “I think you’d find that I’m very well-behaved.”
“All my instructions,” Stella repeats. “Spoken and unspoken, from beginning to end.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Next time I come to Belfast, you’re on.”
* * * *
Stella surprises Reed when she books a room at the Merchant for her first night in town; she usually stays at Reed’s. Then she receives a package from Stella containing her first set of instructions.
I’m flying in on Wednesday. Come to Bert’s at 11. Wear this. Don’t greet me. ~S
Reed blushes, nervous in a good way, as she pulls out a strap-on harness and dildo. What would it feel like to wear this under her jeans? She feels shy at the thought, even though she’s alone in her own home, but she also feels the twitch between her legs that tells her she wants this. She aches for Stella. She wants to meet Stella’s demands and see her take whatever pleasure she wants in whatever way she needs. A wetness appears and Reed has no idea how she’ll wait.
* * * *
Reed parks her bike and stows the helmet in a side compartment. She adjusts the bulge in her pants slightly, definitely turned on but also relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with a penis attached to her body in her everyday life. Inhaling deeply, Reed centers herself, focuses on the task at hand, and walks into Bert’s.
She avoids scanning the room and saunters up to the bar. She orders whiskey. It feels more masculine than her usual cocktail, and she needs something strong to calm her nerves. Unlikely but worth a shot. She remains at the bar, sipping her drink, and tries to busy her mind with other matters. Just as the possibility that Stella wouldn’t show begins to float through her brain, Reed sees a flash of blonde in her peripheral vision. Without thinking, she swivels on her stool, and there she is. Stella, walking in from the hotel lobby. She wears charcoal grey trousers that hit at the ankle, a pair of black heels, and a delicate blouse of light coral that brightens the blue-green of her eyes. Her hair hangs in loose waves, her lips look slightly berry-stained, but it’s the hint of décolletage that Reed struggles to tear her eyes from.
As Reed shifts and turns back toward the bar, the harness reminds her of its presence, sending a wave of sensation through her sex. Her pussy clenches and throbs, and Reed swears she feels her pants get tighter, even as she knows her erection is inanimate. For the first time, she understands that a strap-on is not just for the proverbial bottom, and it makes her feel sexier than ever. She exhales slowly, willing her heart rate to slow just a bit, and throws back the rest of her whiskey. She orders another.
Stella approaches the bar about four or five stools down from Reed and signals the bartender. When her drink arrives, she lingers for a minute or two, taking stock of the room. She lets herself take in Reed, in tight jeans, a snug black t-shirt, leather jacket, and boots. Her black hair is wound into a knot that lies at the nape of her neck. Her delicate fingers dance on her thigh—Reed’s singular nervous tell. Stella wants to bite.
But it’s too soon. She thinks, briefly, that planning this for the first night of her visit, after over two entire months without Reed’s physical proximity, could’ve been a bad idea. It’s not that she doesn’t want to play. She does. But how will she exert complete control when her desire feels so urgent? Stella notes a small table situated almost perfectly behind Reed’s perch at the bar and decides that’s where she should be. As she moves toward the table, she gives Reed a curious glance or two, and when they make eye contact for a fraction of a second, Stella raises an eyebrow in interest.
From her spot at the bar, Reed can feel Stella’s eyes on her. She wants to turn around but knows she needs to follow instructions—both spoken and unspoken. And so she waits. Individual minutes have never stretched out to this length, and Reed is surprised at how turned on she’s become from the anticipation. It’s maddening and delicious.
Then she’s there—Stella—at the bar again. This time only one stool separates the two women. As Stella waits for the bartender, she shoots appraising glances toward Reed. Reed’s stool turns ever-so-slightly in Stella’s direction, and they hold eye contact for the first time. Reed breaks first, taking a pull off her drink, but Stella continues drilling into her with her eyes.
“I’m Stella,” she says. Her tone is matter-of-fact, but her eyes carry a different meaning.
Reed regards her curiously. “Reed.” She nods a greeting. Their gazes rest on one another until the bartender finally makes it over.
“Make it a double this time, Joe. I think I’ll enjoy it in my room.” She watches Reed fidget out of the corner of her eye and smirks in pleasure.
“Here y’are, Ms. Gibson.” Joe slides her drink across the bar to her. “Shall I bill tonight’s drinks to the room?”
“Yes, that works fine. Thank you.” Stella turns toward Reed and stares openly at her until Reed shifts to face her. Just as Reed’s gaze meets her, Stella brings her glass to her lips and, never breaking eye contact, takes a slow sip. As she finishes, her tongue darts out to lick away a drop of whiskey at the rim, and Reed knows her desire is written all over her face. Stella gives her an understatedly suggestive smile and moves to leave. As she sweeps slowly past Reed, she lowers her voice and says, “I’m in 414.” And then she’s gone.
* * * *
Between closing her tab and attempting to use the loo with all her gear on, it’s almost twenty minutes later before Reed finds herself approaching Room 414. She knocks gently. Stella answers the door, still dressed but sans heels.
“I was beginning to think I’d read you wrong,” Stella says in lieu of a greeting, and she moves aside to let Reed enter. Her eyes wash over Reed from head to toe to ass to hips, sizing up her prey. The door clicks closed and Stella meets Reed in the middle of the room. “Let me take your jacket,” she drawls, moving behind Reed to help her shrug it off.
“Thanks,” Reed whispers, and she watches Stella’s every movement.
Stella stands in front of Reed. Her fingertips find the hem of Reed’s t-shirt and her lips find Reed’s mouth. They kiss tentatively, and when Stella feels Reed’s hands brush her own, she steps back. “No touching,” she commands. Reed’s hands fall to her sides. This command will be particularly difficult to obey. Her hands tend to gravitate toward her lover of their own accord, drawn by the specific heat of Stella’s specific skin.
Stella steps forward and finds the hem of Reed’s shirt again, and this time she lifts it up and off. She regards Reed’s black lace bra and runs her fingertips across the trim. Reed inhales at the contact, and Stella moves behind her. She undoes the clasp of Reed’s bra and pushes the straps off her shoulders. Stepping closer, Stella runs her hands down Reed’s back and leaves them resting on her hips. She leans in to nip and kiss at her neck and shoulders. Inhaling Reed’s scent at the base of her neck, she snakes her hands around to unbutton Reed’s jeans. Stella bites down on Reed’s shoulder—just enough to leave a faint mark—and pulls down the zipper. Reed moans almost inaudibly.
Stella reaches in and down to find Reed’s cock. She grasps it and pulls it out; the harness rubs against Reed and Stella hears a sharp intake of air. “Mmmm,” Stella murmurs as she strokes the dildo a few times, which Reed finds inexplicably sexy.
Stella slides her hands under the waistband of Reed’s jeans and pushes them down over her hips and ass. “Take these off,” she instructs.
As Reed obeys, Stella stalks her, watching intently. There are few things Stella finds sexier than a woman, completely nude but for her strap-on, who is about to fuck her. And there are zero women Stella finds sexier than Reed, who stands before her now, chest heaving, lust shading her smoky eyes.
“Come here,” Stella says, and brings Reed over to the small sofa in front of the window. She picks up her whiskey, takes a sip, and offers some to Reed. As Reed brings the glass to her lips, Stella’s eyes and hands go immediately to Reed’s breasts. Stella tests their weight, their size, their responsiveness. She dusts a thumb over a nipple, pinches the other gently, and hears Reed moan.
Reed’s sex is throbbing, and she’s sure she’s never been wetter—certainly not so wet with so little touching. She takes a swig and swallows it with a murmur before setting the glass down on the end table.
Stella takes her by the shoulders, turns Reed around, and pushes her down so she’s sitting on the sofa. She takes a step or two away from Reed, unfastens her trousers, and lets them drop to the floor. Reed sees a flash of black thong, which Stella leaves on.
And then Stella is straddling Reed, kissing her fully and hungrily, and Reed thinks she might explode. Reed’s hands seek out Stella’s skin instinctively, and they manage to find muscular thigh for the briefest of moments. Stella’s hands cover hers and push them off. She shifts forward on Reed’s lap and rises so that she’s hovering above Reed. With steady, intense eye contact, Stella reminds Reed that she’s in charge, and Reed bites her lower lip in apology.
Stella sits back a bit on Reed’s lap, spreading her legs and wearing a devilish smirk. Reed’s eyes dart down and lock onto Stella’s cunt, slick and swollen. Stella dips her fingers in and draws out some of her own wetness, which she uses to lubricate Reed’s cock. Then her eyes shoot up to Reed’s face as she reaches between Reed’s legs to feel her pleading sex.
Reed groans, and Stella plays in Reed’s soft, wet folds, stopping only to bring her natural lube to the toy. She does this for a few mind-spinning minutes, reveling in the warm satiny feeling of Reed and then pumping the toy with her hand. Stella thinks to herself that this is off-script; she hasn’t given a hand job since undergrad. But she notes her own desire become more insistent and complex with each little bit of Reed that comes unhinged under this treatment. She’s never been so turned on.
She pulls her hand away from Reed with only a little reluctance, and exhales, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy. She brings her hand back to her own sex and shoves aside the thin strip of fabric saturated with her desire. Reed licks her lip and watches as Stella moves forward, grasps the toy, and brings its tip into contact with her pussy. She sighs as she slides it through her folds a few times before slowly lowering herself onto it.
Reed watches in wonder as Stella’s eyes flutter closed and she rides Reed. At first, there’s no steady rhythm, just Stella letting her pleasure dictate how she moves. Her hips rock and sway. She puts her hands on Reed’s knees to brace herself so she can lean back and swivel her hips on, up, down, and around the toy. Her breathing grows erratic, her cheeks flush, and she pushes off of Reed’s knees. As she begins riding Reed in earnest, her hands on Reed’s shoulders, she crashes her lips into Reed. They’ve barely kissed. Stella makes up for it now. She’s moaning into Reed’s mouth as she kisses her in that bordering-on-sloppy way she does when she’s getting close.
Stella’s pace picks up speed and intensity, and Reed grasps at her hips, waist, back. Stella lets her touch now. She needs her touch now. She needs more of it. Reed’s merely following an unspoken instruction.
Stella unbuttons the first few buttons on her blouse, or at least she thinks she does, but it’s entirely possible that she tears them off. She bares one bra-covered breast. Reading her intention, Reed pulls the bra down, leans forward, and captures her nipple between her lips. Stella’s “Mmmhmmm” indicates her approval. Reed keeps her focus on Stella’s hips, her thrusts, and the noises she’s making; the mouth on Stella’s nipple is off-leash and unsupervised. The combination of a controlled rhythm in her cunt with the frenetic nipping, flicking, and sucking at her breast is nearly enough to push Stella over the edge.
She reaches down and slides her fingers over, through, and around her clit. When Reed notices, she groans her encouragement, which makes Stella shudder and tighten. Stella knows it won’t take long now. Nothing has ever felt so good, so indulgent, so new. There’s a tiny part of her still arguing for stretching it out, making it last, but the most delicate dance of fingers on her clit feels so fucking good and the need to orgasm wins out. Stella bucks wildly and Reed is using her own legs to meet her thrusts, punctuating them with words like “Oh my God, baby, yes;” “Come for me, Stella;” “You feel so goddamned good;” “I love fucking you;” and “Good girl.”
She comes out of nowhere, it seems to Reed, suddenly crying out. She’s loud, and she climaxes hard, shuddering and clenching and then soaring. Zero gravity. Blissful moment of nothing but feeling, nothing but body, nothing but good. Reed moves with Stella, taking her cues, helping her coax out every last second of this feeling. Reed thinks this is the most beautiful thing she’s ever shared with a partner. She thinks it every time Stella orgasms, and every time, it’s true.
Stella slumps over Reed, boneless, and Reed rues that she doesn’t have the strength to carry her to the bed and lay her down gently. Instead, she whispers sweet nothings and touches her back, her thighs, her ass lightly. After a minute or two, she stirs, murmuring something incoherently.
“Hmmm?” Reed inquires.
“I said,” Stella begins, her voice low and hoarse, “I’m still in charge.”
“I’m just waiting patiently for my next direction, love.” Stella can’t see Reed’s adoring smile. Reed can’t see Stella’s.
“God that was good.” Stella rises, moaning, and slowly lifts herself off Reed. “Mmm, so good.” She rolls off to the side and reclines back on the sofa, her body still tingling and shaky. Her blouse hangs off of one shoulder, and one side of her bra is still pulled down, exposing her breast. Her eyes are glassy and dark, yet somehow her hair is barely mussed. “You should take off that harness.”
Reed stands, faces Stella, unbuckles one side then the other, and loosens the straps just enough to let the weight of the dildo pull the harness to the floor. She steps out of it and nudges it aside with her foot, never breaking eye contact with Stella. Stella’s assessing predatory gaze is almost too much to bear.
“Take down your hair,” Stella commands. Reed obeys, reaching behind her and tugging at the elastic. Black locks fall in waves over her shoulders, and she looks so perfect that Stella’s heart clenches. “Go lay down on the bed. On your back.” Stella sits up slowly so she can watch Reed move. She stands, limbs heavy with sated muscles. She pulls her own blouse off and lets it fall to the floor. Her bra and thong follow. As she tucks her hair behind her ears, she catches Reed’s scent off her fingers, and that’s all it takes for her desire to spark again.
She joins Reed on the bed, propping herself on an elbow so she can scan her skin with hands and eyes, taking in the rise of her belly, the curve of her hip. Stella has never known a lover’s body the way she knows Reed’s peaks and valleys and hollows, and yet, somehow, they’re a new discovery every time.
“I’m still in charge,” Stella repeats, “But I’m no longer going to be fucking you like I fuck men. Spread your legs.” Reed does as she’s told and two of Stella’s fingers are immediately inside her. “Oh, honey,” she murmurs, “Are you close?”
“Like you can’t tell,” Reed all but chokes out, her back arching both answer and request. “When you came, I thought I was done for.” Her hips press into Stella’s hand, and Stella’s fingers begin moving. They moan in unison.
“You are so beautiful,” Stella whispers before dipping her head down and kissing Reed’s neck, shoulder, breast. She’s always a little sentimental after she’s had an orgasm, and right now Reed thinks she sees a glisten of tears in Stella’s eyes. Stella doesn’t wait to add a third finger, because she can feel how ready Reed is and Stella’s not interested in drawing this out any further. She craves Reed’s orgasm. She needs it almost as much as Reed does. “And you have been such a good girl following instructions,” she says seductively as she pushes herself up and swings one leg over Reed’s thigh, her fingers never leaving Reed’s pulsing cunt. “I love it when you’re this wound up.”
“We’ll have to turn the tables some day to see how you fare,” Reed practically groans as Stella’s fingers begin moving again, deep inside.
“I’m not opposed to that.” They smile at each other conspiratorially.
Stella crawls backward and down Reed’s body, settling between her legs. Reed grabs an extra pillow and wedges it under her sacrum. Stella thrusts in and out of Reed a few times before pushing her fingers deep, deeper, as deep as she can. Then she stills her hand and feels Reed swell to envelope her. Reed elicits a long, low, pleading moan.
Stella’s descends and uses her nose, mouth, and chin to nuzzle into Reed’s pussy. She’s gone down on women before, but she’s never performed oral sex as ferociously as she does on Reed. It makes her feel like an untamed animal, and she delights in it. She relishes in Reed’s arousal, its richness; she loves the way her face gets messy with Reed’s cum. She loves being right there, at the center of it all, all of her senses working together to follow the lead of Reed’s body, interpreting and responding to its spasms and noises.
As Stella’s tongue runs the length of Reed’s sex, Reed is already in another world. Stella wants to keep her there. She deserves this pleasure and so much more. She laps at Reed’s pussy with her tongue then focuses more precisely on her clit, first flicking it then sucking it between her lips. She feels Reed begin to contract, her walls reacting of their own accord to push Reed toward her climax.
“Oh God, oh yeah, oh my God yeah.” This is one of Stella’s favorite parts—the way Reed starts talking when she’s right up at the edge. She hums her excitement from between Reed’s legs. “Mmmhmm, that’s right, Stella. Uh-huh. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, baby, I’m coming…”
And she’s gone. Stella fucks her the way she likes it best, curled fingers on the out thrusts then straining, reaching deeper on the down thrusts, matching the rhythm that Reed’s hips set. She comes hard and fast and greedy, grasping at Stella’s shoulders when she quakes forward. Reed pulls Stella’s head away, her clit too sensitive for continued contact, but Stella watches her expression, sees her nod her head, and knows to keep fucking her. “Faster, Stell,” she urges, “Harder,” and now it’s Stella’s turn to obey. Her arm is beginning to ache and her wrist is sore, but Stella barely registers the pain. Reed’s pleasure is all that exists.
Less than a minute of furious fucking later, Reed’s face freezes in ecstasy as her pussy clenches around Stella so tightly she can barely move. Reed cries out; it comes from somewhere else, echoing out into here and now. As Reed’s internal orgasm ripples, Stella slows her fingers and gently massages Reed’s g-spot until she touches Stella’s hand to still her.
When Reed lets herself fall backward, all her limbs dead weight, Stella slowly pulls out of Reed and covers her sex with her hand protectively. She lies down next to her and drops soft whisper-filled kisses over Reed’s stomach, her shoulder, her neck, her breasts.
“That was fucking incredible,” Reed says slowly, languidly, finally opening her eyes and looking at Stella.
“And incredible fucking,” Stella adds. They smile lazily at one another.
Reed reaches up to brush her fingertips over Stella’s cheek and urges her lips to meet Reed’s own. They kiss softly and Reed shifts onto her side. They lie there, holding each other and kissing, their legs intertwined and their arms around each other. Their lips and tongues move so comfortably together; it’s slow, sweet, relaxing, and safe. Neither wants to break the kiss, but Stella feels Reed shiver. They scramble under the covers and Reed moves to spoon Stella, pulling her back toward her chest to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.
“Hi,” Reed whispers. “I missed you.” She presses her face into Stella’s hair and inhales deeply.
Stella nestles her body back into Reed, thinking she could climb inside her lover’s skin and still not feel close enough.
“I missed you, too,” Stella replies. “When I first saw you in the bar, I almost scrapped this whole game. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to draw it out.” Stella turns her upper body slightly to approximate looking at Reed. “But I’m really, really glad I did.”
“Me, too.” Reed grins. “This was…” She trails off, searching for the right words, her brain is still hazy from her orgasm. “Just wow. So good. So hot. You are so hot.”
Stella laughs. “That’s what all the boys say, too,” she teases. “I was more nervous than I thought I’d be.”
“Me too. Clearly, I got over it.”
“But speaking of hot—you wearing that strap-on? Holy God, woman.”
“Um, what about you riding that strap-on?” Reed makes a grunt-like noise and thrusts her hips into Stella’s ass to indicate her approval.
“Yeah? You liked that part?” She seems a bit bashful.
“I liked all the parts, Stella.” Reed pushes up on her elbow and kisses Stella’s temple reassuringly. “All the parts,” she repeats. She runs her free hand from Stella’s hair to her neck to her shoulder, waist, thighs, hips. She reaches around Stella’s waist and pulls her closer. “You’re perfect,” she whispers.
Stella turns and kisses her. It’s light and lingering, laden with emotion. They drift into a half-sleep in one another’s arms, so sated and relaxed it’s unavoidable.
* * * *
When Stella opens her eyes again, it’s almost five o’clock. The lights are still on and she has to pee, so she gets out of bed and pads to the bathroom. She notices the stale whiskey, the strap-on, their clothes strewn around the room, and she smiles at memories only a few hours old. She’s exhausted, but the image of Reed topless, jeans open, harness straps peeking out sends a jolt straight through Stella’s sex. They have this room for another six hours, she thinks as she hits the lights and slips back into bed.
Reed rolls onto her back and the sheet falls from her shoulders. Ambient light filtering in from the city washes over her caramel skin, adds tints of blue to her hair, and Stella feels herself wake up. She leans in and rouses Reed with light kisses and whispers of appreciation.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Stella tells her when she opens her eyes. It’s what she always says when it’s the middle of the night, a way of both seeking consent and communicating that she’s willing to do all the work. Reed answers with a sleepy moan and a lick of her lips that tells Stella she can keep going.
Stella brushes her fingertips over one of Reed’s nipples and then the other. Reed’s hips sink slightly into the mattress, and she makes a small noise of pleasure when she feels the warm wetness of Stella’s tongue teasing at her breast. Stella rolls one of Reed’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger while she sucks the other into her mouth. Reed’s back arches and her hips begin to squirm.
Barely awake, Reed watches Stella attend to her breasts with such care she thinks her heart might burst from her chest. It’s as though Stella is writing poetry, as though she’s become a bard whose only song is Reed.
In the small hours, Stella talks more. She tells Reed what she wants to do, asks if she’s okay, if it feels good. She tells her how much she loves her body, how beautiful and sexy and miraculous she is. She tells her that no one has ever made her feel the way that Reed does.
“Can I touch you?” Stella asks, dropping a kiss at the corner of Reed’s mouth.
“Yes,” Reed practically hisses. And then she’s sighing at the contact, at the first few tentative sweeps of Stella’s fingers.
When Reed is about to come, Stella straddles one of her legs. She slides a third finger in and hooks her thumb over Reed’s clit. She’s about to bear down onto Reed’s thigh when Reed snakes a searching hand between Stella’s legs. Stella moans.
“Mmmm, honey,” Reed murmurs. “So soft.”
They shift positions until they find something that works, and then they’re inside each other. Their eyes lock. Reed starts rocking her hips first, slowly finding her rhythm. Stella pays attention and matches her pace.
They move into one another, their bodies closer, their fingers deeper. Together, they climb, steady and strong. There’s not the urgency of their earlier lovemaking. Here, they take their time. Here, there is only the embodiment of their love. It is caring and kind and supportive. It is patient and sexy and silly. It knows without needing to be told. Here, taking pleasure and giving pleasure meld into one another, an alloy made stronger by twin fragilities.
By the time they climax—Stella mere seconds after Reed—their foreheads are pressed together and their fucking has become frantic. They’re grunting and sticky with sweat, and the headboard knocks against the wall. Reed howls her pleasure; Stella shudders, tightens, and comes. They’re a mess of tangled limbs and mussed hair and incoherent words. As they begin to come down, their hands slow and their lips meet, and neither of them knows anything except for this moment.
It’s this that keeps them coming back to one another. It’s this that keeps either of them from looking for anyone else. Yes, it’s an escape from the horrible things they see and know, but more than that, it’s the purest manifestation of what they share. It’s private and sensory, tactile and full of passion, but it’s the same feeling as when Reed reaches for Stella’s hand or when Stella tells Reed to take a bath instead of doing the dishes. Permissive. Encouraging. Solace.
As they nestle down into the bed, their breathing still heavy, Reed pulls Stella to her. The sky is getting light outside, and Reed is glad she had the foresight to take the day off. Stella rests her head on Reed’s chest and inhales her scent.
“I love you, you know,” Stella says, tilting her face up to look at Reed. “I’m in love with you.”
A wide smile spreads across Reed’s face. “I know.” They kiss sweetly. “I’m in love with you, too.” It’s not the first time they’ve said it, but they don’t say it often. At least, not after the sun’s begun to rise.
“I don’t want to live apart anymore.” Stella’s voice is barely above a whisper, and she feels so whole she thinks she might cry.
“Baby, you know I can’t leave Belfast.” Reed’s tone is gentle.
“But I can move here.” It just slips out, but as soon as she says it, Stella knows it’s what she wants.
Reed feels a pang of hope but tempers it, asking, “What about work?”
“I’ve been thinking of leaving the Met.” This is new. A truth she’s spoken to no one.
“Really? For how long?” Reed asks, curiosity sneaking through exhaustion.
“Off and on since Spector.”
Reed has so many questions, but she can’t begin to formulate them. It’s like the verbs won’t conjugate and her brain is on strike. “Let’s talk about this more after some sleep, okay?”