by Alcy » Thu Oct 12, 2006 3:16 pm
Chapter 10 – “Private Dancer.”
My muscles are tense and I’m poised, a split second away from throwing myself out of the window and running down that leather coated bastard. I can see it all clearly playing out in my mind, me placing one hand on the windowsill and throwing both legs over…brutally ignoring Willow’ pleas for me to stop. I drop to the ground as a bird of prey stalking a rodent. He turns just as I hit the ground and immediately starts running, leather coat billowing behind him. He’s not fast enough and I catch him. I wrestle him to the ground and scrape the skin from my bare forearms in the process but I couldn’t care less. He’s in my grasp and I lay into him with my fists. I tell myself I’m softening him up before I ask the questions but really I just want to smash the crap out of him. When he’s dazed and bleeding, then I’ll ask him what the fuck he has to do with all of this business. My mind will process his answers, I’ll decide if he’s letting the truth and whether he needs more ‘softening’ up. However, the whole scenario is just a thought and a small hand resting on my shoulder snaps me out of it. It’s Willow, somehow knowing exactly what I’m thinking and she just shakes her head slowly. I turn away from her, not an easy thing to do, and see that the fucker has disappeared already.
Lucky for him…
I turn back to the redhead and sigh in defeat…she’s going to make me go soft.
Later, when the carnage is cleared and we’ve done what we can for our wounded, me included, she leads me back to her room. I follow unquestioningly…and as I stare at her lovely arse I’m having an inkling that being soft is going to be fucking fantastic.
******
Willow’s fingers closed on the door to her room. She paused briefly before she turned the handle and swung it open, ushering Tara in before her. The reason for her hesitation was made apparent when she and Tara stood awkwardly in the middle of what was obviously her own personal sanctuary. For just a moment, she felt as though Tara were an intruder. However, when Tara turned and delivered one of her trademark smiles, the moment passed and she belonged.
Tara did indeed feel as though she stood out like a sore thumb against Willow’s scholarly abode. Books were crammed into almost every available space in the moderately sized room, along with a solid wood writing desk that looked as though it has been sourced from the hotel manager’s office in the Golden Palace’s heyday. A bed was squeezed in almost as an afterthought. It was too large for the space it occupied and the end extended out past Willow’s wardrobe. The wardrobe therefore had no door and Tara could see a neat row of what was obviously dancing costumes hanging in the space. She was confronted by an array of sequins and tassels in various bright colours. She turned back to face Willow and one side of her lip curled up into a small smile.
“I know what not to get you for your birthday,” Tara commented dryly, “Books.’
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Willow retorted immediately, feeling the immense weight that had been bearing down on her shoulders lift somewhat as a result of Tara’s unexpected joviality, “Although the street is an efficient teacher, I prefer the freedom and solitude of books...you’re not forced to learn like you are on the street.”
Although Willow’s words were world-weary, she tried to keep her tone as light as Tara’s. She knew the blonde needed no reminder of what had just happened. Willow was pleased to see a twinkle remain in Tara’s eyes.
“Solitude?’ Tara arched an eyebrow, “Because I can go and leave you to your books if you’d like, I know where I don’t belong.”
Willow surprised herself by gliding across the floor to stand in front of Tara without a moment’s hesitation.
Tara had to admit that she had never known anyone to move as gracefully in jeans and Converse sneakers as Willow. She remained still as the redhead slipped a pair of thin arms around her waist and fitted their bodies together like two pieces of a puzzle. Her own arms then snaked around Willow and she squeezed tightly. The movement brought a sudden stab of pain from the bullet wound in her arm which she stubbornly ignored…it was little more than a graze anyway.
Willow tilted her head upwards until she was gazing up into Tara’s eyes. She trued to keep the rapt adoration from creeping in such close proximity to the woman of her dreams. What she definitely could not do, was resist the urge to place her hands around Tara’s neck and pull her close enough for their lips to touch. The sensitive skin had barely met before they both surged forward with a pent up intensity that didn’t allow any space for breathing. As Willow met Tara’s tongue in a fierce thrust she tasted the residue of battle, metallic and tangy. Even as Tara’s hands travelled down her body to hold her hips firmly, hesitation returned.
Tara immediately sensed Willow’s reluctance and drew back smoothly, a slight furrow to her gorgeous brow.
“Too fast,” Tara immediately came to a conclusion, “Will, I’m sorry…”
Willow silenced Tara with a brief but passionately angry kiss, she drew back with a determined expression on her face.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry Tara Maclay…or I’ll begin to think you don’t want me badly enough,” Willow kept her face serious as she reached down to boldly cup Tara’s sex and received an immediate reaction when Tara’s breath caught and she thrust her hips forward insistently. A small smile played across Willow’s face when she withdrew her hand and Tara’s eyes opened slowly, she whispered in the blonde’s ear, “Which would be nothing short of a lie.”
“Lying doesn’t trouble me in the slightest,” Tara breathed, the apex of her thighs the source of a fierce, insatiable heat, “Hurting you does.”
Although even as the words left her lips Tara knew full well that Willow was not an innocent for all her girlish looks. It was about time she realised this, especially after seeing her perform on stage.
“I look like shit,” Willow whispered, “And you really look like shit…I’m sorry but I’m worried that I’m not put off by the thought of fucking you covered in grime and blood.”
Tara’s eyebrows almost shot off her forehead at Willow’s casual tone and the decidedly evil glint in her eyes. She was also worried by the first thought that passed through her own mind…she didn’t care about the blood and grime either. It would be so easy to manoeuvre Willow to the narrow bed, Tara knew she wouldn’t mind, and fight the clothes from her body.
“A shower then,” Tara suggested gruffly, struggling to keep the desire from taking hold of her voice.
“My thoughts exactly,” Willow replied, a little too promptly for good manners.
******
I’m standing, my feet are freezing to the bathroom tiles but the goosebumps all over my naked body have nothing to do with the cold. I can barely hear the cascading water in the shower. While I stripped my own clothes off as fast as humanly possible in order to avoid having second thoughts, she’s waiting for me to remove hers as well. The thought of it has my knees quivering and my lips parted in anticipation. Her sweater and t-shirt are stripped off over her head as she lifts her arms for me. Her head emerges from beneath the layers of clothing, hair askew about her face and there’s a hint of a nervous smile on her lips. I try to act nonchalant as my hands rove down her body over her naked waist as I crouch before her. Squatting at her feet I remove her shoes, she steadies herself with one small hand on my shoulder. Converses tossed aside, my attention is directed towards her jeans and removing the remaining barriers between my skin and hers. The buttons pop one by one beneath my fingers, all the while I keep my gaze fixed on hers. I can see she’s nervous as hell. Most people would find that strange considering she strips near naked almost every night in a room full of strangers but I know what we’re doing right now is so fucking different it should be taking place in other universe. I slide the jeans down over her arse, feeling the silk smooth skin of her legs as I continue downwards. They’re tossed aside like the shoes and I’m standing again, my arms securely around her waist. I caress the skin on her back as my lips pick out a trail across her shoulder to the curve of her neck. I try not to rush but before I know it my hands find her bra clasp and the garment is off and on the floor. Her tits are right in front of me and I exhale slowly. I don’t want to touch them but at the same time both my hands are on those tender mounds of flesh, squeezing and caressing to reassure myself that they’re really there and she’s given then to me. I’m leaning down to stuff one in my mouth while at the same time my fingers are yanking down the last piece of clothing on her body. Her knickers slide from her body and she’s buck naked in my arms. I have to stop eating her tits for a moment, just so I can step back and get a full eyeful. Her arms are a little awkward at her sides but she’s still poised like a dancer, lithe and sexy as hell. Her small tits thrust out towards me, still red and moist from my earlier ministrations. My eyes travel downwards to bury my gaze at the apex of her legs and the strawberry coloured mound of pubic hair that nestles there. She’s so fucking gorgeous. Some part of me tries to say her name but I’m having trouble breathing let alone speaking. My vision starts to go black around the edges and I smile. Since when has Tara Maclay ever fainted at the sight of a naked woman?
“Tara?” a small, insistent voice broke through Tara’s haze, “Are you okay?”
Tara blinked once and her eyes focused on Willow’s rather worried expression. She had to shake her head, not quite deciding whether the shake was to completely do away with the fluff in her head or reassure herself that this was not merely a good dream. She nodded rather clumsily in reply to Willow’s question.
In response, Willow sighed as though Tara were some sort of playful torment. She placed one hand on Tara’s chest and gave her a gentle shove back towards the shower box, following her close as she stumbled beneath the stream of water.
Tara stood beneath the water, feeling its warmth flow down over her naked body. It stung the wound in her arm fiercely but she stoically ignored it, instead concentrating on the naked woman standing not a foot away from her. Willow’s wet hair was plastered to her head, giving her the appearance of a wet kitten. Tara reached down to pluck a wayward strand from the young woman’s eye.
Willow’s eyes roamed over Tara’s body, picking out the numerous scars and unhealed wounds. Her hands went to the heavily taped wound in her side, tracing it gently and wondering how Tara managed to keep walking, let alone display the spectacular power she had against the cops.
It was an inhuman effort to keep her eyes from devouring every inch of her body…and licking her lips as she did so. Instead she managed to assume the nonchalant air of one who had seen it all before.
She simply stated, “You’re filthy.”
Tara didn’t reply, she couldn’t. If Willow could pretend she wasn’t standing breast to naked breast with the woman of her dreams, Tara most definitely couldn’t.
As Willow soaped her body, washing away the accumulated blood and filth, Tara watched and felt her hands keenly. Every touch, every movement to the point where it became impossible to control her urges any longer. The fact that she hadn’t been laid for over eight years meant that her body was practically screaming at her with a very need for contact. She was scared at her own urge to grab Willow and throw her bodily against the tiles of the shower wall behind her. Her eyes slid closed and her fingers clenched into fists at her side in a vain effort to keep herself under control.
As I stand in that shower like a fuckin’ plank of wood, I know she wants it as badly as I do…she wants me to thrust her back against the shower and fuck her brains out…but I can’t use her like that, now matter how she feels…fuck me for having a conscience.
With that thought, Tara felt nimble fingers move over her nipples and a sharp tug in her groin that was almost painful. She realised Willow had lost the soapy sponge and was now working over her breasts with skilful and practised hands. Already weak at the knees, Tara gritted her teeth in the face of touches that were definitely not those of a kid.
Of their own accord, her fingers unclenched at her side and a she half growled, half sighed low in her throat as if in defeat. She then moved even faster than she had fighting the cops, sweeping Willow up off her feet with two firm hands under her butt cheeks, spreading her legs in the process. Despite Tara’s ferocity, Willow not only responded to the kiss with just as much passion, her legs wrapped around Tara’s back and squeezed as though she was expecting to have to hold on for a wild ride.
As the water beat down on Tara’s naked back, she thrust her body hard against Willow’s. So firmly they were pressed together, the skin of the two women melded together as one. No movement was possible save for tongues thrust deep in each other’s throats and Willow’s hands moving across Tara’s back. Both felt the thud of the other’s heart through the skin of their chests.
Willow ripped her head away from Tara’s and one hand reached up to grab Tara by the hair. She yanked Tara’s ear closer to her mouth.
“I want you to fuck my brains out,” Willow hissed in Tara’s ear before biting savagely down on her earlobe, teeth sinking into flesh.
There’s something in her words that brings me back to my senses and without any warning I yank away from her. She’s staring at me in confusion with those big green eyes and I know she’s wondering what the fuck I’m on and what sort of game I’m playing, whether I want her or whether I don’t know what the fuck I want.
I know I should speak before she gets the wrong idea, tell her I want her so bad it hurts...and I do, I want her, but not like this. It’s too brutal and she deserves more of me, not just the sex starved ex-con who would take her in a heartbeat to satisfy her own lust. I’m not fast enough, and something akin to anguish passes over her features just before she throws herself out of the shower. I hear myself calling out for her to stop and it’s only when she’s well and truly gone that I reflect on the absurdity of Tara MacLay pleading with a woman to come back to her.
Tara was left standing in the shower, the water beating down on her naked back suddenly seeming cold in the aftermath of her own folly She stood watching the water run down her naked legs to swirl at her feet and lost herself in the constant motion. Her head turned slightly and she met her own accusing, blurry gaze in the badly fogged mirror. The distorted face that stared back at her was partly a result of the mirror and partly her own features twisted into an anguished scowl. She had to fight the urge to leap out of the shower and smash her fist into that face. Instead she pounded her knuckles against the tiles in front of her repeatedly until they were purpled and the skin close to breaking.
“Fuck you Tara Maclay,” she whispered, “You’re a goddamn fool.”
With an angry wrench, Tara shut off the flow of water and emerged from the shower. She wrapped one of the available towels around her body, tucking it firmly between her breasts.
She returned to Willow’s room full of determination to find that the redhead was not there. While she seriously contemplated tearing the hotel apart searching for her, she heard the door she had left open, close behind her. Tara spun on her bare feet and found Willow without any effort. At that point in time she didn’t give a damn about her pride, she was prepared to fall to her knees and beg profusely for Willow to forgive her mixed signals.
Willow didn’t give Tara the chance to even open her mouth. She took a determined stride forward and planted both hands on Tara’s chest to give her a violent shove backwards. Taken by surprise and unbalanced, Tara stumbled backwards until her movement was halted by a desk chair into which she fell awkwardly. Clad in only a plain white towel with her dripping hair falling limply about her face, Tara watched Willow with an expression of bewilderment and a feeling of complete helplessness. If Willow wanted to tie her into the chair and beat her to a pulp, she’d have taken every blow.
However, the only blow that followed was one to her senses.
Willow turned her back to Tara, her posture defiant. With one deft tug she pulled the ties that held her bathrobe closed and let the flimsy satin garment fall from her slim shoulders to pool like water at her feet. The blow packed more of a punch that any number of physical strikes. Tara’s eyes were assaulted with the sight of Willow’s creamy white skin. Tara’s eyes automatically trailed down her back, moving down to her arse and the backs of her thighs before straight back to her arse again. The complete picture was broken only by the scanty black lace of Willow’s bra across her back and the g-string nestled on her hips. Tara barely managed to stay upright on the chair
Willow spun on her heels, her body twisting in a simple movement that was undeniably sexual. Her hips undulated in a slow arc as she moved her arse in a slow, seductive sway while she turned. The scene unfurled in slow motion before Tara’s eyes until she was struck again. Although this time it was the sight of Willow standing facing her with a smoldering green-eyed gaze that left no mystery as to what less than pure thoughts were running through her mind. Her gleaming wet red hair lay motionless about her shoulders and down over her chest. Willow smiled secretively before tossing her head and sending her hair cascading around her in a fiery arc. The movement flowed from her head to the rest of her body as she tossed it about in a series of graceful twirls across the rooms short length.
Tara watched the redhead’s limbs moved, transfixed by the simple grace she displayed. There was nothing flamboyant or technical to Willow’s movements, she simply moved as though she were aware of every inch of her body. As though she knew the effect that each movement would have on her audience…in this case, her audience of one.
Having watched Willow perform at Kitty’s more than once, Tara immediately realised that this show was something altogether different. It was raw, intimate and revealing. Literally so when Willow’s right hand drifted to the clasp at her back and with a quick movement, she cast the black bra aside. It was as though Tara were seeing Willow’s breasts for the first time, despite having been pressed fiercely against them just minutes earlier in the shower. She watched the perfect shapes move towards her as Willow advanced. She was tantalisingly close, and yet it seemed to take an eternity for her to come close enough for Tara to touch her. When she was finally within reach, Tara did not move a muscle towards her. She knew that Willow would allow touching on her own terms.
This seemed to be foremost on Willow’s mind as she moved in front of Tara, each movement taking her within scant distance of Tara’s body yet keeping a huge chasm between them. Placing her hairs on either side of the chair, Willow lent in close until her breasts were right up in Tara’s face.
“I’m feeling a bit warm,” Willow purred in Tara’s ear, “I think I have too many clothes on.”
Tara’s eyes moved down to the g-string Willow was wearing which was hugging her undulating hips and barely concealing her sex. However, Tara viewed that tiny piece of fabric as she would the heaviest coat, completely concealing despite that fact that almost all of Willow’s body was laid bare.
“You want me to help you with that?” Tara asked, unashamed at how uncertain and youthful her own voice sounded.
“Fuck yes,” Willow breathed, sliding her hips a little further towards Tara’s body.
Tara reached up with trembling hands and hooked both her thumbs beneath opposite sides of the stringy garment. With a delicate tug, she began to slide it downwards, over the creamy skin of Willow’s arse. The fabric covering her sex moved down, revealing the perfect red curls that nestled there. Tara continued sliding her hands down over Willow’s skin, her thighs, all the while her head moving closer to Willow’s sex, so close that she could smell the strong, intoxicating aroma that made her own loins clench out of sheer need.
When Tara had the g-string at Willow’s knee, Willow stepped out of it herself. The fabric was flicked away on the end of her toe and quickly forgotten. Willow saw the hungry look in Tara’s eyes and smirked, whipping her sex away from the reach of Tara’s tongue which had been licking her lips in anticipation.
She moved her completely naked body in a slow dance, far enough away from Tara to give her room to move each limb to its fullest extent. With each new movement, Willow opened herself further to Tara’s gaze, leaving nothing to the imagination, and nothing concealed. Her hands roamed over every inch of her body, she cupped her own breasts and teased the nipples as if they weren’t already budded and rose red. Firm hands moved down over her stomach and to the apex of her thighs where she pressed the flat of her palm hard against her sex as though concealing it once more. However, she slid her fingers apart and with them, the folds of her mound. All the while she kept her eyes tightly locked with Tara’s, her gaze as intimate as her movements.
The dance was so intimate that Tara felt as though her hands were already on Willow’s body even though they were in actual fact clenched into fists as they rested on her thighs. Her breath was hot in her own ears to the point where she was sure she was panting with barely concealed desire. Willow’s dance was the stuff of torture for someone who had been without intimate sexual contact for eight years. So as Willow moved closer, Tara once again unconsciously licked her lips.
Willow turned, displaying her completely bare arse blatantly. She backed up to the point where she was practically sitting on Tara’s lap, her legs forcing Tara’s apart. She then bucked her hips, moving further downwards until her bare flesh was rubbing against the towel that barely covered Tara’s own skin. In fact, it began to bunch up significantly until her thighs were completely bare.
Tara growled as Willow’s arse began to move between her thighs and her hips instinctively moved until she was grinding her sex against the smooth white flesh. She had to fight to keep her hands from reaching out to grab Willow’s waist and pull her down firmly into her lap.
“Touch me,” Willow commanded in a whisper.
Tara didn’t need to be asked twice, her hands moved to carry out exactly what she had been dwelling on her mind, She drew Willow downwards as she bucked her hips insistently. With Willow firmly in her lap, Tara’s hands roved up over her taut stomach muscles, feeling the smooth skin slide beneath her fingers before their tips touched her breasts. They closed eagerly over the firm mounds and squeezed, gently at first, then more insistently as Willow increased the pace of her hips moving against Tara’s body.
Willow twisted her neck around until her mouth was pointing in the direction of Tara’s, the ex-cops breath felt hot and fast on her cheek just seconds before she claimed her lips once again in another searing kiss. The awkwardness of their positions did not hamper the intensity of the kiss. Willow brought her hand up to clutch at Tara’s cheek, feeling it sweaty beneath her touch.
Somehow, at some stage during the kiss, Willow managed to swing her leg over Tara’s head as she swiveled to face Tara. They broke their kiss and their eyes met for brief moments, blue melting into green. The look ended when their lips magnetically closed together once more. Willow cupped Tara’s cheeks with both her hands, exerting her own kind of dominance over the older woman. It was her hands that moved to the towel tucked securely between Tara’s breasts and savagely yanked it open. The offending piece of white cloth was tossed aside and the blonde was naked beneath her bucking body. A smile crossed Willow’s face at the sight of Tara’s breasts heaving beneath her.
Tara hands cupped Willow’s arse firmly as she moved on her lap. Their kiss continued and did not break even when Tara moved one hand to where Willow’s thighs met, grasping urgently for her downy mound. She cupped it fiercely and Willow responded by bucking faster, a growl sounding from her throat that might have been a word. Tara didn’t wait for any further words as she gently but firmly slide two fingers upwards into Willow’s already moist passage. Willow’s response was to grind her hips forward and bite down savagely on Tara’s upper lip, catching it with her teeth.
As Willow ride Tara’s pumping fingers, she eventually broke the kiss, her head tilting backwards so her unseeing eyes stared up at the patchy ceiling above her. Although she was acutely aware of Tara’s fingers moving deeply inside of her, what consumed her thoughts was the fact that the moment she had dreamt about since Tara had purchased her freedom so violently eight years ago was finally becoming a reality. She felt hot tears burning at the corner of her eyes, they were streaming down her cheeks by the time she lowered her gaze to look Tara in the eye once more.
Seeing the tears, Tara did not stop as she might have done in the past. She knew exactly what they were for and had she not been so intently focused on the feel of her fingers in Willow’s hot cunt, she might have found the will to cry her own. Instead she pressed her cheek against Willow’s heaving chest and managed to croak out a few words that distinctly sounded like, ‘I love you,’ although even Tara couldn’t been sure.
Just as Willow was beginning to make soft moans, Tara stopped her thrusts and gently withdrew her fingers. Before Willow had time to protest, she rose from the chair, lifting Willow along with barely a grunt of effort. Tara laid her roughly on the narrow bed before standing back slightly to admire the sight she had just created.
Willow bucked her hips insistently, feeling lost without the touch of Tara’s skin, not to mention cheated out of a release she desperately wanted, “Stop fucking me with your eyes and get down here!”
Tara responded to Willow’s command by throwing herself down, none too gently and biting her on the ear lobe. Willow yelped once and then once more seconds later as Tara had swiftly moved down her body to lower her face between Willow’s legs. She yelped at the darting touch of Tara’s tongue against her engorged clit. Although the second touch was a long, languid stroke that left her squirming and craving more. Tara was eager to oblige, lavishing attention on her clit in an exploratory, teasing manner as she became accustomed to Willow’s body and tested out the tricks that really made her squirm. Tara found the spot and the speed easily following a particularly vocal cry of assent from Willow and she settled to it with all the determination and perseverance she possessed.
Willow tried to prop herself up on her elbows as she discovered she loved the sight of Tara working between her legs but that lasted all of a minute before her head was thrown back against the pillow behind her as she tossed about uncontrollably. Tara’s tongue was driving her to the brink, easily threatening to push her right over the edge but with the skill to prolong release and take her beyond without falling off completely. Her hands clutched for something to grasp and she settled for fistfuls of Tara’s hair. If she was hurting the blonde, it did not slow her down at all. If anything, her movements became more intense and focused. She knew exactly what Willow needed and her release followed moments later in a rushing crescendo of guttural moans and profanities that Willow would not remember even uttering afterwards,
Willow’s hips jerked upwards several times with release before they settled back against the covers with the rest of her sweat soaked body. As Tara continued to stroke her stomach and thighs with tender fingers, she was all too aware of her throbbing cunt and the spread of wetness that chaffed against the back of her thighs.
As she lay on her back staring through half lidded eyes at the ceiling, she had visions of leaping upright and throwing Tara backwards where she would commence fucking her with the same intensity she had just received. However, as Tara’s mouth trailed kisses up her body while she came to lay alongside Willow, those thoughts were replaced by a lazy picture of the two of them spending time stroking and exploring each others bodies. Tara nestled against Willow, folding the smaller woman into the protective shelter of her arms.
They lay in silence for a few moments before Willow opened her mouth to speak. It was only then that she realised Tara’s soft and regular breathing indicated that she was asleep. She twisted her neck slightly to watch the blonde’s face, discovering that when she slept she appeared at peace with the world in direct contrast to her waking state. Willow reached out with her fingers and brushed back a strand of wet hair, tucking it behind Tara’s ear so she could study her face. So when she drifted off moments later, her dreams were filled with visions of a relaxed and happy Tara…in the midst of even more fucking.
******
Tara woke in darkness, instinctively knowing that the lump tucked beneath her arm was Willow. A small smile crossed her face as she contemplated remaining exactly where she was. The pleasant fuzz that clouded her brain brought a small smile to her face which broadened when she reached out to stroke Willow’s naked flank. The redhead purred in her sleep, nestling closer to Tara.
As her eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds, Tara stared at Willow’s face. In the milky light her skin was a translucent marble. Tara reached out to stroke it with the tips of her fingers, finding it warm and smooth. As she lay tracing Willow’s delicate features, her fears assaulted the edge of her pleasant fuzz. They gradually eroded the abnormal feeling until Tara was left in her usual state of mind, alert, wary and edgy. These feelings were amplified tenfold by Willow’s presence.
All too aware of he nakedness, Tara mentally berated herself for leaving her Berettas on the floor of the bathroom like a dirty pair of underwear. She managed to extract herself away from Willow’s body without waking the redhead. It was only when her weight left the bed that she stirred half awake.
“Where are you going?” Willow whispered in a sleepy voice, her eyelids remaining closed.
Tara reached out to brush a clump of Willow’s hair away from her forehead, “I’ll be right back.”
This seemed to satisfy Willow in her sleepy state and she smiled, reaching out to touch the hand that lay on her breast, “Hurry back to me.”
“I will,” Tara whispered, although she stopped short of saying, I promise, as the few words out of her mouth had already contained more than enough lies.
******
Tara exited the Palace from a second storey window. She dropped silently to the ground and instantly melded into the darkness around her. As she walked away from the Palace and away from Willow, a calm settled about her. She pulled up the collar of her coat, secure in the knowledge that what she was about to do was the best course of action.
Evie’s place in Sacred Oaks was a rather modest affair, especially when compared to the star’s flamboyant personality. Tara punched in the security code at the entrance to the massive gates, knowing full well that Evie would not have changed it. It was the date they first had sex…which was also incidentally the date they first met. Tara couldn’t explain why she would hold onto an anniversary long past, just that it was the sort of thing she would do. As she strode through the gates and bounded up to the front porch, she could feel the cameras on her. Evie or at least one of her bodyguards, was watching her approach. A suspicion confirmed when the front door clicked open as soon as her foot landed on the porch.
“Cruz,” Tara inclined her head in greeting towards the shape that lay in wait for her as she entered, she recognized his bulk immediately, “I need to see Evie.”
“Never one to stand on ceremony are you Maclay, nor are you possessed of a large supply of patience,” Cruz intoned, his carefully cultured tone and measured words at odds with his appearance.
“You know me too well,” Tara shrugged, “Is she busy?”
Cruz nodded solemnly but then inclined his head towards the stairs in an invitation for her to ascend. Tara smiled and bounded up two at a time, there was no time to stand on any sort of ceremony. Evie’s room was at the top of the stairs, straight down the hall. Tara knew the route by heart, and as she entered without knocking she also recognized the familiar cloying scent that assaulted her nostrils. Sex…and lot’s of it.
Tara made out a woman’s body moving upright in the semi darkness but instantly knew it was not Evie. She smirked and lent against the doorjamb for a few moments, hearing Evie’s moans from somewhere beneath the woman who pounded relentlessly above her. Tara reached out and flicked the light switch, not really caring that she was interrupting and watched as the woman gradually relaxed her pumping movements as she glanced over her shoulder to where Tara stood. She tossed her hair and gave a small snort of annoyance before lifting her hips away from Evie’s body. As she rolled over onto the wide bed, Tara not only saw the large, glistening dildo she wore but also recognised her instantly. It was Mandy, one of the Ladies who had been present in the Palace when the body of the planted cop was found. Although she was certainly not interested in the olive skinned woman by any stretch of the imagination, she did note that she was just the type of exotic beauty that Evie creamed herself over. Mandy was not in any hurry to hide that beauty as she lowered herself back against the luxurious pillows at her back
“Leave us,” Tara rumbled.
Mandy raised her eyebrows and glanced across at Evie, who had by now lifted herself on her elbows so she could face Tara.
Evie nodded without taking her eyes off her ex-lover, “Go take a shower, I’ll join you later…and keep that dildo on.”
With another snort, Mandy lifted herself from the bed and moved to the bathroom that adjoined Evie’s bedroom. As she walked, swinging her hips in an exaggerated manner, she kept her dark eyes locked on Tara’s in a silent challenge. She had obviously staked her claim on Evie. Tara continued to smirk; she had absolutely no desire to renew her passionate fling with the movie star.
As soon as the bathroom door closed shut, Evie lifted herself into a sitting position and patted the space on the bed beside her.
Tara shook her head, “This isn’t a social call, Evie.”
“Tara darling, I know things are over between us but do you really have to be so rude?” Evie replied indignantly.
“I need you to leave town,” Tara interrupted harshly; she didn’t have time for light-hearted conversation or any of Evie’s manipulating games.
Evie was taken aback and remained silent for at least half a minute which was an eternity for the move star. Clearly Tara’s request was out of the blue.
“I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t ask such a thing of me without good cause, Tara,” Evie replied in a measured tone, “Why do you want me to leave, am I in danger?”
Evie couldn’t help thinking about herself all the time; it was just the way she worked.
“Yes,” Tara said curtly, her lips pursed tightly together, “But….”
Evie made a sound of dismissal, interrupting Tara before she could continue with the rest of her proposal, “You know full well I don’t give a fuck about the game that Glory Talbot plays, she can’t touch me and she knows it. Your concern is sweet but unnecessary, darling.”
“I know you you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself but I need you to do this for me,” Tara had to force the words out, for some reason it did not come easily.
“Give me a reason,” Evie urged, sensing Tara’s reluctance to blurt it out.
“I need you to leave town,” Tara repeated with a sudden catch to her voice, “I need you to leave town and take Willow with you.”
It was then that Evie realised what had caused Tara’s voice to catch like it had…the hardened ex-cop was on the verge of tears…
TBC in Chapter 11 – “Nothing good lasts forever…[/b]
I'll just have to add that to my 'reasons why I'm a medievalist' list.
okay still trying to not go all crazy and send you a nutty reply 
Tara is so tough and a fantastic fighter. Very realistic fight too, and you kept the attention tight on Tara's pov. Textbook fight-scene writing. 
Willow may be a bit out of her element in a pitched battle, but once she gets on her dancing gear (or off, as the case may be), watch out Tara 
soon
