Title: Broadway
Author: Shatterpath
Feedback address: shatterpath@shatterstorm.net
Date in Calendar: 20 June 2008
Fandom: Light, Water, Muses
Book: Prisms
Category: The continuing saga of Dace and pack's adventures. Takes place in the summer of 2004 in a land far, far away
Pairing: Dace/Catherine. And Dace gets a new playmate.
Rating: PG-13 to NC17. I cover the whole damn spectrum in this one!
Summary: A personal favor turns fascinating for the big cat…
Spoilers: Nothing specific, except for the several characters from earlier sections of Light, Water and Muses, and aspects of their characters and backgrounds were established there.
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DD08

General Disclaimer: This site contains stories between mature, consenting adult females. All characters are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. All TV show disclaimers are in earlier parts of this saga.

Note: Because of the dangers of Real Person Fic, this tale has been rewritten. Squint a bit and you might be able to figure who the Broadway characters are.

Beta: ariestess, ardvari, laylat, geekgrrllurking, racethewind10

Broadway
Part 4

The desert of my home is endless and rocky, a near moonscape of dead dry isolation. The sensation of rain is glorious, the sweet coolness caressing the parched earth and hot, dry skin. Sara and I are both from the coast of California, me the south and she to the north, meeting in San Francisco in the middle. If not the rain, we always had the entity of the Pacific to soothe us.

We like the rain and the desert makes us appreciate the rare gift of falling water. Like children or happy animals, we romp in the stuff given even a small chance.

And is anything more glorious than kisses in the desert beneath a raining sky?

I'm barely aware that I've moaned softly at the dream-memories of my sweet Sara, the light touch on my body rousing me. There're long, lazy moments when I just soak up the shy caresses, a gentle mouth on the hollow of my throat and a caressing hand on my ribs.

But I do start a bit in surprise when the eyes I meet aren't the familiar dark brown, but the mossy green of my new lover. "Lee," I mutter and she freezes self-consciously. Snorting sleepily, I grab at the sheets with my toes and push them away as best I can. "Touch all you want, pretty girl. Just beware."

"Of?" she asks timidly and I chuckle softly and relax back into the pillow.

"I'm still nursing my kids. I'll leak all over you."

"Okay. May I take my hand back, please ma'am?"

Oh, right. "Yes."

Honestly, I'm a little surprised at her boldness, her wiry weight shifting to cover me, her mouth trailing wet kisses downward, her hands on my torso, near where our bare tits mingle. Just as her mouth would touch the scarred tattoo on my sternum, she stiffens with a cartoon squeak of alarm.

Chuckling, I raise my head again, even as Lee is up and off me with a distressed noise. "Fuck, I gotta pee," she whines and is off like a shot even as I dissolve into laughter. Stretching, I sit up and note that I'm going to need to get to the twins soonish. After all this time, the routine's getting a little old. "Can I clean up a little?"

I hadn't even heard her step out of the bathroom! Blinking, I eye Lee blankly for a moment, still a little disoriented by my body's mistaking her as Sara. "Yeah, sure."

Utterly unselfconscious about being naked, Lee goes for her bag and scrounges through it to come up with a hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste. Flouncing happily, she retreats to the bathroom again and I just shake my head. My amusement is only heightened with the muffled sounds of her singing to herself through brushing her teeth. Obviously, she's in a good mood.

"Lee?"

Curious, she steps into the room, wiping her hands on a towel, head cocked like a dog. "Yeah?"

"Could you handle a break from this? I really should feed us and my kids. Then, I got a real nice room over at the Times Square Hilton where my bike is. Or, we can come back here."

"I can adapt, sure. This is actually early for me. It's not even ten a.m.! Do I get a nap later?"

The kittenish complaint makes me laugh and sit up and stretch. "Yeah, me too, actually. My pack generally works graveyard and my business is pretty well nocturnal. Get dressed and I'll feed a different need."

Giggling, she does just that, scowling at the lack of underwear, which makes me snerk and leer. Everything gets packed up; I yank my bra back on and stuff the autographed shirt in my bag. Lee giggles, "If you could have only seen the look on your face when Eve started writing on you. God, we're gonna be giggling about that for months."

"Trust me," I parry back and toss her duffel to her, "I won't forget it either."

In the sunlight, I pause to stretch like the great yellow cat I'm sorta related to, not giving a crap if I'm being ogled by anyone.

"Where to?" Lee asks. "Your sidekick got here pretty quick last night. They can't be that far, right?"

"Smart girl. There's a Spades-owned building a couple blocks away where we're staying this trip. Couple of floors have been converted to corporate housing. C'mon, the twins'll be up by now. They know I'm coming."

It's predictably too noisy to talk and I'm thoroughly amused and charmed once more by this woman when she slips a hand under my bag to hook a couple fingers into my waistband. It's a subtle hold, because I'll bet she has to keep in mind that she never knows who's watching.

When Catherine opens the door to the suite, she's grinning in that coyote, knowing kind of way. "Hey there. I was going to call you when the kittens suddenly perked up. Mornin' Lee, come on in."

And that alleviates any possible discomfort the actress might have felt. While I attend to the twins, Cath chats casually with our guest, who's predictably fascinated by what my mate does for a living.

Not many people get to meet an honest-to-god criminalist; especially from the second best lab in the country. Hell, it is the best non-federal lab.

"How did you two meet?" Lee breathes in absolute disbelief and I swallow amusement as Catherine laughs out loud.

"Honey, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let's just say that it was fate."

We share a sweet gaze of complete understanding, right down to the depths of our intertwined souls.

Once Katie's more chewing than eating, which gets more painful the older and stronger she gets, I toss her onto my shoulder where she grips my hair in her favorite climbing behavior and I can pat her until she burps. Then she gets to toddle to her other mom while I do the same with Sandy, cat-talking with both the whole time.

By that time room service has arrived and Lee retreats to the bathroom while lunch is set up. I can just make out the sound of her voice, obviously on the phone. Catherine is thoroughly amused by all of this, accustomed to how strange life can get around me. So we gather around the coffee table to eat and entertain the kittens, a sleepy Sofia wandering out in her jammies to barely acknowledge the whole mess of us until she's worked her way through a couple cups of coffee and several hundred calories.

"Don't forget to call home to wish Cassie a happy birthday," Sofia eventually yawns, finally coherent. "It's bad enough you're with her and Lindsey and Jamie would kill you if they knew." The negligent gesture at Lee makes her startle and I laugh.

"Catherine's ten and a half year old and her best friend. They adore you."

Poor Lee looks completely disarmed and not a little intimidated. Catherine slaps Sofia's shoulder and smiles maternally at our guest. "What's the matter, honey?"

"Jesus, you people are so… so… fucking cool! I feel like just some idiot singer."

None of us laugh, though Sofia has to slap on her 'Detective Curtis' face to manage it.

"Oh, we're just different worlds, Lee," Catherine waves off the outburst. "Not better or worse. The girls would be starry-eyed because you're famous. We get that you're just… Lee. However, you and that handsome hubby of yours are also lucky to be in a position to get on that one's radar."

I acknowledge her comment with a raise of my glass and grin at my new pal. "See? Nothing to worry about. Told you I'd protect you. They will too. Finish your lunch."

And with something mundane to do, Lee slowly calms from her bewilderment. I sneak off for a few minutes to repack my play gear into a backpack that I can lock like luggage, adding several things in the process. This includes leaving my collectable t-shirt here and getting something more ordinary over my skin.

"Ready?" I ask Lee and she looks up from where she's been tickling Sandy with that shy grin. "You need to do some shopping? Or swing by wherever the hell it is you live? Am I completely disrupting some sort of routine you need to stick too?"

"Nothing that a day or two will destroy," she smiles. "And I have clothes at the theater. Just don't make me walk too far. I'll chafe in weird places."

Catherine sends me off with a kiss and a knowing smile. Out on the street, I call back to the ranch, surprised when the voicemail picks up. Usually somebody answers with so many people living there. So I horrify my companion by a badly sung couple lines of 'Happy Birthday' and wish the now-nineteen year old Cassie many more before I hang up and follow Lee into the waiting cab.

The clinging heat is getting to me again and Lee chortles at me, "You really hate this humidity, don't you?"

"I've lived smack in the middle of the biggest goddamn desert outside the frickin' Sahara for nearly two and half years. And San Francisco never did heat and humidity like this. You east coast people are mental."

She laughs and bumps shoulders with me. During the ride, she points a few things out and I listen like a good tourist. It's just mouth noises at this point anyway, because I can smell how randy she's getting. At the hotel, Lee slaps my hand down and pays the cabbie, much to my amusement.

We travel to my room in silence.

The minute the heavy hotel room door clicks shut, I grab Lee by her shirtfront and toss her against the surface none to gently. Caught up in the sizzle of sexual energy, I know my eyes must be just about blazing gold right now.

"If I kiss you," I growl ferally, "will you send me away with anything more than memories?"

Frantically, she shakes her head. "No. No, I'm clean, I swear."

"I'm trusting you, Lee."

"I know."

She's a good kisser, friendly and responsive, gripping my collar and waistband in her hands, moaning deep in her chest, not holding back even a little. Crouching, I grab her ass and she willingly jumps up to wrap her legs around me so that I can blindly wander over to the bed. Just like the wee hours this morning, I lower her down with the wiry strength I had to work so hard for after the attack that scarred me and sprawl my greater weight over her.

Kissing someone new is always such an intimate experience and not something I do with just anyone. But I really like this woman and she really does remind me powerfully of someone I adore. Pushing away all that, I concentrate on her, because it's the least that I can do.

In this, Lee refuses to submit, kissing me fiercely, digging her heels into my thighs, twisting my ragged sunshine mane in her fingers. It's dizzying and gratifying and intoxicating, transforming us into just a simple pair of people finding pleasure in one another.

Before I know it, she's shoved me onto my back and is wrestling with my shirt. "Goddammit, get naked. I didn’t get nearly enough of a chance to explore you earlier."

"Far be it for me to object to a lady in distress," I chuckle and get up on my elbows so that she can skin the fabric up to my armpits and I can drop flat to wrestle the mess over my head. Straddling my hips, she looks quietly at me, still breathing hard with lust, her striking eyes bright and curious. With quiet empathy, I lay quiet, my hands relaxed on her thighs.

My fucking her is different than what she is doing now. Raw, animal pleasure can be dished out by anyone, doesn’t matter the equipment. But her making love to me will take her out of a long-standing comfort zone and I know this.

With a deep breath, Lee skins herself naked from the waist up in one smooth move and leans over to kiss me again, pressing her body to mine. I will say that once she's made a decision, she doesn't hold back, really pouring herself into me.

For a women who's done no more than make out with another girl for a Broadway paycheck, she's a natural. But then again, just pure lusty enthusiasm can make up for experience, or lack thereof. "You're a good kisser," she grins, her dark hair falling around us like a curtain.

"You too, songbird. What else are you good at?"

"Dunno. Gonna find out."

Still grinning wildly, she sits back to watch her own hands as they begin to trace my body. Rather than watch her movements, I watch her eyes, reveling in her expressiveness as she does this.

When she touches the most intimate of my tattoos, I'm not surprised that her hands jerk up and she stares at me. "That's… not just ink."

"No. It's not."

Fascinated, she once more traces delicate fingertips over the inverted playing-card heart inked in crimson directly on my sternum, where the skin is thin over the bone. Superimposed over the heart is a playing-card diamond of fine black lines, with two lines cutting the diamond into quarters.

The black lines pucker like the fine scars that they are.

But these scars are no accident and I will always remember the burn of the scalpel and the black tattoo ink pressed into the bloody lines as my once-Mistress wrote her goodbye into my flesh. Reaching up to press this stranger's fingers to the marks, I explain soberly. "I broke a very serious promise to someone I adored. It's a long story and one you might earn someday. These scars are scant penance for what I had to do."

Fascination, horror and admiration play over her expressive face and she slowly nods, leaning over to kiss that place respectfully.

She does not directly touch it again.

Tenderly, she strokes and kisses down the middle of my chest, fingers shyly wandering off to circle my nipples, standing erect and ready. "Gently," I tell her as perceptive hands touch them tentatively. "I'm really sensitive and it can hurt. Comes with feeding the rug rats. And I might taste a little odd, though I should be drained dry right now."

Tossing her hair over her shoulder with some instinctual knowledge that I'd like to watch, Lee suckles delicately at the curve of my right breast, her breath hot and fast through her nose. By the time she teasingly traces that tongue around my hard, sensitive bud, I'm gripping the sheets in both fists.

Just as I asked, she's very gentle, her mouth soft, no teeth and no heavy pressure. Some part of me notes, as I always do, how different and similar a lover's suckling feels as opposed to my kids. Unable to resist the urge, I carefully knit my fingers into her silky mane, caressing her scalp and a soft groan breathes up from my growing need.

Open-mouthed, she tests my reactions, tongue coiling, until I growl, "gently," when the suction is too heavy. Apologetic, she once again does it perfectly and I have to admire her ability to take instruction. Eventually she tires, or realizes that she's got two to play with and kisses her way to my left.

The tickle of trailing locks of that fine hair makes me moan for real.

Lee practices her new skill on my other breast while arching her strong body up so that she can start easing buttons open on the fatigue pants. Then she soothes her exploring hands over the long plains of belly and abdomen, tracing the shape of my rib cage and the soft places between. The feel of the expensive silk boxers under the pants makes her huff in amusement, fondly kissing my nicely stimulated tit before sitting up.

"Different," she notes, licking her chops and I have to chuckle at her satisfaction. "But damn nice. Someday you'll have to let me try this when I'm not competing with your kids."

Laughing, I slap her thigh with affection and she clambers to her feet.

"I'm gonna get your kit. Stay put."

I have no desire to get up and would probably pass out with lightheadedness 'cause all the blood that should be in my brain has migrated south. Folding my hands behind my head, I cross my boots and watch the whirlwind that has taken over my stuff.

"Y'know, part of me knows that safe sex doesn't have to be boring," Lee rambles in her soft, distinctive voice, unloading the leather bag onto the dresser and pulling out various things. When she pauses over the case containing the toy, I grin naughtily. Bet that thing will see use before the day is up! Shaking herself out, Lee starts speaking again. "But you've made it more fun than I'd have thought. There." She turns to show her prizes. "Gloves and lube. Do I pass sensei?"

Laughing, I nod. "Yes, smartass, you pass. Now get that fine ass over here. And bring a couple spares so that I can attempt to distract you a bit."

Giggling coyly, Lee tosses her prizes to the comforter and reaches for my boots. With shocking shrewdness, she notices the subtle shift in my body language as she wraps her hands around the toes and heel, stilling like a hunted animal. "Don't touch the boots?" she asks tentatively and I'm surprised at the honestly of my reply.

"I'm not sure, actually. What you're doing right now is very psychologically intimate to me. But I'm rather surprised to admit that I like it."

With that sweet, shy smile, Lee plays it up like a pro, caressing the heavy old leather and my innards spasm with pleasure at her teasing. Definitely a natural…

As the boot slides off my socked foot, she examines the beloved object, stroking the pigskin strap that holds the heavy nickel chain to Achilles' tendon and arch. "You've had these a long time. They're in beautiful shape."

"They're a prop. They get me into character more than any other one thing."

"I guess I hadn't thought about what you do being just as theatrical as what I do," Lee muses, respectfully setting aside the boot and slowly removing the other.

"It's a little more one on one," I add dryly. "Usually anyway. Now a sex show with two thousand people in the audience would be a scream, but I don't think it's gonna happen in my lifetime."

"Certainly not at the Hirschman," she chuckles, tugging the cammie pants away from my hips and legs before carefully setting them aside so that the crap in the pockets stays put. After pinching off my socks, she casually strips naked and crawls up my body to settle atop me. She's dense for her small stature and I enjoy the feeling of the supple working muscle beneath her skin.

Once more, kisses lead to caresses, her right hand slithering down our intertwined bodies, me grabbing a pair of gloves and smacking her knuckles hard enough to sting. "Sorry," she giggles, "I'm getting horny and a little stupid."

Snorting, I chew lightly at her bottom lip while holding one latex glove in my fingers so that she can worm her hand inside.

Eventually, Lee runs out of reach and sits up beside me to continue her explorations. Honestly, I'm not sure I've ever been this intimate with a first timer before. She's like a sculptor, testing every inch of my skin that she can reach. Pressing into the bones beneath, giggling when I flex the faint abdominal six-pack, tracing the little hollow of my navel. Eventually we wrestle the shorts off and I am finally utterly bared.

"You're colored so differently," she marvels, shyly pressing her naked left hand down the cradle of my hipbone and over the gold curls.

"The desert sun has bleached me out. Those don't get sun. Lee?"

"Hmmm?"

"Put on a glove, or switch hands, make sure we're both slippery and lay your body back down here. You're making us both nervous and I'd like to hold you."

Nodding, she does as I've asked, squeezing out a thick blob of the cold lube onto my pubes, causing me to jump and her to giggle. Then she levers herself over my larger frame and I tuck my right thigh up between hers as she settles with her ear over my heart. Now the experiment is for real, her fingertips tickling deeper between my legs as I bury my fingers in her hair and murmur encouragement.

Luckily, she's a good listener, and I want this really bad. So, while she might still be unsure, her exploring gets the job done, the orgasm shuddering over me, making me hiss and groan. Propping her chin on my breastbone just south of the tat, Lee smiles luminously as I relax, going so far as to flash my teeth in a lazy yawn.

It becomes quickly apparent the Lee is not going to settle and I clamp her head to my chest, hearing her giggle. "You're wired. Does this mean no nap?"

"I'm not used to all this inactivity. Would you like to do something? Take a walk? Toss a penny in the Hudson? Make fun of Jersey?"

Laughter bubbles up and I hug her. Definitely no nap for me. "I have the bike. Wanna ride? I can swing through the Bronx and get you set up to be tested at the Spades lab if you want to play at some later date. It'll get you into the system and if you and Jaye want to be members, you can finish the details later with Michael."

"Sounds like fun. Will you wear the chaps again?"

Laughing, I wriggle away to toss her over my shoulder and swat her ass, carrying her to the shower to dump her there. A quick glance at the scrapped thong in my pants pocket gets a size and I call down to the desk for some new clothes to be sent up for my guest. Then I hop into the running shower to tickle Lee and make her squeal and prance.

Eventually we get cleaned up and I leave her in the bathroom to answer the door and accept the bag from the porter. Going for the wallet and a tip gives the guy an eyeful and I send him on his way. Then I sit on the bed and pull the damply naked Lee down to sit between my thighs, determined to do something I've wanted since laying eyes on her.

Lee practically purrs as I gently work her brush through the wet mass of her chestnut hair.

"Got you a present," I chuckle and she explores the hotel bag, pleased with the clean underwear, socks and plain white t-shirt.

"Thank you," she purrs and nuzzles my jaw for a moment before bouncing away to get dressed.

I pull out the black jeans I'd grabbed earlier, despite knowing that I'm going to roast. First plain old blue boy briefs, then the jeans, and the tight athletic socks that I snap over the trailing edges of the jeans. It's a trick for helping keep the pant legs in place while the well-loved old leather of the chaps slides over them.

I can feel Lee watching me do this and smile to myself.

"Come here," I abruptly growl at her and she jumps almost guiltily. "Gonna put you to work, pretty girl. Tug my pant legs down, far as you can." Kneeling with a hard swallow, Lee does as ordered and I place a hand on her head. "Stay." Painstakingly slow and teasing, I push one foot and then other into the well-loved old boots. "Zippers."

With trembling hands, she pulls the calf zippers over denim and horsehide, stroking the buttery surface. Crouching down onto the balls of my feet, I balance perfectly like that, elbows on knees.

"We're not done, are we, pretty girl? You and me will have unfinished business for a good long time, hmmm? You just keep that in mind."

Tilting her chin up, I give her a quick peck and stand again to pull on a bra in grey this time and hesitate over the shirt. Oh screw it. No one's cared so far that I'm shirtless!

"Got sunglasses, Miss Popular?" I tease as I repack my bag and park my own shades low on my nose to peer over them. She flashes me a 'duh' look and fishes out a pair of shades updated from Sofia's aviator-style. These are higher end, stylized and feminine, with thick stems and irridecent sheen on the lenses. When she slips them on to pose like a supermodel, I crack up.

A quick word with the desk gets me checked out, but I pause, looking at Lee, dressed like a college student, and me, a biker. With a mischievous grin, I get the guy at the desk on his computer's search engine and he hands me an address and cross streets. Definitely like this hotel!

In the garage, the Road King sits quietly, like a dozing predator in white and black and chrome. Luckily, I remembered yesterday to switch keys with Sofia because I had a feeling I was going to need another seat. I unlock the saddlebags to yank out the heavy leather jacket, nearly as old as the boots. I know every symbol across my back and shoulders, some echoing the tattoos on my back, and all of them important to who I am. Shrugging the thing on, I stash Lee's bag and retrieve a bungee web to keep my larger bag strapped tight to the rear wheel cover. Lee doesn't hesitate to put on the helmet I hand her, sticking her tongue out at me when I tease, "Good thing you're not some sort of prissy diva."

Straddling the padded seat, I slot the key and roar the big bike to life, the sound making Lee jump as it reverberates through the parking garage. Reaching down, I slap down the footpegs and then reach into the inside pockets of the jacket for my driving gloves.

"Hop on pussycat and I'll give you a different thrill." It's a little tall for her and she flops down ungracefully to the seat behind me, getting a thwack in the crotch that makes her curse. "Feet on the pegs I just put down, Lee. Ever been on a motorcycle before?"

"Not like this!"

"Okay. Your job is to stay close to my back and trust my body. When I move into a turn or a maneuver, you move with me, got it?"

"Okay."

"Be a good girl and we're as safe as humanly possible. That, and I'll reward you nice, since you're gonna be all worked up anyway."

"Cocky."

Rather than verbalize, I pause in balancing the bike off its stand to roar the RPMs up to deafening, the bike shuddering like an unbroken horse. Her sudden death grip around my ribs makes me laugh. "You are astride an enormous vibrator, darlin'. You'll be humping up against my ass soon enough, sooner still if I can find an empty enough stretch of road to open her up in this godforsaken rat's maze. Now, trust me!"

Luckily, Lee's limber and trusting, not to mention glued to my torso like an extension of my body, so the riding is easy. The constant chaos of this city is maddening and I'm reminded again that I can never be more than a brief visitor. Fortunately for me, I like my pal and she's calming enough that my senses are still well under control.

After navigating the harrowing intersection of 8th and Broadway, we tool along the western edge of Central Park. When we get stopped at a light, I finally get a sound that I've been unconsciously searching for.

They are small, chunky black birds, iridescent with green and purple and cloaked in gaudy stars and stripes of yellow and white. Hundreds of them are clustered in a tree nearby, their collective trilling song a racket. Even as I rev the engine to follow the truck in front of us, I experimentally whistle a fairly decent mimicry of the birds.

"Hey, you're good at that," Lee marvels and I laugh in the summer heat.

"I have your nick name, pretty girl. From me to you. You need a bird name, singer, and I couldn't remember what those were called until I saw them just now."

"Starlings?"

Warbling the bird's buzzing trill again, I move my right hand just long enough to pat her thigh. "Starling."

"You've named me after a pest species?"

Her feminine outrage cracks me up. "I've named you after a colorful, successful bird with a lovely voice that works well with its own. Don't be a pain in the ass, Lee."

Grumbling melodramatically, she rests her chin on my shoulder and we continue through her city until we reach the first cross street and I hang a right. "Where are we going?"

"Shopping."

Simultaneously, I spot the store's sign and a narrow parking spot. A glace over my shoulder shows me a cab that really is following as closely as I think it is. Oh great. So I squeeze the brakes until he's forced to jerk around us, horn blazing.

"Asshole!" Lee screams at him in fine New York fashion, flipping him the bird as I put boots to asphalt as we slow and then roll the bike back into the spot, chuckling the whole time.

"Get off, crazy woman," I laugh and she flops limp across my shoulders and moans pitifully.

"You made me straddle this fucking thing from Manhattan to the goddamn Bronx and you want me to walk? What kind of sadist are you?"

For what feels like the millionth time since getting to know this frisky female, I'm laughing again. "One that will make you face two thousand screaming fans sexually frustrated enough to light your costume on fire if you don't get your ass in gear."

Pouting childishly, she whines but does as ordered, prancing comically like she's got to pee. I retrieve my bag for safety and lock the helmets in the saddlebag. With my right hand wrapped heavily around the base of Lee's neck, I march us down a couple blocks to a seedy leather shop Michael recommended to me ages ago. I've never made the time to drop in and take a deep, appreciative lungful of the fragrant air inside. It's dim and dusty and cramped and reeks of cured animal skins.

Lee stares around as I walk away from her to the greasy-looking biker lounging behind the counter with a battered copy of 'FHM' in his hands. With a flick of my fingers, the glittering platinum card is held there and I growl, "the Archangel Michael sent me."

Oh, he's all business now!

"My new girl needs to not look ridiculous on the back of my hog."

Without a word, the gorilla eyeballs Lee for a moment before lumbering over to a crowded rack of leather jackets. He's good, and the third one looks perfect.

"Starling," I growl and she jumps like she's been tazered. A crooked finger makes her slink over like a wary alley cat and I grab her neck again, making her bristle and relax all at the same time. "Don't get pissy with me. I have no problem throwing you over that counter and tanning your ass right here."

The jacket is a perfect fit and I run my hands over her torso, knowing that I'm torturing her again. Barely concealing what I'm doing from the gorilla, I slide my hand lower and lower, cupping around the heated seam of Lee's jeans, her pelvis jerking helplessly into my caressing hand, her hands digging into my jacket. A few strokes of my finger has her on her toes, breathing hard, desperately trying to stay quiet, eyes screwed shut.

When I pull away and stand up straight, she whimpers. Something catches my eye and I growl at Lee, "What size shoe do you wear?"

It takes a moment for her green eyes to focus and she jumps when I squeeze her neck, forcing out the number and I flash the guy a hard 'what that hell are you waiting for' look. The boots are sculptures of black leather and tiny silver studs with a chunky sole and good four-inch stiletto heels.

(Curious? Go peek! )

I pull the zippers on the heels down and drop the femme-boots to the floor, toeing them upright before quirking the pierced eyebrow demandingly at Lee. Shuddering, she twists herself to pull off her left sneaker and yank her sock tight. With an expert slither of movement, she slips her foot into the boot and jerks the zipper up, quickly repeating the process with the other. The things give her some noticeable height, her jeans falling over the tops of them.

"Now," I growl, "I can wear you proudly on the back of my bike."

"Stockroom's in the back," The biker gorilla grunts and I don't need to hear it twice. With that hard grip on Lee's neck, I march her in back, noting how differently her body moves in the tottering heels. The long muscles in her legs are flexed snug, her ass high and tense. There's a reason women suffer the stupid things.

The stockroom is even more cluttered than the main floor, but it also has something I was hoping for; a big pile of unboxed leather merchandise, just about hip height to my pet. With a shove, Lee is thrust over the pile, her voice warbling almost comically in lust and confusion. So, I crack my left hand across her ass and growl, "don't move."

Panting and whimpering, Lee trembles, but remains unmoving even when I wrap my hands around her narrow waist and jerk her fly loose to roughly pull jeans and underwear to her ankles.

Leaving her there in that vulnerable position, I crouch and yank my bag open, fumbling for the toy case. I have to jerk chaps and jeans loose to get it situated, twice cracking Lee across the ass with a snarl to keep her tense and ready. One end of the articulated toy slides deep and snug into the clutch of my wet pussy, the thin straps up the crack of my ass pull over hipbones and clip to the toy on either side of my clit. Then I can click the business end of the thing straight and at a jaunty angle, hissing at the stimulation. Clumsy, I jerk the pants back up over my ass, not buttoning up, and crouch again for a condom and a quick squirt of lube.

"Gonna fuck you right off those heels, dancer," I snarl, looming over Lee's smaller body.

She squalls like a wild cat when I ram home.

Hot and horny as a bitch in heat, I fuck her like the toy was my own flesh and blood, feeling the thick, jelly-like layer beneath the silicone shell pulse with my thrusting. Sinking my teeth into her thick hair, I snarl and plant my feet to run us both over the finish line. I break first, feeling the rush spiral up from crotch to spine to brain, my senses offline for a moment.

Lee wails as my jerking hips and the rough press of my teeth on her scalp finishes the job, her body convulsing with pleasure.

"Hot, holy, fucking hell," Lee groans breathlessly, body submissive and trembling beneath mine. The animal rut is fading and I have to chuckle weakly. Our mutual arousal and the leather-filled shop has done its job and done it well.

Lee hisses and whines and tries to kick as I slowly retreat, giving her a couple inches back as evil tease before finally pulling out. Carefully stripping off the condom, I effectively collapse to my knees to grab her clothes and tug them into some semblance of order.

God I want to bury my face between her legs and taste her so damn bad…

But the rules win out and I brace her until she can stand and finish pulling her underwear and pants into place. Collapsing to the floor on my ass, I reach for the bag even as Lee slithers down into my lap to cuddle. Both of us are soaked with sweat in this stuffy, broiling space, dressed like this, after the hard exercise. So I fish out a bottle of water from the bag, downing half of it without coming up for air and handing it off. Quickly, it's emptied and the second quickly follows before Lee rests her head under my chin and I relax back into the pile of leathers.

"I'm buying this whole damn ensemble," she finally says quietly and I huff with amusement. "Did you see anything you liked?"

Snorting, I hug her and close my eyes for a moment. "I wasn't looking to be honest. I just wanted to make sure you were as safe as humanly possible. You're a hell of a sexy distraction. Tell you what. I'll put it on the company tab and you can pay Michael back. No paper trail with your distinctive name on it then."

"Deal. Thanks Dace."

What I really want is a nap, but that's not possible. So I shake Lee away from her near doze, helping her to her feet, marveling at how graceful she is in this new footwear.

"Dunno that I could manage four inch heels," I marvel and she smirks enticingly.

"I've managed worse and these are actually really comfortable."

The sassy little femme sashays out of the stock room with a sexy, loose-hipped wiggle and I have to scramble to get everything back in the bag, wincing as I roughly jerk the toy to get it to lie against my leg fairly discreetly and yank my pants into order.

I'm still buckling the chaps as I stumble back into the sales area, glowering at an entirely unrepentant Lee. The gorilla's face has yet to change, even when Lee's girlie squeal startles both of us. "You have to wear this to the theater! God, they'll shit themselves!" It's a vest that she proudly bounces over with, the leather thin and silky soft and nicely stitched with heavy silver snaps up the front. "My treat," she cajoles and I shrug off the jacket to try the thing on. Sometimes it's best to just shut the hell up and accept a gift from a lady.

It's a decent fit, but the second one is even better. It molds close enough to my slender torso to be enticing, without being blatant. When the guy rings us up and hands over the slip to be signed, the amount is hefty, but the merchandise is good and he volunteered the privacy of the stockroom. With no hesitation I slap on a two hundred dollar tip, sign my name and leave with a smile.

Lee reminds me of a happy kid, bouncing down the street to park her ass on the bike, hooking the perilous heels over the pegs like she's always been there, leaning back on her hands to bat her eyelashes playfully. "You are a minx," I admire and she laughs prettily, putting on the helmet when I hand it over so that I can strap the bag back down behind her ass. Thumping my weight onto the Road King, I start her up and check traffic. "The lab's close and then we can goof off. I'm starving too, all the sudden. Can't imagine why."

Lee giggles the entire half mile to the lab.

The stop takes less than ten minutes as the tech draws a little bit of blood and I input some bare-bones info about her in my account. Because I can, I put a rush on it, thankful that the lab seems slow right now anyway. "Call me on the STD, ASAP," I instruct the tech and she nods. "Anything else is icing at this point."

"Yes sir."

Then we're back at the bike and Lee sends me east to a highway that leads to a southbound 678. I couldn't give a crap less where we're going, I just like the wind in my face and the feel of her body wrapped around me with the big motorcycle growling beneath us like a living thing. The highway becomes a bridge, LaGuardia airport to the southwest and the forest of skyscrapers beyond.

Skirting JFK airport further south, we're headed into Michael's neck of the woods in Long Island and there are a few things I recognize from being here before. Lee directs me to an obscure and ancient strip mall that looks like it's going to collapse under its own weight that turns out to house a Jewish deli that smells like heaven. The food tastes even better than it smells and I tear into it and growl like a dog, making her giggle, then howl with laughter.

To Be Continued in Part 5...