To Protect and Serve Ch. 03

"Play with yourself," Clara suggested, moving her hand down to rub her clitoral area as they ground their crotches together.

Shamira followed the suggestion, causing little blinking lights to appear in her head. Her other hand was pinching and tugging at her own nipples, remembering how good it felt when it was Clara's hands and mouth doing the teasing. They bumped and ground and generally pleasured themselves for a while, with Shamira reaching orgasm again first.

Clara grinned, her hair a mess as she kept her hips moving. 'She really is beautiful,' she thought, looking at Shamira's taut body as it lay content on the bed. But Shamira's hand wasn't inactive, drifting over to help Clara stimulate herself, pushing down on Clara's hand as it circled her clit and swollen lips. It wasn't long before the Native American woman was cumming again.

"You're getting better at this," Clara said, falling back on the bed chuckling. "I'll make a full blown slut out of you yet."

Shamira closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. It was a relaxing gesture, and it helped her think. 'Is that what I want?'

Clara pulled away, removing the double-ended sex toy and tossing it idly to the floor. She lay on top of Shamira, kissing her lips, then waiting for those eyes to open.

"What?" Shamira said at last.

"Tomorrow, do me a favor. Look at the list of your fantasies. Watch the video of your night with me. Then think about whether or not anything you see or feel is really wrong." She kissed Shamira again, rubbing her body over the top of her lover's. "Take as much time as you need, and let Shane know. But if you do --" Clara stopped. She didn't know how to say the next part.

"What?" Shamira propped herself up on her elbows.

"This isn't an ultimatum, I just want you to know that."

"What isn't an ultimatum?"

Clara sat up. "You're only going to be able to be 'confused' for so long. You told Shane that you were all in, but it's clear that you're not quite. And the next time . . . well, --"

"Next time I'm either in or . . . what? I have to leave?" Suddenly, Shamira wasn't in the mood anymore.

"You know the rules. Live in this house, abide by the lifestyle. Don't, and you work for Shane but remotely." Clara caressed her friend's cheek. "I really like having you here. I think you belong here, but Shane runs his house his way. To make exceptions is to appear weak to his adversaries."

Shamira got out of bed. She didn't know why she was upset, since Clara was right; she already knew all this. "How long do you think I have?"

"I think that Shane will be more patient with you than he might with others, but don't say that you're ready again if you're not." Clara looked on as Shamira started to get dressed. "Listen, don't be mad," she said, wondering if she should have just let Shane explain. "Come back to bed. Please?"

"I just think I should go find Renata and apologize and everything while I still can."

'This girl is so damn reactionary!' Clara thought, jumping to her feet. Still naked, she got in front of Shamira, wrapped her arms around the woman, kissed her briefly, and then stared her in the eyes. "Please? I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure you have plenty of time to figure things out." She gave Shamira her doe-eyed look, and saw the woman melt a little. "Doesn't getting naked and coming back to bed sound better than getting dressed and storming out?"

She slipped her hand down into the panties that Shamira had hastily thrown on, curling her fingers between the folds of the woman's sex. "Not everything has to be an emergency. Ride to the airport with Renata tomorrow if you really want to talk to her, and then jump back." She kissed the side of Shamira's neck, continuing to use her fingers and noticing that Shamira wasn't exactly fighting back.

It was really hard for Shamira to argue with Clara. The woman made too much sense, was far too sensual for words, and those damn kisses just made Shamira an intellectual vegetable.

"I still have a bag of goodies and we have two hours until sunrise." She quickened her finger motions and pressed her body against Shamira, making sure those fingers couldn't escape. "Wouldn't you rather cum a dozen more times --"

"Okay, you've talked me into it!" Shamira said with a laugh and a moan. "You're really hard to be annoyed around. You know this, right?"

"It's a gift," Clara said, leading her friend back to bed.

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Sometime that day . . .

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Shamira felt a light tapping on her shoulder. There were many things she didn't want at the moment, and being awake was one of them. She and Clara were still tangled up in each other's arms, legs, and Shamira's nice cotton sheets. Slowly the muscular amazon opened one eye and looked up to see a grinning Renata standing over the bed.

"Got an email you wanted to tag along to the airport?"

"I di-nuh send nuh m-mail n-body," she muttered. "Choo?"

Clara had stirred a bit and nodded. She was a bit more coherent, but not much. "You napped off. Logged on real fast. Knew you wouldn't have slept much, so I told her to come by." Clara grinned and kissed her. Shamira responded shyly at first, but each kiss seemed to energize her a bit. "Now get your cute butt in gear and get dressed. I'm goin' back . . . sleep."

"Last night, you wanted me naked. Now it's 'get dressed.' Make up yer mind."

Clara grinned again, curled up her legs and then thrust Shamira out of bed. "Get movin.' I'll talk to Shane."

"Hey!" a naked and slightly embarrassed Shamira replied. "My bed!"

Clara rolled to the edge of the bed, kissed her again, then rolled back to the middle. "Mine now. You go."

"Bitch," Shamira replied, standing up and throwing on another set of clothes. She threw on a tight pair of jeans, not even bothering with underwear, a sleeveless western-style black shirt which she tied off at the middle, her black hat and one of her pairs of deliciously comfortable custom-made cowboy boots.

"Damn," Clara said, "Now I kind of wish I were going with," she added, eyeballing her friend. "Some girls can just make jeans work."

"She most definitely can," Renata said, her own grin sultry and appreciative.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a piece of meat," Shamira shot back good-naturedly.

"If you looked like a piece of meat, I'd drag your carcass into a tree and nibble on you for a couple of days."

"Yeah, like THAT'S not a double-entendre."

"Shut up and let's go. There's a wreck on 75 just north of the perimeter, so we're going to have some waiting."

Shamira followed the werejaguar to the garage and climbed into --

"A Jaguar?" Shamira asked. "Isn't that a little bit of shameless self-promotion?"

Renata shrugged. "It was pretty, I asked for it, Shane bought it for me. He'd get you something more to your tastes if you want."

"Me figuring out what my tastes are seems to be one of the problems," Shamira said, buckling down and diving into her apology. "Listen, I'm sorry about the other night. I behaved childishly. It's just that it was my first time ever to wear the big-girl pants and --"

"And I took a crap in them before --" Renata stopped and made a face as she revved the Jaguar's engine. "Let's pretend I didn't say that and try and scour the visual from our brains."

"Way too late," Shamira replied as she made a gagging motion.

"Listen, you did everything right. Something you just probably didn't realize is that you were in the process of making a contract with the faeries. A verbal contract yeah, but a contract nonetheless. And in the magical world, you have to be really, really careful about contracts, because they will come back to bite you in the ass, and not in a good way."

"And I haven't even figured out what I got myself in for yet. I should've done some research yesterday."

"How could you?" smirked Renata. "I mean, you had football to watch, Clara to make out with, EFIs to kill, Clara to have sex with . . . your day was swamped."

Shamira covered her face in shame. "I did spend a lot of yesterday with Clara. I probably could've taken some time when she and Henry got into it."

"What this time? Don't tell me, let me guess. Either the gratuitous use of Native American culture by imperialist Western culture, casinos, or Columbus Day?"

"The first one. Are the other ones --"

"Don't even get her started on Columbus Day. When that day rolls around, nobody brings it up, and we glare at anyone who does. Otherwise, she'll give you the entire speech about 'That Damn Bastard,' and that one can go on for hours. But speaking of Clara," Renata added slyly, "you two seem to be getting awfully chummy."

"She's really great." Shamira smiled. "She really makes a new girl feel at home. I just wonder how long it'll be home."

"Hey, Clara never made ME feel at home like that. Sure she dominated me and all, but . . . what do you mean 'how long'?" Renata looked really worried. "You're not leaving are you? Listen, I really am sorry about stepping on your toes, and I figure we could work out a way so that I could signal you if I want you to confer --"

"It's not that," Shamira interrupted. "Clara reminded me of what you were talking about, my inability to commit to this lifestyle and that if I don't get my act together I won't be allowed to stay."

"Something tells me that's not exactly how Clara put it."

"Close enough."

"Shamira, Shane will give you time. Remember, the only reason you submitted to him and Clara is because you said you were ready. He wasn't going to force you or rush you. The one thing you can't do is play the role of 'seduced' all the time."

"What do you mean? Seduction really didn't have much to do with it."

Renata rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. "No, it's that stereotype, you know? The girl, or guy, who does the 'unspeakable' at night, then claims the next morning that she was seduced, or intoxicated, or whatever. Someone who always has an excuse. I don't see you being like that. You just don't seem to know for sure. Just don't go crying wolf."

"Why? Raul will show up?"

"A joke! I knew you weren't a lost cause," Renata said. "Besides, you're already doing a bit better outside of your comfort zone."

Shamira pursed her eyebrows. "How so?"

"By the looks of things when I walked in, you spent a good amount of time having sex with another woman. Admittedly, it WAS Clara and she IS hot, but did you think three weeks ago that you'd ever be able to do that? Because you sure don't seem to feel guilty about it."

Shamira's eyes opened wide. "You're right," she muttered. "I don't. Hey, that wasn't some kind of therapy was it?" The notion that the amazing sex she had enjoyed might have been just "training" made her uneasy.

"With Clara? Lady, I've rarely seen her get intimate with anyone but her donors in a non-dominating capacity in the years that I've known her. She did it because she seems to like you. Don't let that paranoid mind of yours think otherwise."

Shamira was able to drop the idea more easily than she would have guessed. Everything about her time with Clara so far seemed so genuine to her. It really felt natural. And if that fantasy was truly something she could enjoy, why not the others?

It was a nice thought and it put her in a better mood. "So, Clara said you were attacked and . . . made a were early? How did you cope?"

Renata shrugged. "I guess I just had to. And kinda like you, it wasn't exactly the easiest transition. You got one thing goin' for you though, and that's backup. I got jumped at Carnival. Filho da puta. He was hot, I was sixteen and drunk --"

"Not exactly Mr. Right?"

"Wasn't even 'Mr. Right Now.' Drug me off into an alley and I thought I was gonna get lucky. Lose my virginity and everything. Then he changes and bites me in the fucking leg and is trying to drag me off into the fuckin' jungle."

"How'd you get away?"

"I didn't. Well, not by myself anyway. I was kicking and screaming, but I was sure I was going to die, y'know? I was swinging anything I could get at him, but it mostly just pissed him off and made 'im bite harder. But then I saw someone or somethin' jump on top of him and start driving a knife into his back. Turned out it was edged with silver."

"Apparently my would be sugar-daddy had been a naughty kitty and was hunting humans, which is against Tribunal law, and he was also doing it way too close to civilized areas. Tribunal had sent a bad-ass vampire chick to kill him, and she found him just in time to save my hide. She killed the fucker and came over to me. I thought I was next of course, but she just told me to calm down. She helped wrap up my leg and explained what the guy was and what was going to happen to me. I didn't believe her, she showed me the fangs. Still, it took me longer than you to accept the whole magical world crap."

"What happened next?'

"She got me in touch with a local alpha were, but he was a snake changer. Not a lot in common, but a good guy. Woman who saved my life left a card in case I was ever looking for full-time employment in the States. I liked her style, and she liked the fact that I was a fighter, I guess. So I learned to take care of myself, learned how to take care of others, then showed up here about eight years ago."

"Wait, that assassin . . . was it Banshee?"

Renata grinned. "Ding ding ding! Give that girl a prize. Yeah, Banshee has always been a total bad-ass, so the Tribunal sent her and some assassins from the other houses down to look for the rogue were. Seems that South America's vamps aren't all that powerful comparatively and most of the were community wouldn't leave their territories. The Rio alpha was a sot and didn't do shit. I hear he got . . . replaced, shortly after this incident."

"So I'm not the first stray Shane's picked up?"

"Not exactly. Admittedly, you're the first one that he didn't establish a relationship with before bringing on board. I talked with him remotely a lot. And I'd also figured out the whole 'what turns me on' thing a year before I got here." Renata smiled. "I keep forgetting how little experience you have. What was it, just over two weeks ago you were a good cop who had no idea the rest of this shit existed."

"Now I'm smack dab in the middle of it trying to learn to swim." Shamira sighed.

"But I'll bet you're cute in a bathing suit."

Shamira tried to glare, but Renata was having none of it. "Hey, I would pay good money to see you in a bikini. And make one snide comment about yourself and --"

"And what? You'll cough up a hairball? Take your big ball of yarn and go home? What is the kitty going to . . . . Ouch!"

Renata had reached over and pinched one of Shamira's nipples with substantial force, making Shamira pull back on instinct and rub the wounded nub. She realized that she was probably rubbing it more than was warranted, partially because she was savoring the experience more than she would admit.

"If I weren't rushing for a plane --," Renata muttered, licking her lips.

"When you get back maybe?" Shamira replied, trying her best to be sly without sounding anxious.

"We'll see. I may be bring some folks back with me, so --"

"Not the spider guy, please? He's just . . . it makes my skin crawl."

Renata laughed. "You might want to talk to Banshee about working on that fear of yours, because I'm definitely bringing the werespider back with me if he's interested. His resume is great, his current employers are pissed that he might be leaving, and he's a total dominant man-babe! And werespiders are supposed to be near-fucking-impossible to sneak past, making them great guardians."

Shamira shuddered at the idea of being dominated by a giant arachnid guy. Maybe she should go talk to Banshee.

The rest of the trip went well, with the two women once again trying to repair and/or build an amiable relationship. By the time they'd reached the parking garage, things were good between them, and the promised each other to spend some time just hanging out when Renata got back. The werejaguar made a comment about "if Clara lets you out of her sight," but Shamira blew it off. She and Clara were just friends. Good friends. Good friends who had amazing sex.

Shamira gave Renata a hug, climbed into the trunk of the Jag and shadow jumped back to her closet. She peeked out the door and saw Clara still asleep, snoring in a monumentally cute way. Shamira shirked her clothes and crawled back into bed. Before she could even settle her head, Clara turned, smiled, kissed Shamira softly on the lips, then cuddled into the muscular woman's chest and went back to sleep. Without even thinking about it, Shamira's heart took a beat.

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Later that afternoon . . .

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Shamira was a bit grouchy. She hadn't gotten much sleep at all that day, and then Shane had "summoned" her to the golf-course for a round with him and Banshee. Clara had grinned when her lover was grumbling and getting dressed, then the Native American herself had to report to the control room to relieve Raul for security detail. Shamira dressed up, grabbed the fancy new clubs that Shane had bought for her, then made her way to the first tee.

When she got there, Lillian was also present. She was dressed in skintight black-spandex suit that contrasted nicely with her fiery-red hair. She also had a cherry-red ball gag in her mouth, with leather straps leading from it around her jaw and secured at the back of her neck. She was holding an umbrella over Shane, trying to look meek. Shamira just thought it made the former swimsuit-model-turned-necromancer just look sultry.

'Why can't I look like that? Duh . . . she's a model! She's had training and crap. So she's Shane's toy today. I wonder how it feels to be human and female, but be dominated by a male vampire?' She watched as the umbrella that was shading Shane drifted a bit and sunlight was able to reach him. He glared at her, reached out and then slapped her small pert breasts through her outfit. Lillian's body shuddered, but she otherwise didn't move or make a sound. She didn't even blink. For a moment, Shamira felt a pang of envy.

"Shamira, so glad you could join us. Renata get to the airport all right?"

"Yes sir," she replied, almost forgetting herself and slipping into a submissive role. She had taken the day off. "She and I had a long talk. I apologized a lot."

"Don't feel you need to apologize for everything, but it was good that you did. I know you're proud, and so is she. So no problems working with her in the future?" he asked, grabbing his driver and striding towards the tee. Shane always hit first.

"No, no problems working together."

"And playing together?" He swung, driving his ball straight down the fairway. "She and Clara have both told me of your reservations." Shane sounded serious now as he put his club away and got under the sun-umbrella. "You came to me, Shamira, and YOU told me you were all in. Were you lying?"

Shamira was now a little angry. "I don't lie," she replied stoutly. "I thought that I was ready, but maybe --"

"No 'maybes', Shamira. I want you on my team and in my house, but I need for you to be sure. I don't want to be counting on you and have you back out on me --"

It was Shamira's turn to interrupt. "No."

Shane slowly turned, his face a mask. "What do you mean by 'No'?"

"No, you don't get to do that. You can question my resolve in regards to the whole submissive thing all you want, but you don't get to call me a coward out there in the real world. I've never backed down when someone was in trouble and needed my help, including you. Okay, maybe you didn't really need my help, but I didn't know that. I'm not afraid to die --"

"You are not afraid to die, but 'living' seems to make you nervous," Shane said, his voice more forgiving. He had wanted to light a match under her and remind her that she didn't have to be anyone's doormat. Unless that sort of thing turned her on. And after getting a look in that delightful head of hers, he was pretty sure that there were still many things that turned her on that he didn't know about yet.