Generally, when Jess has a brush with the law, it's because she's just done something to warrant it: digging up graves in the middle of the night, picking locks, any number of things; most of the time, the things they question her about are inconclusive and she knows it's time to move on from that town.
That can be difficult if she hasn't finished up the hunt yet, but she's never yet actually been arrested.
But in Hibbing, Minnesota, she stops in a bar to listen for any information on a possible hunt, and she runs into one of the most beautiful women she's ever seen.
She's dressed in a police uniform, and she's standing at the bar, questioning the bartender. She's all business, completely focused on her objective, and Jess is impressed and turned on by her competence.
The reason Jess is in Hibbing is twofold: one, she had already tagged a possible hunt there, and two, because she figured maybe she could get laid and work on scratching the itch she's had since Toledo, when Charlie had to rush home so abruptly.
And staring at the pretty cop, Jess thinks she just might get lucky. She digs through her purse for one of her fake IDs, but the gorgeous woman turns completely towards her, and Jess's breath stops right in her lungs, freezing there.
She's slightly older, yes, but her eyes are a beautiful, icy blue, like the sky after an ice storm. Her features are classically sculpted, and Jess has trouble walking up to her and speaking, short of breath like she is.
This is one of the few times that Jess has questioned her own appeal. She's not at all sure that she can measure up to how beautiful she is; Jess thinks the cop is probably way out of her league, but she turns on her thousand watt smile and figures she'll flirt with her just the same, even though at this juncture, she can't tell whether the cop will be receptive to it.
"Hi," she says, thrusting out her hand. "I'm Kate Milldale, from the FBI. I'm investigating your missing persons case."
The cop shakes her hand, nice, firm grip and dry palms. She's self-assured, not nervous or worried at all.
"Kathleen Hudak," she says briskly. "If you're here about the missing people, you'll need some information. I think I can help you if you come back to the station."
Jess smiles coyly and flips her hair over her shoulder, feeling like typical flirting is so obvious, but... she does it anyway.
"It's very nice to meet you," she says as they walk towards the exit. She gets a brief, calculating look from Kathleen, but no questions. It's as if Kathleen knew she was really saying, It's very nice to meet you, with the underlying implication that it's nice to meet her for reasons other than simple co-operation on a case.
"We're not sure what's happening," Kathleen says as she opens the door and holds it for Jess. "There are no clues, really. There's a strange grinding, shrieking sound, and then someone just vanishes. There's only one witness so far--which is how we know about the odd noise--but it's a seven-year-old boy and he was pretty traumatised."
"That's a good start," Jess comments, and Jess points. "That's my car. I'll meet you at the station?"
"It's two miles down the road," Kathleen tells her. "Park in the back."
Jess nods, unlocking her car door and sliding inside. She can't tell yet if she has any chance of getting lucky, but God, she hopes so, because it would be a travesty if she didn't get to hit that.
Once more, she finds herself wishing that she had time to stick around, that she didn't have to fake it for everyone, and that she could just start a relationship and actually have some companionship for once.
She finds the police station easily enough, rounds the corner and parks in the back lot as instructed, and feels a little guilty for perving so hard on Kathleen, especially since it's so shallow.
But Kathleen also has glossy dark hair, tied up in a bun, yes, but Jess can already imagine without too much trouble how it might look loose, curling in sleek waves around her face.
And, Jess reminds herself, brunette is a good thing. A very good thing. She pockets the keys to her car and steps around the side of the building, following the walkway up to the glass double doors.
Kathleen is shuffling through papers when Jess walks in, but she glances up, and suddenly her professional veneer slips for a second as she smiles at Jess.
Jess is, again, struck dumb, breath lodging like a hard candy in her throat. If she thought Kathleen was beautiful before, she really had no idea.
"I'm just collating the information and leads we have so far," she says, all professionalism again. "As soon as I get all of these in order, you can peruse them at your leisure."
Jess sees her opening, like a neon sign flashing in front of her.
"It's getting on to evening," Jess begins. "I was going to stop in that diner and grab something quick to eat; would you like to join me, and we'll go over the files together?"
Kathleen pauses, going almost preternaturally still. Slowly she meets Jess's eyes, and her heart trips over a beat at those eyes focused directly on her.
"I'd like that," she says softly, and Jess knows that she's accepting the invitation as more than just sorting through files over a greasy dinner.
"Great," Jess says, slapping her grin across her face. She's actually genuinely happy, but she's also anxious, so her ability to let her true emotions shine through is impeded and all she has to fall back on is her talent for dissembling.
"I can meet you in an hour," Kathleen says. Her smile fills her eyes, and the corners crinkle up endearingly--and also, in the most ridiculously hot fashion.
Jess thinks she might just die, if Kathleen manages to get any hotter.
"I'll be there," Jess promises. She waves, and makes her way back out of the station.
She can't concentrate on the case at all any more; she's too distracted by her own demanding body.
They do go over the files, mostly because Kathleen obviously has better concentration than Jess--that and she's probably not as wowed by Jess's own attractiveness--and Jess manages to eke out a piece of information that the police missed: every person has gone missing from the same parking lot of the bar that she met Kathleen in.
The cops had made notes about each missing person, looking for a connection, and while they had pinned down where each person had gone missing from, what they hadn't realised--and Jess did, because she knew a lot about cars--was that each person had an awfully nice car.
Some of them were classics, and a fair number of the missing were travellers.
"It's curious," Jess muses, "that the cars seem to be an important link. Perhaps that's the common thread between the victims."
"Other than that," Kathleen says, "there's no other evidence, and it's impossible to track the cars. It's almost as if the people drove right into the words, parked, and then suffocated themselves on exhaust fumes. But why would anyone do that? It makes no sense--one person, maybe, but twelve?"
Jess points to a notation at the bottom of a much older investigative report, written in tiny uneven script.
"More than twelve," she says. "Twelve in the last two years. But there have been others, according to this. At least twenty more dating back over the last ten years."
"How did my people miss that?" Kathleen asks, holding out her hand for the piece of slightly crinkled paper. Jess passes it over, then grabs a greasy french fry and puts it in her mouth, conscious all the while of whether she looks like a glutton as she eats.
"It's a pretty small note, and hard to read," Jess says. "And probably no-one thought there was any connection."
"We did miss this," Kathleen says. "That's unconscionable. And how come no-one opened a much more in-depth investigation into this? If people have been going missing for ten years, we should be doing something better to protect our town."
"It isn't your fault," Jess says. "But it's another whole heap of clues to sift through. Maybe there's something in those old reports that has a lead we don't currently possess."
Kathleen gives her a lopsided smile. "You're really smart. I can see why you're working for the Bureau. I have a guest room," she says all at once. "Save you some unfortunate time in our one extremely dilapidated motel."
"Are you certain?" Jess asks; "I'm plenty used to crappy motels."
"All the more reason for you not to have to spend any more time in them than necessary," Kathleen says. "Yes, I am sure. Come stay with me for the duration of the case."
Jess shrugs, attempting nonchalance, and this time she knows her smile reaches her eyes.
"I'd love to," she says, pitching her voice husky and low. Kathleen turns her face just slightly towards the window, and on the sharp cut of her cheekbone, Jess can make out the slightest tint of a rosy glow.
Jackpot. If she's blushing, then she's receptive to the flirting, and maybe she'll be receptive for more. Plus it's a pretty good indication that she is, judging from the offer to stay in her guest room.
Jess tucks away the last of her dinner. "I only have one duffle," she says. "I like to travel light."
Kathleen turns back to her. "As long as you don't mind the fact that the dog will probably wake you at five AM, you should be fine."
"I love dogs," Jess says honestly. "I never had one growing up." No matter how many times she and Jo had begged, Ellen had been adamant: no pets. Not even a goldfish. She'd explained over and over that there was no room in a hunters' tavern for an animal, but it hadn't made it any less disappointing for them--especially Jo, who was desperate for a puppy.
"I didn't either," Kathleen says. "And the dog belonged to my brother."
Jess senses there's a story there, but she's equally aware of the 'do not press for information' vibe she's getting.
"Let me get the bill," Jess offers; even though she's using fake credit cards and cash hustled in bars, she feels like it's the least she can do for taking advantage of Kathleen's generosity--and she is, simply because she's going to make the most of the fact that she's in Kathleen's house overnight.
"I'd rather--" Kathleen lifts one shoulder. "If you insist."
"Oh, I do," Jess says, smiling.
Their shoulders graze against each other as they leave the diner, and Jess gets a delicious, electric thrill. And from Kathleen's almost imperceptible shiver, she gets the impression that she felt it, too.
"No-one's used the guest room since it belonged to my brother," Kathleen explains later, as Jess carefully sets her duffle down on the gleaming hardwood floor just inside the door. "I'll bring you a couple of pillows and some fresh sheets," she adds.
"This is really kind of you," Jess says, trying to keep a lid on the slang because she doesn't want to blow her cover. She can still hardly believe she's standing here, inside of Kathleen's beautiful house.
"It's really no trouble," Kathleen says, and Jess thinks that maybe she's lonely. Other than the dog--a fluffy little white thing--she appears to live alone. Kathleen gives her a slightly awkward smile. "Listen, I'll show you the bathroom."
They walk down the hall, and then through the kitchen, and there's a door cracked open across from the bathroom, and Jess can see that it must be Kathleen's bedroom--it has an inviting double bed within, dressed in hues of midnight blue and a paler blue for the pillowcases and presumably the sheets.
It suits her--Jess tries to keep her mind from wandering to what Kathleen might look like, spread out on her mattress, with her blue eyes against the backdrop of her sheets.
It doesn't really work.
"It's right here," Kathleen says. "There's another bathroom down that hall--" she points "--but this one is closer."
Jess shifts on her feet. She's already said thank you and several variations thereof, which leaves her at a loss for what to say.
Luckily, Kathleen fills in the silence. "In the morning, I have gourmet coffee if you want it, and we can continue going over the files."
She's still dressed in her uniform, and Jess gestures to it. "Aren't you going to put something more comfortable on?"
Oh man, that was so not smooth--it was a come-on, sure, but Jess hadn't been sure yet that come-ons would be acceptable. But Kathleen just smiles ruefully.
"I did kind of forget. It's not often I have a guest. I'll be right back. There's books on the shelf in the living room, which is just off that hall as well. You're welcome to read one while you wait, if you like."
"I'm good," Jess says quickly. "I'm just going to keep going over the case in my head, for now."
"Don't do that too long," Kathleen says, and Jess thinks she's actually teasing her. "It'll drive you crazy if you don't put it away for at least a little while."
She disappears into the bedroom and the door shuts with a decisive 'click'.
Jess leans back against the wall, which is painted cream, and realises that Kathleen didn't lock her bedroom door.
She knows that's not an invitation to enter, but she thinks it might be an indication of how welcome flirting might be--Kathleen could've easily locked it, since Jess hasn't been exactly subtle about her interest.
Then again, once she finds someone she likes, she rarely is; there's usually not enough time to play hard to get or be coy about these things.
Jess closes her eyes and hums softly to herself, and then her phone buzzes in her pocket. She considers ignoring it, but then again, it could be something important, like a contact calling with information about a case, so she digs it out of her jeans and reads the display.
It's Jo's number this time. Jess feels an aching twinge, almost guilt, maybe, for being with another woman right now, but at the same time, it's not like she owes Jo anything.
Other than an explanation, at least.
She sends the call to voicemail. It takes a few moments, but the phone beeps about a new message, and Jess deletes it without listening to it. She doesn't know what Jo wants, but she's still not ready to talk to her, to hear her voice.
She stuffs her phone back into her pocket. But the damage is done: now she's thinking about Jo, and how without her, Jess might never have known how much she wanted girls. At the time, everything being thrown at her was about boys; there had been so many that came through the Roadhouse and they often stared at her.
Maybe she would have figured it out eventually--she'd like to think she would have--but Jo certainly hurried the process along.
The door opens again, and Kathleen is... well, Jess wasn't expecting this out the seemingly straitlaced police officer.
Again, in blue; Jess is impressed. The colour looks amazing on her, and Kathleen seems to know it; she has a pale blue tank on, and slightly darker blue cropped pajama pants.
"So," she says, and there's a twinkle in those exquisite eyes. "Shall we have a slumber party? Order pizza and drink beer?"
Jess is thrown for a loop, but Kathleen steps a little bit closer.
"I was just kidding," she tells Jess. "I'm way too old for that, and all stuffy about my responsibilities and priorities now." She laughs.
Jess is still leaning against the wall, and Kathleen is close enough that when Jess exhales, it causes fine strands of hair at Kathleen's temples to flutter.
She doesn't think Kathleen is quite sure what to do next; she's teasing, and flirtatious even, but Jess doesn't think she really lets herself relax all that often. Doubts that she spends a lot of time beneath the sheets with anyone, really.
"You have--" Jess reaches out. "An eyelash," she finishes, "let me just get that for you."
Kathleen obediently closes her eyes, and on her pale skin, Jess can see the blue framework of veins running through her eyelids. There's no eyelash, but Jess wants to start slow, to put her at ease; she barely touches her skin, but she can see the way it makes Kathleen tremble.
"Got it," Jess says in a whisper, and Kathleen opens her eyes, startling Jess all over again at how piercingly blue they are. She imagines that criminals probably just fall all over themselves to confess when faced with them--Jess would.
"Thanks," Kathleen says, and she sounds just a touch breathless.
So Jess goes in for the kill. She skims the curve of Kathleen's cheek, then cups her chin and lowers her head by excruciating inches, giving Kathleen time to pull away, or object in some fashion.
She doesn't seem to know exactly what to do, but she doesn't protest, either; her eyes drift closed again and her mouth opens just a little. For long moments Jess just watches her, breathing against her mouth; Kathleen finally sighs and closes the distance a little more.
"Easy," Jess whispers, and Kathleen opens her eyes. "Kathleen."
"Call me Kathie," she says. "Kate."
They are so close now that they are sharing each other's breath. Kathleen lifts her chin a little, and she comes closer, like she's going to finally lean into the kiss that they both know is coming, but at the last second, she averts her head a little.
Jess thinks maybe she misjudged the situation, and she lets go of Kathleen's chin, but then she turns back, reaching up to pet Jess's blond hair, which is a mess at the moment.
Jess lets out a breath and ducks her head again. This time, Kathleen doesn't shy away; Jess lays her slightly open mouth over Kathleen's.
And Kathleen, despite her initial reluctance--or perhaps shyness, Jess isn't sure--slips her tongue into Jess's mouth first.
Jess isn't really used to extremely soft, slow kisses, but that seems to suit Kathleen; she can tell that from the lines of her body as Jess puts her hands on her waist.
And so they kiss, and Jess has no idea how much time is passing, only aware of Kathleen's warm skin beneath the thin tank; the feel of her soft, slightly chapped lips; the scent of her body as she becomes more and more aroused by the kisses.
And at last, she draws back, putting her hand to her mouth, as if testing to see how swollen and damp her lips are.
It's really adorable: the idea that this straightforward, clearly very confident woman, finds something like this unsettling.
Kathleen finds one of Jess's hands and links their fingers together, pulling her hand away--but before Jess can think this is a retreat of sorts, Kathleen is stepping backward, tugging her along towards her bedroom.
And Jess goes, without really needing much persuasion. Or any at all, actually.
Jess is right: the blue of the sheets and blanket that Kathleen is lying on make her blue eyes even more dramatic. It makes Jess's heart stutter and start to pump harder in her chest; she knows Kathleen is growing a little anxious because Jess isn't doing anything yet, so she runs her fingertips down Kathleen's bare arm.
"I'm just enjoying the view," she whispers. Kathleen is so different here; gone is the extraordinary confidence and in its place is a light glow of sorts, skin flushed, every hard angle from being a woman in a man's world softened.
Kathleen takes a deep breath, and it makes her chest expand, breasts pressed taut against the fabric of her tank. Jess dares a slight caress to one; her nipples perk up instantly. She gasps a little.
"Have you..." Jess chews her lip and tries to think of a delicate way to phrase it. "Have you done this before?"
"When I was in college," she says, sounding breathless and excited, "I may've experimented a bit."
"I'll be gentle," Jess promises, moulding her hand to the round swell of Kathleen's breast.
"Don't worry about it," Kathleen says though. "I won't break, and if I didn't want this--want you--I wouldn't be here, trust me."
Jess smiles. "That's what I like to hear," she replies, and sets to undressing Kathleen as if unwrapping a Christmas present.
She's straddling Kathleen's hips, her knees on either side, but she swings one leg over so that Kathleen can push herself up against the pale blue pillows and raise her arms so that Jess can roll her tank upwards, over her head, and off.
The bare skin exposed by the maneuver is startling in its loveliness--not that Jess didn't expect beauty, but buried beneath the police uniform are perfectly-sized breasts, round and full, and tipped with pink.
Jess wants to take them in her mouth immediately, but she's still not sure if Kathleen is truly ready for this. She says she is, and her body is ready, but Jess can tell that there's still a certain amount of misgivings involved.
"Do you want me to stop?" she asks, very carefully laying the tank aside. It's something to do with her hands besides what she really wants to do with them, which is cup each breast and test its weight, its firmness.
"No," Kathleen says, shaking her head, hair falling loose from its ponytail, long strands falling forward to frame her face.
"I'm not going to stop," Jess tells her then. "After this, you have to say something if you don't want me to go on."
"Go on; it's fine," Kathleen says. She reaches up and slides both hands down Jess's face. She brings her hands down, to Jess's slim waist, and lifts the hem of her shirt.
Jess thinks that maybe Kathleen does want to be the one to undress her, but her movements are still tentative, unsure; she's on board with the idea but still new to the execution, which is fine with Jess.
A strand of her own hair falls into her eyes and she blows it out of her face, covering Kathleen's hands and then, crossing her arms, yanks her shirt over her head.
She's not dressed for bed yet, so she still has a bra on: it's red with black lace, and Jess has matching panties on underneath her jeans. She wonders what Kathleen thinks about it--is she the type of woman to care whether the girl she's sleeping with has sexy lingerie on, or is she more practical and mundane, and just wants to get to the prize beneath?
Again, lured into dangerous territory, Jess veers away from those thoughts, from trying to understand or get close to someone she's not going to know very long.
She stretches her arms behind her and unhooks the bra. Jess isn't shy, and she's not ashamed of her body; her breasts are bigger than Kathleen's, but Kathleen's are more nicely shaped and perkier, so Jess isn't really feeling particularly egotistical at the moment.
Jess realises she hasn't taken this much time to just absorb things like this in a long while. Maybe since the last time she slept with Jo, she's not sure; taking inventory of Kathleen, of herself, and finding that Kathleen really does blow most of the girls she's fucked out of the water, makes her tingle.
Anticipation really can make the payoff that much sweeter and more explosive, and generally Jess just doesn't have the time. But right now, she does. The case can wait till morning, she doesn't have to be anywhere, and Kathleen is in her own house in her own bed.
No parents to interrupt them, no ghosts or whatever to come after Jess, just the two of them, getting naked and getting it on.
God, it makes Jess so wet just thinking of the fact that she doesn't have to rush.
She helps Kathleen out of her pajama pants and the white bikini panties she's wearing. She must do it with a certain amount of practised skill, because Kathleen watches her, then speaks.
"Do you do this often?"
Jess, in the process of straddling Kathleen again, pauses and gives her a considering look.
"No, not that often," she lies. Everything, every day, is always a lie; Jess has no choice. The names she gives, the stories she tells, the profession she claims to own at any given time: all lies. "I had a steady girlfriend for a long time," Jess says, as if imparting a secret she's never told anyone before.
"What happened?" Kathleen asks, even as she grows bolder, cupping Jess's breasts and lifting them in her hands. Jess shivers; he nipples go taut and aching.
"It didn't work out," Jess says quietly. This much, at least, is true. She lies carefully down on top of Kathleen, hands on Kathleen's shoulders, bellies pressed together, breasts crushed against each other. She angles her head and kisses Kathleen again, slow and searching, deep and breath-taking.
Kathleen's body is hot underneath hers, sweat prickling against Jess's skin. Her body is relaxing, and Jess doesn't have to put her hand between Kathleen's legs to know that she's swelling, dampening, opening up.
But she slips a hand between them and does it anyway, gratified and totally hot at the way Kathleen's body parts easily for her fingers.
Kathleen lets out a breathless gasp which separates their lips, and her head lolls back, exposing her neck.
Jess tugs her fingers free and grasps Kathleen's hip, smearing her wetness on her skin, and sits up again and then lowers her head to Kathleen's breasts. One of those things she doesn't get to concentrate on that often, Jess finally has a chance to set to the task of kissing and licking Kathleen's breasts.
It's one of those things she loves doing, but usually falls to the wayside because she's in a hurry, taking time out for only a quick fuck instead of a more leisurely one. Not that Kathleen knows that, though.
She positions the flat of her tongue on the round upswell of one breast, curling it until she's touching Kathleen's nipple with the tip of her tongue.
Then, twirling her tongue around her nipple, she sucks it into her mouth, closing her lips around it gently. She continues to tease it with her tongue, enjoying the way it pebbles up hard, pushing up into her mouth, and she very carefully bares her teeth and tugs on it.
Kathleen makes another gasping, panting moan and writhes underneath Jess; enough so that she has to put a hand on Kathleen's belly to help keep her still.
Her stomach is slippery with her sweat, and Jess laves at her nipple with her tongue for a few seconds longer before switching off, turning her attention to the other one.
Kathleen's fingers wind into her hair, pulling it a little as Jess covers the abandoned breast with her hand and kneads it gently as she continues to suck at the other.
"Oh," Kathleen moans, and Jess figures that she's doing it right, and finds herself curious as to whether Kathleen's last experience with another girl was any good.
Hell, Jess does this often, but she still doesn't really know if she's any good at it.
But she likes to think that she is.
Jess lifts her head, mouth wet with saliva, and licks her lips, then sucks the bottom one into her mouth. There's sweat cold against the overheated skin at her temples, dripping slowly, torturously down her face, until Kathleen opens those amazing blue eyes and sees that; she untangles her fingers from Jess's hair and wipes the sweat away with her palms.
Jess skims her hands up and down Kathleen's sides, brushing quickly the outsides of her breasts, then settling on her hips; Jess inches down the bed until she's level with Kathleen's navel, and then she begins to kiss her. Soft, fluttery, barely-there presses of her lips across the satiny skin of Kathleen's belly.
Kathleen's ab muscles flutter under her mouth, and Jess finds in between her legs again, stuffing her fingers back in without giving Kathleen any warning--she knows from her own experience that a sudden, unexpected thrust can feel amazingly good.
Kathleen, as if proving this to be true, cants her hips up, soaks Jess's fingers, and pants noisily.
Jess works two fingers in and out, bending them at the knuckles and pressing them against the sweet spot deep inside; Kathleen continues to moan and her body moves restlessly under Jess, pushing back against Jess's fingers.
And then she does something startling: she speaks, and what she says is remarkable.
"There's a vibrator in the chest of drawers."
Jess raises her head to look at her, and there's a fine blush on her cheeks as if drawn there by an artist. Kathleen bites the corner of her lip.
"I live alone," she explains simply, and Jess nods. It's not that she doesn't know about sex toys or that she's never used them, she just wasn't quite expecting Kathleen to own one.
But in a way, as Kathleen said, it makes sense. She probably doesn't have another person to do this with all that often, if the stamp of loneliness that hangs in her house is any indication--and Jess is pretty sure it is.
Jess leans down, kisses her lips quickly, and then pulls her fingers out and hops down from the bed. Once down there, she wipes her hand on her jeans and takes a moment to kick out of them and her panties, then opens the top drawer.
"Under the pink socks," Kathleen says, and Jess has to fight a grin. Kathleen just didn't strike her as the type to have pink socks, so maybe this is the only reason why.
She lifts up the pink socks and finds the silver bullet vibrator nestled beneath; she takes it out and tests it, and the batteries are apparently still good as it buzzes to life.
She climbs back onto the bed and places the vibrator--turned off again now--on the mattress next to Kathleen's hip. And then she grips the inside of each thigh and spreads her legs wider; Kathleen assists her by moving her legs easily.
Jess picks up the vibrator again and positions it at the apex of Kathleen's sex, moving it so it slides the little hood out of the way and then she turns it on, barely touching Kathleen.
But Kathleen knows what she likes, because she immediately says, "Harder. Press down more."
It'd be too much sensation for Jess, but despite the fact that she has an advantage at this because she has the same equipment, she does know not all women are the same or enjoy the same things.
So she pushes down, and Kathleen's legs lock up, thigh muscles taut as guitar strings, and yells. From somewhere else in the house, the dog howls.
It doesn't seem to make Kathleen shy though, not any more. Now she's clearly loving every second of Jess pleasuring her, and Jess twists the vibrator a little, moving it ever-so-slightly until Kathleen's moans get more and more urgent and pronounced.
Her voice is rising in pitch, and her body is trembling under Jess like a bomb set to go off.
In a way, she is; Jess turns the vibrator again and pushes in with it, and just like that Kathleen shouts again, body wracked with tremors, and Jess holds the vibrator in place with one hand while she shoves her fingers into Kathleen's body with the other.
Kathleen's muscles are clenching fiercely, and she's dripping wet down along Jess's wrist now; Jess fucks her with her fingers even as she keeps the vibrator relentlessly on Kathleen.
Finally, she gasps a protest: "Oh, God, stop!"
Jess flicks the vibrator away and into the palm of her hand, shutting it off and silencing it. The room, too, blares with silence broken only by Kathleen's wrecked breaths.
Her body is still shaking and trembling, and Jess slides her fingers free again; Kathleen's lips part and Jess, not even sure if it's an invitation or not, goes for it.
She pushes her fingers, damp from Kathleen's body, into her mouth, and Kathleen licks at them until they're clean.
When Jess withdraws her fingers, Kathleen is smiling a little.
"Your turn," is all she really needs to say, before Jess is collapsing onto her back, ready to see what Kathleen has to offer.
Later, lying close in the bed, Kathleen fingers Jess's blond hair and takes a deep breath. Jess is staring up at the darkened ceiling, thinking about things better left alone to lie in darkness, when Kathleen begins to speak softly.
"My brother is one of those that went missing," she murmurs. The room is hushed and and the air is charged with the telling of secrets. "He was one of the first. The investigation back then was only opened because I insisted. The station didn't really want to look any further into it until three more people had gone missing, and by then a lot of the leads from my brother's disappearance had dried up."
"I'm so sorry," Jess says, rolling towards her and putting her palm on Kathleen's bare shoulder.
Kathleen shrugs the other shoulder. "You didn't cause it. But we were close. He was living with me for the time being. He'd just come off a bad relationship and he'd come back home. He'd only been here a few weeks when he just vanished." She pauses, voice obviously wobbling, then goes on. "I always felt like it was my fault somehow. Both that it had happened, and that I had never been able to find him."
"I doubt it's your fault," Jess whispers. "In fact, I am quite sure it wasn't."
Kathleen sniffles, and Jess touches her damp cheek, smudging the tears there.
"Maybe not," Kathleen says, "but things will never be the same." She tugs Jess closer. "Thank you for this."
Jess huddles against her, sharing body warmth and trying to be compassionate--and she does care--but she knows that very soon, she's going to blow out of town the way she came in, and Kathleen will be left wondering about her, as well.
part three! -->