Bridgette Peoples thought that when death came, it would be quick—the slam of steel and metal, brakes screaming, burnt rubber steaming on the pavement, a searing fire. But she was wrong.
* * *
Jette drove her cars fast and liked her women even faster. She loved it when they curled into her body on hairpin turns, trembling in fear at the quick downshift and the feral snarl on her lips. She didn’t believe in a speed limit.
“Slow down, Jette,” her date squeaked from the passenger seat. The girl’s long brown legs were taut against the floor as if searching for the brakes to stop the 1968 Shelby GT 350 Mustang convertible herself. Still, her breath came quickly and her nipples were hard against the thin cotton shirt.
“It’s alright, honey.” Jette called them ‘honey’ because she always forgot their names. “I know what I’m doing.”
The speedometer inched up to ninety-five and the girl’s legs widened. Jette grinned. It was almost time. Wind pounded into the open convertible from all sides. When a soft whimper of fear leaked from the girl’s mouth, the car reached one hundred. The coastline beyond the Mustang was a blur of trees, electric sky, and blue-green water. Jette abruptly dropped into fourth gear. Then third. In a whirlwind of gravel and sand, she stopped the car. Suddenly it was just her and the honey. The growl of the Mustang’s engine and the girl’s rapid breath kicked her pulse into overdrive. Jette could smell the girl.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” She wasn’t. Jette went for her, climbing over to the passenger seat. The girl met her halfway, lips parted, wet, and ready; her hands already sliding under Jette’s leather jacket. Long legs opened to receive and Jette’s fingers slipped quickly between them, past the barrier of shorts and panties to bury themselves in paradise. With her other hand, she shoved the seat back, giving herself more room to move. The girl squirmed, gasped, panted as Jette tongued her nipples through the white cloth, bathing the straining flesh beneath. The windows fogged. Jette’s clit throbbed harder with every gasp the girl released, with each pull of the girl’s wetness on her fingers. The honey’s bare thighs trembled. Her hips bucked in the sweat-slick leather seats and her naked foot slid against the windshield in quick, staccato squeaks.
“Let it go, honey,” Jette hissed.
The girl flung her head back and howled at the sun. Twenty minutes later, Jette dropped her off and sped away in a blur of blue.
* * *
A week later found Jette back at the same overlook, only this time she was alone. Just her and the sea. The pounding surf below echoed the unfamiliar quiet in her blood. She hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. Something in a waking dream had kept her up and eventually brought her back to the cliffs to brood under a sky that was on fire with the last colors of the sunset. The wind flung her thick black hair before her eyes like a veil. A full moon already hovered, ashen and ripe, ready to take its place among the stars.
Beneath the sounds of the wind and surf, Jette heard footsteps. She turned and her breath stopped. To say that the woman, her sudden companion on this stretch of lonely road, was pretty would have been an insult. She had the round, soft face of innocence, but her mouth was a dark slash of color, like drying blood, against her mocha skin. Jette drew in a deep breath just to make sure that she could. She acknowledged the woman’s slow smile with one of her own. The stranger was all softness and warm breeze in a blue dress the color of the Mustang. Her dress was loose, but the wind molded it to her body, giving Jette an unrestricted view of full breasts with their crown of wide nipples, the gentle round of belly and honey thick thighs framing the delicate V of her womanhood. But this was no mere honey. She was like silk unfolding on a breeze, a teasing whisper of sound and graceful motion.
Jette’s world narrowed to the vision walking toward her. Sunset, full moon, and not another soul in sight. She licked her lips. What a treat this was. She expected the woman to go straight for the car, to ooh and ahh over the butter-soft leather interior, the sleek classic lines, maybe beg her to put the top down so they could watch the sunset from the Mustang’s cozy interior. But she walked past the car, smiling.
“You must get a lot of pussy with this car.”
Jette smiled. “I do all right.”
“Hm. I bet you do.” Still watching Jette, the woman walked backwards until her thighs pressed into the Mustang’s hood. The woman closed her eyes. The breeze ruffled her dress, lifting it away from her dimpled knees. “I’m Luna.”
Below them, sunset-colored waves flung themselves at the cliffs. The moist spray flicked against Jette’s face, wetting her mouth and cheeks.
“So, Bridgette, have you ever been…taken?” Luna asked without opening her eyes.
Jette looked closely at Luna. She hadn’t been called that name in a long time, and certainly never by someone she’d just met. “Do I know you?”
“No, but you will.” Luna opened one amber-flecked eye. “Are you going to answer my question?”
For a moment, Jette was tempted to tell her to fuck off. But a stronger part of her wanted to know where this conversation was going. “No. I’ve never been fucked. And I don’t want to be.” She frowned, not quite sure that she wanted to answer any more personal questions from this stranger, although she had asked that question of many strange women. Just before making a home inside their bodies for her fingers or tongue.
“The old saying is true, you know,” Luna murmured. Her gaze was lazy, but watchful. “You never know what you’re missing until you try it.”
“Usually I’d agree with you. But not in this instance. Not when it’s about me getting fucked.”
“So you’re going to stick with what you know? Fucking girls in your fast car then peeling out at 110 miles just to get back to your lonely little apartment?” Luna propped herself up on her elbows and watched Jette with amused eyes. “Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
“Then you obviously haven’t tried it.” Jette grinned.
“I’ve experienced something like it.” The woman bared her own teeth. “You feed on their fear and turn it into lust. You’re no better than a leech, or a vampire.” Luna didn’t sound judgmental. Simply like she was stating a fact.
Suddenly uneasy, Jette shrugged and turned around to squint into the darkening distance. She didn’t see anything wrong with what she did with these women as long as both of them got off and nobody got hurt. She turned back to face Luna. But the woman was gone.
“Damn!”
The faint outline of her body, drawn in mist and steam, lingered on the hood of the Mustang. Jette leaned back against the car and tilted her head at the horizon. The colors of the setting sun had lost their appeal. Instead, a vision of Luna, soft and full, burned brightly in her mind’s eye like the afterimage of a too-bright flame.
* * *
Jette was dropping off one of her latest thrills when she spotted Luna, full hipped and gorgeous in a pale dress. In the midst of the hectic early Saturday evening foot and street traffic, she strolled, swinging her ass and the tiny nothing of a bag that seemed attached to her fingers by air alone. No one shoved her, no one pushed against her. She floated. Jette quickly parked the Mustang and caught up with the woman. Luna turned. She seemed not at all surprised to see her.
“Was she any good?” She gestured behind them to the girl Jette had just left behind.
“Well, I was. So we had a good time.”
Luna chuckled. Her laugh was a delicate ripple that floated along Jette’s skin. “I’m sure she’ll be back for more,” she said.
“Maybe, but I won’t be there. I never perform the same trick twice.”
“Cold little bitch, aren’t you?”
“Not in the least. I’m hot. All the time.” Jette’s eyes ran over Luna’s body, lingering on its bold curves and the dip and rise of what she quickly realized was an amazing ass. “Especially when you’re around.”
Luna’s laughter was slightly mocking. “You look good, Bridgette. But you’re not quite as good as you think you are. Don’t try to handle me like one of your girls, because you won’t be able to.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jette said, though she did. Intensely. After she’d met Luna for the first time, her nights had been filled with visions of the voluptuous woman. Hot dreams of heavy breasts and excited hips, Luna calling her name, gasping that she’d never had it so good. But even as Luna had moved like a puppet through Jette’s fantasies, the small woman’s dark eyes had glowed feral in the bedroom light, her lips parted over sharp teeth.
Her eyes flickered over Luna’s body again only to encounter a dark, knowing look.
“Know what you’re asking for, Bridgette. Isn’t that what you always tell your little girls? Know that you’ll never be the same afterwards.” They stopped in the midst of the crowd. People flowed past, barely stopping to acknowledge them on the crowded sidewalk. Everyone was high on the goodwill of a Friday night, no more work for another two days, and possibilities pranced around in high heels and tight shirts. Why worry about something so insignificant as an amorous couple standing in the middle of the crowded sidewalk?
Luna pressed an open palm to Jette’s belly, inciting a riot of tiny butterflies under the skin. “Think of me the next time you fuck one of your girls. Wonder what it would be like to let someone else drive for a change.” The fingers started to move, stroking the flesh under Jette’s jacket. “The one thing you wouldn’t have to wonder about is how it would feel.” Nails scraped the suddenly sensitive skin and Jette felt her pussy perk up and begin to salivate. “I would be very good to you.” Luna drew back and began to walk forward again through the crowd. “But let me know what you think about my offer,” she threw over her shoulder.
What offer? Jette wondered, still drowning in the sudden and immediate arousal spiraling under her skin and the river rushing beyond control between her thighs.
“I want you, Bridgette. When you’re ready for me, if you’re ready for me, I’ll come.” And without seeming to, her steps picked up speed until she disappeared altogether.
Jette wasn’t pleased. She tried to follow Luna, but quickly realized that was impossible. She had been dismissed. After a half-hearted attempt to pick up someone else on the strip, she headed back home.
* * *
Jette couldn’t concentrate. Luna was the throbbing engine that drove her obsessive visits to the cliffs and to downtown Long Beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. Other women, no matter how tasty, couldn’t take the power of her memory away. When Jette’s fingers found them wet and wanting, it was Luna’s mocking face she saw. When the women’s mouths touched her throbbing pussy, Jette heard Luna’s low, taunting voice.
Jette almost gave up on finding Luna; but she didn’t have to. Luna found her first.
Walking up to the car after an unsatisfying stroll on the strip, Jette nearly jumped out of her skin when a dark head poked from the open window of the Mustang.
“Hey, sugar.” Luna’s sweet jasmine scent touched her face.
Relief pushed aside Jette’s caution. She didn’t even bother to ask Luna how she got into the locked and alarmed car. “Where do you want to go?”
“Down to the beach.” Luna’s teeth glinted in the darkness. “Near the cliffs.”
They cruised down the boulevard, top down despite the rain-heavy gray clouds that floated above their heads. At the beach, Jette nosed the car past a high gate and down to a ramp leading to the water. Waves crawled up the beach, lapping at the Mustang’s tires.
Luna touched Jette’s thigh. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
“And you wanted to be found?”
“More or less.” Luna’s smile turned playful. “So now that you’ve found me, what are you going to do?”
Jette wasn’t used to all this talking. The other woman’s bright smile intimidated her, started a shiver of fear in her belly that she’d never known before. It felt good.
“Let’s go for a walk.” Jette opened the car door.
They made it as far as the hood of the Mustang before the rain started. They stopped and stood under the cool shower, watching each other. Silver droplets caught in Luna’s eyelashes and traced the full curve of her mouth.
“What do you want, Adrenaline Girl?”
“You tell me,” Jette said. “Aren’t you the one who’s sure that she knows what I want and how I want it?”
Luna chuckled again and stepped closer. Jette’s skin tingled in anticipation. Her world slowed, tilted until the warm hood of the Mustang was under her back. She closed her eyes. Rain danced against her mouth, streamed down her face and into her hair.
Luna moved over her, shielding Jette from the rain. “I have exactly what you want right here.”
She tasted like a well-aged merlot, wet and soft, with a touch of oak and cardamom. Rain blinded Jette again as Luna moved away. She felt a hungry mouth nuzzling her throat, the delightful slide of the woman’s tongue on her skin.
The pain. It blossomed gently under the hothouse mouth. Jette gasped and swallowed rain, eyes fluttering, blinking quickly under the steady drops. It felt like she was losing her virginity again. Pleasure slowly obliterated the pain. Jette’s hands hooked in Luna’s hair, holding her against her throat, pressing the greedy mouth into her skin. Her body was wet from the inside out, spreading and softening under Luna’s hands.
Deft fingers floated over Jette’s belly, down to the zipper of her slacks. Luna opened her body, slid inside its welcoming heat. Her pussy clenched and sucked the fingers deeper. That’s when Jette felt it, a vibration like the roaring of the Mustang as it slid into third gear. Jette’s body trembled under the soft hand, then shook, then shuddered before finally coming to rest.
Luna slowly pulled away. “Now,” she said. “What can you do for me?” Her eyes glowed like headlights through the rain.
“I thought I already did it?” Jette touched her own throat, felt the rawness there. Her voice trembled. She knew exactly what had just happened. The part that most concerned her was that she’d let someone else do the driving. She said as much to her new lover.
Luna laughed, husky and low. “You are worth keeping.”
* * *
Jette once thought that death would come quickly. But now she knew better. Death was languorous and sweet, perfuming the air with the scent of blood and woman and jasmine. Death came at night, lingering over Jette’s throat and thighs with a hunter’s patience, drinking her fill, taking everything that Jette was or ever knew. Slowly.