Extreme Sensitivity… as a never-ending state of being. – A Women’s Murder Club Series, part 25

TITLE: Extreme Sensitivity… as a never-ending state of being. (24/?)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Women’s Murder Club does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. (Well, not anymore. Jackasses.) I have no problems with that as long as I can borrow them for short bursts and use them in pursuit of my own enjoyment. I am not trying to infringe. Though, I don’t know why anyone has a problem with fan fic. After all, it really is a compliment. If anyone wants to write fan fiction about my book, feel free.

*You’ve probably given up on this story, since it’s been like six months since I lasted updated it. What can I say? Time moves slower in my realm.*

(Lindsay’s POV)

“I cannot believe that you locked me out of the bathroom!” Lindsay’s disbelief intensified with every syllable. Her shock hadn’t worn off in the least, despite the number of times she had voiced Cindy’s offense. Even being alone with Cindy in the middle of a particularly entrancing field that looked straight out of a painting did little to lift her spirits from her earlier defeat.

“If you hadn’t tried to come in, you wouldn’t have even known,” Cindy reasoned, much to Lindsay’s chagrin.

“I had to pee.” Lindsay was quite proud of the fact that her tone was almost convincing. “When I’m old and have poor bladder control, what you have done today is going to guilt you into an early grave.”

“I doubt it seriously. More like what I haven’t done is going to torture me into an early grave,” Cindy returned, grinning lazily down at Lindsay before leaning over and planting an unhurried kiss on shamelessly eager lips.

Cindy slid down beside her on the blanket, and Lindsay heard an empty food container get kicked as Cindy’s warm body pressed against her side. It was both divine and torturous, but Lindsay lacked the mental clarity to decide which one of those things it was more. Slow fingers danced up her abdomen, lazy patterns tempting her to the kind of animalistic reaction that causes one to tackle her hot girlfriend and have her in the midst of a surprise orgasm before she even realizes she should be objecting to the public location and the fact that you’ve just achieved a major ‘Fail’ in the romance department.

With that in mind, and deciding she wasn’t ready to have any failing marks on her permanent record just yet, Lindsay scrambled for some willpower, though she couldn’t quite find the determination to physically remove Cindy’s wayward hand.

“What are you doing?” she husked instead.

“What’s it feel like?”

The tone of Cindy’s voice, halfway between joking and seduction, was almost as effective as the index finger circling Lindsay’s belly button.

“It feels cruel. You’re the one who said our first time couldn’t be in the middle of a field. I was good with it.”

“Maybe I’m having second thoughts about that whole ‘Our first time can’t be in the middle of a field’ thing.”

“Are you?” Lindsay breathlessly questioned, though it sounded more like a plea.

“The way I figure it, at this rate, I may not live long enough to have sex with you if I don’t just take you now.”

The softly spoken declaration gave Lindsay such a full-body jolt, if Cindy had given any indication of it at all she would have sworn there was a small earthquake.

“We’ve waited this long. We shouldn’t have our first time be in the middle of a field,” Lindsay stated. Even to her own ears, she didn’t sound particularly convincing. Maybe because she wasn’t particularly trying to convince.

“We shouldn’t?” Cindy asked innocently enough, though her fingers dipped dangerously below Lindsay’s waistband.

“No,” Lindsay cursed her shaking voice.

“I probably shouldn’t do this then,” Cindy snapped open the button on Lindsay’s jeans.

“Cindy-”

Before she could argue, as if she could actually find the strength to argue, Cindy’s hand wrapped around the back of her neck and Cindy’s lips were stifling any debate.

She tried, she did. She put forth her best effort to stop the course of events, but, as putty as she’d become beneath Cindy’s fiercely tender kisses and Cindy’s hand, now making its way back up her abdomen and over her ribcage, her best effort was little more than a moan. And it sounded a hell of a lot more like permission than protest.

Before she really comprehended that she’d become an active participant, Lindsay had both hands full of red hair and was endeavoring to swallow Cindy’s tongue. Cindy didn’t seem the least bit averse to the quasi-cannibalism. In fact, she offered it up so willingly, it was as if she’d salted it and served it up on a plate.

Pulling away to breathe a little too late, Lindsay shook away the light-headedness and dove back in like she was starving. It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate analogy.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to be having this sex in their nice hotel room on the soft, luxuriously appointed bed. But it was still Cindy and it all felt astonishingly right.

The wind rustled through the tall grass.

Seagulls cried overhead.

Cindy’s cell phone rudely interrupted.

As if her hand were radar–equipped, Lindsay found Cindy’s phone on first grab. She was about to give it a forceful flinging into oblivion when Cindy’s hand covered hers, rescuing the phone from its intended fate.

Cindy breathlessly pulled away and Lindsay was pinned with a look, the meaning of which was unmistakable. ‘I know you just didn’t.’

Lindsay felt a little less scolded when Cindy at least growled at the phone before answering it.

“Get lost in the hotel?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound normal. There was a silent moment in which Cindy rolled her eyes and looked so aggravated, Lindsay couldn’t hold back her laugh, which in turn drew a smile from Cindy, which in turn made Lindsay want to eliminate Cindy’s cell phone from existence again. “I have a sexy cop girlfriend. What do you think I’m doing?”

Lindsay smiled, but when Cindy looked her way with a sad smile of her own, Lindsay knew very well that they were officially back on hold.

“Really?” Cindy asked with fake surprise, though Ryan was probably buying it. “I must have mixed up the lists. Well, did you get anything new from any of them?”

Cindy grimaced at whatever Ryan said next and fought another eye roll.

“We’ll be right there,” she finally ended the call, looking at Lindsay regretfully. “If we’re not back in twenty minutes, she’s calling my boss.”

Buttoning her jeans where Cindy had gotten frisky, Lindsay suppressed a sigh and gave her disheartened girlfriend a quick kiss. “Luckily, there are some things I actually do fast.”

Before either of them could change their mind, she jumped up and pulled Cindy to her feet.