Disclaimers: I must acknowledge Dashiell Hammett and his creation, The Thin Man which became a series of fabulous detective movies in the 1930's. There is no intent to infringe on the copyright of this series or the characters that inspired the ones in this story. Ubers have the advantage of not having to disclaim Renaissance and XWP, but then I went and threw in The Thin Man, so what can you do??

Love/Sexual Content Warning: This story contains fairly explicit sexual content between consenting same-sexed partners. It also presents love, and physical expression of that love, between two women without apology. If this offends you, you don’t have to read it, you’ve been warned. If you are not 18 years of age, or live in a State where this is not legal, please do not read it. Personally, I’d consider moving as well, but I’m sure you’re heard that before.

You may not copy, fold, spindle, or mutilate this story nor post elsewhere without the author’s consent.
For those of you still with me, enjoy!

From the curb, the hotel doorman and guests waiting for the valet to return their cars, saw a white Porsche pull up headed against the traffic. The driver’s door cracked open and all they saw were legs; lean, long, muscled, tan legs that went on forever. As the legs stood on feet nestled into simple pumps, their eyes traveled up with wistful disappointment to see the legs disappear under a fitted blue skirt with a teasing slit up one thigh. Soft silk that matched bloused around her form with a neckline that showed a hint of cleavage. No longer disappointed, their eyes settled as one on a face with full lips, a chiseled nose, high cheek bones, eyelashes seemingly as long as her legs, and pale blue eyes that startled you with their intensity and aliveness. She paused long enough to slip on her jacket reminiscent of a 1940's style, pulling her raven hair out of the collar and needing no shoulder pads to fill it out. She then handed the valet the keys and walked through the door being held open for her with a smile that weakened the knees, and made every man and woman standing near wish it was directed at them.

The hotel lobby was packed. A convention was in town, and this hotel was adjacent to the convention center. Heads turned to watch as she made her way through the crowd to the small bar. When she entered, a heavy black man in his 50's smiled with the joy of a child. He was holding a handkerchief and a sax mouthpiece in one hand and extended the other to her.
“Nic! You’re a sight for sore eyes! I didn’t know you were in town.”

All around the room, eyes crinkled or widened. So her name was Nic!

“Sam,” Nic walked in past his extended hand and hugged him. “Are you playing here tonight? Great. I’ve missed hearing you for too long.”

“That’s the truth. I haven’t seen you since we played at the Biscuit & Blues in the City. How are you, baby? I hear you got hitched. Never thought I’d see the day somebody tamed you.”

“Yup, been tame awhile now, Sam. Her name’s Nora.” she said with a small, self-conscious smirk. “You’ll have to meet her, but uh, she didn’t make this trip with me. I think she might join me in a day or two. I’d love for you to get to know her. How’s Millie?”

Sam beamed his unpretentious grin again. “Oh baby, you know how she is... she’s why I play the blues, and she owns my heart. Twenty-seven years next month. And I’ve got a surprise for ya, that boy over there on the guitar playing with all that soul...... that’s my baby, Michael. Just wait til you hear him bend those strings.”

“That handsome man can’t be related to you, Sam. Millie must have had some good-looking guy on the side.” she teased as she squeezed his hand. “I’ll go get a seat at the bar and let you and your progeny work your magic on me, my friend.”

Sam nodded and smiled as he turned back to the stage area. He talked quietly and chuckled with his son as he fitted his mouthpiece back into the sax and turned to the other 3 musicians before they started to play. Nic worked her way over to the bar and found a seat off to one side where she could watch the room. As she glanced out over the heads, many of them who had been watching her quickly turned back to their own business, embarrassed to be caught staring. She ordered a martini and sat back to enjoy the melody being woven by her friend.

Music and gin began to weave through her head after her second martini, and her gaze wandered to the other end of the bar, settling on a vision in green. She openly stared at the blonde young woman, dressed in a dark green shift with spaghetti straps, that fit closely to her body. Nic’s eyes wandered appreciatively over that body and she wished for the first time in 3 years that she wasn’t in a committed relationship. Surprised to find herself having such thoughts, she looked down at her drink and swirled it as if the images of the blonde would fade away as she downed it and asked for another.

When she looked up again, the vision was looking straight at her, though quickly broke off and looked down, fiddling with the napkin under her drink. As Nicole watched, the blonde looked up at her again from under wispy bangs, and then acknowledging her gaze, broke into a full smile that tightened something in Nic’s chest making it hard to breath. The blonde, seeing her advantage seemingly floated over and stood grinning.

“Quite a dress.” Nic croaked out, unable to stop herself.

“Thank you. I was admiring how well you wear clothes yourself. I’d like to design for you.” the blonde said with a soft french accent.

“Design? Just what do you design?” Nic was drawn in, in spite of herself.

“Well, I did design this dress you’ve been admiring, but usually I design lingerie.” She purred. She tilted her head towards the empty seat next to Nic, who was helpless to send her away. She slid into the chair.

“Strange thing for a woman to design who obviously isn’t wearing any under that dress.” Nic’s heart had finally eased back out of her throat and she thought she might enjoy this woman’s company.

“I design and wear what the occasion calls for, and I think I’m dressed just right for this one.”

Nic found her mouth to be extremely dry at that remark, and though it was uncharacteristically cowardly, she drained her glass rather than attempt to reply.

“Angelina,” she said in the same soft accent, “in case you were wondering.”

Nic leaned on the bar and tried not to think of her partner back at home. “Somehow I didn’t quite picture you as the angel type.” She was treated to a knowing grin in response and heard alarm bells in her head telling her she was in trouble.

A group of women entered the bar across the room and stopped as they looked for a table. In the center of the group was a tall woman with curly brown hair, a brown leather bomber jacket and glasses. She lifted her head in acknowledgment as someone waved them over to join them. Nic tracked them with her eyes, then was drawn back to the woman in front of her. Sam was singing, “I gotta find me a part-time love.......” and she shook her head and sighed. “You want to dance?”

Angelina gave her a half smile and offered up her hand to be led to the small dance floor. Every eye in the place watched them with heart-felt appreciation as they swayed to the music, their bodies in sync. Slow, small movements, eyes locked together; Nic knew she was lost and only hoped she’d be forgiven because this woman was a force of nature. She couldn’t resist her, didn’t want to resist her. She’d felt the soul resonance as soon as she’d laid eyes on her, and on the dance floor she surrendered. She leaned forward so their bodies were almost touching and mirrored Angelina’s movements, her breathing and soul caught in the rhythm. Sam looked on from his vantage point, and shook his head. He understood the valleys and peaks of long term marriages, and began to play “The Thrill Is Gone.”

Angelina slipped her arms around Nic’s neck drawing them into a light embrace. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling the Thrill.” She chuckled deep in her throat and breathed more than spoke into Nic’s ear, “I want you.” And then gently nipped her earlobe as she pulled back slightly.

“What, not even dinner first?” Nic said to disguise the moan that leapt up from her throat, though she couldn’t disguise the flush to her skin that the words had evoked.

“After.” was all her companion would say, as her fingers played on her neck, driving her crazy.

It took a long moment, but Nic stopped and stepped back from the woman who was so successfully seducing her. “Thank you, but, um..... I better go.” and she turned away and headed for the door.

Angelina stood flushed and perplexed on the dance floor and muttered under her breath, “I don’t even know her name.” To which several couples around her whispered in unison, “It’s Nic.” Startled, she looked around at the now embarrassed couples, then laughing at herself and the situation, she hurried out of the club after her.

She found her standing in the January night air, leaning against a pillar, light steam rising from her jacket-less form. She looked up as Angelina approached and smirked, “It got a little hot in there.”

“I’m thinking that’s not an uncommon occurrence around you.” said the blonde easing herself onto the railing connected to the pillars.

“Well, this is uncommon.” she said referencing the attraction between. “I, um, ..”

Angelina was not wanting her to finish that sentence “I saw your ring...... It is for me too, but I saw you and there was just something..... some pull....... some...... fit.......I don’t want to think about it too much, do you?”

“No. No, I don’t want to think. What I want is to kiss you.” Nic said as she leaned over and did just that. Their lips meeting lightly drew the breath from her lungs, as Angelina’s hands slid up her sides and around to her back drawing her in. Lost, she was lost, as she caressed the lip between hers with her tongue, then kissed her more firmly. She moaned as hands teased up and down her back and lips nibbled hers, then moved to her ear, caressing with her tongue, leaving tingles in the cold night air that contrasted with the heat everywhere else.

Angelina whispered in a throaty voice, “I have a room.” then melded her body to Nic’s in a full embrace, pulling her head down to her, she sucked lightly on her upper lip and then pulled her gently in the direction of the hotel. Nic followed in a daze.

She remembered getting into an elevator, a private one that went to the penthouse. She remembered leaning against the doors as Angelina kissed her, and her hands on the sides of her breasts. She remembered the feel of her hands on Angelina’s bottom as she pulled her into her and kissed her harder, and almost falling out as the elevator doors opened. Angelina broke away, breathing hard, and looked once over her shoulder, then pulled out the card to open her rooms.

Angelina led them across the living room to a large bedroom with a four poster bed complete with canopy. Nic reached for her again and was stopped by her outstretched hands, “No... no,” Angelina whispered, “slow.” as she stepped forward and cupped Nic’s cheek in her hand, then slid her hand down the brunette’s body, lightly over breasts and to her waistband where she tugged Nic’s blouse out of the skirt and pulled it over her head. “Hmm, one of my competitors, but lovely on you nonetheless,” she commented as she loosened her bra and tossed it aside. “You realize I’ll have to get well enough acquainted that I can design something custom,” as she ran her hands over impatient breasts.


“You’re already better acquainted than your competitor,” her voice catching in her throat as thumbs rubbed lightly over her nipples. “Do you always give such personal fittings?”

“The secret of my success.......” as she unzipped Nic’s skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

“Take this off.” Nic instructed, fingering a spaghetti strap. “Let me see you.”

Angelina stepped back slightly and eased a strap off one shoulder, then the other, and sliding down the side zipper, let the dress fall.

Nic stood transfixed for a moment, watching the flush spread from Angelina’s neck down, over mounds and curves that she longed to touch. Realizing that she could do just that, she wrapped her arms around her, bringing their bodies together. Somehow they managed to hold each other up as they kissed, four knees too weak on their own, hands wandering over newly uncovered skin. Nic eased them down onto the bed, nearly swooning as their tongues danced together. All thoughts but this woman, here, now, were driven from her consciousness.

Stretched out on her side, legs intertwined, she caressed Angelina with a slow, soft touch growing more intimate and more needful. Angelina’s hands were not idle as she pressed against Nic’s thigh, urging more contact. They rocked together slowly as Nic savored her neck, drawing moans from Angelina as she sucked and teased her way down the blonde’s body. Angelina arched and bucked trying to increase the pressure. Pleasantly frustrated, she pushed herself up from the bed and rolled Nicole onto her back. Nic chuckled knowingly as Angelina straddled her hips so she could control the pressure and friction, her breasts swaying hypnotically, setting a pace. Angelina hissed, eyes closed involuntarily, as Nic fondled her breasts.

“I want to touch you,” Nic began softly.

Angelina nodded, shifting to straddle a thigh. She pulled Nic’s hand down placing it between them. “Tell me what you feel......aaaaaahhh,” she prompted as she slid against Nic’s touch.

“Heaven.” Nic said, drawing out the word.

“Yes....... it is,” the blonde agreed with absent-minded speech, then eased her body down onto Nic so she could kiss her sweetly, with longing.

She realized Nic had rolled them over and was working her way down her body. There was no time to wonder about it, just a knowing that this woman’s touch was familiar and right. She wanted to pull Nic’s body into hers past the barrier of skin and bone, she needed her, ached for her, begged her for more, and shattered into a thousand pieces, only to be made whole.

Not to be undone alone, Angelina lazily lifted a knee, bringing her into an intimate contact that drew a moan from Nicole. Her hand found a hip, pulling her lover toward her, then slipped her hand around to stroke and tease. Nic moaned into Angelina’s neck and it was all she could do not to collapse onto her. Nicole’s moan quickened the blonde’s heart and roused her. Biting into Nic’s shoulder, she got her to roll so she could devotedly work her way to kneeling between her legs, long deep strokes and wordless eloquence from her tongue brought Nic to the altar, calling to the deities.

Sated for the moment, Nic remembered that she needed to breathe. Drawing a breath in deeply, she reached for her lover to pull her up into her arms, “Oh gods, Nora”

The blonde eased up her body and nestled into her embrace. “You called me Nora,” she said petulantly into Nic’s neck.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.... I loved playing with Angelina, but when we’re here like this, it’s only you. Always, only you,” as she closed her eyes and laid her head back til she got her second wind. Nic could feel Nora’s smile against her neck and figured she was forgiven.

Nora drew idle circles on slightly damp skin and enjoyed the pulse under her ear. She could hear Nicole’s words through the resonance of her chest.

“You lisp when you use your french accent, you know.”

“I do not!” protested the blonde.

“Yessssss, you do.” Nic mimicked with a close approximation of Nora’s earlier efforts.

“Well, you were certainly not hard to get....... I thought you were going to resist!” Nora teased back.

“I tried, honest. I just can’t resist you, never could,” Nicole confessed. “Lingerie? Was that fair?” she inquired.

“Ha, we’ll see what you come up with when it’s your turn,” she challenged. “And I’m glad you can’t resist me. Not surprised mind you...”

“Oh that’s an easy one. I’ll just play the brilliant private detective. You’ve never been able to resist her.”

There was a sharp knock at the door startling them out of their contentment.

“Well, it can’t be the dinner you promised me, unless you ordered telepathically,” Nic said as she disentangled herself and donned a white silk robe. She smiled an unguarded dazzler at Nora, making sure she had the sheet appropriately placed before opening the door.

On the other side of the threshold stood the hotel concierge, wringing his hands. “Ms. Charles, I am so sorry to interrupt you, but I would very much appreciate it if you would, um, dress and come with me.”

“What is it, Henry? What’s happened?”

“There’s been a death, Ms. Charles. A murder. Will you come please?”

to be continued
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