Read Online Periphery by Lynne Jamneck - Free Book Online

the client. So, she mentally signaled a go-ahead for the LINK to establish a connection.
    “You’re not canceling like the others, are you?” Jamila’s voice was a rich, deep alto. And Edie had been so pleased to see that she looked just as gorgeous on the LINK as she did in her profile, that it took a second for her to parse Jamila’s question.
    “Actually, I’m about five minutes from your place. That’s still good, right?”
    Jamila rewarded Edie with brilliant flash of a smile. “I’m all ready for you, girl. I even have hot cocoa waiting.”
    “With whip cream?”
    Jamila chuckled lowly. “Lots.”
    *
    It was only when she was standing on the sagging front porch of Jamila’s Victorian did Edie pause to wonder why anyone would cancel. Jamila’s dossier expressed an interest in a variety of different sexual positions and a tendency towards experimentation, none of which would normally be a turn-off to an ishtartu. Before putting her finger on the doorbell, Edie LINKed to Jamila’s offer one more time. She scanned the surface for any anomalies, but found nothing. Then, she accessed the client history. There they were: two rejections. Odd. Both happened after having accepted the call. One left her in the bedroom. Highly unusual.
    A gust of cold wind nipped at Edie’s ear. Despite her growing concern, she rang the doorbell. The door opened with a puff of warm air that smelled of pine and baking bread. “You actually came.”
    Jamila wore a bulky brown sweater that matched her eyes. Since she was in her own home, she wore faded blue jeans and comfortable bunny slippers—complete with ears and a pink triangular button nose. Edie smiled at those.
    “You’re beautiful,” Edie said, completely genuinely. “How could anyone say no to a woman like you?”
    Jamila raised a thin eyebrow, even as she stepped out of the doorway so Edie could enter. “Wait until we get to the bedroom.”
    “I can’t wait,” Edie said, shrugging out of her coat. Seeing a coat tree beside the door, she hung it up. She kicked off her boots and took a look around.
    Jamila’s house was like so many in Minneapolis/St. Paul. Despite all the advances in technology, it was still a grand old place with twelve-foot ceilings, maple trim, and hardwood floors. Jamila had a fire roaring in a stone fireplace. Velvety purple couches and a matching overstuffed chair tucked comfortably around the fire. Bookcases encircled the room, filled with data-chits and crystals. What looked like original, abstract oil paintings hung on the rich cream-colored walls.
    “You want that drink, or should we just…” Jamila’s eyes indicated an open staircase.
    “It’s entirely up to you,” Edie replied.
    “Then, I’d like to get this over with. If you’re going to run screaming like that last girl, I don’t want to waste my good cocoa on you. No offense.”
    What had happened here? Edie shook her head in disbelief. “There might be screaming,” Edie insisted with a wicked smile. “But I promise I won’t run.”
    “Good,” Jamila murmured, stepping closer.
    They were almost the same height, Edie being only a few inches taller. Edie could smell the other woman’s scent—lavender and musky.
    Jamila slowly ran a finger down the length of Edie’s tie. Twirling her long-boned fingers around the silk, she gripped it firmly. With a tug, she led Edie up the stairs.
    *
    Edie got the sense of a bedroom with the usual furniture and piles of clothes scattered around, but the instant they stopped moving, Jamila wrapped her in an embrace. Jamila pressed her body against Edie’s crotch.
    “Mmm, nice,” Jamila said, feeling the hardness there. Then, Jamila kissed her.
    This is not how this is supposed to start, Edie thought to herself, even as her lips sought Jamila’s slightly parted mouth. I’m supposed to say the ritual words. But Edie forgot all about that, for the moment lost in the sensation of soft, wet lips. Jamila’s lipstick tasted of wax and