"Oh, yeah," Cam finally murmured, sagging against Blair. Her head was still pounding.


Blair laughed faintly as the last ripples of Cam's orgasm pulsed against her fingers. She ran her free hand up and down Cam's back, soothing her. She didn't think anything had ever satisfied her as much as having Cameron in her arms, trembling and so unguarded.


"I wish I'd known sooner that all I had to do was ask," Blair remarked breathlessly.


Cam sighed and straightened up, leaning back to look into Blair's face. Their legs were still pressed together and just the sensation of Blair's skin against her own was exciting her again. She grinned, but her eyes were very serious. "You don't need to ask. I can't even be near you without wanting you."


Blair was aware of Cam's hips rocking persistently against her own, and she realized they weren't done yet. She started opening the buttons on Cam's borrowed shirt, asking quietly, "Is that a problem for you, Commander?"


Cam hooked her fingers under the edge of Blair's T-shirt and lifted it upward, pulling it off over her head. She tossed it somewhere behind them and brought both hands down to cup Blair's breasts. "Not at the moment," she muttered distractedly, her eyes fixed on the tight, pink nipples under her thumbs.


"Cam," Blair said urgently. "You're bleeding."


For the first time, Cam was aware of a burning discomfort along her right palm. The gauze wrapped around her hand was bright red with blood. "It's nothing," she said, dismissing it, as she lowered her lips toward Blair's breasts.


Blair caught Cam's chin with her fingers, halting her motion. "We need to look at it - now."


"Blair," Cam warned, her eyes dangerously dark, her expression impatient with need. "Later."


Blair pivoted slightly and slipped out from between Cam and the wall, grasping Cam's good hand in hers. She dragged Cam through the doorway into the bathroom.


"I want to look at this."


They faced each other in the small space, Blair completely nude, Cam naked from the waist up with her jeans open. Both of them were flushed and breathing heavily. The air around them shimmered with urgency as they stared at one another wordlessly.


Then Cam advanced on Blair, her expression determined. "I'm not waiting."


Blair sidestepped quickly and yanked the knobs on the shower to full on. She turned back just as Cam reached her. She hooked her thumbs over the waistband of Cam's jeans and pushed down. "Get out of these."


Cam stepped free of her jeans as Blair backed into the shower. Cam followed, her eyes riveted on Blair's. She reached for her, and Blair gently captured her injured hand between her own.


"Let me unwrap this," Blair said quietly as they stood together in the streaming water.


Momentarily defeated, Cam held out her right arm so that Blair could remove the bandages. She set her teeth as the water hit the cracked and crusted patches. The skin was blistered and raw and still oozed blood slowly.


"How does it feel?" Blair asked, hoping that her voice was steady. The burns looked terrible, and even though she knew they weren't serious, for one horrifying moment she imagined what might have happened if someone hadn't been nearby to drag Cam away from Jeremy Finch's car.


Cam turned slightly so that Blair could not see the injury. With her other hand she caressed the side of Blair's face and said softly, "It doesn't hurt."


"Why don't I believe you?" Blair murmured, wrapping one arm around Cam's waist.


"Because," Cam whispered softly, her lips moving gently against Blair's ear, "you don't trust the Secret Service, Ms. Powell."


Blair tipped her head back, offering Cam her neck. "That's because you keep secrets, Commander."


As Cam worked her way along Blair's jaw and down the column of her throat, Blair found Cam's uninjured hand and brought it to her breast. She gasped faintly at the swift sharp pressure of Cam's fingers on her nipple. She was still aroused and her clitoris twitched rapidly at the renewed stimulation.


Slowly, Cam knelt.


As Cam leaned forward to taste her, Blair braced herself with one hand against Cam's shoulder. Dimly, Cam heard her moan as she moved her mouth over her. Blair was still swollen and firm and as Cam drew her between her lips, she knew it would not be long. She tried to make it last, sucking gently, careful not to work her too quickly or too hard, but it didn't matter. Blair was too sensitive and too close and almost immediately, she began to come. With the first pulse of release, Cam pressed harder, pushing Blair rapidly to another peak. She would have kept going if Blair hadn't fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her head away.


"Stop," Blair gasped hoarsely. "I can't."


"You can."


Blair laughed, pulling Cam up next to her. She leaned into her, and wrapped her arms around Cam's waist. "You're right. I probably could, if I had a little more time and I didn't think that John Fielding was going to burst in here at any second to find out why I'm screaming."


"No one will come in," Cam said firmly. "They'll assume we're having a private briefing. It's perfectly normal under the circumstances."


Blair kissed the pulse at the base of Cam's neck. She wanted her again. She wanted to lie down with her and touch every part of her and taste her again and again. "There's nothing normal about any of these circumstances, Cameron. If letting you go now means that I'll be able to have you again, I'd rather stop."


Cam closed her eyes and held her tightly. "Will you believe me if I tell you there will be another time?"


"I'll try, because I have to believe it," Blair whispered.




Chapter Twenty-Five

"Your hair is wet," Blair commented as she watched Cam gathering her scattered clothing. She leaned against the bathroom door, wearing the terrycloth robe that she had donned the previous evening when Cam had appeared at her door. "If you leave my room and go to a briefing like that, you might as well wear a sign saying 'I slept with the First Daughter'."


Cam grinned as she buttoned the borrowed shirt. "It'll dry while I put on my own clothes. I've got a suitcase in the other room that Mac brought." She pulled on the jeans and smiled faintly. "Somehow I fell asleep last night before I got around to changing."


"That's because you were out on your feet," Blair remarked with a combination of irritation and concern. "Will you get someone to take care of those burns?"


Cam nodded. "I'll ask Stark. The EMTs left something for me to put on it." She crossed to her, and put her hands lightly on Blair's waist. "I'll take care of it, I promise."


"You'd better," Blair said, her voice husky. As much as she hated to, she added, "You should go, Cam."


Cam sighed, reluctant to leave her. "I'm going to be tied up all day with the briefings. Stark will see to anything that you need."


Blair smiled wryly. "As long as she doesn't make me play pinochle with her. That's where I draw the line."


"Understood," Cam said, lightly pressing her lips to Blair's forehead. She didn't dare do more, because she was afraid if she felt the softness of Blair's lips, she might not be able to stop with one kiss. For some reason, she couldn't seem to control herself the way she was used to. She couldn't seem to stop wanting her.


Finally, Cam stepped away and crossed to the door. She looked back, her hand on the doorknob, and said quietly, "By the way, Dr. Coleman is fine. She was shaken up a bit by the blast, and I think she might have ended up on the bottom of the pile when we all hit the ground, but she's all right."


Blair studied her silently for a moment, looking for some sign that there was a hidden message in Cam's words. She should have known there wouldn't be. Cameron Roberts did not play games. "Thank you. I was worried."


Cam nodded, and opened the door. "I thought you might be."


"Cam?" Blair said quickly.


Cam looked at her questioningly.


"You do know there's no one, don't you?"


"I'd hoped," Cam replied softly, and then she was gone.


*


Two hours later, Blair stood in the doorway of the makeshift command center and surveyed the people grouped around the long dining room table in the center of the room. Cam, attired now in a dark gray suit and silver silk shirt, sat at one end of the table while Patrick Doyle occupied the seat opposite her at the far end. Mac was to Cam's left and Stark, a bandage on her forehead and a very impressive bruise on the side of her face, was beside him. Across from them were a man and woman Blair did not recognize. Savard looked mildly uncomfortable situated between Stark and Doyle.


Patrick Doyle looked up and frowned. "Can I do something for you, Ms. Powell?" he said tersely.


Blair studied him silently for a moment, then walked around the table and pulled out a chair next to Cam. "I'd like to get some idea of what's happening," she said quietly.


Doyle cleared his throat and rearranged some of the papers in front of him. When he looked up at her, his gaze was wintry. "We've just started, and I think at this point anything I could tell you would be premature. I'll advise you of anything you need to know at a later date."