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The gala was beautiful.
Angela had been to enough of these by now to know that the drinks would be expensive, the donors clueless, and the outfits too tight. Hers included.
“Can you zip me up?” she’d asked Lucy earlier in the locker room, twisting in her black halter dress to adjust it a little.
“Sure,” Lucy had grinned, tugging the zipper up with a satisfying zrrrpp. “Damn, Lopez. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to impress someone.”
Angela had just rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m just trying to survive the night.”
Which was mostly true.
She wasn’t dressing for anyone.
Except maybe one person. One very specific, frustrating person who hadn’t spoken to her since she’d walked in with Graham on her arm.
The moment Angela walked in, Nyla clocked it, not the gown, not the subtle smoky eye but him. Graham. Boring enough to blend into the crowd, but not boring enough for Nyla not to notice.
Angela laughed at something he said. Nyla’s jaw ticked.
From across the room, she tried to look busy. Glass of champagne in hand. Posture locked, spine straight, eyes scanning. Pretending to be on watch when the only threat to her peace of mind was already inside.
She hadn’t expected Angela to come alone. But she hoped.
"Jesus, you're burning holes in that guy's head," Tim Bradford said, sidling up beside her with a smirk. He swirled his drink. "What’d Graham ever do to you? Aside from… exist."
Nyla took a sip.
"You could fry an egg on your stare right now," he added, elbowing her lightly.
"Don’t you have a girlfriend to ogle?" Nyla muttered.
Tim grinned, completely unbothered. "I do. She's across the room in a dress that makes me believe in God. But this?" He gestured toward Angela and Graham. "This is better than the Oscars. You’re seething."
"I’m not-" she started, cutting herself off when Angela’s laugh rang out again. God, that sound. It used to be just for her. On stakeouts. In squad cars. After hours, over takeout containers.
Tim raised an eyebrow, enjoying himself way too much. “You gonna stand here all night brooding, or you gonna talk to her?”
“She’s on a date.”
“Is she?” He tilted his head. “Or did she just drag along the only person whose shirt matched her clutch?”
Nyla exhaled. She hated that he was right. Hated more that it mattered. Graham wasn’t even Angela’s type, too safe, too bland\. But the point wasn’t him.
The point was that Angela hadn’t called her.
Hadn’t asked.
Hadn’t-
“I’m gonna get some air,” she muttered.
Tim just chuckled, already turning to scan the room for Lucy. “Tell your face that. It’s giving betrayal.”
Angela had noticed Nyla the second she stepped into the venue.
It wasn’t just that she looked good, though God, she did. That green dress hugged her curves too well. Hair swept up. Jewelry minimal. But no, it was the energy.
She’d caught Angela’s eye across the room for a split second, just one, and then looked away. No smile o rnod. Just turned on her heel and walked toward the bar.
Angela had spent the last forty-five minutes trying not to look back. Failing.
Graham was fine. He was fine. He was polite, he was on time, he made a joke that earned him a pity laugh. But every time she glanced past his shoulder, every time she heard a laugh that wasn’t his, she felt Nyla’s absence.
The plan had been simple: don’t come alone. She’d waited too long to RSVP, didn’t want to deal with nosy questions from the brass about her marital status, and Nyla-
Well, Nyla hadn’t been an option.
Not officially.
So Graham.
Graham was… harmless.
“Do you want another drink?” he asked, touching her elbow gently.
Angela blinked. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“You sure? I can grab something.”
She forced a smile. “Maybe in a bit.”
He nodded, already turning. And Angela, traitor that she was, used the opportunity to scan for Nyla again.
Gone.
Of course.
Nyla always ran before she broke.
Nyla wove through the crowd. Minimal eye contact. Short nods. She ignored a compliment from some sergeant and dodged a chief. The hallway toward the balcony was mercifully empty.
She leaned against the cool marble wall, letting the air hit her face. For a moment, she let her shoulders drop.
She brought him.
Why did that sting so much?
She wasn’t entitled. They weren’t anything.
Except… they were. Weren’t they?
There had been moments. Little things. Cases. Drunken honesty over takeout. The way Angela always stayed a second longer in the locker room when Nyla changed. The way Nyla always remembered her order, no onions, ever, without being told.
It was something.
Or it had been.
Now?
Now Angela was out there, laughing at a joke Nyla hadn’t told, drinking champagne poured by someone else, looking…
Beautiful.
God, so beautiful.
And not hers.
The door creaked open.
Nyla stiffened, not looking up.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Angela’s voice,. Not angry. Yet.
Nyla said nothing.
The click of heels echoed softly as Angela stepped closer.
Angela folded her arms. “Are you avoiding me?”
Nyla still didn’t look. “Why would I do that?”
Angela huffed. “Seriously?”
Another pause.
Then finally, Nyla turned her head, not all the way, just enough to glance sideways, gaze unreadable.
"You brought a date."
Angela’s brows lifted. “That’s what this is about?”
Nyla looked away again.
"Unbelievable," Angela muttered, mostly to herself. “You don’t get to be mad about that.”
"I’m not mad."
"Bullshit."
Silence again.
Angela’s voice dropped, quieter now. “He’s not even- It wasn’t like that.”
Nyla didn't answer.
Angela stepped closer.
“He’s not who I wanted to come with.”
That made Nyla glance up again. Their eyes locked.
Angela stepped closer. "You didn’t ask."
Nyla turned, finally facing her. Arms crossed. "I didn’t know I had to."
Angela scoffed. "Right. Because vulnerability’s a foreign concept."
"Don’t come at me with that," Nyla snapped. "You’re the one who brought a walking beige flag to a black-tie event and then got offended when I kept my distance."
"You think this was fun for me?" Angela shot back. "Dragging Graham here like a damn seat-filler? You think I wanted that?"
"Then why the hell did you?"
"Because I didn’t want to walk in alone and deal with all the questions. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to gossip or speculate or ask me how my divorce is going while I try not to spill champagne on my dress!" Angela’s voice cracked.
Nyla flinched. Just a little. She hadn’t thought about it that way.
Angela kept going. “But more than that? I didn’t want to come alone and see you here with someone else. Because that would’ve wrecked me.”
Nyla blinked. “You… what?”
Angela looked furious now, not just at Nyla, but at herself. “Forget it.”
"No." Nyla took a step forward. “Say it again.”
Angela’s breath hitched. “I didn’t want to see you with someone else.”
All of a sudden, one hand fisted in the front of Angela’s dress, dragging her forward, mouths colliding in a kiss, all teeth and heat. Angela kissed her back like she’d been dying to, Nyla growled quietly, grabbing Angela by the hips and backing her into the wall with a force that made them both gasp.
Angela broke the kiss just long enough to speak against her lips. “You’re such an asshole.”
“You like that about me,” Nyla breathed.
“I really don’t.”
Nyla kissed her again. Angela moaned, low, frustrated, turned on as hell.
Hands everywhere, Angela’s on Nyla’s shoulders, neck, threading into her hair, yanking her closer like she couldn’t stand the distance. Nyla’s fingers slipping down Angela’s waist, possessive, like she’d been planning this for months.
Angela gasped into her mouth, “We’re still at the gala.”
Nyla’s grin was dark, wicked. “Then be quiet.”
Angela kissed her so hard she nearly lost balance.
“Say it again,” Nyla rasped between kisses, her voice shaking with restraint.
Angela’s breath hitched. “What?”
“That he’s not who you wanted to come with.”
Angela exhaled a laugh. “You’re a damn menace.”
Nyla grinned against her jaw, her lips moving lower. “Say it.”
“You,” Angela whispered, letting her head fall back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. “You, Harper.”
That was all it took.
Nyla’s mouth crashed against hers again. Her hands slid down, grabbing Angela’s hips and lifting just enough for her to feel how badly this was spiraling.
Angela let out a half-moan, half-laugh. “This is insane.”
“You gonna stop me?” Nyla murmured, mouth at her throat now, lips brushing the line where her necklace kissed skin.
“No.”
She kissed her again.
Angela let her.
One of them, probably Nyla, found the zipper on Angela’s dress. She didn’t pull it, but her fingers rested there. Angela’s hand flew up, catching her wrist.
“Not here,” she breathed, but it sounded more like not yet.
Nyla’s eyes burned. “Then take me home.”
Angela opened her mouth to answer but the sound of heels from the hallway.
Both of them froze.
Panic passed between them.
Angela grabbed Nyla’s arm and yanked her back, smoothing her dress, tugging her hair back into place. Nyla backed up, chest rising and falling like she’d just sprinted five blocks.
The balcony doors didn’t open but the footsteps were dangerously close.
Angela exhaled sharply. “We are so bad at this.”
Nyla snorted. “You're the one who brought a date.”
Angela shot her a look, one hand still on her chest, trying to will her heartbeat back to normal. “You’re the one with your hand on my zipper.”
Nyla grinned, completely unapologetic.
Angela stepped forward, close enough for her breath to ghost over Nyla’s collarbone. “If someone had come out…”
“They didn’t.”
“Not yet.”
The doorknob behind them turned.
Angela grabbed Nyla’s hand. “Come on.”
The second the door closed behind them, Nyla pressed Angela up against it with a force that had nothing to do with anger anymore.
Angela kissed her like she’d been waiting to taste her for a lifetime. Like every night they’d spent pretending this was nothing had just been foreplay.
Nyla wasn’t gentle. She couldn’t be. Her hands were already at Angela’s waist, dragging her jacket off, tugging her dress up, fisting the fabric with a desperation that shocked even her.
Angela broke the kiss only long enough to whisper, “Bedroom-?”
Nyla didn’t answer. She just lifted her and walked them down the hall. Angela’s legs wrapped around her waist, fingers buried in her braids, mouth at her ear now.
“I’ve thought about this,” Angela whispered. “Too many times.”
“Yeah?” Nyla’s voice was low. “You’re about to stop thinking.”
She kicked the bedroom door open.
Angela lay back against the cool, warm, velvet sheets.
Nyla stood at the edge, breathing hard.
And then she moved.
No more talking, no more teasing.
Nyla’s mouth was already on her before Angela could catch her breath.
Angela gasped when Nyla’s hands slid to her thighs, fingers tracing the line of silk with maddening slowness.
“Tell me what you want,” Nyla murmured against her throat.
Angela didn’t answer with words. She just grabbed the front of Nyla’s dress and yanked her down, kissing her like she was mad about it.
Clothes hit the floor, Angela’s dress slipping off her shoulders, Nyla’s zipper half undone by impatient hands. Lingerie discarded. What mattered was skin.
The first press of their bodies made Angela arch, a soft moan escaping her lips . “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Oh,” Nyla growled, dragging her mouth down Angela’s neck, across her collarbone, “I’m going to finish you.”
Angela’s breath caught as Nyla’s mouth moved lower, teeth grazing, tongue circling. Her fingers dug into the sheets, hips lifting in invitation.
Nyla smiled against her stomach. “So impatient, Lopez.”
“Shut up,” Angela breathed. “Or keep going. Pick one.”
Nyla chose both.
She kissed a line down Angela’s stomach, tongue flicking along the curve of her hip like she was carving a path only she had the right to walk.
Angela let out a sound as Nyla’s hands slid beneath her thighs and pulled her closer, a grip that made it very clear: she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Tell me when to stop,” Nyla murmured against her skin.
Angela laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Nyla didn’t need more permission.
Her mouth dived into Angela's soaked heat. She already knew how to ruin her. Tongue flicking against her clit as she sucked and then let go with a soft sound, dragging her tongue over her lips to savour the taste. The exact angle that made Angela’s hand fly to her hair and twist hard.
Angela’s legs shifted, hips lifting, thighs tense, as Nyla worked her, patient and cold. The sheets were twisted. The only sound louder than her breathing was the soft wet drag of Nyla’s mouth and the way she whispered “Good girl” when Angela whimpered her name.
That made Angela swear, and try to pull her up for a kiss, but Nyla didn’t budge.
“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” she said against her, voice so low it vibrated between Angela’s legs, “and then maybe I’ll let you touch me.”
“Jesus,” Angela breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
Nyla didn’t stop.
Her hands spread Angela wider, her mouth no longer stopping, no hesitation as she dove in, savouring each sweet taste. She kept her pinned and trembling, dragging her up toward the edge and holding her right there until Angela was practically shaking.
Angela tried to form words, Nyla’s name, maybe a threat, maybe a plea, but all that came out was beautiful moan.
And when her climax finally hit, Angela arched with it, one hand gripping the headboard, the other still tangled in Nyla’s braids as she cried out, eyes clenched shut, hips twitching as her whole body gave in.
Nyla didn’t stop right away. She rode it out with her, mouth still slowly working between Angela's legs, hands soothing now, rubbing circles into Angela's hips, holding her.
When Angela finally went still, Nyla kissed the inside of her thigh. Then her hip. Then slid back up her body until they were nose to nose again.
Angela blinked up at her, dazed.
“You’re a menace,” she whispered, repeating herself from earlier, voice hoarse.
Nyla smirked, brushing a sweat-damp braid off her forehead. “You’ve said that already.”
“Still true.”
Nyla kissed her. Angela melted into it, tasting herself on Nyla's lips, holding the kiss when Nyla tried to pull back for air.
And then Angela’s fingers slipped lower, teasing over Nyla’s bare back, nails dragging.
Nyla raised an eyebrow.
Angela’s voice was a low purr. “Your turn.”
She might’ve just been thoroughly ruined, but she hadn’t forgotten who she was.
“Lie back,” she said quietly.
Nyla blinked. “What?”
Angela’s voice sharpened. “You heard me.”
Nyla’s eyes narrowed like she was about to argue. But then Angela pushed up, straddling her, and any thought of resistance melted under her gaze.
So Nyla laid back.
Angela leaned over her, one hand sliding across Nyla’s stomach, up to her chest, pausing, possessively, like she had every right to take her time.
“You looked so smug earlier,” Angela murmured, kissing the edge of her jaw. “You don’t look so smug now.”
Nyla let out a breath but Angela was already kissing her again, tongue teasing hers until Nyla’s hands clenched in the sheets.
Then Angela’s mouth began its descent, her kisses trailing along Nyla’s collarbone, over the curve of her chest, down to her stomach. Her hands followed, tugging at fabric, easing it away inch by inch.
“You always this quiet when you’re not in charge?” she asked, lips brushing Nyla’s hip.
Nyla laughed. “I’m letting you have your moment.”
Angela bit the inside of her thigh, gently.
“Say that again,” she warned.
But Nyla only groaned, hips rising, the tension in her thighs betraying her. Her breath came faster now, her voice a rasp: “Don’t tease me.”
“Oh, honey,” Angela said, settling between her legs, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”
Her hands pressed Nyla down, and then her mouth followed.
There was no hesitation. She licked, sucked, worshiped like she’d memorized.
Nyla shattered slowly.
At first, she tried to keep quiet but Angela knew her too well. She knew the exact spot to circle, the exact moment to change pace, the exact sound Nyla made when she was getting close but wouldn’t admit it.
Her legs tensed. Her back arched.
Angela didn’t let up, one hand gripping Nyla’s thigh, the other holding her hips down.
“You’re close,” she said, voice muffled against her. “Aren’t you?”
Nyla’s fingers twisted in the sheets. “Angela-”
“Say it.”
“I’m-” Nyla gasped, her whole body jolting as Angela flattened her tongue and-
That was it.
She came with a soft cry, hips jerking, fingers fisting the fabric. Angela kept going, , drawing it out until Nyla collapsed.
When Angela finally crawled back up, she looked smug as hell. She kissed Nyla’s cheek, then her temple, then her lips.
Nyla opened her eyes, dazed.
Angela smiled against her mouth. “Still letting me have my moment?”
Nyla pulled her in for another kiss. When they broke apart, she murmured, “You’re dangerous.”
Angela laughed. “You’re just mad I made you beg.”
Nyla rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
Angela kissed her again. “Make me.”