Chapter 19 #2
Isabel let loose a groan that made Victoria’s toes curl as she inserted a third, then a fourth finger.
She could feel the still buttoned pants pulling at the pressure of Isabel’s thrusts and wanted desperately to see exactly how erotic that looked.
Yet, Isabel never relented her hold, keeping Victoria trapped beneath her as her gaze bored into Victoria’s soul.
When Isabel added the thumb, pumping her fist and spreading Victoria wide, Victoria careened over the edge and screamed as her orgasm barreled through her. Isabel never stopped, pumping her through each wave of pleasure until Victoria nearly passed out from the pleasure.
Finally, Isabel closed the distance, kissing Victoria deeply as she slid her arm back out from beneath her waistband.
The world around them faded to nothing but the sounds of their breathing and the soft rhythm of their hearts. They stayed close, their foreheads touching, the air between them warm and quiet. Neither looked away.
Victoria’s fingers skimmed Isabel’s cheek, tracing the path her gaze had already taken a dozen times that night. Isabel caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm, then to her wrist — mirroring the tenderness Victoria had shown her before.
No words. No need.
When Victoria finally whispered, “Let’s go to bed,” her voice trembled just slightly.
Isabel nodded, and they stood together, still holding on as they made their way down the short hall. The apartment was dim, lit only by the city glow filtering through the blinds. Their hands never parted.
In the bedroom, they sank onto the bed, the sheets cool against her skin. The world outside felt impossibly far away.
Victoria brushed a strand of hair from Isabel’s face, her thumb lingering at her jaw. Isabel met her eyes again, the same unwavering connection from before — soft, unguarded, and infinite.
Neither of them looked away as the night folded around them, the quiet filled only by the steady, shared rhythm of breath.
Sleep came eventually, slow and peaceful, with their hands still linked between them.
The morning light crept in through the blinds, painting pale gold stripes across the sheets.
Victoria stirred first. For a few seconds, she didn’t move — just breathed. The scent of coffee still clung faintly to her hair from the night before, mingling with the warmth of skin and the quiet rhythm of another heartbeat pressed against her.
Isabel was tucked against her side, her head resting just below Victoria’s collarbone. One of her hands lay over Victoria’s stomach, her fingers curled loosely, her nails grazing the hem of her sleep shirt.
It struck Victoria that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up like this — comfortable and unguarded, not immediately pulled toward duty or worry.
For the first time in longer than she cared to admit, she let herself simply exist in the moment.
Isabel shifted slightly, letting out a soft, sleepy hum. “You’re awake,” she mumbled against her skin.
“I am,” Victoria said, her voice low and rough with morning.
“Have you been lying there staring at the ceiling this whole time?”
Victoria smiled faintly. “Just thinking.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Isabel tilted her head back, her eyes half-open, a sleepy grin tugging at her mouth.
Victoria looked down at her, and for a moment, she forgot what she’d meant to say. The light caught in Isabel’s hair, in the faint creases near her eyes from laughing, from living. She looked real, warm, and impossibly dear.
“Don’t overthink it,” Isabel said softly, as if she could read her.
“I’m trying not to,” Victoria replied. “It’s new for me.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
They both smiled.
A beat of silence passed before Isabel shifted again, propping herself up on one elbow. “I, uh…want to tell you something.”
Victoria felt her pulse pick up, though she kept her tone even. “Okay.”
“I started looking for jobs,” Isabel said. “Nothing serious yet, just seeing what’s out there. I don’t think I’m ready to jump into another department, but…I don’t know. I thought maybe consulting, private investigations, something that still lets me use my skills.”
Victoria nodded slowly, watching her. She could tell Isabel was nervous, even though her voice stayed steady.
“That sounds right for you,” Victoria said. “Something that’s all yours.”
Isabel smiled, small and genuine. “That’s what I was thinking.” She hesitated, then added, “And I want this. Us. I want to see where it goes.”
The words hit Victoria like warmth spreading through her chest. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she felt it release.
“However,” Isabel said, her tone gentle but sure, “I want to take it slow. We’ve spent so much time together under chaos and pressure, I think we should figure out who we are without all that noise. I don’t want to rush it and mess this up.”
Victoria looked at her for a long moment — really looked at her. The certainty in her eyes, the steadiness beneath the softness.
It hit her again how much she liked this woman. Not just desired her, not just admired her work ethic or her courage — but genuinely liked her.
“That sounds reasonable,” Victoria said, her voice warm. “We’ll go at your pace.”
Isabel’s smile deepened. “That’s a first.”
Victoria gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t get used to it.”
The teasing faded into silence, comfortable and easy. Isabel lay back down beside her, curling close, and Victoria let her arm settle around her shoulders.
Through the quiet, Victoria felt something she hadn’t felt in years — not control, not duty, not even pride. Hope.
It wasn’t loud or overwhelming. Just steady, like a heartbeat.
She turned her head and pressed a kiss into Isabel’s hair. “We’ll figure it out,” she whispered.
“I know,” Isabel said softly. “We will.”
The light stretched across the bed, warm and forgiving. Outside, the city was waking, but inside, for just a little longer, everything was still.
The station was already buzzing when Victoria walked in that morning. Officers crowded the bullpen, voices overlapping as reports were swapped, jokes traded, and coffee poured into chipped mugs. The familiar hum of it all wrapped around her like a pulse — steady and alive, her kind of music.
She greeted a few people as she passed, noting how many of them looked lighter these days. After the chaos of the last few months, everyone was finally breathing again.
Victoria was halfway to her office when Sergeant Blake caught up to her, a file in hand and a grin that said she was already halfway through her first espresso.
“Morning, Captain. I’ve got the post-incident summaries from the Harper case for you.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Victoria said, taking the file.
Blake hesitated, then added with a lopsided smile, “Hey, you talk to Torres lately? Everyone’s been wondering what she’s doing with herself now that she’s not part of the department. Kind of hard to imagine the place without her.”
Victoria stopped. For years, questions like that — personal ones — would have made her deflect, redirect, or shut down entirely. But something inside her shifted now, subtle but solid.
She glanced down at the file in her hand, then back up. “She’s doing well,” Victoria said. “Looking at some consulting work, maybe private investigations. I think it suits her.”
Blake’s brows lifted. “That so? You two keep in touch?”
Victoria allowed herself a small, genuine smile — the kind that didn’t feel like armor. “We do,” she said. Then, before she could second-guess it, she added, “We’re…seeing each other.”
For a moment, Blake blinked. Then her grin widened. “You and Torres?”
“That’s right.”
Blake let out a low whistle, laughing. “Well, damn. Guess the precinct pool owes me twenty bucks.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “There was a pool?”
“Captain, there’s always a pool,” Blake said, shaking her head. “You two had more tension than a crime scene standoff. I’m happy for you, though. Torres is good people.”
“She is,” Victoria said quietly, and there was no hiding the warmth in her voice.
Blake’s smile softened. “Good for you, Captain. About time you got a life outside this place.”
Victoria huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s the plan.”
When Blake walked off, Victoria continued toward her office, the faintest trace of amusement tugging at her mouth. The moment was small, but it felt huge — saying it out loud, not dodging, not downplaying. Just owning it.
She set the file on her desk, the light pouring in through the blinds, catching on the silver frame of her badge. For most of her career, this room had been her entire world — the safe, controlled space where nothing could touch her. Now, it felt different. Not smaller. Just…balanced.
She still had her job, her purpose, her pride. But she also had something waiting beyond these walls. Someone.
And she wasn’t afraid to let people see it anymore.
Victoria smiled faintly, booted up her computer, and reached for her coffee. The day ahead would be busy — it always was — but for once, she didn’t mind the noise.
The world outside was wide open. And for the first time in years, so was she.