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This undercover op is a bit of a luxury, all things considered.
Sure, they might be living in a van, but it looks out into a beautiful ocean and glittering stars that aren’t really visible in the LA pollution. She knows Nyla isn’t really about the outdoor life, but Lucy loves it, to an extent. The camp site has pretty decent outdoor showers, and the city isn’t far away at all—whatever time they’re not surfing or chatting or making little trinkets, they spend in town. They get to visit LA once a week, and even though they can’t go home just in case anyone’s following them, it’s still familiar.
Despite missing Tim desperately, she’s kind of enjoying herself. It’s only been about two weeks, and she knows the cracks will start to form and grow, but as of right now, it feels like a fun gals getaway.
However, there is one major flaw.
The lack of sex.
Typically, her and Tim don’t go more than two days without something, even when they’re busy. It’d been a little more sporadic before the breakup, and obviously the breakup had been a time of near-abstinence (but she still slipped, a few times), but now that they live together, it makes everything so much easier.
But now, they’re apart, and the need inside of her that had been regularly satiated now instead is left burning.
Xia, however, is completely sexually satisfied, every night, according to the cover.
It had made sense, when they first made their covers. Most of the people who live this kind of life also tend to be extremely sex positive and open about it, and the campsite proves it. Everyone talks about sex like they talk about the weather, almost like it’s a community thing. She knows there’s a poly relationship at the edge of the campsite, and there’s a few orgies that her and Nyla have politely declined. Someone asks Nyla, loud and shameless, if she’s “the top,” and someone else asks Lucy if she’s “the cuddly one”.
Of course, she plays along. Lucy’s never been shy about sex, and it’s easy enough to make up stories about Xia and Avery’s fulfilling sex life.
But, of course, someone was bound to take notice of the quietness from their van at night.
It’s Sasha that approaches her about it, when they’re all hanging out, and Nyla goes to grab something from the van. Sasha’s a little older, and she’s got a girlfriend, but they don’t seem to be exclusive. She’s fun to hang around, even if she’s a bit nosy and bold, but she’s useful on getting information on all the other campers—Lucy and Nyla love compiling everything she knows, and seeing who might lead them to their killer.
“Is everything okay, then?” she asks. At Lucy’s confused look, she clarifies, “With Avery?”
“Of course,” Lucy answers, unsure where this is going. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you two haven’t been intimate since you got here,” Sasha observes, looking incredibly sympathetic. “At first, I thought maybe you two were asexual—nothing wrong with that, of course—but, well, it seems you aren’t.”
“Oh!” she realizes. Damn, maybe an asexual cover would’ve been ideal. But, well, it seems she’s already squandered that option. “No, we’re just not that into PDA. It’s a little...public, here.”
Sasha’s eyebrows lift like Lucy’s said something adorable. “Oh honey,” she says softly, and Lucy has to stop herself from flinching at the familiarity. “This whole place is public. That’s kind of the point.”
Nyla returns before Lucy can say anything else, and she worries that Sasha’s going to say something to her as well. But, wisely, the older woman keeps her mouth shut, and instead talks about surfing for the rest of the conversation.
Lucy waits until she and Nyla are in the city to bring anything up.
It’s easier in town. There are cars, people, storefront music, the constant movement that makes a private conversation feel less exposed.
Celina usually keeps close, desperate for a reprieve from the ditch, but she’s not focused on listening in on their conversations. Plus, Lucy knows that if she does overhear anything on accident, she’d be discreet about it.
They’re sitting on a bench, eating delicious tacos from a nearby food cart, when she approaches the topic.
“People are suspicious,” she says slowly, “that we’re obviously not having sex.”
Nyla’s expression doesn’t change, but her jaw tightens. “Yeah,” she says. “I clocked it. Jana asked me earlier if you’re that kind of shy.”
“I’m worried that if the cartel is also noticing that, they’ll be suspicious,” Lucy says.
“They’ve been tipped off by less,” she admits. “We probably don’t want to risk it.”
“So, what?” she asks, unsure. She’s mainly done undercover ops by herself. The only other time she’d been in a cover relationship was with Tim, and, well, she remembers how that ended. Even that hadn’t required faking sex, so she’s not entirely sure what the protocol is, though she does remember planning to bang the bed against the wall if they had stayed the night in that Vegas hotel.
“That’s easy enough,” Nyla shrugs off. “I’ve had to rock the bed around for a few ops. Well, van.”
As she suspected, then.
The thing is, ever since Sasha brought it up, a different idea’s been tingling in Lucy’s head, and, well, maybe other parts of her. There’s a pretty easy solution to this, and it may cross so many lines, but it’d solve more problems than just their nosy community.
“I’ve actually been thinking...”
Nyla looks at her curiously. “What is it, Chen?”
A part of her hesitates; she wants desperately to get off, and she knows Nyla needs it too, but posing the idea of masturbating while in a tiny van together to a coworker is, well, awkward.
“What if we didn’t pretend?” Lucy asks, before she can second-guess it any longer. “I mean, not together, but, like, getting off.”
She knows she’s pushing a boundary, and not the kind they joke about at the station. But, then again, Nyla’s also the only person who understands exactly what it costs to hold your body still for an op, night after night, and pretend you don’t feel anything.
“Masturbating at the same time?” Nyla clarifies.
“We’re adults. We have partners. We’re stuck here. We might as well,” Lucy rationalizes. “I mean, it’s clear we’ve been a bit..tense.”
“Oh, that’s an understatement on your part,” Nyla snarks back. “I mean, you weren’t that subtle in the water the other day.”
Lucy refuses to feel embarrassed about her basic human needs. So what if she used the cover of the ocean to try to get off without being noticed? It hadn’t worked, and Lucy had snuck off saying she needed to pee and called Tim with her code word to talk her through it. She knows she’s not the only one. “Oh, like you haven’t been sexting James?”
Nyla stares her down, almost looking threatening.
“I’m just saying,” Lucy continues. “It’s clear we have some needs and this is our chance to get a little relief. It’s been two weeks of nothing, so we should take the opportunities as they come.”
“Alright, I’ll bite,” Nyla agrees, in a way that makes Lucy realize that she’d never been opposed to the idea in the first place. “What’s your plan?”
“We call our respective partners and...well, to the nosy people outside, it’ll sound like it’s just the two of us,” she proposes. “I mean, our earbuds are noise cancelling.”
Nyla huffs out a little laugh. “I don’t think they work quite that well,” she points out, amused. “Look, James wouldn’t have a problem with it, but your boyfriend...”
“Tim won’t have a problem,” Lucy assures. She knows he won’t.
“Come on, Bradford’s like the most possessive freak I’ve ever seen,” Nyla counters. “I almost watched him burst a blood vessel last month when that detective from West LA asked if you were single.”
“He’s not that bad. Besides, this is different,” she insists. “He’ll be down for this.”
Because it isn’t about Nyla. It’s about Lucy not spiraling for another two weeks, about her keeping her head clear, about not doing something stupid like snapping at the wrong person in camp because she’s wound too tight. It’s about hearing his voice in her ear, grounded, familiar, reminding her she’s still his, even when she’s out here living a different life.
“Alright,” Nyla relents. “But if I come back to some kind of dick measuring contest, he better know right now that I’ll win.”
Lucy laughs.
They clear it with Tim and James first, and Lucy isn’t fully sure the exact convo Nyla has with her husband, but she outlines it fully with Tim. He’s just as okay with it as she expected, maybe even more so, even when she reminds him that she’ll have to call him Avery over the phone to keep up appearances, and Nyla’s going to be there the whole time, potentially watching her get off.
“You’ve always loved an audience,” Tim had quipped back at her. “You get extra noisy. It’ll be perfect for me.”
Once that’s all settled, and everyone is in agreement, it comes down to requesting a bit of privacy. This isn’t too abnormal for an undercover operation—faking it, at least; calling their respective partners to get off for real and let the people around them make assumptions about the very real sex noises probably breaks a lot of protocols—so it’s easy enough to ask about getting some alone time.
“Request to go dark tonight,” Lucy says, once she’s on the phone with Grey and Elena. “Some of the other campers have been questioning our...intimacy.”
“We heard,” Grey says blandly. Lucy almost blushes, but she knows they didn’t listen into the private conversation between her and Nyla—only the other campers. “How long do you need? Thirty minutes to shake the van around?”
“Uh, hang on,” Elena intervenes quickly. “If we’re talking lesbian sex, it’s gotta be three hours. Two, minimum.”
“There’s no—”
“She’s right, sir,” Lucy says. She does not want to mention that some of the noises might actually be real, but even fake noises usually warrant a stop in surveillance for privacy.
Grey goes silent.
“We just need the window,” Nyla pushes, trying to move past the awkwardness. “No interruptions.”
“Fine,” Grey gets out. He exhales, long-suffering. “I’m using this as an excuse to take the night off and sleep in an actual bed in the city. Flores, you take point. If anything happens, call me.”
“Got it, sir,” Elena answers. “Patching in Officer Juarez.” There’s a brief silence, then a small click, before she says, “We’re going dark for the night. Our very-much-in-love couple has to make their intimacy a little convincing, so we’ve got the night off while they figure things out.”
“Oh, thank god,” Celina says, sounding a little too excited. Then, there’s an awkward pause. “Not—I don’t mean about whatever you’re going to be up to,” she clarifies quickly. “I’m just really happy to get away from this ditch.”
“You’re relieved of your duties as soon as Xi and Avery retire to their van,” Grey instructs. “Agent Flores will be staying close just in case they signal, but you’re free to get a hotel room in the city.”
“Oh,” Celina says, surprised. “I don’t mind a night in the van. I can keep Elena—Agent Flores—company.”
“You’d rather take the dusty RV mattress over a cushy hotel bed?” Grey asks, dubious.
“Trust me,” Celina assures, “compared to this ditch, that RV is the height of luxury. Can’t get too comfortable, you know? It’ll just make my fate so much more miserable tomorrow.”
“I’d enjoy the company,” Elena adds happily.
There’s a suspicious pause. “You know, I’m not gonna even question it,” Grey decides. “You do whatever you want. I’m taking a break now.”
“Don’t worry, sir,” Elena says, “We’ve got this.”
There’s a bit of shuffling, and static, and Lucy knows that Grey’s gone.
“Just us girls, now,” Elena confirms. “Do we need to talk logistics?”
“We’ve got it covered,” Nyla says dryly, glancing at Lucy.
“Yeah, we’ve planned it all out,” Lucy confirms easily. “Thank you for the privacy.”
“You got it.”
Celina blurts, “Also, just, like, for realism—”
“Juarez,” Nyla warns.
She barrels right over it. “You don’t have to actually, you know, do anything. You can just argue about the thermostat and slam cabinet doors aggressively. That’s what my college roommates did when they were having sex.”
Elena makes a choking sound. Lucy’s mouth twitches.
“Alright, well, Xia and Avery are in a relationship with good sex, so we are not doing that,” Nyla says pointedly.
“Do you want some tips on how to make this actually realistic, or...” Elena starts to ask.
“I think we’ve got it,” Lucy says quickly. “Thanks.”
“Right. Okay. Let’s go, lesbians,” Elena says brightly. “Or, you know, whatever you identify as.”
That night, once Grey clocks out and Celina gets out of the ditch and Elena turns off all the surveillance, it’s time.
Earlier in the night, they spent the bonfire event touching more, subtly, giggling to each other. By the time everyone heads to bed, it’s clear to anyone who’s paying attention that the couple has intentions for the night, and they make it even clearer by shutting the van doors behind them.
At first, they watch some silly videos together, giggling and laughing naturally. It helps Lucy feel a little more calm, because the idea of getting off right next to your coworker that’s also getting off feels... Well, it’s not the most normal situation. She’s a little nervous.
A phone buzzes, and Lucy knows it’s time the second Nyla pulls the phone up and gives a rare smile.
“James is calling,” she whispers, pulling out her earbuds. “You ready?”
Lucy nods, grabbing for her own electronics. She settles on the bed across from her, knees drawn up for a second before she forces herself to relax. Nyla mirrors her, posture grounded, eyes steady, as she answers her husband’s call.
“Babe,” she says, smiling.
Lucy slips her own earbuds in, Nyla’s words fading out. She dials Tim’s contact, and it only rings twice before he answers, his voice deep. “Hey.”
“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” she teases. She knows his voice well enough. “You ready for me?”
They perfected their art of dirty talk when she’d gone undercover as Jamie Hall; every night, in her tiny little cover apartment, he’d call, and they’d talk each other to completion. After that, they’d gotten bold with it, Tim a lot more comfortable with his words, and Lucy loving every second of it.
She’s so grateful for it right now.
“I’m already in bed,” he admits. “Miss you.”
Lucy wants nothing more than to say she misses him, too, but even with their quiet voices, her and Nyla have to consider the possibilities they might be overheard. Her word choice has to be careful.
“I can’t wait for you to fuck me,” she says instead, sighing. “It’s been too long.”
“Okay,” Tim murmurs. “I’m here. Tell me what you need.”
“Tell me what you’d do to me,” she says. Then, she smirks, and adds for good measure, “Avery.”
He hums over the phone. “Well, I’m not sure if I have the same capabilities as Avery,” he jokes, “but if you were here, I’d start by getting you quiet. Not because I want you quiet,but because I want you listening.”
“I’m listening,” she agrees.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Then do what I say.”
She swallows, breath catching. “Okay.”
Lucy moves slowly, pushing her hands into her pants, not because she’s shy, but because her body feels hyper-aware. She’s not used to someone right next to her while listening to dirty talk like this—the closest she’s gotten is in the station bathroom, when her and Tim’s shifts didn’t align for almost a week, and it’s not a moment she’s incredibly proud of.
“Now,” he continues, and she can hear the smile he’s trying to hide. She knows he’s taking full advantage of the fact that she can’t really say much to him, so he can do all the talking. Before they got together, she never would’ve thought he’d be a man of many words in the bedroom. “I assume you already got started. Touch yourself, but don’t do anything more.”
The first touch of her fingers against her core feels like relief. She’s already wetter than she reasonably should be—just the idea of the plan had got her a little desperate; quickly getting off while sneaking away hasn’t been enough for her. The fact that they have all night, if they want, and potentially multiple orgasms, has her excited.
Lucy exhales slowly, forcing her shoulders to unclench.
“Keep your movements slow,” he instructs. “You can use a finger. Just one.”
She tries, but the angle is weird. “Hold on,” she says, frustrated. The leggings are too constricting against her hand, and she can’t move as smoothly as she’s going to need to.
When she accidentally glances at Nyla, she sees that her pants are already off, and Lucy’s not entirely sure when that happened. She averts her gaze out of respect, but makes a decision.
She stops fighting with her own clothes.
Lucy slides her pants down, smooth and unhurried, pulling it over her knees, and does her panties next. She’s never been shy about her body—has never believed she should be—and she refuses to start now just because the situation is weird. She’s been naked in front of Nyla dozens of times, both in the locker room and in the limited space of this van, but stripping for the purpose of sex, even if it’s just masturbation, carries a different weight.
“Okay,” she says. “Continue.”
“One finger,” he repeats. “Slowly.”
She follows his instructions. It’s not nearly enough, but Tim loves to tease her. Sometimes, she ignores him, and gets herself off the way that she wants, but she’s fine making tonight last a little longer. She misses him, she wants to hear him talk in her ear—
Actually, she wants him on top of her, his dick inside of her, hard and fast. But she can’t have that, so she settles for this.
Tim’s voice stays low, patient, like he’s enjoying how long he can keep her right on the edge of frustrated. “Good,” he murmurs. “Now keep it there. Don’t add. Don’t rush. Just feel it.”
“You’re doing this on purpose,” she mutters.
He makes a quiet sound that’s almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he admits easily. “Because you’re listening. That’s kinda rare.”
Lucy shifts on the mattress, trying to find a position that doesn’t squeak, that doesn’t make the van feel even smaller. She forces her shoulders down again.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, softer now. “Not what you’re settling for. What you want.”
Lucy swallows hard. The honesty tastes sharp. “You,” she breathes.
“I know,” he murmurs immediately, like he’s been waiting for it. “And you’re going to get me. Just not tonight. You’re on your own.”
She isn’t though. Not exactly. She pointedly tries not to look over at the woman across from her, probably much further along in her pleasure.
“Do you want to add another finger?”
When Lucy glances at Nyla, just to make sure they’re not speaking at the same time, her breath catches.
Her eyes are closed, focused on the task at hand. Her cunt is on full display, her fingers spreading herself apart with one hand, while the other is rubbing tight circles around her clit, before dipping back inside. She’s biting down on her lip, her chest heaving up and down as she slowly thrusts her fingers.
Holy shit.
The sight is captivating, and Lucy feels more wet than before. She warms, her core throbbing, and gasps out.
“You haven’t answered me,” Tim says. “Did you stop listening?”
“Yes,” she answers truthfully.
He seems to accept that, letting her find her own rhythm.
She finds herself staring at Nyla’s movements. She replicates the movements against herself, plunging her own fingers into her cunt, matching Nyla’s slow pace. When she pulls out to focus back on her clit, Lucy does so, too, her eyelids fluttering at the feeling.
She forces herself to slow down and actually watch instead of spiraling in her own head. Nyla’s pace is unhurried, controlled, taking her time, and she mirrors her the best she can. It helps. It gives her something to follow.
When Lucy looks up again, Nyla’s eyes are open, looking at her. For a moment, she flushes, embarrassed at getting caught staring. She’s about to apologize for being a perv, for pushing boundaries, for crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed, but Nyla’s gaze doesn’t waver.
She holds the stare even as she clearly hits the right spot within herself, causing her to gasp, and Lucy’s eyes glance down to her open mouth, then back to her fingers moving.
“Fuck,” Lucy breathes out. “That’s hot.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Are you...watching her?” Tim asks.
“It’s doing a lot for me,” she admits. “Is...that okay?”
“Yeah,” he answers.
Nyla smirks at her.
Slowly, she pulls her fingers out, pausing. When Lucy doesn’t follow suit, she tilts her head, challenging, until she too retracts.
Then, Nyla begins rubbing against her clit, a little faster than before, and Lucy obeys.
With men, Lucy’s always felt the need to dominate a little more, make her superiority clear, but with women, she’s never minded submitting. In fact, a part of her loves to submit, to take orders, and with the right men, she still will. She loves switching up the dynamic with Tim sometimes, fueling her old fantasies of how domineering he could be when they first met.
This is a bit different, though.
Nyla isn’t even really touching her, except for the quick moments their legs have brushed together, and Lucy still feels like she’s about to burst. Almost as if she’s reading her mind, Nyla spreads her legs wider, pushing up against her thigh, her strokes quickening.
Just the small bit of continuous contact has Lucy dizzy.
Nyla’s breathing changes first. Her jaw tightens, her gaze finally falling away as she tilts her head back. Lucy feels her leg trembling against her, and, desperate to hear it, she rips out one of her earbuds.
Then, Nyla goes still for a beat, eyes sharpening, and Lucy watches the moment hit her, watches her ride it out with a tight control that still leaves her trembling. She cries out in short bursts, moans that definitely can be heard from outside, and Lucy thinks she’s about to follow—
Her own momentum stutters when Tim speaks again in her ear.
“You got this, baby,” he encourages. “Come, now.”
Hearing his voice is like a dose of cold water.
Lucy blinks hard, breath catching like she’s been startled. It isn’t that she doesn’t want him—she does, desperately—but the sudden drop of his voice in her ear snaps her right out of the fragile rhythm she’d finally found. Her body goes tense for half a second, like it’s remembering the wrong context.
She exhales, frustrated, and tries to force herself back into it, but the moment has already shifted. Nyla’s come down from her high, breathing hard, not yet paying attention to the world around her.
Lucy groans. “You killed my vibe,” she tells Tim.
“Ah,” he seems to realize, almost amused. “Too manly of a voice for you, right now?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
He laughs. “Should I shut up?”
She thinks about it. “No,” she decides.
Tim’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Then, he seems to decide something. “Remember when you told me about the best orgasm you’ve ever had?” he asks. Then, so smoothly that she can feel his smirk, he adds, “Before you met me, of course.”
“Yeah,” she breathes.
“Tell me what made it so good,” he says. “Use that. Right now.”
Lucy’s cheeks warm even in the dark. She thinks back to it—it’d been a fling in grad school, with someone she hasn’t seen since she dropped out. Their relationship hadn’t been serious, but the sex had been mind-blowing, and really set her standards high after that.
“Are you picturing it?” he prompts.
“Yeah,” she agrees.
“Good.”
She loves this. She loves how even if he can be a little insecure about himself at times, he’s so confident in their relationship and sex life that he’s not only fine with talking about her previous relationships, but fully using it to get her off.
Lucy lets the memory anchor her, instead of derail her. Her fingers begin to move again, replicating the movements she had copied from Nyla earlier. She starts slowly, building herself back up, letting herself be loud, ignoring the soft voices around her.
“I gotta go,” she hears Nyla say distantly. “I’ll call you back later. We good?” After a brief silence, she says, “Perfect. Bye,” and hangs up.
“That’s it,” Tim murmurs. “Don’t rush. Don’t fight it. Just let it build.”
Lucy’s hand speeds up, and she hears her own small, broken inhale, shoulders loosening by degrees. The earlier interruption feels farther away now, replaced by something steadier, heat returning in a slow, sure wave.
But, it’s just not enough. She can’t get the visual of Nyla getting off out of her head, but the image had been too fleeting for her to call back to it reliably.
“I need more,” she begs Tim. “My fingers—they’re not enough—”
A hand wraps around her wrist, and she almost moans just at the physical contact.
“Give me the phone,” Nyla orders, her voice low. Before Lucy can fully answer, she takes the phone from the mattress beside her, and quickly switches it to the receiver. “She needs more. Do you get what I’m asking you?”
Lucy doesn’t hear what Tim replies, but she silently prays he agrees. He’s been happy to go along with it thus far—more than happily, honestly, from the way he sounded—but touching is a different ballgame entirely. They’ve discussed the options of threesomes, and neither have been opposed, but Lucy did feel like she wanted to keep him to herself for a little longer after getting back together. It’d be completely fair if he drew the line here.
Nyla clicks a button, and then his voice is back in her ear.
“Do you want this?”
“I do,” she begs a little, shamelessly. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Let her touch you,” Tim husks over the call, no hesitancy in his voice. “Let me hear you.”
“Okay,” Lucy agrees eagerly. She looks up at Nyla, who looks at her questioningly, and nods.
Nyla shifts closer, planting one hand on the mattress for balance and lets the other settle against Lucy’s thigh, warm and steady, anchoring her there. Just that already gets her feeling like she’s moments away from an orgasm.
“Is this okay?” Nyla asks, her voice fully serious, her movements pausing. Only her thumb gently caresses the thigh it’s already against.
“Want me to keep talking?” Tim asks at the same time.
She answers both questions with a soft, “Yes.”
Lucy’s fingers curl into the sheet, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of being touched with intention. She makes a sound she doesn’t mean to make, then bites it back, cheeks warm.
Nyla’s eyes soften just a fraction. “Breathe,” she says, low.
Then, her hand trails down lower, fingers slipping between Lucy’s thighs, finding how wet she is with no hesitation. Lucy gasps at the first contact, hips jerking forward, her hand reaching out and grabbing Nyla’s arm, then gasps again as a finger swirls over her clit, before swiping downwards and gathering a bit of cum on her fingers.
“Is that good, Xi?” Nyla asks, sultry.
“Yes,” she gasps. “Oh my god, yes.”
Tim makes a low sound over the line that goes straight through Lucy. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let her.”
Nyla slides a finger inside her, slow, feeling her out. Lucy’s back arches off the mattress. Her nails dig into Nyla’s bicep, but she doesn’t seem to mind, only looking smug as she roughly pushes up against her inner walls.
“Holy shit,” she says.
“Avery,” Nyla whispers.
“Avery,” Lucy repeats, loudly, half taken over by a moan as Nyla rubs the same spot a little, curling her fingers. “That feels so good, Avery.”
Nyla’s eyes stay on her face, intent and steady, mapping every reaction. The smugness is there, yes, but so is control.
Lucy clings to her arm like it’s the only steady thing in the van. She’s half-frustrated with herself for how fast she’s tipping into it, half-relieved that she finally is. Her eyes shut closed, overwhelmed by the feeling of Nyla’s fingers moving inside her, and Tim’s voice encouraging her in her ear.
Then, she looks back down.
She catches her gaze immediately, her mouth popping open as she doesn't miss a beat with her finger moving in and out of her. Nyla inserts a second finger to fill her up even more, and she grips hard onto her bicep as she lets out a choked groan.
“Oh my god,” Lucy cries, her eyes shutting again.
Nyla’s brows lift at the sound, approval flashing across her face before she refocuses, steady and serious again. She shifts her grip to keep Lucy anchored when her body starts to chase too hard. She goes a little faster, using her thumb to press small little circles around her clit with each pump.
The pace shifts and Lucy’s entire focus narrows. Her breathing turns uneven, her hips moving without permission like her body is trying to meet Nyla halfway. She scrapes in a breath, tries to keep her voice down, tries to remember the thin walls and the camp outside—but the sounds that slip out are honest, and she can’t fully control them anymore. Perhaps that’s for the best.
“Ny—Avery,” Lucy cries out softly as she hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. So, Nyla hits that spot again, then again, and she moans each time.
Nyla’s mouth curves, pleased. “That’s it,” she murmurs, voice rougher now. “Say it.”
Lucy’s breath breaks. “Avery,” she gasps again, because she has to, because the cover is still the cover even in here, even like this.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Tim asks. “You sound incredible.”
Nyla presses harder and faster, her two fingers twisting in and out of Lucy at a surprising rate, with her palm rubbing her clit roughly. Lucy rocks against her, adding even more to the friction, biting her lip as the pleasure builds.
“I can hear you trying to be quiet,” Tim tells her. “I told you I wanted to hear you.”
She lets herself moan loudly at that, just as Nyla puts extra pressure on her clit. Everything feels so, so good, so consuming, and she’s about to burst.
“Good girl,” he says, and Lucy nearly loses it right there, the words punching straight through her. She whimpers, hips bucking, and Nyla braces her other hand against her hip to hold her down.
“I’m close,” Lucy cries out. “I’m so...close. Please.”
“Then come,” Tim says, sharp and hungry. “Come for me. Come for her.” Nyla’s thumb presses harder, relentless, and Lucy’s whole body starts to shake.
“What’s your boyfriend say? Does he think you’re ready to come?” Nyla taunts quietly, putting more pressure against her clit, then releasing as she pauses. “I’ll probably ignore him anyway.”
Lucy makes a frustrated sound, hips jerking up, chasing the pressure. “He—” she pants, then swallows, eyes wide. “He wants me to let you—”
Tim’s voice cuts in, husky. “I want you to take it,” he says. “I want you to use her fingers and come.”
Lucy’s throat tightens. “He wants me to take it,” she repeats, breathless.
“Well, for once, he and I might agree,” Nyla says, eyes flashing. She smirks. “Remember. Be loud. Now, come for me.”
Lucy breaks.
The tension that’s been winding for days finally snaps, and her whole body locks for a second. Her grip tightens on Nyla, nails biting, and a sound tears out of her that she can’t fully swallow back down. Her whole body convulses, her body tensing as she curls her toes against the blanket below her. The heat spreads from her core and throughout her body, waves of pleasure coursing through her.
“Fuck,” Tim gasps in her ear, and that only keeps her going on. “Lucy, I’m—”
Everything in her consciousness blurs, the feeling inside of her so intense as Nyla keeps stroking her delicately. It’s just enough to keep the high going, but also calm enough that it slowly brings her down, letting her ride it out in full without getting overstimulated.
Lucy lies there for a few seconds like her body forgot how to move. Her hand is still clenched in Nyla’s sleeve, knuckles white, and she slowly loosens her grip one finger at a time. Distantly, she realizes that Tim came with her—she remembers hearing his groans over the phone.
The whole thing had been much hotter than she’d ever anticipated. For a moment, she thinks she might’ve died and gone to heaven, if such a thing exists. Two voices had been praising her, had been getting her to the finish line, and...
Well, what a finish line it was.
Lucy exhales. “That was...”
“Amazing,” Tim finishes, breathing harshly. “God, the sounds you make.”
She blinks, trying to steady her breathing, before looking back up at Nyla.
“You certainly sold it,” Nyla says quietly, smirking again.
“Didn’t need to sell it,” Lucy responds. “God, that was great. Thank you.”
Nyla looks at her for a moment, contemplating. Then, slowly, she pulls her fingers away from Lucy’s cunt, bringing the glistening digits to her own lips. “Mmm,” she hums around her fingers, before pulling them away cleanly with a small popping sound. “Thank you.”
Lucy watches her with wide eyes, still wrecked, still buzzing, and Nyla’s gaze flicks up like she knows exactly what she’s doing to Lucy’s head. The imagine of Nyla licking her cum off of her fingers replays over and over again in her head, until only one thought remains.
She desperately needs to taste her.
“Can I taste you?” she asks Nyla. Then, to Tim, over the phone. “Can I taste her?”
“Yes,” they answer simultaneously.
Clarity hits Lucy a little more strongly, though, the second the word is spoken out loud. She wants nothing more than to bury herself between Nyla’s thighs right now, but they both have long-term partners. She doesn’t think Tim has a problem with it—he had just consented—but she needs to make sure this isn’t just the heat of the moment.
“Are you sure?” she asks again, glancing to the side so Nyla knows she’s not talking to her.
“You’re coming home to me, right?” Tim asks.
“Of course,” she says.
“Then do whatever you gotta do, baby,” he tells her. “And when you’re back, I’m going to put you on the counter the second the door locks. I’m going to pull your pants down and make you watch me take you. I’m not going to be gentle about it. I’m going to make you say my name until you can’t think straight. Then, I’m going to carry you to our bed and do it again, slower, until you’re shaking.”
She bites her lip, feeling her core throb at the visual in her head at his words.
“Did that ruin your vibe?” Tim asks, smug and too-knowing.
She doesn’t dignify him with an answer he already knows. “I’m gonna fuck Nyla now,” she tells him. “Bye, babe.”
“Have fun.”
She hangs up the phone, throwing out the one earbud that’s remained in her ear. She turns back to Nyla, who’s now sitting back against the pillows, ready.
“And James?” Lucy asks quietly, making sure.
“Oh, I cleared it with him far before we even got started,” she answers easily, spreading her knees. The thought that Nyla actually spent time considering this sends a spark of heat through her. Then, more loudly, “You gonna eat me out or what, Xi?”
“There’s nothing I want to do more,” Lucy responds, moving to lie in between her legs. Nyla shifts back against the pillows to give her space, one hand braced at Lucy’s shoulder.
Slowly, Lucy presses a kiss to the skin visible between her breasts, before shifting down. She pushes Nyla’s shirt up just enough to press a soft kiss against her belly, enjoying how her muscles jump at the contact, her hands sliding up her thighs to push them further apart.
Lucy pauses for half a second, eyes flicking up to Nyla’s face, but she just looks down at her with hunger in her eyes, giving a small nod as her hand moves to the back of her head, guiding her down.
“Yeah,” Nyla murmurs, voice rough. “Don’t tease.”
Lucy’s mouth quirks, pleased, and she doesn’t answer with words. So, she gives her what she wants, pressing an open mouthed kiss against her glistening cunt, letting her tongue dip ever so slightly into the opening, just enough to taste what she has to offer.
Nyla’s head tips back with a sharp inhale. “Oh—” she starts, then bites it off.
“Shhh, Avery,” Lucy soothes, feeling a little smug as she pulls back. “Be loud, remember?”
Nyla lifts an eyebrow as she looks down at her, almost challenging. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lucy dives in again.
It’s been years since she’s gone down on a woman, but the logistics of it comes back faster than she expects. Raw instinct takes over, and Nyla isn’t shy about what she wants. The hand tangled in her hair guides Lucy easily, and she pays attention to what her body is asking for.
Lucy glances up, cataloguing how Nyla reacts to how her tongue pushes inside of her, before pulling it out and swirling it around her clit. That earns a sharp gasp as Nyla’s legs wrap tightly around her torso, tugging her closer into her. Lucy’s hands move from keeping her thighs open, enjoying how they immediately close in around her head, and instead move to grip either side of her ass.
It’s easier, this way, with the friction. She uses her hold to push and pull, her tongue swiping over her slit up and down roughly, before settling to suck her nub.
Nyla might not be much of a talker, but she’s certainly very responsive, little whimpers filling the van as her grip against Lucy’s hair gets harsher and harsher.
A part of Lucy is tempted to tease, but she doesn’t think Nyla would ever let her. Besides, with how desperate her little sounds are getting, she doesn’t think she could bear it herself to delay hearing what it’s like for her to climax.
So, she doesn’t relent. She keeps going, until Nyla’s unable to sit still, her hands traveling everywhere, her legs releasing pressure before clamping down again. Lucy pushes further, focusing even more on her clit, her hands squeezing her ass, encouraging, glancing up into her wide eyes.
When Nyla comes, it’s hard, with her head tipping back, her hand clenching in Lucy’s hair, her body trembling. The way she cries out, “Lu—Xia!” is impossible to fake, sharp and honest. Her head snaps back down, looking at Lucy, and she returns the stare with determination.
Lucy stays with her through it, slowing only when Nyla’s grip loosens and her breathing starts to settle. She shifts back carefully, giving Nyla space without pulling away too fast. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then pauses, watching Nyla’s face. Her gaze has not left her.
Nyla swallows hard and lets her hand fall from Lucy’s hair, fingers flexing once like she’s releasing the last of the tension. Her eyes are still dark when she looks down at Lucy, but the edge has softened into something quieter.
“You good?” Lucy asks, voice low.
“Yeah,” Nyla responds. “You sure know how to use your tongue. No wonder Bradford is so whipped.”
Lucy hums, content as she sprawls out on the bed, sweat clinging to her. Nyla half slumps, too tired to move enough so she’s actually laying down.
They lie there in the small bed, Lucy’s nose pressing up against Nyla’s ribs. The waves outside can be heard crashing against the shore, almost in time with their breathing. It reminds Lucy of where they are, without pulling her fully back into the op.
Neither of them talks right away. It isn’t awkward, not exactly—it’s more like they’re both letting their bodies catch up to what just happened, letting the adrenaline drain, letting the tension unclench.
“Should we let the others know the coast is clear?” Lucy asks eventually.
“Nah,” Nyla answers after a moment. “They deserve their night, too.”