Breaker's Passion by Julie Cannon Page A

woman was pressed against her front.
    Good God, it was happening again. Her throat was dry, her head dizzy, and the throbbing in her veins settled in her groin. Who was this woman and why was she so affected by her? Elizabeth’s eyes never left the figure as she neared. Today she had on dark green shorts and a bikini top that clearly displayed the perfectly round breasts Elizabeth held in her hands the night before.
    The woman hadn’t seen her yet and, with no idea why, Elizabeth slid down in her chair. She heard voices.
    “Hey, Breaker, wanna head out?”
    “Not right now, Stingray. I’m looking for somebody.” It was that same voice. Her clitoris started to throb.
    “You lose a student or something?” The other person laughed.
    “No, nothing like that. Just looking for somebody I met the other day.”
    The person laughed again. “Jesus, Breaker, you get more girls in a month than I get in six. What is with that? Do all the lesbians in the world know about your talents between the sheets?”
    This time the woman laughed and Elizabeth almost dropped her water. It sounded like they were directly in front of her.
    “Come on, Stingray, I should be so lucky. Don’t you know by now not to believe everything you hear, especially if it’s coming from Dink and Sandshark? They’re so full of shit. What they don’t know they make up, and you fall for it every time.”
    “Yeah, I know, but I’ve seen you in action, Breaker, and you didn’t get that name by settling down with just one. Or two or three, for that matter.” Another laugh.
    The voices drifted away and Elizabeth cautiously eased back to a sitting position. The woman from last night was walking away from her, her strong muscles glinting in the sunlight. The man she was talking to was already halfway to the water’s edge.
    “Breaker.” She tried out the unusual name and suspected it was a nickname of sorts, like the people she referred to. Her brain flashed to the old beach movies she used to watch as a kid growing up in San Diego.
    And what had the guy said? She didn’t get the name Breaker by settling down with one or two? Did that mean what she thought it did? That the woman had left a trail of broken hearts up and down the beach? Elizabeth remembered her fleeting thought the night before that the woman was far too practiced in seduction. But right after that Elizabeth didn’t care and wanted nothing more than to be her next conquest. “Jesus, I’ve got to get out more,” she said to the retreating figure.
    Funny. She didn’t feel cheap or used, as she probably should have. Then again, she’d gone willingly into the trees. There was no seduction about it. She wanted the woman. Correction, she wanted Breaker, and she would have had her if not for their nosey audience. What did that make her? She was willing to have sex with a woman she had said less than ten words to. She was a highly respected university president and was acting like one of her students.
    “Get a grip, Collins.” She stood and watched the woman walk farther down the beach.

    Colby was more than frustrated. The dream last night had left her turned on and on edge. She hadn’t had a wet dream in years, and the fact that she had one was disturbing enough. She had not really desired another woman since Gretchen died. That part of her was understandably dormant, and Colby didn’t intend to bring it out of hibernation. She had sex, but her body’s reaction to the woman was telling her something different.
    She had spent practically every free minute this afternoon uncharacteristically looking for the woman from last night. Caught in flagrante once before, she had simply shooed off the voyeurs and finished what she had started. Why hadn’t she done the same with this one? She was certainly willing. In fact, she was giving just as much as she was taking.
    After what seemed like forever, the last class of the day was over. Hurriedly, she gathered the boards and tucked them in the shed