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Lorelei Martins has loved girls and boys for as long as she can remember. Her first kiss was with Sally McKnight in the fifth grade, and she remembers the lingering taste of Very Berry chapstick on her tongue. The other kids had giggled, pointed, and laughed, but Lorelei had been on cloud nine. Sally had been the prettiest, and most popular girl in the fifth grade, and Lorelei had finally gotten her chance to make an impression.
(Of course, her teacher, Mr. Fredickson hadn’t been too happy. Screaming about how unbiblical the notion of two girls kissing was to her face.)
Her second kiss had been with Tyler Quincy, during a game of Spin the Bottle. He had tasted like sugar cookies and chocolate, two of her favorite things, and her classmates had teased her for kissing Gay Tyler, something she hadn’t seen anything wrong with. What did it matter if someone was gay, straight, or in-between? Happiness to Lorelei was far more important than what her classmates thought about her.
And so, at sixteen, she decided she was bisexual.
::::
In hindsight, Red John was a giant mistake. Lorelei had been twenty-something when the man had pulled her out of her grief over her deceased sister and had shown her the light. Of course, nobody had told her that He was a fucking psychopath, until after she had watched him slaughter someone before her very eyes.
(But His one redeeming quality was that he was excellent in bed; He knew how to treat a woman, and He knew how to make her come with a tilt of his single, crooked finger.)
She spent years with Him. Years with Rebecca Anderson, Dumar Hardy, Craig O’Laughlin -- learning. She was to be His greatest weapon of all, and somewhere, the realization that she was both needed and useful had her staying around. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. She was happy (if she just ignored His wrongdoings), and she had no shortage of men or women to fuck.
But then, everything changed.
Dumar had been shot dead by Patrick Jane. Rebecca had been poisoned by Him. Craig had been shot dead too by Grace Van Pelt. And then suddenly, it was her turn to get involved with Patrick Jane and the Serious Crimes Unit.
“My greatest weapon,” He cooed. “You’ll have Patrick Jane on his knees.” He had touched her chin gently, petted her hair, and had kissed her roughly, before pushing her out the door.
In hindsight, Red John had been a giant mistake -- but He had also led them to her.
::::
Patrick Jane tastes like tea leaves and whiskey. His penis is also much larger than Red John’s had been, and every thrust to Lorelei felt like heaven. She was his to use (or abuse) however he liked, and Lorelei couldn’t help but smile at his soft touch. After years of being treated like an object, the thought of being treated like an actual person was nice; and so, she let him fondle her bare breasts, and lap from between her hairless legs as though this was just another night with Him or Dumar or Craig.
However, what she didn’t expect was to catch feelings .
She tells Patrick she’s a gift from Him, the next morning, and she half-expects him to slug her across the face. Instead, he steps close to her and traces his finger down her jaw. Right then and there, she wants to say I love you until she’s blue in the face, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she walks away.
::::
When Patrick doesn’t bring Teresa's head in a box, Lorelei’s got to remove a finger from his hand. It’s nothing personal , she thinks, as she holds the shears to his left ring finger. His wedding band glints in the sunlight, and it makes her stomach churn. What would it be like to love someone, and be loved in return? Red John says he loves her, but Lorelei’s not stupid - it’s not real love. It’s love fueled by obsession.
Patrick squirms so beautifully that it almost hurts her soul. She’s reminded of the night they laid together, and she can’t help but smile.
Of course then, it all goes south.
She’s captured by the CBI.
(Again, in hindsight, Red John was her biggest mistake.)
::::
In captivity, she keeps fucking around with Teresa Lisbon. Not actually fucking, but something akin to it. She can’t deny that the brunette makes her feel alive, so that’s why she reminds Teresa of her fucking Patrick every chance she gets.
“We were lovers,” Lorelei repeats herself. Teresa rolls her eyes. “He cried my name under the covers; arched so prettily under my fingers. Has he ever done that for you?”
She damn well knows the answer is no, but she still likes getting under the brunette’s skin. Teresa is funny when she’s wound up so tightly, like a rubber band that’s about to snap.
“Tell me about Red John,” is always the next question out of her mouth, and Lorelei’s answer never changes: “I’m not telling you anything.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
Lorelei flashes her smile at Teresa. “You always have such a way with words.”
Teresa doesn’t appear amused, but Lorelei doesn’t let that get her down. Instead, she leans across the table and grabs the brunette’s hand in her own.
“What are you…?”
“Such strong hands,” Lorelei murmurs, before caressing the woman’s bare knuckles with her lips. Teresa looks confused, and Lorelei can’t help but smile. “Has anyone told you that before, Teresa?” The name flows from her lips like warm honey, and she half-expects the fellow brunette to shut her down, but instead, Teresa merely shudders.
Lorelei finds it cute.
“Could you not touch me?” Teresa asked, sounding annoyed.
Lorelei only smiles wider.
::::
Seeing how good Patrick and Teresa fit together, Lorelei almost feels inadequate. With his tallness and her height challenges, she imagines how perfectly they’d lie in bed together; arms and legs around one another, tongues mapping out imperfections on skin, that it almost makes her sick.
(It’s not because she’s jealous either; it’s because she yearns for them both.)
She wants to bury her tongue in Teresa’s folds, and use her hand to lazily pump Patrick’s dick. She wants to feel his lips on hers, and Teresa’s tongue against her nipples.
She wants them, but she knows she can’t have them.
::::
“You’re kidding,” is what Teresa Lisbon says, the moment Patrick Jane tells her that Lorelei Martins may or may not have a crush on them. Jane merely tilts his head and grins devilishly, something Lisbon both enjoys and wants to throttle him for. “She…she’s Red John’s mistress.”
“Even Red John’s mistress has feelings,” Jane points out, still smiling but with a shrug. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Admiration with a hint of flirt. After all, how could she not be attractive to you?”
Lisbon nearly blushes, but thinks of a million and one bad things to keep herself from doing so.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jane.”
Jane continues to grin. “Let’s say a friendly wager then. If I can get her to admit her crush on us, you owe me dinner. If she says nothing, I owe you dinner then.”
Lisbon thinks for a moment, before she nods. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Jane claps his hands together eagerly, and exits the room - only to renter in the interrogation room. Lisbon watches, as Jane sits across from Lorelei.
Lorelei looks relaxed.
“Good morning, Lorelei,” Jane greets. Lorelei doesn’t respond immediately. “Sleep well?”
Lorelei flutters her eyelashes. “I’m not telling you about Red John, Patrick.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Jane tells her, still smiling. “I actually was hoping you could help me settle a bet with Teresa?”
Lorelei shifts in her seat. “What is it, lover?”
Lisbon steps closer to the viewing window.
“You didn’t just sleep with me, because of Red John,” Jane starts. “You find me attractive on some level.”
Lorelei chuckles softly. “Someone is feeling vain today, aren’t we?”
“Oh I see the signs of attraction: dilated pupils, labored breathing, a slight blush,” Jane rattles off. Lorelei doesn’t glance away from his intense stare. “But I’m wondering: does the attraction extend to Teresa as well?”
Lisbon’s heart flutters at the way he says her name.
Lorelei says nothing for a moment, and Lisbon wants to say I told you so to Jane. Lorelei is a straight woman, whose interests lie in playing mind games with Jane and fucking Red John. The serial killer’s mistress probably doesn’t have time for silly things like crushes and infatuations.
Or, Lisbon hopes she doesn’t anyway.
(It’s not that Lorelei’s not beautiful. In fact, Lorelei is gorgeous. But Lisbon’s not about to vocalize that, considering Lorelei’s ego is probably already inflated from having gotten sex with a celibate man.)
Lorelei flutters her eyelashes again. “You ask a hefty question, lover.” Lisbon’s heart nearly explodes from her chest. Lorelei’s answer wasn’t exactly a no, but it wasn’t exactly a yes either. “Tell me, Patrick, is Teresa watching us right now?”
Jane’s eyes find hers from the interrogation room, and Lisbon can’t help but nod - even if he can’t see her.
“Lisbon’s in the other room, yes,” Jane tells Lorelei. “I’d invite her in here, but something tells me you’d enjoy that.”
It’s Lorelei’s turn to blush.
Lisbon curses.
“Want me to read your mind, Lorelei?”
Lorelei smiles politely. “I’m still waiting for the psychic readings of Patrick Jane.”
“No such thing as psychics.”
Lorelei pushes herself closer to the interrogation table. “What am I thinking, lover?”
Jane says nothing for a moment, and then, he starts speaking again. “You’re having naughty thoughts about Lisbon and I.” He glances upwards. “My. You shouldn’t use those kinds of words, Lorelei. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
Lorelei doesn’t deny it. “My mother taught me that if I want something in life, I should go for it unapologetically.”
“Liar,” Jane calls. “Your mother wasn’t around much as a child. Probably too busy doing drugs or some other nefarious wrongdoing.”
Lorelei smiles. “Well done, Patrick. I can’t lie to you, can I?”
“No, so once again, are you attracted to Teresa and I?”
Lorelei turns her head by to stare at the reflective glass. “And Teresa’s just beyond the glass?”
Jane nods. “Probably getting frustrated from a lack of yes or no answer.”
Lisbon shakes her head. She’s not frustrated with Lorelei Martins, she’s frustrated with Patrick Jane. He obviously can read everyone, except for her? How does that make any sense? She’s been into him for years , and yet, he sleeps with Red John’s mistress the first chance he gets.
She tells herself she’s not jealous, but who is she kidding? Lorelei is gorgeous, and Lisbon is just…well, Lisbon.
“Can’t have that, can we?” Lorelei asks.
Jane chuckles. “No.”
Lorelei wets her lips with her tongue. “Since you can apparently read my mind, you tell me.”
Jane closes his eyes for a moment, his fingers brushing against Lorelei’s open hand upon the tarnished table. “You’ve always been a little bisexual, Lorelei. No need to deny it. You want someone good in the sheets, and you think Lisbon would be good.” He quirks his lips. “Which she would be. Messy women tend to make good lovers.”
Damn him!
Lisbon leans forward to pound on the glass, when Lorelei softly sighs. “Oh lover. Is it so wrong to imagine the both of you, lying on either side of me? Is it wrong to imagine myself tongue-fucking your partner? Or allowing myself to lazily lick your dick, like some type of lollipop?”
Lorelei, to her credit, doesn’t even blush at the admission or the tirade of dirty words flowing from her mouth.
“See, Patrick,” Lorelei continues, adjusting herself on the metal chair. “Teresa has those same thoughts about you. She wants you to bend her over this table and take her like the filthy animal she is, and quite frankly, I want to watch.”
Lisbon’s breath hitches at the thought.
“I want her to dominate me,” Lorelei continues softly. “Her hand hitting my bare backside for every little thing I’ve done wrong.” Lisbon swears she can smell Lorelei’s arousal. “I want you to ride me, as I pump my tongue in-and-out of her sweet little pussy.”
Lisbon feels dizzy all-of-a-sudden, and Jane appears flushed.
“Does that answer your question, lover?”
::::
In bed, under her heavy comforter with the air conditioning blasting, Lisbon considers Lorelei’s words. Dipping her hands beneath the elastic of the boxers she wears, she circles her opening with her pointer finger, before she slides the digit within herself. Rubbing against the inner wall of her clit, Lisbon moans.
What would it be like to have Jane inside her? Or Lorelei’s wet tongue? Lisbon closes her eyes and imagines Jane’s fingers on her breasts and Lorelei’s tongue inside her, swirling until she’s screaming both of their names into the night.
(It’s only afterwards, throwing her wet sheets into the washer, that Lisbon realizes how fucked she is.)
::::
“When did you want to get that dinner?” Jane asks her, the next day, as she’s filling out paperwork. Lisbon, Jane notes, looks perfectly relaxed; and it’s something he’d like to see more often.
“Dinner?” Lisbon asks, and he thinks she must have forgotten their little bet. He smiles at her, and thinks that won’t do at all .
“You know, dinner; where one person goes to get food, so they don’t die of starvation.” He watches Lisbon roll her eyes, and he laughs. “Anyway, you owe me dinner. Where are we going?”
Lisbon glances upwards. “Does it have to be right this minute?” She glances back down, her hands gesturing toward her paperwork. “Thanks to you, I’m filling out a novel.”
He beams. “Job security, Lisbon.”
She shakes her head. “Job security, my ass.” She pauses, returning to the paperwork. “Jane. Did you put in for a conjugal visit with Lorelei Martins?”
“It was the only way I could see her talking,” Jane offers, and Lisbon looks disgusted for just a moment, until she tilts her head. “You’re obviously thinking about something, and I’m going to guess it’s not the number 63.”
“You’re not going without me,” Lisbon tells him. Jane stares at her, surprise written across his face. “What? Lorelei Martins likes us both. I think together, we could convince her to give up Red John.” Jane blinks at Lisbon.
“Lisbon…”
“What?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself involved in.”
“Jane,” Lisbon replies. “Is it going to be worse than nearly losing the job of three individuals, almost getting yourself killed by a serial killer’s mistress, and killing our former boss?”
“No…”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Lisbon,” Jane answers slowly. “We’re having a conjugal visit , not a snowball fight.”
“I’m not an idiot, Jane; I know what a conjugal visit is.”
“Then you know it’s no place for you.” Lisbon meets his stare head on, and he refuses to back down. “You and I don’t even like each other like that.”
“Jane,” Lisbon interrupts. “You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
“I must have been in a fever dream,” Jane tells her, and Lisbon rolls her eyes, before she stands, and pushes him against her couch. He starts to interrupt, when she presses her lips to his, and kisses him passionately; her tongue mingles with his, and she closes her eyes. “Lisbon. Teresa. We can’t do this.”
“Any why not?” Lisbon asks, after she’s taken six steps back. “Is it because you love Lorelei Martins?”
Jane sighs. It’s not because he loves Lorelei Martins, but it’s because Lisbon deserves far better than him.
“Well?” She asks, after a moment of silence, and because he can’t think of a better answer, he relents.
“Fine.”
::::
The conjugal trailer is a lot smaller than Lisbon imagines, as the three of them cram themselves into the room with a single bed and a couch, that’s probably seen far better days.
Lorelei looks between them both. “I was expecting Patrick, not Teresa to boot.”
Lisbon crosses her arms. “Change in plans.”
Jane glances between the two; both beautiful, both wholesome in their own ways. “Teresa decided I needed a chaperone.” Lisbon glares. “What? We’re all three in this conjugal trailer. What more do you want from me, woman?”
Lisbon moves to the couch, sitting herself delicately on the furniture. “Go ahead.” She glances at her phone, and Jane nearly chuckles. He’s not about to have sex with Lorelei, while Lisbon watches. He’s many things, but he’s not about to let Lisbon become a voyeur to his ways.
So, instead, he proposes a new plan. “How about the three of us share a bed?”
Lisbon looks so uncomfortable, it almost makes him laugh at her. “I…what?”
Lorelei moves to lie on the bed, before she pats the spot next to her, “Come on, Teresa. The bed is big enough for all of us.” Lisbon glances at her, as if she’s lost her damned mind — which Jane supposes is an appropriate response. After all, he is asking her to share a bed with him and a serial killer’s mistress. “You know people have probably had sex on that too, right?”
Lisbon shoots up, almost immediately. “Oh god. I need a shower.”
“I’d like to watch that,” Lorelei admits coyly, and Lisbon nearly turns three shades of purple. Jane can’t help himself, so he laughs. “Come now, Teresa. Lie with us. I’ll tell you both about Red John that way.”
Reluctantly, Lisbon looks to Jane, and Jane looks to Lorelei, who is wearing an expression of innocence. “Lisbon, please.”
Lisbon sighs under her breath, and then relents by moving to the bed with them. Jane remains in the middle, while Lorelei moves to his right, and Lisbon hesitantly slips in on his left. Under the covers, Jane takes one of Lorelei’s and one of Lisbon’s hands in his own.
He smiles into the darkness, after the light automatically times
Title: heavy is the crown
Pairing: Lorelei Martins/Teresa Lisbon/Patrick Jane
Prompt: confessions in a desperate situation
AU S5.
+++
Lorelei Martins has loved girls and boys for as long as she can remember. Her first kiss was with Sally McKnight in the fifth grade, and she remembers the lingering taste of Very Berry chapstick on her tongue. The other kids had giggled, pointed, and laughed, but Lorelei had been on cloud nine. Sally had been the prettiest, and most popular girl in the fifth grade, and Lorelei had finally gotten her chance to make an impression.
(Of course, her teacher, Mr. Fredickson hadn’t been too happy. Screaming about how unbiblical the notion of two girls kissing was to her face.)
Her second kiss had been with Tyler Quincy, during a game of Spin the Bottle. He had tasted like sugar cookies and chocolate, two of her favorite things, and her classmates had teased her for kissing Gay Tyler, something she hadn’t seen anything wrong with. What did it matter if someone was gay, straight, or in-between? Happiness to Lorelei was far more important than what her classmates thought about her.
And so, at sixteen, she decided she was bisexual.
::::
In hindsight, Red John was a giant mistake. Lorelei had been twenty-something when the man had pulled her out of her grief over her deceased sister and had shown her the light. Of course, nobody had told her that He was a fucking psychopath, until after she had watched him slaughter someone before her very eyes.
(But His one redeeming quality was that he was excellent in bed; He knew how to treat a woman, and He knew how to make her come with a tilt of his single, crooked finger.)
She spent years with Him. Years with Rebecca Anderson, Dumar Hardy, Craig O’Laughlin -- learning. She was to be His greatest weapon of all, and somewhere, the realization that she was both needed and useful had her staying around. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years. She was happy (if she just ignored His wrongdoings), and she had no shortage of men or women to fuck.
But then, everything changed.
Dumar had been shot dead by Patrick Jane. Rebecca had been poisoned by Him. Craig had been shot dead too by Grace Van Pelt. And then suddenly, it was her turn to get involved with Patrick Jane and the Serious Crimes Unit.
“My greatest weapon,” He cooed. “You’ll have Patrick Jane on his knees.” He had touched her chin gently, petted her hair, and had kissed her roughly, before pushing her out the door.
In hindsight, Red John had been a giant mistake -- but He had also led them to her.
::::
Patrick Jane tastes like tea leaves and whiskey. His penis is also much larger than Red John’s had been, and every thrust to Lorelei felt like heaven. She was his to use (or abuse) however he liked, and Lorelei couldn’t help but smile at his soft touch. After years of being treated like an object, the thought of being treated like an actual person was nice; and so, she let him fondle her bare breasts, and lap from between her hairless legs as though this was just another night with Him or Dumar or Craig.
However, what she didn’t expect was to catch feelings .
She tells Patrick she’s a gift from Him, the next morning, and she half-expects him to slug her across the face. Instead, he steps close to her and traces his finger down her jaw. Right then and there, she wants to say I love you until she’s blue in the face, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she walks away.
::::
When Patrick doesn’t bring Teresa's head in a box, Lorelei’s got to remove a finger from his hand. It’s nothing personal , she thinks, as she holds the shears to his left ring finger. His wedding band glints in the sunlight, and it makes her stomach churn. What would it be like to love someone, and be loved in return? Red John says he loves her, but Lorelei’s not stupid - it’s not real love. It’s love fueled by obsession.
Patrick squirms so beautifully that it almost hurts her soul. She’s reminded of the night they laid together, and she can’t help but smile.
Of course then, it all goes south.
She’s captured by the CBI.
(Again, in hindsight, Red John was her biggest mistake.)
::::
In captivity, she keeps fucking around with Teresa Lisbon. Not actually fucking, but something akin to it. She can’t deny that the brunette makes her feel alive, so that’s why she reminds Teresa of her fucking Patrick every chance she gets.
“We were lovers,” Lorelei repeats herself. Teresa rolls her eyes. “He cried my name under the covers; arched so prettily under my fingers. Has he ever done that for you?”
She damn well knows the answer is no, but she still likes getting under the brunette’s skin. Teresa is funny when she’s wound up so tightly, like a rubber band that’s about to snap.
“Tell me about Red John,” is always the next question out of her mouth, and Lorelei’s answer never changes: “I’m not telling you anything.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
Lorelei flashes her smile at Teresa. “You always have such a way with words.”
Teresa doesn’t appear amused, but Lorelei doesn’t let that get her down. Instead, she leans across the table and grabs the brunette’s hand in her own.
“What are you…?”
“Such strong hands,” Lorelei murmurs, before caressing the woman’s bare knuckles with her lips. Teresa looks confused, and Lorelei can’t help but smile. “Has anyone told you that before, Teresa?” The name flows from her lips like warm honey, and she half-expects the fellow brunette to shut her down, but instead, Teresa merely shudders.
Lorelei finds it cute.
“Could you not touch me?” Teresa asked, sounding annoyed.
Lorelei only smiles wider.
::::
Seeing how good Patrick and Teresa fit together, Lorelei almost feels inadequate. With his tallness and her height challenges, she imagines how perfectly they’d lie in bed together; arms and legs around one another, tongues mapping out imperfections on skin, that it almost makes her sick.
(It’s not because she’s jealous either; it’s because she yearns for them both.)
She wants to bury her tongue in Teresa’s folds, and use her hand to lazily pump Patrick’s dick. She wants to feel his lips on hers, and Teresa’s tongue against her nipples.
She wants them, but she knows she can’t have them.
::::
“You’re kidding,” is what Teresa Lisbon says, the moment Patrick Jane tells her that Lorelei Martins may or may not have a crush on them. Jane merely tilts his head and grins devilishly, something Lisbon both enjoys and wants to throttle him for. “She…she’s Red John’s mistress.”
“Even Red John’s mistress has feelings,” Jane points out, still smiling but with a shrug. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Admiration with a hint of flirt. After all, how could she not be attractive to you?”
Lisbon nearly blushes, but thinks of a million and one bad things to keep herself from doing so.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jane.”
Jane continues to grin. “Let’s say a friendly wager then. If I can get her to admit her crush on us, you owe me dinner. If she says nothing, I owe you dinner then.”
Lisbon thinks for a moment, before she nods. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Jane claps his hands together eagerly, and exits the room - only to renter in the interrogation room. Lisbon watches, as Jane sits across from Lorelei.
Lorelei looks relaxed.
“Good morning, Lorelei,” Jane greets. Lorelei doesn’t respond immediately. “Sleep well?”
Lorelei flutters her eyelashes. “I’m not telling you about Red John, Patrick.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Jane tells her, still smiling. “I actually was hoping you could help me settle a bet with Teresa?”
Lorelei shifts in her seat. “What is it, lover?”
Lisbon steps closer to the viewing window.
“You didn’t just sleep with me, because of Red John,” Jane starts. “You find me attractive on some level.”
Lorelei chuckles softly. “Someone is feeling vain today, aren’t we?”
“Oh I see the signs of attraction: dilated pupils, labored breathing, a slight blush,” Jane rattles off. Lorelei doesn’t glance away from his intense stare. “But I’m wondering: does the attraction extend to Teresa as well?”
Lisbon’s heart flutters at the way he says her name.
Lorelei says nothing for a moment, and Lisbon wants to say I told you so to Jane. Lorelei is a straight woman, whose interests lie in playing mind games with Jane and fucking Red John. The serial killer’s mistress probably doesn’t have time for silly things like crushes and infatuations.
Or, Lisbon hopes she doesn’t anyway.
(It’s not that Lorelei’s not beautiful. In fact, Lorelei is gorgeous. But Lisbon’s not about to vocalize that, considering Lorelei’s ego is probably already inflated from having gotten sex with a celibate man.)
Lorelei flutters her eyelashes again. “You ask a hefty question, lover.” Lisbon’s heart nearly explodes from her chest. Lorelei’s answer wasn’t exactly a no, but it wasn’t exactly a yes either. “Tell me, Patrick, is Teresa watching us right now?”
Jane’s eyes find hers from the interrogation room, and Lisbon can’t help but nod - even if he can’t see her.
“Lisbon’s in the other room, yes,” Jane tells Lorelei. “I’d invite her in here, but something tells me you’d enjoy that.”
It’s Lorelei’s turn to blush.
Lisbon curses.
“Want me to read your mind, Lorelei?”
Lorelei smiles politely. “I’m still waiting for the psychic readings of Patrick Jane.”
“No such thing as psychics.”
Lorelei pushes herself closer to the interrogation table. “What am I thinking, lover?”
Jane says nothing for a moment, and then, he starts speaking again. “You’re having naughty thoughts about Lisbon and I.” He glances upwards. “My. You shouldn’t use those kinds of words, Lorelei. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
Lorelei doesn’t deny it. “My mother taught me that if I want something in life, I should go for it unapologetically.”
“Liar,” Jane calls. “Your mother wasn’t around much as a child. Probably too busy doing drugs or some other nefarious wrongdoing.”
Lorelei smiles. “Well done, Patrick. I can’t lie to you, can I?”
“No, so once again, are you attracted to Teresa and I?”
Lorelei turns her head by to stare at the reflective glass. “And Teresa’s just beyond the glass?”
Jane nods. “Probably getting frustrated from a lack of yes or no answer.”
Lisbon shakes her head. She’s not frustrated with Lorelei Martins, she’s frustrated with Patrick Jane. He obviously can read everyone, except for her? How does that make any sense? She’s been into him for years , and yet, he sleeps with Red John’s mistress the first chance he gets.
She tells herself she’s not jealous, but who is she kidding? Lorelei is gorgeous, and Lisbon is just…well, Lisbon.
“Can’t have that, can we?” Lorelei asks.
Jane chuckles. “No.”
Lorelei wets her lips with her tongue. “Since you can apparently read my mind, you tell me.”
Jane closes his eyes for a moment, his fingers brushing against Lorelei’s open hand upon the tarnished table. “You’ve always been a little bisexual, Lorelei. No need to deny it. You want someone good in the sheets, and you think Lisbon would be good.” He quirks his lips. “Which she would be. Messy women tend to make good lovers.”
Damn him!
Lisbon leans forward to pound on the glass, when Lorelei softly sighs. “Oh lover. Is it so wrong to imagine the both of you, lying on either side of me? Is it wrong to imagine myself tongue-fucking your partner? Or allowing myself to lazily lick your dick, like some type of lollipop?”
Lorelei, to her credit, doesn’t even blush at the admission or the tirade of dirty words flowing from her mouth.
“See, Patrick,” Lorelei continues, adjusting herself on the metal chair. “Teresa has those same thoughts about you. She wants you to bend her over this table and take her like the filthy animal she is, and quite frankly, I want to watch.”
Lisbon’s breath hitches at the thought.
“I want her to dominate me,” Lorelei continues softly. “Her hand hitting my bare backside for every little thing I’ve done wrong.” Lisbon swears she can smell Lorelei’s arousal. “I want you to ride me, as I pump my tongue in-and-out of her sweet little pussy.”
Lisbon feels dizzy all-of-a-sudden, and Jane appears flushed.
“Does that answer your question, lover?”
::::
In bed, under her heavy comforter with the air conditioning blasting, Lisbon considers Lorelei’s words. Dipping her hands beneath the elastic of the boxers she wears, she circles her opening with her pointer finger, before she slides the digit within herself. Rubbing against the inner wall of her clit, Lisbon moans.
What would it be like to have Jane inside her? Or Lorelei’s wet tongue? Lisbon closes her eyes and imagines Jane’s fingers on her breasts and Lorelei’s tongue inside her, swirling until she’s screaming both of their names into the night.
(It’s only afterwards, throwing her wet sheets into the washer, that Lisbon realizes how fucked she is.)
::::
“When did you want to get that dinner?” Jane asks her, the next day, as she’s filling out paperwork. Lisbon, Jane notes, looks perfectly relaxed; and it’s something he’d like to see more often.
“Dinner?” Lisbon asks, and he thinks she must have forgotten their little bet. He smiles at her, and thinks that won’t do at all .
“You know, dinner; where one person goes to get food, so they don’t die of starvation.” He watches Lisbon roll her eyes, and he laughs. “Anyway, you owe me dinner. Where are we going?”
Lisbon glances upwards. “Does it have to be right this minute?” She glances back down, her hands gesturing toward her paperwork. “Thanks to you, I’m filling out a novel.”
He beams. “Job security, Lisbon.”
She shakes her head. “Job security, my ass.” She pauses, returning to the paperwork. “Jane. Did you put in for a conjugal visit with Lorelei Martins?”
“It was the only way I could see her talking,” Jane offers, and Lisbon looks disgusted for just a moment, until she tilts her head. “You’re obviously thinking about something, and I’m going to guess it’s not the number 63.”
“You’re not going without me,” Lisbon tells him. Jane stares at her, surprise written across his face. “What? Lorelei Martins likes us both. I think together, we could convince her to give up Red John.” Jane blinks at Lisbon.
“Lisbon…”
“What?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself involved in.”
“Jane,” Lisbon replies. “Is it going to be worse than nearly losing the job of three individuals, almost getting yourself killed by a serial killer’s mistress, and killing our former boss?”
“No…”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Lisbon,” Jane answers slowly. “We’re having a conjugal visit , not a snowball fight.”
“I’m not an idiot, Jane; I know what a conjugal visit is.”
“Then you know it’s no place for you.” Lisbon meets his stare head on, and he refuses to back down. “You and I don’t even like each other like that.”
“Jane,” Lisbon interrupts. “You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
“I must have been in a fever dream,” Jane tells her, and Lisbon rolls her eyes, before she stands, and pushes him against her couch. He starts to interrupt, when she presses her lips to his, and kisses him passionately; her tongue mingles with his, and she closes her eyes. “Lisbon. Teresa. We can’t do this.”
“Any why not?” Lisbon asks, after she’s taken six steps back. “Is it because you love Lorelei Martins?”
Jane sighs. It’s not because he loves Lorelei Martins, but it’s because Lisbon deserves far better than him.
“Well?” She asks, after a moment of silence, and because he can’t think of a better answer, he relents.
“Fine.”
::::
The conjugal trailer is a lot smaller than Lisbon imagines, as the three of them cram themselves into the room with a single bed and a couch, that’s probably seen far better days.
Lorelei looks between them both. “I was expecting Patrick, not Teresa to boot.”
Lisbon crosses her arms. “Change in plans.”
Jane glances between the two; both beautiful, both wholesome in their own ways. “Teresa decided I needed a chaperone.” Lisbon glares. “What? We’re all three in this conjugal trailer. What more do you want from me, woman?”
Lisbon moves to the couch, sitting herself delicately on the furniture. “Go ahead.” She glances at her phone, and Jane nearly chuckles. He’s not about to have sex with Lorelei, while Lisbon watches. He’s many things, but he’s not about to let Lisbon become a voyeur to his ways.
So, instead, he proposes a new plan. “How about the three of us share a bed?”
Lisbon looks so uncomfortable, it almost makes him laugh at her. “I…what?”
Lorelei moves to lie on the bed, before she pats the spot next to her, “Come on, Teresa. The bed is big enough for all of us.” Lisbon glances at her, as if she’s lost her damned mind — which Jane supposes is an appropriate response. After all, he is asking her to share a bed with him and a serial killer’s mistress. “You know people have probably had sex on that too, right?”
Lisbon shoots up, almost immediately. “Oh god. I need a shower.”
“I’d like to watch that,” Lorelei admits coyly, and Lisbon nearly turns three shades of purple. Jane can’t help himself, so he laughs. “Come now, Teresa. Lie with us. I’ll tell you both about Red John that way.”
Reluctantly, Lisbon looks to Jane, and Jane looks to Lorelei, who is wearing an expression of innocence. “Lisbon, please.”
Lisbon sighs under her breath, and then relents by moving to the bed with them. Jane remains in the middle, while Lorelei moves to his right, and Lisbon hesitantly slips in on his left. Under the covers, Jane takes one of Lorelei’s and one of Lisbon’s hands in his own.
He smiles into the darkness, after the light automatically times out.