Heart's Surrender (2 page)

CHAPTER 3

“Good evening, Mrs. Jennings.”

Gillian smiled at the elderly doorman. “Good evening, Thomas. There will be a visitor arriving within the next ten to fifteen minutes. A friend. Her name is Sam Cellar.”

Thomas’ face showed his standard expression of polite indifference. “Yes, Mrs. Jennings.”

“Thank you, Thomas.” Gillian’s high heels echoed loudly on the marble floor. She stepped into the elevator and punched the button for her floor.

Excitement tingled through her when she thought about the night that lay ahead. Part of it was the thrill of having sex with a stranger—a female stranger—in her deceased husband’s apartment. The other part was the thrill of danger. Sex with strangers was never totally safe—something she was well aware of. So far luck had been on her side. Meeting women at the city apartment was as safe as encounters of this sort could get. Most of them had been at least pleasant.
Let’s hope the new conquest will be as hot as she looks.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. There was no one to be seen in the short hallway as Gillian fumbled with the key for the apartment. Finally, the door opened, she stepped inside and slipped out of her coat. Her new conquest would be here soon—if she hadn’t chickened out. For a short moment back in the bar, Gillian had been sure that Sam wouldn’t agree to her offer. Hooking up with the butch looking woman had been a spur of the moment decision. Gillian’s other “dates” had been chosen more carefully and been more…sophisticated.
I just hope this one doesn’t bite me in the ass.
She grinned.
Well, at least not more than I want her to.
Sam’s cocky smile had done funny things to Gillian. And that body certainly had looked hot.
Really hot.

Gillian kicked off her shoes and for a moment reveled in the quiet surrounding her. No outside sound invaded the apartment. It was the perfect refuge, a sanctuary of peace amidst an avalanche of noise in the busy city of Springfield. However, she very much doubted that this had been the main reason why Derrick had chosen this place. He had probably gone for the anonymity and luxury it provided. Which suited her just fine.

She went over to the sideboard, opened a drawer, and took out a silver-framed photo, staring into the eyes of the man she had married a long time ago. A man who had betrayed her. Cheated on her. “Well, here you go, Derrick. Hot date number seven. It’s a shame you can’t be here to witness it.” She took a deep breath. “Rot in hell.”

Straightening her shoulders, she pushed the photo back into the drawer. Time to freshen up. She wanted to be as sexy and desirable as possible when Sam arrived.

Sam looked up at the apartment complex in front of her. More and more of those glass and steel things had appeared over the past years. Springfield nowadays was a rather busy town. And people living in places like this certainly had enough money to spend their nights in clubs like The Pulse. Probably every night. Sam wrinkled her nose.
Let’s hope she’s worth my time…

A uniformed doorman appeared from inside the building.

Sam strolled over, nodding her head in greeting. “Hi, I’m here for Mrs. Jennings.”

The doorman squinted. “Are you Mrs. Cellar?”

“Yes, that would be me, and a good evening to you.”
Snobby little man.

His gaze intensified. “Samantha?”

Sam’s heart stopped beating for a moment.
Shit! Thomas.

“Girl, is that really you? I nearly didn’t recognize you with that short hair and,” he looked her over, “those clothes.”

For a moment, she considered turning around and leaving. Surely no sex, no matter how good, was worth this kind of trouble. Sam forced herself to calm down. Thomas had always been kind to her. It would be rude to leave without a few words. “Thomas, right?” She held out her hand. “How are you?”

“Good, good. Getting older every day.” He gripped her hand. “How are you?”

It was true. He was a lot older than the last time she had seen him around…
wow, twenty years or so
.
I must have been around seventeen back then.
Now gray dominated his hair, and he sure didn’t stand as straight as he had back then. The wrinkles on his face looked as deep as the Grand Canyon, but the kindness in his eyes was the same. Sam returned his smile and winked at him. “I’m all right. Thanks. But I’m getting older as well.”

“Oh, come on.” He took a step back and looked her up and down. “Look at you. Healthy as a horse and as beautiful as a blazing sunset.”

Sam chuckled. “Thanks. I’ve never been compared to a sunset before.”

“How is your family doing?”

Sam pushed her hands into the pockets of her trousers.
What am I supposed to say? Haven’t seen the bastards for ages?
She simply didn’t want to talk about it…about them. Not with Thomas. Not with anyone. “Maybe we can chat another time? I have an, ugh, appointment.” Gosh, that sounded so lame. She wondered whether he had any idea why she was here.

He laughed. “Sure, no problem. I’m off in half an hour. So I’m probably not going to see you again tonight.”

Relief flowed through her. As nice as Thomas was, she just wasn’t ready to be drawn into memories of their shared past. “Maybe another time. It was nice seeing you.”

“Likewise. Give my regards to your parents.”

“I will.”
When hell freezes over.
Sam crossed the hall, feeling his gaze following her. Shit, that had been weird. Weirder than weird. She couldn’t even remember when she had last met someone she knew back in what she called nowadays the “dark ages”.
Well, you knew it would happen one day. Just be glad it was Thomas instead of your father or brother.

The elevator dinged its arrival.

Sam stepped inside. She leaned her forehead against one wall, letting the cold of the stainless steel reach through her brain. Her mood for sex had been pulverized. However, the prospect of spending the night alone in her flat, haunted by memories of the past, wasn’t appealing either. She had about two minutes to make her mind up. Go home? Drive to The Labrys and get drunk
…
and most likely end up in a stranger’s bed? The stranger and sex part was something she could have here and now as well. Without getting drunk first. Sam raked a hand through her hair. She would stay, try to get in the mood again, enjoy a night of hedonism and be out of here in the morning. Determined, Sam stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall. Apartment 241. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

“There you are,” Gillian said with a smile when she opened the door.

For the second time tonight, Sam felt herself drawn into those unbelievably green eyes. They reminded her of the emerald earrings her grandmother used to wear for special occasions. As green as Ireland’s hills, the old lady had always said. Sam swallowed. “Hi, yes. Here I am.”

“Please, do come in.”

Wide-eyed, Sam stepped inside. Dark brown and black leather furniture dominated the room.
This is her place?
Everything was practically screaming “testosterone”. Sam could envision a stuffy lawyer or a banker hit by his midlife crises choosing this interior. But certainly not a woman like Gillian. Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do you…would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, please, a beer would be great.”
Sam followed Gillian into the stainless steel kitchen. Speechless she looked around. All the latest gadgets were assembled in this room. Not a single speck of dust seemed brave enough to hang around.
This is
a showroom. Beautiful but sterile. Oh please…don’t let her be like that kitchen.
Sam needed to let off steam tonight.
She wanted to forget and to get lost. If this kitchen reflected its owner’s attitude…then this evening was destined to be a disaster.

Gillian removed a bottle of beer from the Subzero refrigerator. After twisting off the cap, she handed the opened bottle over.

Sam mentally gave her a point—the beer was a pricy brand but acceptable. Not the same kind of shit as in the club. Raising the bottle with a thankful smile, she drank deeply, enjoying how the smooth, cold drink went down, before focusing her attention again on Gillian, who had poured herself a glass of white wine. Sam cleared her throat. “Live here long?”

“No.” Gillian frowned. “I don’t live here. It’s just a place I use from time to time if I want to stay in the city.”

“So, you don’t own it?”

“Oh, yes. I do.” Gillian must have found something very interesting at the bottom of her glass because she continued to stare into it.

There was certainly an interesting story lurking behind those words.
Come on. She asked you here for a hot night.
For sex.
Either leave now or get on with it and find out if this is going to be fun or not.
“Well, here we are.” Sam took another gulp of beer before setting the bottle aside and stepping closer to Gillian. “Let’s not waste more time.” Sam lowered her voice. “I can’t wait to taste you, Gillian.”

Gillian’s eyes were round as she looked up, away, then with a quick brush of her eyes, back at Sam.

Like a spooked animal.
Sam bent her head and brushed her lips over Gillian’s. Once, twice, enjoying their softness before breaking the contact again.

Gillian blinked, a slow smile spreading over her face.

Sam smiled.
All right. That is a good sign.
“I love the way you feel,” she said, touching Gillian’s face and brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of the woman’s eyes.

“I love the way you kiss,” Gillian replied after a moment’s hesitation. She nuzzled Sam’s palm and pressed a tingling kiss to the center.

Yes. This is going to be fun.
“Oh, the rest of the night will be more than nice, I promise you.” She kissed Gillian again, this time no gentle brush of lips but a bit more roughly, more demanding. Missionary style or cuddling wasn’t what she had in mind for tonight. Either Gillian would play along or not. Better to find out now.

To Sam’s delight Gillian opened her mouth, her tongue touching Sam’s. The sensation was wet and soft, sending shivers down Sam’s spine, urging on the desire that all but vanished downstairs.

Sam sucked on Gillian’s tongue until she let out a muffled moan, her body flexing and arching.

Gillian grabbed Sam’s hand and brought it to her breast.

Sam cupped the heavy weight of Gillian’s breast and let her thumbnail scratch at the nipple that was prominent through the light fabric. Gillian’s jerk and sharp intake of breath encouraged her to take the sensitive nipple between her thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently while she bit down on the lush perfection of Gillian’s lower lip.

It was maddening, how playing with Gillian’s breasts increased Sam’s own need and desire. She whispered in Gillian’s ear, “You’re going to be a good fuck, aren’t you?”

Gillian gulped and stared, not speaking even when Sam took hold of her nipple and gave it a twist that had Gillian squeaking, but not pulling away.

“Want to play with me, Gillian?” Sam asked, releasing the abused nipple. “I wanna play a bit rough. Wanna play with me?”

Gillian flushed. She was obviously fighting inner turmoil as she regarded Sam with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

To Sam’s satisfaction, there was not a shred of regret or fear in her expression. It seemed that so far, she had done and said the right things. Encouraged, she moved closer to Gillian until their bodies were touching in all the right places. “Tell me, Gillian,” she said pitching her voice low. “How do you want to come tonight?”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to tell me how you want to come,” Sam repeated. “What do you like? Do you want me to take my time, or would you like to come hard and fast? Would you like my mouth on you, or do you want me to watch while you take care of yourself? Do you like anal stimulation? Are there toys you want me to use? Tell me. I want us to make the best use of our time.”

Gillian’s eyes were dark pools of desire.

Sam tried to ignore her own rising hunger while Gillian nibbled on her bottom lip, clearly unsure about how to continue. But Sam remained silent until Gillian finally asked, almost shyly, “You really want to know what I like?”

Sam nodded and put some distance between them. “Yes. I want us both to have a good time, Gillian. Talking can be foreplay, too.” She tilted her head to show that she was listening closely to whatever Gillian chose to say. At the same time, Sam began to massage the crotch of her jeans, where the seam rubbed against her pussy, stimulating herself with a hint of pain, and a whole lot of arousal. “Like I said,” she went on, her voice getting rough, “I absolutely think it’s hot to hear you, to watch you telling me how you want to be pleased.”

Gillian’s gaze flickered down to Sam’s busy hand and remained there. Her breath hitched as the color rose in her cheeks.

Sam spread her legs wider, thrusting her hips a bit, really getting into it.

Gillian’s pupils dilated, her blush deepened. “I want you to take me right here.” She glanced up at Sam.

Sam groaned. The expression in those green eyes took her breath away. There was hunger and raw lust, mixed with shyness and vulnerability—the most endearing emotional mix. Thinking about getting Gillian off right here and now was a definite turn on. If she was only half as wet as Sam had become just by thinking about it…well, she would find out soon enough. Sam stopped stroking her denim-clad crotch and pulled off her jacket, holding eye contact as she draped the garment over the back of a chair. She slowly rolled up her shirt sleeves, showing off her muscular forearms. Keeping herself in shape was important to Sam and physical labor had given her a sturdy musculature that she knew most femmes found attractive. Gillian wasn’t any different, if Sam read her admiring gaze correctly. She reached out to unbutton Gillian’s dress. “Really thoughtful of you to wear a dress with buttons in the front. That way I don’t have to rip it off.”

Gillian’s eyes followed the path of Sam’s fingers.

Delightfully pale flesh was exposed as Sam slowly flicked the buttons open one by one until she was able to slide Gillian’s dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of black satin, leaving her in a black lacy bra and matching panties.