Heart's Surrender (6 page)

“Oh, God,” Gillian moaned, clearly on the edge.

Sam felt the motions as Gillian began to fuck herself. Sam moved between Gillian’s thighs, hauling her up on her knees so that Sam had access to those wonderful buttocks. Wetting her finger once again, she began playing with Gillian’s asshole. It was a deeply intimate act that Sam didn’t perform often. Trust was needed. And trust was given tonight.

Gillian all but shrieked when Sam dipped the tip of her finger inside the tight hole. There was momentary resistance, then the muscle relaxed, and Sam’s finger slid inside past the knuckle. “You all right, there?”

“Yeah. It just…it’s weird.”

“Do you want me to stop?”
Please don’t.

“No, don’t…don’t stop.”

Soon Gillian was making noises that drove Sam absolutely nuts. This time, she did not deny the groan that escaped her own throat. There was no point concealing how much she was aroused, how much her own body throbbed and begged for relief. The sight, the smell, the sound of Gillian was edged into Sam’s mind. She could not control the passion that shook her to the core, nor did she want to. Sam touched her own clit, rubbing it hard, while finger-fucking Gillian’s ass. Coordination was not easy, but she had the greatest incentive in the world. “Come on, baby,” she whispered. “I want to come with you. Let me hear you. Come with me.”

Gillian climaxed, crying Sam’s name out loud.

Sam sobbed, driven over the edge right after Gillian. Light burst in Sam’s vision as pleasure hummed through her. Spent, she managed to withdraw her finger from Gillian’s ass before crashing down on the bed, at the last moment shifting so she did not land atop her lover but beside her.

Gillian immediately rolled into Sam’s embrace, her face slack with pleasure.

Sam wrapped her arm around Gillian, careful to not touch her with her other hand. Skin against skin, sweat cooling on both their bodies…as far as she was concerned, intimacy had never felt so good. “You know,” Sam remarked, still basking in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm, “that was mind-blowing.”

Gillian chuckled, slowly tracing patterns on Sam’s arm with her fingernails, scratching lightly. “It was. When I saw you in the bar, the first time…I thought that you would be one of those typical butches. Just doing your thing with me.”

Startled, Sam stared. “Doing my thing?”

“Yeah.” Gillian blushed. “Doing your thing.”

Sam had no idea where this was going.

Gillian brushed her lips over Sam’s mouth before continuing, “You’re not my first one-night stand, I’ve had a few these past months but…I made wrong assumptions about you. You’re so attuned to what I want, what I need, and I feel so cherished, safe with you. Thank you.”

Sam kept quiet. She did not always care about what her bed partners thought, or whether they left her satisfied, but Gillian was different in a way she could not define. Sam didn’t know how to reply. The fact that Gillian had kids and maybe was even married and had other one-night stands…
What have I been thinking?
Sam’s stomach sank. Her old instinct to flee when things were too much raised its ugly head once more. She pushed it down.
No. You’ll talk this through on Wednesday. Calm down. Just a few more days.

Oblivious to Sam’s struggle Gillian rolled on top of her, touching their foreheads together. Her hair hung like a curtain around them, blocking out the view of the bedroom, creating a private space that encompassed just the two of them. “Hey, would you like to shower together?” Gillian asked shyly. “We’ve gotten dirty…now I guess we’d better get clean.”

Sam swallowed hard. The world had gone crazy, she was crazy. “Yes,” Sam said, rolling them both over until she was able to tumble out of bed, leaving Gillian flat on her back and breathless. “Race you to the bathroom and that obscenely big tub. First one there chooses position,” she continued.

Off she went, a giggling Gillian following close on her heels.

CHAPTER 7

“Angela, if you’re not out of here in thirty seconds…” Gillian let the threat hang loosely in the air. This was a game she and her daughter played several times a week. Angela was a bit of a slob—with her room as well as when it came to time management. A fact that had driven Derrick mad. He, the perfect lawyer, had always been on time for appointments and had been neat, bordering on anal. Which had driven Gillian as crazy as Angela’s behavior did.

“Bye, Mom.” Angela waved her goodbye as she hurried down the driveway, lunch pack in one hand and smart phone in the other.

Gillian ran a hand through her hair. “One of these days I’m going to throttle her.” She was not a morning person herself. Having children hadn’t changed that. But au pair or not—she wanted to be the one to send the children off in the morning.

“I have to run as well.” Tilde rushed by Gillian. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

“Do you have the shopping list?”

“Yeah,” Tilde held a sheet of paper in the air. “All under control. And I’ll even bring us back lunch.”

“It’s like standing in the middle of a mad highway rush,” Gillian mumbled, before turning back into the house and closing the door. With Angela, Michael, and Tilde out of the house the only sound that reached her ears was the ticking of the kitchen clock. Gillian rolled up the sleeves on her sweater and made her way to the stereo in the living room. Music was what she used as a crutch to find peace when she was alone and solitude threatened to turn into pain.

Moments later Melody Gardot’s voice drifted through the air like a sweet-smelling perfume.

Gillian sighed.
Better.
Her gaze went to the sideboard and the portraits, standing there like little beacons of her former life. The picture in the center portrayed Derrick and her, standing together with his parents. Everything looked so…artificial and…happy…and obscenely Disneyesque. She hated that picture as much as her life back then. Gillian put the picture facedown.

There was another one that was as horrible as a toothache. The kids in their best clothes like little soldiers with no smiles on their faces. Gillian rubbed her hands over her face. Derrick had used the same picture for his little happy family shrine at work. One time she had joked half-heartedly that lawyers tended to show off pictures of their families like some kind of trophy they had won. Derrick hadn’t gotten the joke which was never meant to be one in the first place. Gillian put the picture facedown with a satisfying thump.

Her eyes wandered to the portrait of Derrick and the Governor, shaking hands in a glossy black and white shot. Important people who helped to speed up slimy business deals. She sneered and put that picture down as well.

The next picture to catch her eye was the wedding picture, taken at a time when she was so sure she was in love with Derrick. Gillian’s fingers touched the glass. Had that been really her? A smile as dazzling as Derrick’s. Back then she had thought that Prince Charming had stumbled into her life. A law firm partner marrying his secretary…the stuff fairytales were made of. But not every fairytale had a happy ending. She willed her face not to crumple. This had been one huge mistake—on both sides.

She ran her finger over a picture of the kids hugging her. That had been a wonderful summer day out on the boat with Derrick’s parents. A smile found its way onto Gillian’s face. The kids really were the only good thing that had come out of that damn marriage.

Gosh, she’d love to have a drink. A strong one. Her gaze wandered to the antique oak framed Tantalus that her father-in-law had given Derrick for Christmas several years ago. The sparkly crystal decanters the Tantalus held were beckoning her. Gillian turned away. Alcohol was one of the temptations she had sworn to stay away from. A glass of wine now and then in the evening was all she allowed herself. But never before six. And sure as hell never more than one. Gillian raised a slightly shaking hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. No alcohol. Coffee it was.

A while later she stood at the kitchen window, coffee cup in her hand. The view outside was peaceful. The neighborhood was a good one. At least that was what Derrick had said. Back then. And part of it was true. It was a safe place with lots of well-trimmed lawns and quiet neighbors. She had even made some superficial friendships. As peaceful as it was—this was not the place she wanted to continue living. Gillian took a sip of her coffee, enjoying the slightly bitter brew. She had never wished for Derrick to die. But it hadn’t taken long before she realized that his death had freed her and that his absence from her life was a chance to escape what she had come to despise. Not to go back to her old life. She grimaced. No, that hadn’t been all red roses either.

The only problem was that escaping from something was not enough. She still hadn’t figured out where to escape to. The only thing she knew with absolute certainty was that she wanted, no, needed to find a life that would give her and the children equal happiness. No more, nor less. If there was one thing she had learned over those past unhappy years it was that she wouldn’t be a good mother to her children if she wasn’t happy herself.

She took another sip of her coffee and enjoyed how the strong brew tickled her taste buds awake. There was one thing…one person that had brought a tiny piece of happiness into her life.
Sam
. Being with Sam had been different to her former one night-stands...two night-stands…Sam stirred a hunger in Gillian. It wasn’t only the sex they had. Gillian grinned. Though the sex was really, really good.

Gillian turned away from the window. She didn’t really know what to do with Sam. And what did Sam want from her? Gillian had found her thoughts straying to the other woman more and more often, wondering what she was doing at the moment…and if Sam was also thinking of her. Which was stupid. They had met twice and had spent most of that time in bed, not talking.
But we’ll talk tomorrow on our date.

Date.
Gillian chewed on her lower lip. The word sounded strange in her head. She had a date with a stranger who knew her body intimately. But could someone like Sam ever be more than an occasional lover? Besides…would Sam even want to explore the possibility of more? Or would she run screaming into the night as soon as she realized that Gillian came with a package? Well, two packages; one about to hit puberty and the other being a dreamy boy.

She set the coffee cup down. One thing was sure. Neither Sam nor anyone else would ever again be the sole person she’d build her happiness on. As tempting as the thought of finding someone…the special someone was. Nope. No way. Not anymore. Her life, her goals, and her happiness. That was something she would be happy to share with the right person. But she sure as hell would never give it up again. Not for someone else. “All right. Stop this. Time to do something.” Gillian picked up the phone and dialed her real estate agent’s number. “Hello Caroline. I’m ready for some house-hunting.”

CHAPTER 8

Gillian arrived a few minutes late to La Trattoria, the Italian restaurant Sam had chosen for their “first” date. Romance however was not on Gillian’s mind. Traffic on the streets had been mad, as had the phone call from her mother-in-law, just when Gillian had been about to leave the house. Thinking back to the call made Gillian grind her teeth. The woman was driving her crazy and brought the term “evil mother in law” to a whole new level. The name Tilde had given her fit—dragon lady.

Thankfully parking spaces were reserved for guests of the restaurant Sam had chosen. Gillian sighed in relief. Maybe the day would get better. It simply had to. Appearing late for the date as if she didn’t care wasn’t the kind of impression she wanted to give Sam. Due to the stupid phone call there hadn’t even been time to obsess about a special outfit for tonight.

Gillian killed the engine, took a deep breath and got out of the car.
Romantic dinner.
How do I get in the mood for this?
She closed her eyes and pictured Sam. Beautiful and strong Sam. The woman who had taught Gillian more about her own body and about sex in two nights than any other person had before. She shivered. It would be so much easier if tonight was just another of those hot, sweaty dates they already shared. But this was not about sex and
Gillian’s nerves were fried. She clenched and unclenched her hands to get rid of the tingling caused by the nervous energy coursing through her body. What if this, tonight, didn’t work out? What if they found out that they had nothing to talk about, nothing in common? What if Sam was as much of a bore as Gillian felt most days? Think positive! She looked up at the sky. Dusk was settling on the city.
Maybe we’ll like talking as much as we like fucking each other senseless.

A couple entered the restaurant hand in hand, laughing and happy. In love. The light shining through the restaurant’s windows was inviting. La Trattoria looked like a family owned place. Visions of handmade pasta and crunchy garlic bread swirled around Gillian’s head. She chuckled to herself.
Bad girl.
No garlic breath.
No sex didn’t mean no kissing and she was determined to steal at least one kiss tonight. Gillian ran a finger over her lips. Sam was a great kisser.

The aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and fresh bread tickled Gillian’s nose when she entered the restaurant. Her mouth watered.
Nice.
She let her gaze wander around. Small niches in the back of the room and a softly dimmed light created a warm atmosphere. Most tables were occupied, but the noise level was low enough to hear the soft Italian music that played in the background. La Trattoria seemed a perfect choice for a romantic dinner on neutral territory.

Some guests glanced her way. With relief, she noticed that she didn’t recognize anyone. She realized something else as well—the one face she came to see tonight wasn’t here. Sam
.

A young woman who was the embodiment of an Italian beauty advanced toward Gillian. She had dark curly hair, a very stylish red dress and legs that went on and on and on. “
Buona sera
, welcome to La Trattoria. How can I help you?”

“Good evening.” Gillian took another look around the restaurant, still coming up empty. “I’m supposed to meet Sam here tonight. I believe she made reservations.”

The woman slowly looked her up and down. “
Si, si
. Sam is waiting for you. Please follow me.” The hostess turned around and went to the back of the room.

They are on a first name basis?
Frowning, Gillian followed through a door that was partly hidden behind a huge plant. They walked along a semi-dark corridor until the hostess stopped.

“Sam reserved a private room for tonight. Enjoy your meal.” The hostess winked at Gillian, and opened the door to her left.

Gillian fought against the non-romantic urge to whistle. A bouquet of red roses dominated the wooden table in the middle of the room. Burning candles framed a Champagne bottle cooler that held a bottle of Dom Pérignon
.
And on a chair sat Sam.
Oh my.
Dressed in a dark blue button-down shirt and black slacks, she looked sexy as hell. Knowing what lay under those clothes woke Gillian’s desire with lightning speed. She smoothed the fabric of her blouse with shaking fingers, unsure what to do, how to behave on the unfamiliar territory of a real date…with a woman.
With Sam.

The smile on Sam’s face when she got up from her chair and crossed the distance between them was as bright as a spotlight. “Hi there. You look absolutely lovely.” Sam picked a rose out of the bouquet and held it out to Gillian. “No thorns.”

Gillian took the rose, her throat tightening. She brought it to her nose and inhaled. The sweet scent reminded her of springtime and new beginnings. “Thank you.” Not even when they had started to date had Derrick had he ever done something equally romantic. In fact…no-one had ever done something like this for her. She smiled at Sam. “This is…just wow.”

Sam let her fingers trail down the side of Gillian’s arm before she gently kissed her cheek. “You take my breath away. Thank you for spending the evening with me.”

The slight huskiness in Sam’s voice sent a shiver down Gillian’s spine. Her eyes traced the gentle arch of Sam’s lips. Lips she had tasted. Lips that had feasted on her.
Shit. No sex.
This was going to be an interesting evening.

Sam took a bite of her lamb filet, enjoying the mild aroma of rosemary that caressed her tongue. She had been looking forward to the food. La Trattoria was one of her favorite restaurants, the owner, Luca, and his daughter Diana, old friends. As much as she enjoyed the Italian cuisine, the food took only second place tonight. Gillian was the center. And what a beautiful center she was. With her simple light blue blouse, neatly pressed black slacks, and sleek pointed heels, Gillian had taken Sam’s breath away when she had appeared in the door. Nearly ten minutes late. Sam had been a nervous wreck by then, afraid that Gillian wouldn’t show up at all.

Oblivious to Sam’s thoughts, Gillian hummed, seeming to enjoy her tuna. Which was a good thing. The location obviously was a hit. The food was great. Right. So…the small talk was a bit difficult. But that was why they were here. To talk and get to know each other better outside of the bedroom and the shower and... Sam cleared her throat. “So how was your day?”

“Actually, quite good.” Gillian speared a piece of tuna with her fork. “I was house-hunting.”

Sam nodded.
House-hunting. Right.
“So, what are you looking for?”

“Something not as big as the one we own now.” Gillian frowned while chewing. “And in a different neighborhood. A garden is a must. A swimming pool would be nice. For the children. A large master bedroom with direct access to the garden would be great. For me.”

Children.
One question answered.
How do I ask her if there’s a father around?
Shit.
Sam took a sip of her wine before asking, “And did you find something?”

Gillian shook her head. “Today was more a confirmation of what I don’t want. But that’s all right. The search continues next week.” Gillian tilted her head and smiled that special smile that caused Sam’s stomach to do a flip-flop every single time it was directed her way.

“So,” Sam cleared her throat, “you and your children?”

Gillian hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yes, Angela and Michael and well, there’s also Tilde, our au pair.”

So, wherever the father was, he was not in the picture for the move. Sam shuffled the potatoes around on her plate.
Is she divorced from the father? Or maybe she is divorced from her wife?
Everything was possible. However, Sam was sure these were questions one didn’t ask on a first date. “How old are your children?”

“Angela is eleven and Michael is six.” Gillian’s voice was soft.

“And is it working out with the au pair? Do the children like her?”

Gillian nodded, her eyes sparkling “They love her. She’s very down to earth and has a hilarious sense of humor. I wouldn’t know what to do without her.” Gillian broke the eye contact and concentrated on her food.

So, is this another line drawn?
There were a thousand things Sam wanted to ask. Where was Gillian’s significant other? Why did they move? Why had she chosen Sam the first night they had met?
Keep calm. Safe questions. I need a safe question.
“And what about pets. Is there a cat or a dog in the picture?”

Gillian chuckled. “No. Angela would love to have a dog. But Michael is allergic.”

“Oh, I bet that goes over well with his sister.”

Gillian rolled her eyes. “Very true. It took a while before she stopped blaming him for not being allowed a dog.”

“Yeah. My sister and I had the same problem.”

“You have a sister?”

Sam nodded. “Do you have siblings?”

“No. Not that I know of.”

Sam frowned. That was a strange answer.

“So, you never told me how your day was.” Gillian leaned forward.

Sam hated first dates. Two strangers meeting, asking questions while trying not to cross invisible borders. Technically they weren’t strangers anymore but talking about orgasms and sex toys might not be the right thing to do for tonight. “Well, I think my day was not as interesting as yours. Work mainly.”

“What sort of work do you do?”

“I’m a handyman. Or maybe we better call it handywoman. I paint apartments, repair things, and sometimes even build smaller furniture. Stuff like that.”

“Wow. So if something is broken you can repair it?”

“Sometimes. No electrical stuff though.” Sam grinned.

“Do you like your job?”

“I do. Most of the time. Some clients suck. But most are nice. And we have some elderly clients and they really appreciate that they can rely on us to help them in their homes.” Sam laid her fork down. “And that is the kind of work that is satisfying. Not only to repair something or paint something. But to know that I’m making a difference in someone’s life.” She bit on her lower lip. Saying it out loud like that sounded lame.

“I think it is amazing to hear that you love that part of your job. I always thought that working should be about more than just money. It does make a difference if you love what you do and see a meaning in your job, right?” Her tone was almost wistful.

Sam nodded. “I agree. It’s not easy figuring out what you want to do with the rest of your life when you leave school. But later in life…I think it’s important to find out who you are and what you want to do. Life is too short to just try to please others or listen to others.”

A shadow fell over Gillian’s face. “I agree. Though following that rule is not always easy.”

“No, it isn’t.”

They stared into each other’s eyes. Gillian was the one to break the silence. “So, what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I play the guitar. Nothing fancy. Just for my pleasure. I like to read. And I love to spend time with my niece.”

An intense gaze met Sam’s. “That sounds pretty down to earth.”

Sam ran a finger over the foot of her glass. “Yes, I think my wild days are over.”

Gillian wiggled her eyebrows. “Wild days?”

Sam snorted. “No. No way I’m talking about those tonight. So, what do you do for a living Gillian?”

Gillian’s brow furrowed. “I don’t…well, I take care of the kids and the house and stuff like that. But I don’t work. Like in an office or so.”

Sam was just about to ask Gillian another question when someone knocked on the door and, without waiting for an invitation, entered. “
Buona sera. Buona sera
, Sam. Good to see you.”

Sam groaned inwardly. She loved Luca to bits. He was a great guy and something of a father figure. But she had explicitly asked him to leave them alone tonight.

“I don’t want to disturb you. Just say hi and ask if everything is fine?” Luca had a shit-eating grin on his face. Where his daughter was slim and an Italian wet dream, he was tubby and radiated an air of snugness. The mix of those personalities was what made the restaurant so successful.

Sam got up from her chair and went over to her old friend, fighting down the urge to throttle him. “Hi, thank you. Yes, the food is delicious as always.”

He looked at Gillian and lifted an eyebrow.

I don’t believe this.
Curious bastard.
“Luca, please meet Gillian. Gillian, this is my old friend, Luca.” Sam stepped aside and watched Luca and Gillian shake hands.

“Oh, but I’m not that old. How lovely to meet you, Gillian.” He waved his hand in the table’s direction. “I hope that you enjoy your food and,” his voice dropped while looking in Sam’s direction, “your company.”

Kill me now.

“Thank you very much. The food is absolutely lovely. The tuna is sheer perfection. My compliments to the chef.” She smiled at Sam. “And the company is the best I could wish for.”

Sam’s ears began to burn.

Luca chuckled. “Great, great. I leave you to your food and the good company then.” He picked up Gillian’s hand and planted a kiss on it.

Sam rolled her eyes.
Ever the charmer.