Connected Hearts - Four Lesbian Romance Stories (14 page)

“More.” Drew gasped.

More stroking?
Annie moved her finger a little faster.

Drew’s eyelids fluttered open as if it took her a lot of effort. “Another ... oh, Christ!” Her eyes slammed shut again. “Another finger. Please.”

Oh.
Careful not to hurt Drew, Annie slid another finger into Drew’s warmth.

“Yes!” Drew’s hips rose off the bed. Her breath came in ragged pants, and her moans were nearly constant now.

Thrilled by the look of complete abandon on Drew’s face, Annie moved her fingers faster.

Drew’s legs started to tremble. Incoherent sounds and gasps fell from her lips. She dug her fingers into Annie’s back. The muscles in her neck stood out in stark relief as she rolled her head from side to side. Her mouth fell open; her breathing stopped.

So beautiful.

A shudder ran through Drew’s body. Annie felt strong muscles contract around her fingers, pulling them deeper. Pleasure shot through Annie’s clit.

Then Drew covered her hand with her own, stopping Annie from moving.

With her hand still between Drew’s thighs, Annie laid her head against Drew’s chest and listened to the rapid pounding of her heart. She felt residual tremors rippling through Drew. When the strong heartbeat beneath her ear slowed to a more normal pace, Annie gently withdrew her fingers, making Drew gasp.

“You okay?” Annie asked. She lifted her hand to touch Drew’s face, then paused when she realized her fingers were wet. Blushing, she wiped them on a tissue from the nightstand.

As their bodies cooled down, Drew shivered, so Annie reached down and pulled the crumpled sheet over them.

Drew pulled Annie’s hand up and pressed a tender kiss to the inside of her wrist. “See,” she rasped, “you didn’t have any problems at all.”

Annie snuggled closer so that her head rested in the crook of Drew’s neck. “I don’t know what I expected. I thought it would be all about having the right technique, but it was … it was just amazing.”

Drew trailed her fingertips up and down Annie’s spine, making her shiver. “It was wonderful, and if we’re lucky, it’ll even get better once we’re more familiar with each other’s body.”

“Better?”
How could anything be better than this?

“Yes.” Drew laughed at her incredulous expression. “You just wait and see.”

Annie nuzzled deeper into the embrace. With Drew at her side, she was looking forward to doing just that.

###

Author’s Note:
Annie and Drew first met in
Something in the Wine
, a novel published with Ylva Publishing. It’s available as an e-book and paperback.

Jae grew up amidst the vineyards of southern Germany. She spent her childhood with her nose buried in a book, earning her the nickname “professor.” The writing bug bit her at the age of eleven. For the last six years, she has been writing mostly in English.

She works as a psychologist and likes to spend her time reading, playing board games with friends, spending time with her nieces and nephew, and watching way too many crime shows.

E-Mail:
[email protected]

Website:
http://www.jae-fiction.com

Blog:
http://www.jaefiction.wordpress.com

RJ Nolan lives in the United States with her spouse and their Great Dane. She makes frequent visits to the California coast near her home. The sight and sound of the surf always stir her muse. When not writing, she enjoys reading, camping, and the occasional trip to Disneyland.

E-Mail:
[email protected]

Website:
www.rjnolan.com

Joan Arling is a little hard to localize: She lives on German bread, French wine, Irish beer, and Dutch tobacco.

When she can afford it, she also likes whiskies from the southern coast of Islay. She’s been a truck driver, a teacher, a drug courier, and a rock musician. Her favourite pastimes are mistreating her guitar and spoiling her best friend’s three tabbies.

Oh yes, reading and writing, too.

E-Mail:
[email protected]

HOT LINE

by Alison Grey

Coming in spring 2013

Excerpt from HOT LINE

“Hi, this is Chantal. Thank you for calling,” Christina breathed into the phone.

“Um, hello,” a female voice said on the other end of the line.

Christina furrowed her brow. Women rarely called her. Not that she would have minded. She even preferred female callers because women didn’t become obscene. The calls also lasted longer, so they were more profitable for her. At least that had been the case with the three calls that she’d gotten from women since she’d started working for the sex hotline four months ago.

“You’re calling at exactly the right time. I’m just undressing to take a hot bath.” Christina made her voice sound as if she was revealing a secret. “Do you want to join me?”

“Would it be all right if we ... if we just talk?”

The woman on the other end of the line didn’t seem aroused. Christina got the feeling that this caller wasn’t interested at all in her “service.” But then why was she calling a sex hotline at two o’clock in the morning? “Baby, you can do to me whatever you want.” That sentence, presented in her low voice, always excited her male callers.

“I don’t want to do anything to you. But I’d like to tell you about my day.”

Christina lifted her brows. That was a game she hadn’t encountered before. Okay, why not?

“What’s your name?” Christina still used her sexiest, most seductive tone.

“Linda.” The caller’s voice sounded young.

“Okay, Linda, tell me about your day, honey.”

A sigh filtered through the line. “It’s my birthday today. Well, yesterday, really.”

“Oh, so happy birthday.” It wasn’t the first time callers told her it was their birthday, hoping they wouldn’t have to pay. But women weren’t that naïve.

“Thank you. I ... I’m twenty-nine now. ”

Christina grinned. So she’d been right. The caller was young. Even though she sounded younger than she really was. If she’s even telling the truth. It didn’t matter anyway. Twenty or eighty years old, on their birthday or their golden wedding anniversary like one of yesterday’s customers, they all brought in money, as long as Christina kept them on the phone long enough. “And? Did you have a nice party?”

It took a long time for Linda to answer. Finally, she said in a low voice, “I spent the whole day at the cemetery. When I got home, I wanted to get drunk, but then I changed my mind and stared at the bedroom wall for the rest of the night instead.”

Wow, this woman has got some serious problems. But why was she calling a sex hotline instead of going to see a shrink? Christina shook her head. Every minute earned her two euros, so she was more than willing to play phone shrink. “What were you doing at the cemetery?” Christina allowed herself to speak in her normal voice. This caller, Linda, if that was even her real name, definitely wasn’t interested in phone sex. Or if she was, it was a really perverted version of it.

“My parents are buried there. They ... they died exactly four years ago. They were on their way to see me for my birthday.” Linda sucked in a breath. “A truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into the tail end of a traffic jam. Exactly where my parents’ car was.” After pausing for a few seconds, she continued, “They never had a chance.”

Christina avoided imagining how the woman at the other end of the line might feel. In her job, she had learned to keep feelings out of it. “I’m very sorry.”

There was no answer.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No.” Sobbing quietly, Linda said, “It was just my parents and me.”

It was probably a mistake to ask so directly, but Christina was just too curious. “Linda, why are you alone today?”

“Because I don’t have anyone.” The caller’s voice broke.

Shit. Is she crying? Christina pressed her lips together. What was she supposed to do now? She was a phone sex worker, dammit. Not even her sisters talked about their problems with Christina because they thought she was insensitive. “Hey, Linda. Don’t cry. Everything will be fine.”

Linda blew her nose and then said, “I help people.”

Huh? “What do you mean?”

“I’m … I’m a therapist. Psychotherapist.”

Ah. So what?

“I work with people every day. I have my own practice. I leave for work early in the morning and I’ve got appointments scheduled until the evening.”

A shrink and a workaholic. Was she telling the truth? And why was she telling Christina all of this? Was she trying to show off?

“I have no family and no friend. No one. Not even colleagues.”

Slowly, Christina realized what the caller was trying to say. “And why’s that?”

For a moment, only Linda’s breathing filled the line.

“I don’t know.”

Come on. Christina shook her head. A therapist who didn’t even understand herself? “Really?”

“Since I’m a therapist, I guess the excuse I don’t like people doesn’t work, huh?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Christina laughed.

Linda exhaled. “People just scare me. It’s so easy when I interact with them on a professional basis. I like helping them, giving advice, helping them find the right way. But work is one thing. Meeting them in my private life is another.”

All right, then, but none of that had anything to do with phone sex. “Why did you call me?” Christina asked.

Linda laughed humorlessly. “It’s like you said earlier: I can do with you whatever I want.”

Christina moved the phone away from her ear and stared at it. The answer had caught her by surprise. After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat. “What do you want to do now, Linda?” She deepened her voice. The role of Chantal was her safety line.

“I want to imagine you holding me.”

“Okay,” Christina said. “That’s exactly what I’m doing right now.”

“Except for handshakes, I haven’t been touched by anyone in over a year.”

Christina furrowed her brow. This woman had to be incredibly lonely. “I’m holding you tightly.” She tried to sound as compassionate as possible. Poor woman. She’s telling the truth. No one could make up something like that. Why hadn’t she hired a prostitute? She could at least let herself be held if she didn’t want sex. If Linda was even into women. So far, nothing had indicated that she was. Or that she wasn’t. Doesn’t matter one way or the other.

“Thank you. Whatever your name might be.”

“My name is Chantal.”

“My name is Linda, but I’m fairly sure yours is not Chantal. I understand that you don’t want to tell me your real name, but please don’t lie to me.”

Christina was silent. Then she heard herself say, “Christina.” What are you doing? She’s a customer. She jumped off the bed, plodded over to her desk, and dropped onto the chair. It creaked even more loudly than usual. This was the first and definitely last time she ever revealed her real name to a customer. It was too personal. Now Linda was talking to her, to Christina, instead of a cybersex slave.

Excerpt from SOMETHING IN THE WINE by Jae

Published in October 2012

by Ylva Publishing

Drew leaned against the wall, a glass of red wine in her hand, and watched the other guests mingling in Jake’s spacious living room.

The bulky coffee table that converted into a pool table had been pushed against the wall, and now a group of guests played some kind of spin-the-bottle game on it. A burly blond man she didn’t know by name decorated his girlfriend’s hair with little cocktail umbrellas. Another guy whipped off his shirt to show off a scar that crisscrossed his chest. Others encouraged their friends with a chorus of shouts and cheers to drink as many shots as they could. No one was paying much attention to the photos of Mount Everest flashing on Jake’s giant flat-screen TV.

Drew shook her head. These people need to grow up. I haven’t acted so brainless since college. Jake and his friends hadn’t changed since then, though, and now she found she had little in common with them anymore. She knew she would keel over if she tried to keep up with their drinking.

Boy, I’m getting old. She smiled ruefully. Come on. Drink up, say hello to Jake, and get out of here. She took a big sip of red wine. Flinching, she spat it out and frowned at the glass. Ugh! What’s this? Wine or vinegar? She shook herself. Buying the cheap stuff again, Jake, my friend? She craned her neck, searching for a member of the catering staff weaving around the party guests. Ah, there.

A woman in black slacks and a white blouse gathered empty and abandoned glasses from the bar.

Drew headed toward her to get rid of the swill masquerading as wine. When the woman turned around with a tray full of glasses, Drew’s steps faltered. She stopped a few yards away. Oh, wow. She’s cute. Still watching the woman, she moved closer.

The server wasn’t the type of stunning beauty Drew was usually attracted to, but something about her captured her attention. Maybe it was the strange mix of strength and vulnerability in the woman’s features and her posture. She moved like a mouse—quietly, but efficiently, as if she didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention.

Even from a few steps away, Drew could tell that the woman was tall, but despite her height, she didn’t appear imposing. Her gaze was too shy for that. A cute nose and the gentle curve of her lips contrasted with a stubborn chin. Golden hair—the color of a fine, mature white wine—brushed against her slender shoulders. The woman took a hand off the tray to sweep an unruly strand behind her ear.

The tray tilted to one side.

Drew set down her glass and jumped forward in full knight-in-shining-armor mode to rescue the tray and the damsel in distress. She reached out just as the woman realized what was happening and straightened the tray.

Unable to stop her forward momentum, Drew collided with the tray, which catapulted one of the half-filled glasses through the air.