by Fiona Riley
She had let it mostly air dry after her play with Lucinda in the shower; she was in no rush to iron out its nature. She closed her eyes and smiled at the memory of their shower together. It had been sweet and innocent, mostly. Or at least, it had started that way. And most importantly, it had ended that way. Samantha loved the feminine strength that Lucinda brought to their relationship. Strong hands and shoulders, long, lean muscle paired with soft curves. Lucinda possessed a natural confidence and security that seamlessly transitioned between her work life and their bedroom play. She was effortlessly perfect all the time.
“What’re you thinking about?” Soft words and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder brought Samantha back to the present. She smiled.
“You.”
Lucinda kissed Samantha’s shoulder before gently running her fingers through Samantha’s hair, taking the dryer in her own hand and helping with the back. “I love when you let your natural curls come out to play.”
Samantha closed her eyes, leaning her head back into Lucinda’s touch. “I know. That’s why I didn’t straighten it.”
Lucinda smoothed her hair a bit before pulling on a curl, letting it spring back. “You’re too good to me.”
Samantha rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck as Lucinda shut off the blow dryer and set it aside. She finished applying her mascara and watched Lucinda pull her own hair into a loose braid before applying a sheer pink lip gloss. Their eyes met briefly in the mirrored glass, each of them caught staring at the other before the doorbell broke their trance.
“Ugh,” Samantha complained, “who could that be?”
“Your place not mine, babe, you tell me.”
Samantha’s eyes flickered around the room as she stood. Her landline was slightly askew; it must have been knocked off the cradle during the night. Maybe it was the concierge knocking. She wasn’t expecting any deliveries and no one would be looking for her, well, except maybe Andrew. Who she imagined at this point might be frantically searching for her. “Maybe Andrew called the cops…it’s just dramatic enough to be plausible for him.”
Lucinda walked to the phone and repositioned the receiver. “I’m sure he’s worried. You should probably call him.”
“Let him worry! Who fucking has their best friend’s girlfriend investigated?” Samantha pulled on some pants and looked for a shirt.
“Although I can’t disagree with your…irritation”—Lucinda seemed to choose her words carefully—“I’m sure he had your best interests in the forefront of his mind.”
The doorbell rang again, this time a moment longer than before. Samantha buttoned her jeans and pulled on a soft jersey T-shirt from the drawer. “You are much nicer than I am. Maybe I ought to let you get the door.” At that she padded out of the room.
Samantha opened the door and was greeted by an enormous chocolate-dipped fruit bouquet and a nervous looking doorman from the lobby. “Oh, hey”—she leaned forward and read his name tag—“Jasper. Thanks.”
He nodded and looked left and right. “Sorry Ms. Monteiro, we tried to call up but the phone was busy.” He shifted nervously on his feet as she turned from him, motioning him in.
“Sorry about that. Just set it over there, Jasper, thanks.” She hurriedly cleared off the table behind the sofa to make room.
“Um…” he mumbled as he placed the basket down, his gaze flickering around her foyer, eyes everywhere but her face.
Samantha turned slowly. “Yes?”
“I think what the poor boy is trying to spit out,” a crisp voice chimed from the doorframe, immediately sending ice down Samantha’s spine, “is you have a visitor.”
Jasper nodded apologetically before retreating and bringing two suitcases through the door. “Put them in the guest room would you, dear?” Her mother directed the panicked doorman as he glanced back up at Samantha for her consent. “It’s the second door on the right past the kitchen.”
Samantha shook her head and held out her hand. “Jasper, you can go. Thank you.” She flashed him a bright smile as he closed the door with a nod.
“They are not lackeys for you to order around, Madre,” she hissed before scooping up the fruit basket and moving it into the kitchen.
Marisol Monteiro crossed her arms and let out a heavy sigh as she followed her daughter into the kitchen. “I tried to call your phone multiple times to let you know I was coming. Why didn’t you answer?”
Samantha glanced into the living room; Lucinda must have cleaned up while she was drying her hair. The dishes were in the dishwasher and the leftovers were in the fridge. All the couch cushions had been fluffed and put back with care, and even her discarded clothing was neatly folded off to the side. She didn’t think she could love that woman any more than she did in this moment—because had her mother seen the remnants of their night, there would have been hell to pay. And a lot of explaining to do.
Marisol did not tolerate untidiness well. Forget about the prospect of her daughter’s underwear thrown across the room during a heated moment with her lover, who happened to be female. Her mother had never really approved of her dating women in the past. She had happily supplied that she was glad the phase was over when Samantha brought Eric home.
“Well it didn’t stop you from popping by, did it?”
Marisol tapped her foot. “Well?”
Samantha’s forehead creased with irritation, “Well, what?”
“Mija, don’t you think you ought to greet your mother with a hug?”
Samantha plucked the card from the fruit bouquet and tapped the envelope on the countertop. “Madre, it’s always a pleasure when you are around. Where are my manners? I’m sorry.” She slipped an arm around her mother. The exchange appeared to appease her for the moment.
“Who sent you such a beautiful bouquet?” Marisol asked, eyeing the envelope. “Eric?”
Samantha chose to ignore her mother’s obvious baiting and directed her attention to the envelope.
Samantha, I am sorry for questioning your judgment. You deserve to be happy, and I’m glad that you are. Call me. Please enjoy some fruit from your favorite fruit, Andrew XOXO
*
Lucinda hadn’t planned on spending the night at Samantha’s and definitely was not about to crawl back into her work clothes from yesterday. She shuffled through her gym bag, pulling out mascara and perfume as she heard Samantha engaging in a conversation with someone in the other room. Her cell phone chimed in the kitchen, and she heard a woman say, “So your phone does work! You were just avoiding me then?”
Answering it in her underwear was probably not the wisest idea. The clothing she had let Samantha borrow lay neatly folded on the edge of her dresser, waiting for her. She laughed and pulled them on before ducking out of the bedroom.
“Actually, that’s my phone.” Lucinda walked in slowly, holding Samantha’s cell in her hand. “Your phone died.” She held it up toward Samantha with a frown before scooping up her cell phone and silencing it.
“Samantha, why didn’t you tell me you had a guest?” the woman chided before turning toward Lucinda. “I’m Marisol, Samantha’s mother.” She extended her hand with a small smile.
Lucinda matched the smile and shook her hand. “Lucinda Moss. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Samantha’s nostrils flared slightly as she plugged in her cell and glanced down at the screen. Lucinda could see that she had six missed calls, five from Andrew, one from her mother. “Hey, Luce, look—breakfast.” Samantha smiled apologetically and motioned toward the fruit before handing Lucinda Andrew’s card.
“Breakfast?” Marisol eyed her daughter suspiciously. “It’s nearly noon, dear.”
“It’s also a weekend.” Samantha sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. “But thanks for the update.”
“Well, I’m going to use the ladies’ room. It was a long ride.”
Lucinda watched her adjust her hair before stepping out of the kitchen and into the guest bathroom. “So, she seems…nice,” she quipped
with a smile.
Samantha let her head tip back against the cabinet and groaned. “All I want to do is spend my entire weekend with you, naked, and christening every available surface. Not entertaining my mother.”
Lucinda plucked a chocolate-covered strawberry from the bouquet, stepping in front of Samantha and biting into the fruit. Samantha smiled into the kiss as Lucinda pressed the fruit and chocolate into her open mouth before pulling back with a wink. “Christening every available surface, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. Naked.”
“Sounds delicious,” Lucinda purred, as the sound of the bathroom door opening alerted her to step back.
Lucinda wiped the excess chocolate off the corner of Samantha’s lips, sucking her thumb into her own mouth and stepping to the other side of the counter.
“Lucinda,” Marisol said to her directly, “my daughter seemed against the idea of me letting that nice boy put my things in the guest room, is that because you’re staying?”
Samantha visibly cringed and turned to make coffee, except Lucinda had already made coffee, so she just shuffled nervously to find some cups. Lucinda tried her best not to laugh.
She popped a grape into her mouth and swallowed. “No, just stopped by for a little brunch. We have a standing date. I didn’t know you would be stopping by, otherwise we could have rescheduled.”
Samantha returned with three cups, quickly making hers and Lucinda’s to their liking before turning to her mother. “What brings you to town?”
Marisol took the third cup and walked over to the coffeemaker, serving herself and reaching for the milk, her back to Lucinda. “Well, I thought it might be nice to spend some quality time with my daughter. Also, I hoped I might see a few sights while I was here.”
Lucinda pulled a pineapple-and-melon flower from the bouquet and bit into the fruit, her eyes on Samantha’s reaction as she dragged her tongue along the remaining piece.
Samantha threw a grape at Lucinda and hid her smile behind her coffee mug. The bite of her prior interactions was gone now that Lucinda was doing everything in her power to make Samantha laugh or melt. She was totally winning. She asked her mother, “How long were you planning on staying?”
Marisol turned back in time to see Lucinda pop the rest of the fruit into her mouth and settle into the stool at the island. “A few days. Your father is traveling for business this week, so I won’t be missed.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” Lucinda grinned. “If you’re as charming as your daughter here, I’m sure you will be missed immensely.”
Samantha coughed into her coffee.
“At least your friends have a sense of humor, mija.” Marisol picked up Andrew’s card and frowned. “Speaking of which, where is Andrew?”
“I don’t know, call him.” Samantha took the card back before her mother could read its contents, filing it away in a drawer behind her. Her mother’s purse vibrated on the counter and Marisol answered the call, replying animatedly in Spanish and wandering into the living room.
“Ugh, it’s the firstborn son…” Samantha nodded toward her mother who was talking on the phone, her back to them.
“I feel like I should learn Spanish,” Lucinda quipped. “Think of all the things I could glean from you both.” She paused before adding, “Think of all the things you scream out in bed that I could finally understand…”
“You’re going to make this as difficult for me as you can, aren’t you?” Samantha looked both amused and turned-on.
“That all depends,” Lucinda teased as she stalked over to Samantha, and ran her fingers along the inside of Samantha’s arm. “Will I be punished for it later?”
Lucinda stepped closer, her eyes directed toward Marisol’s back while her hand stroked higher up the inside of Samantha’s right arm, brushing against her breast. Samantha gripped her coffee mug harder, forcing out a slow breath as Lucinda’s movements grew bolder, her thumb grazing dangerously close to an erect nipple.
“Because if you can guarantee I’ll get my just deserts”—Lucinda flattened her hand against the curve of Samantha’s breast before squeezing lightly—“then yes, I plan on making this positively unbearable for you.”
Samantha’s eyes fluttered when Lucinda pulled her hand back and reached behind her for the coffeepot to refill her mug. She stayed close enough to whisper, “No reason that your mother arriving should ruin all the fun I planned to have with you this weekend, don’t you agree?”
She walked in front of Samantha, letting her left hand graze the front of Samantha’s jeans, hesitating just long enough to press the material against her girlfriend’s center.
Samantha choked back a whimper, her hips rolling forward as Lucinda stepped away, reaching for the milk and increasing the space between them as Marisol concluded the conversation and walked back into the kitchen. Lucinda made sure to increase the sway of her hips as she retreated to the safety of the other side of the kitchen island, doing everything in her power to make Samantha aware that she was entirely serious. If the look on Samantha’s face was any indication, she was succeeding with flying colors.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Later that week, Lucinda sat in her office, ostensibly working on client notes, but in truth, daydreaming about Samantha. Lucinda had called in a favor with some of the girls she used to dance with and got them a private box at the ballet for tonight. Marisol was bringing Andrew as her date; he had smoothed things over with Samantha by promising to entertain the older Monteiro woman with a late lunch before the show. Evidently Marisol adored Andrew, found him charming and handsome. It was perfect—she would have someone to go to lunch with and chat with during the performance and Samantha would have the opportunity to escape. Lucinda was glad things were better between Andrew and Samantha, but they were still working on it. This was an olive branch; it was progress.
She was still considering her own feelings about the Andrew thing when her intercom chimed with Amanda’s voice. “Lucinda?”
“Yes, Amanda?” she continued typing before dragging her finger across the tablet screen to change the window in front of her.
“Brian is here, should I send him in?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Brian knocked before opening her door and stepping in quietly. “How are you today?”
“Good, good, what’s up?” She wasn’t intentionally being dismissive, but she wanted to finish this email. She closed the file and looked up at him expectantly.
“I wanted to follow up with the Richard issue. The intern has been relocated to another department so as to limit her interactions with him. He was called in to HR and given a strong warning. Documentation was signed agreeing to their terms. Mostly, I wanted to know how he was doing with you.”
Lucinda considered her answer before replying. “He’s been submitting his work to me directly. It’s improved, but not markedly. No typos, no late submissions, but it’s just so-so work.” She tapped her fingers on her desk. “I gave him his own project so I could evaluate his competence. I’m not impressed thus far.”
Brian mulled this over. “Our priority is the best interest of the company. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s best—you’ve been doing a great job so far.”
“Lucinda?” Amanda chimed again over the intercom.
Lucinda smiled apologetically to Brian. “Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Samantha Monteiro is here.”
“Send her in, please. And hold my calls,” Lucinda replied. She stood and walked to the front of her desk, leaning against it, her ankles crossed.
“I’ll see you again later in the week, thanks for the update,” Brian said, before excusing himself and heading toward the door. He opened the door as Samantha was reaching for it. He introduced himself, before waving back to Lucinda and closing the door behind him.
Samantha paused inside the door, reaching behind herself to lock it. She turned with a smile. “You look radiant.” She eyed Lucinda’s frame and settled her gaze at Lucinda’s chest before flickering up
to her eyes.
Lucinda licked her lips, taking in Samantha’s skintight dress, eyes lingering on the slit on her right thigh. She quirked an eyebrow. “Do you always dress like that for work? Maybe I ought to swing by the office a little more.”
“Mm, maybe you should.” Samantha pursed her lips as she stalked toward Lucinda. She tossed her purse onto an office chair before stepping close and gently running her fingers along Lucinda’s arm.
“I missed you.” Lucinda inhaled the scent of Samantha’s shampoo and perfume before pressing a soft kiss to her jaw.
Samantha tilted her head, exposing her neck as she closed her hands over the ones Lucinda had leaning on the desk, holding her up. She took in a slow breath as Lucinda placed soft, wet kisses along her jaw to her lips, pausing just short of her mouth.
“Tell me,” Lucinda teased, kissing the edge of her lips.
Samantha closed her eyes at the taunting, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth as Lucinda continued to pepper soft kisses everywhere but on her lips. “I love you.”
Lucinda rewarded the response with a hard kiss to her mouth, her hands leaving the desk to pull her closer, deepening the kiss. Samantha moaned into her mouth, parting her lips and pressing her hips against Lucinda’s. Lucinda let one hand slide down Samantha’s body before settling at her hip and holding her close. She kissed soft lips with a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How was your day?” Lucinda gently rubbed her thumb along Samantha’s earlobe.
“Mm, fine. Better now. You?”
“Same.” Lucinda purred before kissing Samantha softly again, her left hand slipping from Samantha’s hip and toying with the slit on her thigh. “I like this dress…is it new?” She kept her mouth close, breathing the words across plump lips.
“We went shopping yesterday…I bought all kinds of nice new things to show you.” She pulled back and gave Lucinda a sly smile.
“Like what?”
Lucinda felt Samantha’s hand close over hers and slip her fingers under the slit of the dress, pushing the hem up until her fingertips danced over silky fabric.
