by Fiona Riley
“Like these,” Samantha replied as she licked into Lucinda’s mouth, pulling a moan from Lucinda before stepping back and letting Lucinda take in the new article of clothing.
“Hmm.” Lucinda leaned back and edged Samantha’s dress up higher, exposing the silk and lace underneath. She took a moment to turn Samantha so she could see the back and how they hugged her ass in just the right way to make them look painted on. She traced her fingers along the curve of the fabric. “What do they look like off?”
Samantha feigned innocence as she pushed her dress back down and stepped back to sit in the leather chair positioned before Lucinda. She smiled politely and clasped her hands in her lap as she crossed her legs seductively. “Why don’t you close the blinds and find out?”
Lucinda’s heart skipped a beat as she leaned back over her desk and reached for the remote to close the shades, tapping the button lightly before sitting up straight to look at Samantha. She cocked her head to the side before adding, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Oh?”
“About how tonight was going to be near impossible to get through without touching you.”
“I can see why you would be concerned.” Samantha uncrossed her legs and spread her knees a bit. She tapped her finger over her lip in thought as her dark eyes settled on Lucinda’s lips. “We should probably figure out a way to make tonight more bearable.”
Lucinda stepped forward and placed her hands on the arms of the chair, her body hovering over Samantha’s as she nudged her knee between Samantha’s legs and pushed them farther apart. She looked into the dark eyes in front of her before nodding and chewing on her bottom lip. The urge to ravish Samantha made her stomach wind tighter and tighter.
Samantha knew it too; the little smile on her lips as she pulled her dress up again, exposing her panties, was a blatant taunt. Lucinda was getting payback for the other day.
Samantha’s hands touched the thigh between her own, her fingers tracing up and down, squeezing the muscle of Lucinda’s leg and releasing it. She moved her hand higher and gently cupped Lucinda through her pants, slightly curling and uncurling her fingers. Lucinda let out a groan, pressing forward and closing her eyes as Samantha continued her ministrations, teasing and pressing in before pulling back. She whispered into Lucinda’s ear, “I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to feel your hands on my hips and your lips on my skin, pressing into me, sucking on me gently, licking me, and teasing me. I’ve been thinking about the way you make me feel like I can’t take any more and I may die from the pleasure, only to push me further and pull me tighter.”
She licked Lucinda’s ear before sucking the lobe into her mouth. “I’ve been thinking about the way your mouth on my sex makes me want to spend my whole life in bed with you just so I can feel every way you could fuck me into unconsciousness.”
Lucinda was panting now, her hips moving, and pressing herself more firmly into Samantha’s hands, her knuckles white as she gripped the arms of the chair tighter. Samantha pressed her fingers hard against Lucinda before reaching out to palm her breast aggressively through her shirt, strumming her fingers over the swollen nipple.
“I’ve been thinking about watching you squirm and beg for me to touch you ever since you teased me in my kitchen.” She kissed along Lucinda’s jaw before biting her chin lightly. “Are we at that point yet?”
Lucinda moaned as Samantha pulled harder on her nipple while pressing her palm flat against her and thrusting up.
“Come on, Luce,” Samantha growled with her lips just millimeters from Lucinda’s mouth. “Are we there yet?”
A soft whimper spilled from Lucinda’s lips as she finally submitted with a nod, unable to resist the game any longer.
“Good girl.” Samantha kissed Lucinda hard on the lips and pressed her back against the desk as she stood. Her hands worked fast, unbuttoning Lucinda’s tailored pants and pushing them down her legs as she slipped beneath Lucinda’s soaked panties and slid two firm fingers into her. Lucinda curled forward, her head pressed into Samantha’s neck as she thrust in and out at a practiced pace, dragging her thumb against Lucinda’s throbbing clit. She used her body to press Lucinda against her desk, one hand gripping her hair and tugging her head back far enough to kiss her mouth and silence her whimpers.
All the teasing and talking caught up with Lucinda quickly; she came undone after a particularly well-placed thrust and curl of Samantha’s fingers, beckoning her over the edge. Samantha swallowed her moan and cradled Lucinda’s head against her neck as she slowed her hand and pulled out with care. Lucinda’s legs trembled as she slouched back against the desk, catching her breath, still unbelieving of what just transpired. After a minute or two of Samantha speaking softly between featherlight kisses, Lucinda was finally able to exhale fully and recover.
Samantha pressed a soft kiss to Lucinda’s lips before bending forward to help her redress. Then she guided Lucinda’s hands to her hips, pulling her dress up the rest of the way before she whispered against kiss-bruised lips, “I’ve also been thinking about what it would be like to be fucked on that enormous desk since the first day I walked in here and caught you staring at my ass.” She paused before asking, “You got stamina for that, champ?”
Lucinda swept all the papers off the desk and onto the floor. She lifted Samantha up and placed her gently onto the surface before pulling down the panties that started this whole exchange. “Have I told you how much I love you?” She kissed Samantha and enthusiastically fulfilled her request.
*
The Opera House was a gorgeous place, its architecture positively stunning: gold-leaf finishes, chandeliers, rich tapestries, grand staircases, silk wall panels, and painted murals. It was spectacular. Lucinda smiled at the familiarity of this environment; it reminded her of many good times. Walking into the theater was like stepping back in time, old-world charm paired with the most state-of-the-art staging. Their box was to the right of the stage with a perfect view of the dancers and the orchestra.
Andrew and Marisol were already seated when Samantha walked in with Lucinda. Samantha looked over at Lucinda and released her hand with a heavy sigh before she hugged the other two occupants of the balcony, talking to her mother while Andrew shuffled out of his seat.
He stood, fastening the button on his designer suit and smoothing it before stepping toward Lucinda with his shoulders squared. Lucinda smiled, appreciating the way he was attempting to appear confident. Samantha had already clued her in that he was nervous she might bite his head off, since this was the first time they were seeing each other again after the private investigator incident.
“Lucinda, it’s good to see you again.” He stepped toward her, his eyes nervously tracing her.
“Hey.” She smiled, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently as she kissed him on the cheek.
“Look, I really screwed up and I’m sorry, I—”
Lucinda held up her hand. She had told Samantha she understood why Andrew had done it, but it didn’t really make her feel any less violated; it just made her feel a little sad. “Andrew, I get it, really I do. I don’t like the way you went about it and I don’t like the way it made me feel, but I can appreciate that your heart was in the right place.” She paused. “Don’t do it again. If you want to know something, just ask. I’m serious about Samantha and I want to get along with you because you are very important in her life, and she is very important in mine. Okay? Agreed?”
He swallowed and nodded. “Okay, yeah, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek before whispering into her ear, “She’s great, huh?”
She looked over at Samantha and breathed out quietly. “The best.”
Andrew looked thoughtful at her response. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her intensely for a moment before he made the shape of a heart with his fingers and pointed to Samantha with a kissy face, causing Lucinda to blush. They shared a private smile before Lucinda shoved Andrew playfully and walked over to greet
Samantha’s mother.
“Marisol, how was your lunch?” She cleared her throat and tried to act like she wasn’t on fire. Samantha was out of her chair and playfully slapping Andrew out of earshot, murmuring something to him quietly as he laughed.
“Oh, Lucinda! It’s so nice to see you again, these seats are wonderful.” Marisol beamed as she looked back at the stage, the overhead lights dimming to alert the audience that the show was about to start.
“I’m glad you like them. I have a few friends that dance with the company. Maybe afterward I can introduce you to some of them.” The lights dimmed again and Lucinda glanced back toward her seat. “Enjoy the show—let’s catch up at the break.”
Marisol placed her hand on Lucinda’s forearm and squeezed gently before turning to face the stage. Samantha shoved a laughing Andrew toward the seat next to her mother and looked up at Lucinda with an apologetic smile. Lucinda returned it and nodded to her seat, choosing to position herself on the end with a space between her and Andrew for Samantha.
Samantha sat beside her as the lights fully dimmed and the orchestra began. She leaned close to Lucinda and said quietly, “He knows.”
Lucinda kept her eyes on the stage as she feigned ignorance. “Knows what, baby?” The velvety chuckle beside her made her heart melt.
“That I love you.” Samantha pressed a quick kiss under her jaw, their exchange hidden in the shadows. She laced their fingers together between the seats, covering them with a program of the night’s performance. “I love you and I’m doing a shit job of hiding it.”
Lucinda gently squeezed Samantha’s hand and rubbed her thumb along Samantha’s knuckle as the first round of dancers took the stage, the coolness of the program burning against her skin. She looked at the beautiful woman to her right and smiled sadly. She knew this was still new and fresh and scary, but she felt so strongly already, she wanted everyone to know how important Samantha was to her. But she didn’t want to rush her into any grand announcement either, particularly to her mother who was just two seats away. So she just smiled and breathed out slowly, appreciating the memory of this afternoon and the ride here and the hand in her own.
“I love you too.”
Samantha glanced over and saw the fading sadness in Lucinda’s eyes reflected in the light of the stage. She hadn’t realized that what she had said might have struck a nerve in Lucinda. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with all these new feelings. She loved Lucinda. She made her feel appreciated and respected, loved and cared for. She was attentive and patient. God, was she patient. Even now, even here, Lucinda was patient. The program draped across their hands felt like a thousand-pound anchor pulling them down. Samantha was tired of fighting all the feelings her mother stirred up in her. She looked once more at the woman who made her heart sing with a silly text or some flowers, or a hand on her lower back as she walked through a door, or that perfect smile. She loved her and she didn’t want to hide that.
“Hey.” Lucinda smiled reassuringly, undoubtedly trying to convey her understanding because she was a perfect human. “It’s okay. I get it. I’m here.”
Samantha shoved the program off their hands and brought them onto her lap. She squeezed Lucinda’s hand in her own as the orchestra rose in volume. She shook her head once more and leaned in to press a quick kiss to the lips of a shocked-looking Lucinda.
“I love you and I’m not afraid of that.” She settled back into her seat and bit her bottom lip, feeling a little embarrassed but, at the same time, better.
“Good. Me too,” Lucinda whispered into Samantha’s ear. “You lead and I’ll follow this time, okay?” She punctuated her words with a soft kiss to the shell of Samantha’s ear.
Samantha knew she was blushing. Lucinda Moss was everything she had ever wanted and never knew existed. She let the warmth of that realization settle in her chest as she redirected her attention to the ballet unfolding in front of her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Intermission came faster than Samantha had anticipated. Lucinda had slipped away before the house lights came on to grab them some refreshments before the lines got too long. Samantha had watched her leave with a flutter in her chest. Lucinda was stunning tonight in all black and low heels. she could watch her walk away all the time, as long as she knew she was coming back.
Andrew cleared his throat, startling her. “You ought to cut back on the leering, dear, people will notice…and by people I mean Mommy Dearest over here.”
Samantha turned back to face him. “It’s dark, shut up.”
The lights came on and the audience stood to stretch, chatting idly in the rows and gushing about the performance. Marisol turned to them with a smile. “This is positively lovely. These seats are unbelievable. What a pleasure to see the arts in such luxury.”
Samantha couldn’t help but grin and feel proud that her girlfriend had not only suggested this delightful little diversion but also worked her magic to score such amazing seats. She had to admit, it was a beautiful view from here.
Andrew stood and cracked his neck, stifling a yawn as he loosened his shoulders.
“Up late last night, Andrew?” Samantha teased, stretching in her seat.
Andrew shot her a look. “I went out with Ben again, the guy from the wedding.”
“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”
“Oh, you know,” he jabbed back with a smug grin, “about as well as I imagine your lunch meeting went today.”
Samantha kicked him in the shin as her mother zoned in on their conversation.
“What’s that? Andrew, are you seeing someone?” Her curiosity overcame any sort of socially appropriate feigned ignorance of the private conversation unfolding nearby.
“Well, I’m always seeing someone,” he joked as he looked around. “But, sort of, yeah, he’s cute.”
“Tell me about him. What does he do?”
“Ma, seriously,” Samantha interrupted, “who asks that?”
“Samantha, it’s perfectly acceptable to ask what he may be doing, I don’t want Andrew getting involved with some gold digger.”
“No, it’s okay,” Andrew interjected. “He’s an actor. He does formal event work on the side. That’s how we met, at a wedding.”
“Oh, I love weddings.” Marisol smiled and clasped her hands together. “Who was getting married?”
Samantha was suddenly very interested in her manicure.
“One of our clients actually,” Andrew answered. “It was another one of those perfect matches we work so hard at.”
Marisol’s smile remained, albeit significantly smaller. She made no attempt to hide her contempt of Samantha’s work, as she liked to call it, air quotes and all. Although she had more manners than to insult Andrew directly, Samantha had no doubt that would come later in barbs she would trade with her daughter if they got into it.
“That’s also where we met Lucinda, isn’t it, Sam?”
Samantha looked up, alarmed. “Uh, yeah.”
“Use your vocabulary, mija,” Marisol clucked.
“Yes, we met her at the wedding, she was at our table.”
“The misfit table, if I remember correctly,” Andrew added, laughing.
Marisol watched the interaction between them curiously. “Hmm. What does she do? And how is it she is so friendly with the dancers here?”
“She’s a marketing director now, but she used to dance professionally. She teaches at a studio not far from here,” Andrew supplied casually. Samantha wondered if he could see her breathing pick up a bit. She felt very tense all of a sudden.
“Well, that’s marvelous. Dancing is a lost art. It takes such discipline.” Marisol nodded to herself. She cocked her head to the side and looked at Samantha, suddenly curious. “Is she a client of yours?”
Samantha kept her cool. “No. Why?”
“It’s just that she is so lovely, quite beautiful really. I imagine she would have brought a date to such an event like this.” Marisol gestured toward the stage. “Is she single?”
r /> “I don’t really think that’s any of your business,” Samantha said, a little harsher than she intended to.
“If you and Andrew here are in the business of hooking people up or whatever it is you call it, you might extend the services to your friends as well. Don’t you agree, mija?”
Samantha gritted her teeth and rolled her shoulders as she leaned against the balcony. “Ma,” she whispered, her tone sharp, “stop.”
Samantha could tell that her mother did not appreciate being scolded. Before she had a chance to reply, Lucinda emerged at the opening of the box, precariously juggling four very full glasses of champagne.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked warily, looking between the serious expressions on the Monteiro women and Andrew doing his best to fade into the background.
Samantha broke the glaring contest and smiled at Lucinda, rushing forward to assist with the glasses. “No, sorry, I would have come with you had I known you were so ambitious.” Her fingers grazed over Lucinda’s as she took two glasses, handing one to Andrew and avoiding her mother.
Lucinda handed a glass to Marisol and offered a toast. “To great friends and family.”
Marisol sipped from her flute quietly before she faced Lucinda. “Andrew tells me you used to dance professionally, is that true?”
“Yes, for a short time.”
“Why did you stop?”
“I suffered a pretty significant injury a while back and my partner passed away before I healed. So I finished school, got into PR, and I teach instead.”
Marisol looked perplexed for a moment. “Why not just find another partner?”
Lucinda nodded. This was always the question. “In dance, as in life, there are perfect pairings. When you find your perfect fit, anything else just doesn’t quite feel right. That’s what happened with me. I tried, but I was unsuccessful.” She frowned as she uttered the heavy truth. Dominic was the water to her fire, the calming influence to her chaos. He was irreplaceable.