by E. Walsh
When Sarah’s lips moved down to her neck, Jessica sighed deeply and buried her hand in the blonde’s hair, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the wet feeling against her skin.
She moved herself to allow for her shirt to be pulled over her head, her breasts barely concealed by her bra as Sarah kissed her way down to her navel.
Jessica had no idea how far she was willing to go, but she felt incredible, and she didn’t want it to stop.
Her jeans came off easily, and she bit her lower lip as the other woman quickly undressed as well and laid back on top of her, their lips finding each other again, their limbs entangled on the couch.
Jessica felt her entire body heat up, giving her away, much to the amusement of Sarah.
Jessica gasped when Sarah’s hand found its way between her legs, touching her, caressing her, the other hand unsnapping her bra and taking her into her mouth.
Jessica felt her entire body tingle, every inch of her reacting simultaneously as the blonde moved her hand against her, driving her insane.
She was rocking against her, breathing heavily, her moans soft and frequent until she was shuddering in pleasure.
“That’s a different kind of song,” Sarah whispered in her ear as she pressed against her, now also naked, skin on skin as the heat of their bodies sent them both into a deeper frenzy.
Jessica turned the other woman onto her back, kissing her from the neck down, her tongue edging across every inch of her beautiful skin until she was kissing the inside of her thighs and moving inwards.
She had never done this before, but Sarah seemed to be enjoying it, and when her tongue pressed against her, Sarah had her hands clutched in Jessica’s hair, singing her own song of pleasure that echoed throughout the studio.
It seemed to go on forever, one woman making sure the other was as satisfied as can be, their heat so strong neither wanted to stop.
When it was over, when they were both in each other’s arms, breathing heavily as they lay spent on the control room couch, Jessica glanced at the clock on the wall through half-shut eyes.
Simon was due in three hours.
Just enough time, she thought as her eyes closed and she drifted away.
* * *
Chapter Eight
“Not bad.”
Jessica sat in anticipation next to Simon, the track she had worked on during the past two days finally complete and ready for scrutiny.
Simon had kept her on the edge of her seat, listening to her work three times before scratching his beard and listening to it again.
Now he sat with a smile on his face, and Jessica couldn’t tell if he was proud or amused.
“It’s perfect,” Sarah said from her place on the couch behind them. “Definitely better than what you had handed in, Simon.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“I would,” Sarah grinned. “I might just convince the label to work with her instead of you from now on. Then there would be two female producers who you can be envious about.”
Simon swiveled in his chair to face her and gave her the finger, but both producers were smiling as they silently agreed with each other.
The track sounded a lot better than it had a few days before.
“I still think your singer’s garbage,” Simon said.
“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. It’s not why the label signed her.”
Simon made a face and muttered something incoherent. “Maybe you should sign Jessica on and actually create some proper music,” he said.
Sarah winked at Jessica and smiled. “Be careful, Simon, I might just steal the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Simon shrugged. “I can always get another assistant.”
Jessica laughed despite herself, and quickly covered her mouth when Simon looked at her.
She half expected him to embarrass her, but he only smiled and shook his head.
“You’re full of surprise, Jessica Hart,” he said, eyeing her.
Jessica couldn’t tell if he was being earnest or sarcastic, but at the moment it didn’t really matter.
She felt good about the work she had done, and she felt like any sort of recognition would do.
Besides, Sarah had been by her side through it all, walking her through her jumbled ideas, helping her translate what was going on in her head to the final product they had just listened to.
It had been intoxicating having her around, and the multiple ‘breaks’ they had in between the work definitely helped.
Jessica felt like a completely different person.
“She’s going to be one hell of a producer someday,” Sarah said, standing up and grabbing her purse. “She might put the both of us out of business.”
“I’d rather see her practice her own material on my piano when I’m not around,” Simon said as he looked at Jessica, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Did you actually think I didn’t know?”
“I’m so sorry,” Jessica started to apologize, but Simon quickly waved it off.
“It’s good that the old thing’s getting its strings worked,” Simon said. “At least one of us is using it.”
Sarah clicked her tongue and pulled her shades on, blowing Simon a kiss. “Walk me out?” she asked Jessica.
Jessica got up and followed her out, hoping Simon didn’t see the look they had shared while he was listening to the song, or the way Sarah smiled at her as she walked out of the studio with her in tow.
She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about all this, but for the time being, it was beautiful, and she wanted to keep that to herself.
At least for now.
Outside, Sarah quickly turned around and gave Jessica a peck on the lips, then looked over her shoulder to make sure Simon wasn’t watching.
Her caution amused Jessica, and she was silently grateful that the woman understood the situation.
“So, maybe you should consider Simon’s words,” Sarah said.
Jessica shrugged and smiled, too tired to think. “I’ve been working non-stop for forty-eight hours,” she said. “All I want to consider is sleep.”
“Ask him for a few days off,” Sarah suggested.
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “Home’s a bit of a bore. I’d rather be in the studio, if I’m going to be totally honest.”
“Take a few days off and spend them at my place,” Sarah winked. “I promise you, my apartment isn’t boring at all.”
Jessica smiled wide. “Do you have a piano?”
“That same one,” Sarah gestured. “He bought it just to prove that he was earning as much as I was. I think it really ate into his savings.”
Jessica laughed as she looked at the studio, then back at Sarah. Maybe she was right. A few days would do her well, and she felt like she did deserve it.
Besides, she had never asked Simon for anything like this since the day she had been hired. He wouldn’t possibly say no now, not after the work she had been putting in.
“I’ll talk to him,” she promised.
Sarah nodded. “If he gives you hell, let me know,” she said. “I’ll make sure he won’t be too much of a dick.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Jessica said.
Sarah gave her a hug, another kiss that lingered a few seconds longer than the first, then turned and walked to her car.
Jessica watched her leave, arms crossed, balancing on her toes as the car sped away and turned a corner.
Things were going to be a lot more interesting here on out.
The End
31. Casey’s Heart
By: Cassandra Cole
Casey’s Heart
© Cassandra Cole, 2016 – All rights reserved
Published by Steamy Reads4U
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a w
ork of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Warning
This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.
If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.
* * *
Chapter One
Carolina “Casey” O’Hara
New York City
June 3, 1898
“Casey, when’s papa coming home? Will he bring food? I’m hungry.”
“Shush, little one, why don’t you go to sleep?”
“But I’m too hungry.”
Casey went to where the last meager rations were kept. She was planning to save this last little bit of food for breakfast, but she could hear Paddy’s stomach rumbling.
The other kids were asleep so she broke off a tiny piece of the stale bread. She sighed as she dipped it in the last bit of lard she had but what could she do, there was nothing else.
Paddy devoured the little piece of bread as though he’d never eaten before. He lay down, top to tail with his siblings, the six little mites, as Casey worried about the future. She looked over them, realizing they weren’t so little anymore.
What Casey couldn’t tell Paddy, or any of the children, was that their papa was never coming home.
She cried, she wasn’t sure why. Life with Papa had always been tough. She hated to admit it, but maybe they would be better off now that he was gone.
He was always short of money yet could afford to drink. He was a broken man since Casey’s mama had passed away.
It was now ten years since her passing, almost to the day. As the eldest, it fell on Casey’s shoulders to manage the house but when you’re 8 and your mother dies, what can you do.
They had no other family in New York. The last ten years had been hard. Casey had tried to keep the children in school, but the boys were more difficult to manage, running off and getting into God knows what trouble.
She saw the looks she got at the Catholic school, how the others looked at them with pity, not that anyone else was any better off.
More than once, she had heard whispers that the children should be taken into care but somehow they had always managed to stay together.
In her father’s more lucid moments, he was adamant that they family stay together, after all, he and their mother had come to America all those years ago for a better life, but somehow they missed out on golden opportunities.
“God has forsaken me,” Casey’s father would proclaim when sober. When drunk, he would sit and mourn for his wife. But the children stayed quiet, no-one wanted to awaken the beast, which he became when provoked.
Now as the children slept, Casey was wide awake, no-one stirred. What was going to become of them? She felt the burden of being the adult, of having to find the answers without any help.
She was 18 now, but she had no skills but, in any case, what would she work at? The younger children still needed minding. She thought back to earlier in the day when the children were out playing as she aired out their room.
A knock had come to the open door, and Casey was surprised to see a policeman standing there.
“Miss O’Hara?”
“Yes, Officer, what’s the matter?”
“Miss, I’m afraid to tell you that there’s been an accident at the docks, it’s about your father…”
“Is father hurt?”
“No, Miss, I’m afraid it’s worse than that, he’s passed on.”
Casey was numb. She held onto the table as she tried to steady herself, to try to say something but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out.
“Are you quite okay, Miss? Is there someone I can get?”
Casey clutched her chest. The pain was intense. The young officer, now pale, didn’t know what to do. He ran next door and Mrs. Clancy came running in, with a child attached to her hip.
“My goodness, you poor lassie, I’ve just heard, God rest his soul. Whatever will you do? Sit down. Officer will you get her a drink of water. What will happen to you and the young ones?”
Casey was now sitting, still trying to gather her thoughts. They had no-one now. They were orphans. There was the pain again in her chest, a tightness, a dryness to her mouth and she felt dizzy. Please Lord, help me, what am I going to do?
This was the only thought running through her head. What happens to an orphan family of seven?
The policeman excused himself, anxious to leave. It was his first time delivering a death notice.
“I didn’t want to say too much opposite that policeman but Casey, what’s going to happen? There’s no way you’ll get any money from O’Malley now that your father’s dead, you’d be entitled to the pay for the days he worked but O’Malley’s mean with his money. Things are tight with us. Otherwise, I’d help you. Oh, there, there, now dear. God is good, something good is bound to happen.”
Casey began to cry as she relived that moment. She had managed not to say a word to the children. Let them be happy another day, she thought. I’ll tell them tomorrow.
But the pain in her chest kept coming back every time she thought about what would happen. She quietly put on her coat and hat and went out.
The children would be fine. She needed some air although it was close to midnight, she needed to get out.
* * *
Chapter Two
The air was bracing and caught her breath for a moment. She needed time to clear the cobwebs from her mind.
“Dear Lord, give me some sign, please help me through this.”
She walked along, not really going anywhere in particular. The street was still busy enough for that time of night. Some revelers were still enjoying their night.
How lucky for them, she thought. Casey had never known fun, to be carefree. She sat on a stoop with her chin in her hands. Across the street, she could see a woman being dropped off by a carriage.
How strange, there was no house there. The carriage left and the woman stayed standing, just adjusting her skirt, there in the street where anyone could see her.
Then she’d look left and right. Casey could see a man approach her. She wasn’t sure if they knew each other, but the woman walked off with him.
Then another woman came to the same spot. Under the street lamp, Casey could see that she was one of those painted ladies, a lady of the night that she’d heard Mrs. O’Malley cursing her husband for looking at them.
After twenty minutes, the first woman returned and Casey saw the two women talking. But their voices became louder. She could not make out what they were saying. But the words she could understand made her blush. She decided that she’d had better leave.
But before she could stir the first woman pushed the second. And then the second pushed back. And suddenly they were fighting and pulling at each other’s hair. Then a purse fell. Coins spilling across the sidewalk. More coins than Casey had ever seen in one purse before.
Certainly more that she had ever processed at any one time. Casey could feel her face redden even more as she realized that the money was payment from the gentleman, if you could call him that in good conscience.
From that gentleman and perhaps several other she thought as she saw another carriage come to a stop in front of the women.
Just as suddenly as the fight started between the two women they were best friends again. The owner of the purse bent down to pick it up and the other helped her.
Casey hurried away
as quickly as she could. Her mind was racing. The women had been very common, but they had money. Was that something she could do? But Casey had no experience of men and wasn’t capable of fully comprehending what was involved.
* * *
Chapter Three
As she crept back into her family’s little room nobody stirred. It was cold now. The little bit of fuel that she had borrowed had burnt itself out.
She sat in the chair but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t warm herself. What was going to happen to them?
She couldn’t work and care for the children and if she took care of the children, she had no money. She prayed for a miracle.
“Casey, wake up? I’m hungry. Why didn’t papa come home last night? I can’t see any food, where will you get some?”
It was little Molly, the youngest aged 10. Full of questions that Casey didn’t want to answer. Unbeknown to her, she had fallen asleep and her neck hurt.
The children began to stir. Somehow, they knew today was different. Despite his failings, their father had always come home, now there was no sign of him.
“Children, I have some bad news. Papa won’t be coming home. He’s with mama in Heaven.”
The wails of the children brought the neighbors to the door. Mrs. Clancy was always kind but Mrs. Murphy was a battle-axe and for some reason just didn’t like Casey.
“Thank God, you’ll be gone within the week. There’s no way you can afford the rent now. Always thinking you’re too good for the likes of us, with all your airs and graces. Good riddance I say.”
Mrs. Murphy was still talking, but Casey tuned her out. Casey couldn’t understand the venom from Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Clancy always said it was because Casey’s mother was a classy lady and Mrs. Murphy felt inferior and in even in death, the hatred lived on. But one thing she did know was that Mrs. Murphy spoke the truth. They would be kicked out onto the streets, of that she was sure.
