In the Eyes of Love

by Sheri Livingston

  Shane flashed through her mind. Her sweet green eyes above a gentle smile, stared back at her.

  Morgan missed her already.

  ———

  Shane stared out the window of her office. She wondered what Morgan would be doing right now. Was she absorbed in work or thinking about her in return? Did Morgan want her, like she wanted Morgan? An image of Morgan, wrapped in Dawn’s arms, pushed out the good thoughts, leaving only a bitter taste in her mouth.

  She turned away from the window, wanting to shed thoughts of Morgan, yet her body ached to feel her again, smell her again, and see her one more time.

  It was nearing noon. She could drive to Morgan’s office and possibly catch her leaving for lunch. To watch those slender legs, to see those billowing locks of curls bounce around her head … that should be enough to ease her lust. But, would that be enough now? Would it be enough to calm the churning waters inside her? After having Morgan, feeling her silken skin, making her body writhe with orgasm after orgasm, would any other woman be good enough now?

  Shane shook her head, deciding it would only lengthen her torture to see her again, unable to touch her, and made her way to the lobby. Scott leaned back in his chair with his feet propped on the desk. The phone was perched on his shoulder while he picked at his nails, only raising an eyebrow to her as she approached.

  “Eric, I have to let you go. My boss is giving me evil eyes. Yep. Okay. See you Friday. I’ll drag Shane with me.” He gave a soft chuckle. “You got that right. Bye.” Scott dropped the phone into the cradle and turned back to look at Shane.

  “That was a friend of mine. He’s invited me to the grand opening of the Howard Gallery. I’m making you go with me.”

  “Why would I want to go to some overpaid retired football jock’s grand opening? You don’t even like football. Why are you going?” Shane propped an elbow on the counter. A couple of pedestrians passed the door. They slowed down, staring at the paintings in the windows, admiring her work.

  “I don’t go for the paintings, dear heart. I go for the luscious asses, the rich boys in fine clothing, and dick.” He smiled a devious smile.

  “You’re gross.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Not as gross as the shit you women do to each other. Now, that is gross.”

  “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.” Shane knew the perfect place.

  “See! Talk about pussy and you automatically get hungry. That must have been some lay you got.” He pushed away from the desk. “But, I’m starving, and you’re paying, so let’s go.”

  They drove to Maggie’s Diner and pulled to the curb. A vice grip tightened around the pit of Shane’s stomach. Would Morgan be there? Would she flee if she saw Shane? Would Shane melt at the sight of her?

  She shoved the door open with a grunt, disgusted with herself for being such a loser, unable to shake this woman from her thoughts, and made her way inside the café. Morgan wasn’t anywhere. She sank into the booth across from Scott. As if God granted her a dying wish, Morgan and Rachel pushed through the front door. Her breath caught in her throat. She could feel her cheeks flush with the memories of the night they’d shared together, the mind-blowing orgasms they’d given to each other.

  This was a mistake. Shane knew the very second that Morgan’s eyes locked on her that she’d erred in coming here. She wanted to slither under the table and melt through the hardwood floor. She needed to get away. She couldn’t stand to be so close to this beauty, after making love to her, and not be able to touch her.

  Rachel squealed when she saw Shane, yanking her from her heated thoughts. She rushed over to the table, practically dragging Morgan behind her. Shane pulled her gaze from Morgan and turned to look at Rachel.

  “Hi, Shane. How are you?” Rachel asked, showing every tooth in her mouth.

  “I’m fine. And you?” Her gaze drifted to Morgan, unable to stop.

  Morgan stared back at her, sadness in the depths of her eyes. That sadness gripped at Shane’s heart. She’d been able to swipe away that pain for awhile.

  A smile crept across Morgan’s face, sending a jolt through Shane’s heart.

  “Can we join you guys?” Rachel broke the tension. “Who’s your friend, Shane?” Rachel scooted into the booth next to Scott, who eased over to allow her room.

  Shane was aware Morgan would be sitting next to her. She’d be close enough to feel her heat, to smell her scent. Morgan eased into the seat beside her. Her tan slacks molded around her frame like a glove. Her loose black vee-neck left little for the imagination. Shane didn’t need her imagination. She had her own vivid memories of those pert nipples being sucked between her lips. She had the sound of Morgan’s moans embedded in her mind, something she’d heard over and over in her head from the second Morgan slipped from her truck, and out of her life.

  “And you are?” Rachel turned toward Scott.

  He grinned at her. “I’m Scott. I work with Shane. And you are?”

  “I’m Rachel, and this is Morgan. We work for Strut.” Rachel beamed at Scott, staring between Shane and Morgan.

  “Oh. Awesome magazine.” He gushed and fluttered his eyelashes at her in obvious parody. “When you guys come to take pics, make sure you call first so I can wear my diamonds and furs.”

  Everyone laughed. The rest of lunch was spent in total silence.

  ———

  “What the hell was that all about?” Scott asked as soon as they walked through the gallery doors.

  “What was what all about?” Shane eyed him, hoping to ward off his nosy questions.

  “Duuuuhhhhhhhhh! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were sweating bullets in there. Was that her? Morgan? The one who nailed your ass good Friday night? Nice catch by the way.”

  “You’re nosy. Go frame something. Sell something.” She strolled toward her office, stopped in mid-step and turned back to him. “Go to Harry’s and frame his picture. That should keep you busy for a while.”

  “I’ve already framed Harry’s and the new ones are drying. Sorry boss, I’ve done my job very well today.” His schoolboy smile lifted his lips. “Can I go home?”

  “Go.” She threw her hand toward the front door.

  He squealed, clapped his hands like a cheerleader, and ran from the gallery, not taking a chance on Shane changing her mind.

  The front door eased open again, bringing with it the blaring horns from the street corner, and Morgan.

  Chapter Eleven

  Morgan moved aside when Scott ran from the gallery doors. He skidded to a stop at her side, eyes rounding with recognition.

  “You’re Morgan, from the café, right?”

  “Yes. Scott, right?”

  “Yep. Just a word of advice.” He squared his shoulders and took on a serious expression. “That’s my very good friend in there. She’s fragile, even though she’s built like a brick shithouse. I love her and if you hurt her, well, I’ll have to do something drastic like, um, cut your hair off in your sleep.” He gave her a curt nod and then continued down the sidewalk.

  Morgan furrowed her brow, wondering exactly what Shane had said to him. She must be totally out of her mind to have taken Rachel’s advice.

  Just drive over there and listen to what Shane has to say. Morgan replayed Rachel’s parting words before she left the café.

  She took a deep breath, praying Rachel was right, and pushed open the door. Shane stopped in mid-motion. The blast of horns followed Morgan inside. She pulled her sunglasses off and faced Shane, feeling a knot grip her stomach.

  “Hi, Shane,” Morgan said, tensing at being near her again, alone in the same room with her. “I wanted to talk to you, if you have time.” Morgan took in Shane’s tall frame with long legs wrapped inside dark carpenter jeans. Morgan remembered their strength, pushing against her crotch while she screamed with an orgasm. Heat burrowed between her legs instantly. Memories, vivid as a Polaroid, page after page, flipped through her mind.

  “Sure.” Shane eyed her wari
ly.

  “Is there somewhere else more private?” Morgan glanced around the studio, wishing she’d called instead.

  “Here’s fine. What’s up?”

  Morgan tensed at the sharpness of Shane’s tone. Should she tell her that she felt something for her and that something had given her the courage to send Dawn fleeing from her apartment? Should she tell her that she thought about her all weekend or get right down to business and tell Shane that she thought she was falling in love with her, no matter how pathetic that would sound? Hell no! With that icy look before her, how stupid would those words be?

  “Friday night.”

  “What about it?”

  Morgan’s true words were lost with Shane’s cold stare. “What I did, what we did, was a mistake.”

  Shane’s jaw tightened. Regret for her blunt choice of words, crept through Morgan. “I’m sorry. That was harsh.”

  “It’s already forgotten.” Shane’s chiseled jaw clamped down harder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Morgan felt anger seep through her. How dare Shane mock her? How dare she stand here and act like what they shared was only a nightly fuck with no feelings attached?

  “Was there something else you wanted to discuss?” Shane cut through her thoughts and searing anger.

  “No, I guess that was all.” Morgan turned toward the door, not knowing what else to say to the icy Shane, hating she’d allowed herself to feel anything.

  “Morgan?” Her name, spoken with such desire, such need, stopped her heart, as well as her steps. She turned around to find Shane within a foot of her. “Let’s talk.”

  Shane’s lips parted as if to say something else. Morgan waited, feeling heat pierce her crotch at the closeness. Shane leaned into her, bringing her hand through the crook of Morgan’s arm. Morgan held her breath, closed her eyes, lips automatically parting, anticipating velvet lips.

  A click sounded behind her. She opened her eyes. Shane was within inches of her face. Morgan felt Shane’s hot breath against her cheek. Shane smiled a sheepish grin. “We can go in the back. I didn’t want to leave the doors unlocked without someone in the lobby.” Shane backed away, leaving Morgan weak in the knees, crotch scorching. “Follow me.”

  Morgan composed herself and followed Shane down the hall, watching her ass roll in her jeans, remembering too well how tight that ass was in her grasp while she held on for dear life with an orgasm racking through her body.

  Morgan tightened her hands into fists, trying with all her might to shed the memories while she diverted her attention from Shane’s broad back and shoulders to the paintings lining the walls. She slowed to look at each one. Smiling faces, sad people, were but a few beautiful pieces. Shane had managed to capture the sorrow, the happiness, and the emptiness of each face. Morgan cursed under her breath, hating she’d missed other paintings while she ogled Shane’s ass.

  Shane slowed in front of her, eyeing her. “Sorry, I was admiring your work. They’re beautiful.”

  Shane watched her curiously. “Thanks.”

  Morgan followed her into a large cozy room. A couch lined one wall. A round dining table sat in the middle of the floor with directors’ chairs. Remnants of doughnut boxes lay on top. Butterfly chairs sat against another wall in bright neon colors, matching the paint splatter on the walls.

  “These walls are gorgeous. I love the way you splattered paint everywhere. Weird, but cool.” Morgan walked along the bare wall, looking back at Shane.

  Shane grinned, looking around the room. “That was Scott and a friend. They sat in here for hours before they came up with the idea. They literally covered the whole floor in plastic, opened cans of paint, ordered me out, and started a paint war.” Shane smiled and looked back at Morgan.

  Morgan broke the trance and walked toward another painting. An old man, cradling a bouquet of flowers while leaning over a grave, caught Morgan’s attention. The tombstone bore the name of Ella Mae, no doubt the man’s wife. Morgan felt sadness sweep over her at the loneliness caught in the depths of the man’s blue eyes. His never ending love flooded the colors of his face.

  Morgan felt a prickle of heat before Shane’s body brushed against her. A Pepsi slid into her vision with fingers she remembered too well, wrapped snug around the can. Shane’s firm arm rested against hers. “Want something to drink?” Shane’s breath brushed against her cheek.

  Shane’s palm rested on her back, making skin come to life under its heat. Morgan jerked her eyes open and turned to stare at Shane. Green eyes looked at her curiously. A smile lifted the corners of Shane’s mouth, revealing those perfect pearl teeth. She eased the drink toward Morgan’s hand. Cold touched her fingers and she turned her attention to the can, wanting desperately to slap it from Shane’s grasp and run like hell.

  She opened her fisted hand and took the can. Shane stepped back from her. “So what did you really come here for?” She kept the distance close, not giving Morgan enough room to break the spell around her.

  Morgan opened her mouth to speak, forgetting the words that were in her brain only seconds before, and stared.

  Shane watched her curiously while she fought to find her words. Morgan knew a single touch would send her mind spiraling out of control. She wrestled with herself to yank Shane’s body against hers, lick a wet path down her throat. She needed to feel her heat again, wanted to feel those thick fingers plunge deep inside her. Her cheeks heated with the need coursing through her body.

  “Come, sit down.” Shane sank onto the couch and patted the empty space beside her. She felt the uncontrollable urge to grab handfuls of Shane’s dark wavy hair and slam her against a wall, a chair, a table, anything in the room strong enough to hold their weight.

  She turned, and sat on the couch, feeling heat sizzle through her crotch, keeping distance between them. She didn’t trust herself so close.

  “I just wanted to say how sorry I was. I should have never done … we should have never … hell, I don’t know what I mean anymore.” Her thoughts were jumbled, rending her speechless, unable to make sense to her words.

  “Morgan, stop worrying about it. As long as you’re happy and as long as things are settled between you and Dawn, as I’m sure they are, then that’s all that matters.”

  Morgan wanted to scream at Shane, to tell her that she’d sent Dawn running from her apartment while she screamed at her how good sex with Shane had been, how making love to Shane had given her the courage to say such mean things to Dawn, how she wanted to do it again and again and again. She remembered Shane’s cold stare and lifeless words, and thought better of it. She sure wasn’t going to come across as begging or pleading, or desperate as hell.

  Shane’s lips parted, fighting with her own words. Morgan imagined what those words would be; fool, stupid ass, are you out of your mind, was but a few of the things she could hear Shane saying to her.

  She steadied her beating heart, trying to control the impulse to climb all over Shane, finding it harder and harder to do so. Shane stared back at her … her face, so gorgeous, with those cute dimples ready to break free with a smile. The impulse to rip Shane’s clothes off her body and plunge her fingers between her legs was becoming unbearable.

  Shane shifted, turning to face her. Morgan held her breath. “Does Dawn make your eyes flutter shut with just the touch of skin?” Morgan let out her breath, watched Shane’s lips move seductively with each word. “Does she make you wet from just being near her? Does she make you feel like this?” Morgan felt her stomach lurch while Shane slid across the plush couch. She seized Morgan’s lips. A soft cry escaped Morgan’s throat before Shane’s tongue slipped between her lips.

  Morgan’s moans mingled with Shane’s, echoing through the bright colored room. Her fingers sifted through the waves of Shane’s hair while her tongue found rhythm inside Shane’s mouth. Morgan panted through parted lips while Shane broke the embrace, sliding her mouth down Morgan’s neck. Morgan’s head fell back to the cushions. Shane’s lips sucked at the raging pulse
in her neck then licked a path down her chest, dipping its tip between her cleavage.

  “Shane … please stop” Shane ignored her breathless weak plea, pulled loose material aside, pulling a sheer bra over a hardened nipple, ducked her head, and grasped its erect tip into her mouth.

  Shane gave her nipple a quick suck then released it. Her seductive eyes drifted to Morgan’s. “If I believed you really wanted me to, Morgan, I would. You don’t want me to stop.” Shane pulled Morgan’s bra over her enwrapped breast. Another hardened nipple appeared before her, this one was sucked just as eagerly into Shane’s mouth. Morgan bucked her hips against Shane, heat searing her crotch.

  Shane grabbed Morgan’s hips, pulled her flat on the couch, still sucking her nipple gently between hot lips. Morgan’s hips ground into Shane with need.

  Shane let loose her suctioned hold on Morgan’s nipple, slid her body up the length of her, and caught Morgan’s lips in another sensual kiss. Her fingers slid to Morgan’s face and into the strands of her hair.

  Morgan broke the kiss and slipped her lips down Shane’s neck, finding a throbbing pulse under her tongue. She couldn’t control herself anymore. The more she wanted Shane to stop, the more she wanted her to continue it. The more she told herself this was a mistake, the less her body listened. Her insides came alive under Shane’s caress. Her nerves jumped with each heated trail of Shane’s wet tongue across her nipples. Her insides pulsed with anticipation of Shane’s fingers diving inside her.

  Get some damn control, Morgan. This is wrong. Stop, before it’s too late.

  She demanded her body to listen, to stop the heavenly madness before it went too far. She yanked her head from Shane’s neck and attempted to slither out from under her. Shane’s eyes fluttered open, peering down at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.”