Capture My Heart

by PatsBard

Disclaimers: This is a work of original erotic fiction copyrighted by the author. The characters within may not be borrowed for use in another story without the express consent of the author.

Sex Disclaimer: This story involves graphic, consensual sex between two women. If this is illegal in your part of the world, or if you are underage, please do not read any further.

Comments and Constructive Criticisms: May be sent to the author at

Copyright March 2000 by Barbara Davey


Across a crowded room eyes shine with muted fire. The woman makes small talk as she circles through the guests, her gaze never wavering from her prey. The object of her attention swallows heavily as those eyes devour her; hardly able to keep track of the conversation she is forced into. More people enter the crowded room...blocking the view temporarily until a low growl is heard. The crowd parts.…

Eyes of molten gold caress her, sending shivers down her spine, making her hands tremble. Her conversation partner eases away...driven off by a darkly raised eyebrow. Her mouth is dry, heart pounding. Still not a word from the woman as she continues to stare at her hungrily.

A step, and then another. The woman stands close to her, the warmth of her breath sending trickles of pleasure through her prey. The burning eyes bore into her questions...just waiting for a movement. She makes the movement, swaying slightly forward, her mouth parting in silent anticipation. The woman's lips curve upward, eyes dancing now in amusement. "Come." A whispered word that sparks an answering fire. Her heart leaps in her chest as she follows her from the room.

The door closes with a soft click, the noise of the deadbolt being thrown startling her. "Who are you?" she asks, unsure and hesitant now that they are alone.

The dark eyebrow rises again, full lips quirking slightly. "Does it matter?"

A tingling in her chest moves quickly to her nether regions as she realizes the answer is no. Shyly, her eyes take in the figure before her: the aristocratic beauty of her face, shoulders broad and strong, breasts full and straining against their silk confines, flat belly smoothing down to generous hips, and long, long legs. No, she would follow this woman anywhere, regardless of who she is or how long she has known her.

Then slender fingers are plucking at the buttons of her blouse, stripping her quickly, easily. Her skirt falls to the floor and she is gloriously naked, pink nipples rising to hardness with wanton desire. Goosebumps chase across her flesh as the woman stands unmoving, watching her. She catches a glimpse of a smile before the woman turns her to face the bed.

The rustling of clothes follows then she feels the heat of her close to her back. Twin points graze her shoulders, and she gasps as she feels the tickle of the woman’s mound pressing against her buttocks.

"I will make you scream." The words are a warm, moist whisper in her ear, strong hands grasping her hips as her knees threaten to buckle. The hands gently pull her backward until she is pillowed by soft breasts; the woman moving slightly to place a long thigh between her legs.

Steady now, she closes her eyes and takes deep, ragged breaths as slender fingers glide up her hips to her stomach, lightly tickling, then moving to her hard nipples. She gasps as one nipple is gripped between two fingers and tweaked. Liquid seeps from her as her clit begins to pulse with need. Moaning softly, she reaches back and cups the woman’s behind with her hands, as much to steady herself as it is to feed the compulsion to touch her. The strong thigh spreads her further and a hand traces a path down to blonde curls that are soaked with passion. A hiss from the woman is muffled in her neck, teeth biting into her neck, fingers slipping through well-lubricated folds.

"Oh God!" Two long fingers slide home, and her sex is cupped in a strong hand. The other hand continues to knead and tease her breasts, and her head falls back onto the woman’s shoulder. "Oh, please…."

The fingers twitch within her sending spasms of fire through her veins. Her hips begin to rock in a steady rhythm even as her vaginal muscles squeeze against the fullness inside her. Her breath spurts out in gasping moans and her fingers clench on the woman’s soft ass.

Her grip is loosened and she cries out in dismay as the warm body leaves her. She is lifted and carried to the bed, to be eased gently down on the edge. Her eyes are wide as she stares into cinnamon depths blazing with lust…and something else that she can’t begin to fathom. Then a hot mouth devours her breast and she is lost in sensation. Her body arches into the moist heat, and a hoarse cry escapes her throat. Fingers plunge into her again and this time she screams…an inarticulate noise begging for more. A low growl from her seducer, then a path of fire is blazed down her belly. The mouth that devoured her breast attacks her clit with hedonistic abandon, hot tongue lathing the small nub as the long fingers continue to plumb her depths. Stroke after stroke bringing her to heights unimagined, then the fingers curl and teeth bite down with cruel tenderness on the small bundle of tingling nerves that has become her world. She explodes in a fury of lights, colors sparkling against the backdrop of her closed eyelids, fire spreading from her center down to her toes and back again. Her inner muscles, pulsing like liquid velvet, milking the fingers for every drop of sensation they could bring. Her throat raw from screams that echo throughout the room.

Then she is enveloped in warmth as the woman cradles her to her chest and croons softly to her, kissing away the tears she didn’t know she had cried. And she sleeps…happy, sated, and sure of where she belongs.



Chapter 1

"C’mon, Stacy, it’ll be fun!" Marjorie Campton barely topped five feet, but her dark, twinkling eyes and bright smile revealed an irrepressible free spirit. Stacy McAllister sighed silently as she rebuked herself yet again for coming to the break room for lunch, rather than leaving the store.

"Marj, I told you before that I don’t like bars…especially strip joints. You can tell me all about it Monday." She tossed her brown lunch bag into the trash and finished off her soda as she waited for Marjorie’s next volley.

"Oh, for God’s sake! It’s the Chippendales! They’re a much higher class of stripper than the other clubs have." Marjorie wiggled dark brows saucily at her young blonde friend.

Stacy burst out laughing even as she shook her head no. "Male strippers at a male gay bar…now why on earth would you want to go there? You can’t even pick anyone up!"

"Oh, pooh. You’re no fun at all since you went to that ritzy party last month. You need to get out and loosen up. Get back into the real world, honey."

Stacy’s smile faded as a flash of sultry gold eyes came back to her suddenly. She could still feel soft lips and strong fingers sliding gently across her skin, and she felt a burst of heat explode in her stomach, settling into her lower body with a steady throb. Four weeks and she still couldn’t get the woman out of her mind.

"You’re just jealous because you weren’t invited, Marj," she retorted weakly.

Marjorie didn’t notice her friend’s loss of composure as she hurriedly put away her leftovers. "We’d better get back. Heaven forbid we take an hour and one minute lunch," she complained. "Who died and made checkout supervisors God anyway? And you weren’t invited either, Little Miss," she shot over her shoulder. "You won a radio contest."

The two women rushed to the time clock, then sped to the front of the store so the next group of clerks could get their breaks. Stacy was relieved that the conversation had been interrupted, but even so, it took all of her concentration to make it through the rest of her shift. Memories of the party and the intense sexual encounter that had followed kept invading her thoughts and leaving her trembling with frustrated desire.

A mumbled excuse of having to get to her second job got her away from Marjorie and her well-meaning co-workers, and Stacy fervently hoped that they wouldn’t remember she had the night off. Slinging her bulky purse over her shoulder and sticking her hands in her pockets to ward off the slight chill in the air, she set off down the sidewalk and deeper into the city.

Fingers playing absently with the change in her pocket and eyes downcast, Stacy let her thoughts drift back a month in time. She could still feel the keen disappointment of waking up alone in the queen-sized bed with only the faint traces of perfume and the scent of their lovemaking lingering in the air. That, and the indentation in the pillow where the dark haired woman had laid her head, had been the only proof that the events of the evening had really happened.

Still filled with languorous warmth and not quite awake yet, she had stayed in bed thinking that the woman–God, she didn’t even know her name–was in the bathroom or maybe out getting them breakfast. An hour of that had started a chill in her body that she felt even now. The ringing of the telephone had harshly crushed her certainty that everything had been so perfect and so right, that she had finally found her forever. The concierge’s polished voice graciously asked how her stay was, and the man had been excruciatingly polite telling her that everything had been taken care of and please come back and see them soon.

Even a month later the memory of that moment brought a sob to her throat and Stacy stumbled slightly on the sidewalk. She didn’t come fully back into the present until the jostling motion she felt escalated into a sharp tug on her left arm. Her purse strap snapped and she yelled out in dismay as a grubby young man went tearing off with her purse clutched to his chest.

Before she could run after him herself, another man took off in pursuit. Any other time Stacy may have laughed at the absurdity of such a well-dressed man, obviously on his way to the theater or the symphony, dashing pell-mell after a threadbare thief. As it was, all she could do was look after the two men in shock, knowing that her entire paycheck was in that purse…money she desperately needed to get through the next two weeks.

"Don’t worry, miss. Michael can still sprint pretty fast for an old guy," a deep, velvety voice reassured her.

"Old? He doesn’t look…." Stacy’s voice trailed off as she suddenly met twinkling amber eyes. Her heart lurched painfully in her chest and her knees buckled.

The dark haired woman was startled to see the blood drain from the pretty young woman’s face and she almost didn’t manage to catch her when she collapsed. She eased the girl down to sit on the sidewalk, crouching down beside her as she peered anxiously into deep green eyes.

"Are you all right? Here, give me your hands." The woman chafed Stacy’s hands, trying to bring some warmth back into them. "You should be wearing gloves, miss. It’s entirely too cold to be out with nothing on to protect you." Never mind the fact that the woman had no gloves on either. She knew she was babbling, but the girl had scared her–still was scaring her as a matter of fact; that intent stare was beginning to make her nervous.


"What?" The girl’s voice was almost inaudible.

"M-my name’s Stacy," the young blonde answered hesitantly. Then she continued in a rush, as if she were afraid she’d be interrupted, "Where did you go? Why did you leave me like that? You didn’t tell me your name or how to get in touch with you or anything!"

Tears glistened in Stacy’s eyes, breaking the woman’s heart even though she had no idea what the girl was talking about. "Perhaps when my husband gets back, we should get you to a hospital. Make sure you’re going to be all right," she suggested gently, her hands still trapped in Stacy’s desperate grip.

"Husband?" Stacy choked out. Then, to the dark haired woman’s horror, the young blonde passed out cold.

Michael Brandt jogged up to his wife’s side, a concerned frown marring the handsome lines of his face. "What happened, Emily? Was she hurt in the attack?"

Emily swept her hand through her hair and gave him a wry smile. "I told her you were my husband and she fainted."

"I didn’t know I still had that effect on women," he responded smugly, only to receive a poke in the ribs.

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, darling, but I think it was more that I had a husband at all."

Michael stared at his wife blankly for a moment, then scowled. "Crystal," he said flatly.

Emily nodded then brought her attention back to the young woman lying in her lap. She was a pretty thing, certainly enough, but she seemed awfully young even for Crystal to dally with. Emily’s sister tended to gravitate to more worldly women, not someone like Stacy whose sweetly rounded cheeks and ivory skin bespoke of a girl not much more than twenty.

Stacy stirred in her arms and suddenly Emily was captured by a misty green gaze. It didn’t occur very often, but every now and then Emily envied her sister’s life style. Never had she felt that envy as keenly as she did at this moment. The girl was breathtaking.

"Emily…Emily!" Her husband’s voice jarred her back to her senses and Emily blushed when she met his amused smile.

"Ah…sorry," she murmured. "Just thinking for a second there. Help us up, Michael."

Michael assisted both women to their feet, then handed Stacy her purse. "Here you are, miss. I managed to get this, but the thief got away. Why don’t you let us take you home?"

"Oh no, I couldn’t," Stacy protested softly, trying to look anywhere but at the handsome couple before her. God, but Emily looked just like her mystery lover! They could be twins….

She gasped and her eyes flew to Emily’s face just as the woman reached for her. "You’re not going to faint again, are you?" Then turning to Michael, "Call us a cab, darling. We’re taking her home."

Emily’s tone brooked no opposition and the next thing Stacy knew she was seated in the back of a cab with her dark haired savior, while Michael rode up front with the driver. By the time they reached her modest apartment building, she had possession of their business card with their home number and address, and Emily had written Stacy’s information down in a small, elegant date book.

Brushing off Stacy’s gratitude gently, Emily walked her up to the entrance. "We’ll be in touch this weekend to see how you’re faring, dear. If you need anything…anything at all, just call us."

"You’ve done more than enough already, but thank you," Stacy told the woman quietly.

Once assured that Stacy was safely inside, Emily returned to the cab. Michael gave her no argument when she requested that they return home for the evening. He had a feeling his wife was going to be making a phone call or two.

Sure enough, the housekeeper had barely gotten their coats from them when Emily strode determinedly to the study. Long fingers stabbed a string of number on the phone. "Crystal Beaumont, Room 512, please." She listened a moment more, then broke in heatedly, "I don’t care if she has an entire chorus line in there! Get–her–on–the–phone!"


The dark-haired woman’s slender frame was covered with a light sheen of sweat, the muscles of her powerful forearm bulging with effort. Each grunt she expelled was echoed by an ecstatic moan from the small form beneath her, and as she increased her thrusts the moaning matched her pace.

"Almost…there," she gasped out, her voice muffled by the other woman’s smooth thigh. Then her head jerked up and back at the harsh ringing of the phone.

"Unbefuckalievable!" Bright amber eyes glared at the sleek black instrument, as if she could incinerate it with the force of her frustration and anger.

No such luck.

Wiping off her hands on silk sheets, she growled unintelligibly and snatched up the receiver. "What!"

"Crystal, so glad I found you in," came the calm voice of her twin sister.

Crystal sighed heavily and cast a rueful glance at the blonde woman in her bed, who looked as frustrated as Crystal felt. "You found me in, all right," she retorted, voice laden with innuendo.

"I’d apologize, but you know how much I hate to lie," Emily answered smoothly. Without giving her sister a chance to respond, she continued, "Do you recall a woman named Stacy McAllister?"

Crystal repeated the name and furrowed her brow in thought. "Nooo," she drawled out finally. "Why? Did I get her pregnant?" The conversation stopped momentarily as she laughed uproariously at her own joke.

Emily was not amused.

"Stacy McAllister," Emily continued frigidly, "is a very sweet young woman who was unfortunate enough to cross your path last month. Do you at least remember the Gallery Showing at the Marriott?"

Crystal remembered that little party all too well. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Hold on just a second, sis." The dark haired woman set the phone down and turned to the naked beauty in her bed. "Sorry, Princess. I have to finish this phone call and it will probably take me a while." She smiled apologetically. "You know how relatives are."

Princess Magdalena pouted prettily. She wasn’t used to her favors being abruptly turned away in such a manner. She was, after all, the one and only heir to her kingdom, small though it may be. "You will call me later?" she asked in heavily accented English.

"Of course I will. Just as soon as I get this straightened out," Crystal promised, dropping a quick kiss on the blonde princess’ full lips and tweaking a ripe nipple. "Now go…" She watched the small form getting dressed with an appreciative eye and sighed heavily before picking the phone back up again.

"All right, Em. What’s this all about?"

"This is about Stacy McAllister. I want to know what you did to her." Emily drummed long, slender fingers on the desk while she waited for Crystal to answer her.

There was something decidedly odd about hearing a voice so similar to her own coming over the phone line, especially when it held that decidedly demanding tone. Maybe she’s talking about someone else, she thought hopefully. "I don’t recall a Stacy offhand. There was a Marcia and a Kelly and a Marie…."

Emily cracked her hand down on the hard wood of her desk and Crystal jumped at the sharp sound. "You listen to me, you little piece of…"

"Now, Emily," Crystal interrupted hastily, "No need to resort to name calling here. Honestly, I didn’t meet anyone who introduced themselves as Stacy."

Emily took a deep breath and gathered herself together. She had never gotten involved in Crystal’s affairs before, but there was just something about that poor girl that brought out all of her protective instincts. And there was something Crystal was hiding…she could feel it. "Let me refresh your memory then: about five feet three, long blonde hair, eyes…" Emily hesitated a moment, thinking. "Hmm, her eyes kept changing color…but they were a bright emerald green when she first saw me," she ended challengingly.

Crystal sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her temple with one hand as the description of the woman sparked a vision she’d tried desperately to forget. Jesus, she could still taste her, still feel the velvety warmth of the girl wrapped around her fingers, could still hear the ecstatic cries as she’d…

"Crystal? Are you still there? Crystal!"

"Y-yes. I’m still here." Crystal cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure, grateful beyond measure that Emily couldn’t see the way her hands were trembling. She briefly thought of coming back with a smart-ass comment about the number of blondes in the world, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew exactly who her sister was referring to.

"Do you remember her?" Emily snapped.

"Of course I remember her!" she snapped back. "She never told me her name, that’s all."

"You mean you never bothered to ask her," Emily retorted. There was a pause while both women tried to collect themselves. Emily and Crystal didn’t fight often, but it was a strain on both of them when they did. "Crystal," Emily continued in a much softer tone, "the girl fainted when she found out Michael was my husband. Please…tell me what you did to her."

"I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re thinking, Em. I just…we just…" Crystal sighed again. "We had a really good night together."

Emily could just imagine what that might entail, but she kept her comments about that to herself. "And then you just left her," she stated flatly.

"That’s what I do, Em," Crystal muttered defensively. "I don’t want to be shackled down by anyone. Look what it’s done to you," she added snidely. But she couldn’t keep the image of wavy blonde hair cascading over a snow-white pillowcase from drifting across her mind. Or how innocent and young and breathtakingly beautiful the girl looked as she lay there sleeping. It had taken every ounce of willpower she had to leave the girl that morning.

Emily looked up as a piece of paper was slipped in front of her. She lifted her face for a quick kiss and smiled. "I rather like being shackled. You should try it before you knock it, Crys."

Her husband’s blue eyes twinkled as he took one of her wrists in his hands. "Shackles could be interesting," he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows.

Emily swatted him and blushed. "That’s not what we were talking about," she hissed at him. "Now go away!"

Crystal laughed. "Tell Mike I said hi, will you?"

"As soon as I’m speaking to him again," Emily answered with a chuckle. She really hated it when he made her blush like that.

"All right, sis." Crystal was suddenly serious again. "What’s the point to all this? It was a month ago, for God’s sake. Life moves on."

"Not for you, it doesn’t. Not until you apologize to her."

"Apologize?" Crystal spluttered. "For what? Giving her the best night of her young life? Not bloody likely!"

"Crys…you didn’t see her today," Emily was practically pleading, solely focused on trying to get her playboy sister to see what she had seen in that small blonde. "Some hoodlum stole her purse and I stayed with her while Michael went after him. She looked at me like I was her world, for God’s sake! Then after she found out Michael was my husband…" Emily shook her head. "Crystal, I broke that girl’s heart and I don’t even know her!"

Crystal sat up straight on the bed. "Her purse was stolen? Is she okay? Did he hurt her?"

Emily sighed in exasperation. "No, he didn’t hurt her. You hurt her! Are you listening to anything I’m saying to you?"

Crystal’s heart was pounding at the thought of the blonde being injured. And to have her purse stolen…. She growled and wished she had been there to take care of that slimy bastard. Then her sister’s words sunk in again. "I didn’t hurt her, Em. We…we… Damn it, Em, I didn’t hurt her!" She couldn’t bear it if she had.

"You’re going to call her and apologize," Emily demanded. "I don’t care what you say or what it takes, but you’re going to make that girl happy."

"Fine. Fine, Emily." Crystal gave in wearily. "Give me her number and I’ll call her." God, but she didn’t want to hear that voice again. She didn’t think she could resist it this time. It was only one night…a matter of a few hours. How could the girl…Stacy…how could Stacy have gotten under her skin so easily?

"Oh no," Emily drawled out. "I know your tricks. Get a pen and paper." Crystal frowned in confusion, but did as she was told. "You have two hours to get packed. Here’s the flight information." Emily rattled off the flight numbers and departure time while Crystal tried unsuccessfully to protest. "Be on that flight, Crystal. Michael and I will be there to pick you up."

A click and a dial tone, and Crystal was left to stare at the phone in stunned amazement. Three hours later she was on a plane leaving Monte Carlo and headed for New York City, flirting madly with a dark-eyed, dark-haired stewardess in a vain attempt to keep from thinking about Stacy McAllister.


Chapter 2

Bass thumping, guitars twanging, and a high tenor warbling heart breaking lyrics accompanied Stacy as she bustled through her apartment in a cleaning frenzy. Sometimes she used rock and roll, sometimes she used alternative rock, but this time she needed to exorcize her pain and the best method for that was classic country. Hank Williams Senior knew how she felt.

"I’m walkin’ the floor over you. I can’t sleep a wink that is true…" she sang along with the CD. Of course, she was crawling across the floor at the moment, but the thought was the same. After tossing and turning for half the night, Stacy had given up and began to clean her apartment from top to bottom. When she was angry or upset it was the only thing that seemed to clear her mind, but she was almost finished and she could still feel the tears ready to fall.

The ringing of the phone caught her attention and she rushed to turn the music down, then snatched the receiver before it could ring for the fifth time. "Hello?"

"Hello. Stacy? This is Emily Brandt."

Stacy stared at the phone for a minute then brought it back to her ear when she heard her name coming from it in louder and louder tones. "I’m here. Sorry, I just had to catch my breath for a second," she finally replied.

"Am I interrupting?" Emily asked, concerned.

"No, no…just finishing up some housework, actually. What can I do for you?" Even though her entire body was trembling, the blonde was pretty proud of the fact that her voice was polite and even. She had this horrible feeling, though, that if Emily started whispering she’d fall over in a dead faint. She sounded entirely too much like her.

"Well, I was just wondering…if you’re not too busy and all…if you’d mind if my sister and I stopped over."

A muted voice in the background protested. Stacy caught vague snatches. "But you said… I didn’t know I’d… Dammit, Emily!"

"Emily? What’s going on?" Stacy’s heart was pounding furiously in her chest. She knew who Emily’s sister was, she had thought of nothing else since the woman and her husband had dropped her off the day before. But she never thought in a million years that she’d be coming to her house, or anywhere close to her, this soon.

There was a hushed conversation, then Emily came back on the line. "There," she stated smugly. "All settled. We’ll be over in an hour, is that all right with you?"

Stacy had a feeling that she had little choice in the matter. She nodded mutely and blushed when she realized Emily couldn’t see her. "Y-yes. That’s fine. I’ll be here."

"Wonderful! Crystal and I will see you shortly, then. Bye-bye!"

A click and Stacy was staring stupidly at the phone, wondering what the hell had just happened. "Crystal." She tried her mystery lover’s name out and it tasted sweet on her tongue. Hugging herself, she drifted in memories for a long space of time.

"An hour!" The soft smile gracing her lips disappeared as Stacy lunged to her bedroom to begin the arduous task of picking out what to wear. What exactly did one wear for the woman who took your heart then disappeared without a trace?

Fifty-five minutes later Stacy was pacing in front of her door, comfortably dressed in a forest green sweater and a pair of her favorite jeans. Shoes had given her pause, but she’d finally decided to wear white Reeboks. It’s not like they were going out anywhere, after all. She could only imagine the types of high-class restaurants the Brandt’s frequented and highly doubted she’d ever see the interior of one.

The buzzer rang, interrupting her rambling thoughts and she quickly pressed the button by the door. "Come on up." Stacy released a sigh at the audible tremor in her voice. Good start, wonder child, she chastised herself, tugging gently at the hem of her sweater and nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Soon enough, a knock came at the door and she took a deep, calming breath before opening it to receive her visitors.

Emily entered first, taking Stacy’s hands in hers and depositing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "How are you feeling? Better today, dear?"

"Fine, thank you," Stacy replied, a light blush tinting her cheeks, and she couldn’t help her smile. Something about Emily Brandt comforted her and made her feel at ease, even though other emotions were roiling through her. "Come in, please."

Emily took two steps forward, then looked back over her shoulder and sighed. "I swear…" she muttered softly. A long arm reached around the door jam and pulled a black leather jacket and its owner into the apartment.

Stacy’s breath caught in her throat as soon as Crystal stumbled into the room. Identical twins, yes, but where Emily was softly curving and radiated a soothing warmth, her sister was all angles and planes, unease fairly pulsing off her. For the briefest second emerald and amber met, and Stacy was back in that hotel room with her body on fire, desperate for this dark haired savior to bring her home.

Then Crystal dropped her gaze and the moment was lost.

Not trusting her voice, Stacy waved the two women to the over-stuffed couch in the center of the living area. Emily gave her a bright smile and looked around in approval. "Nice place you have here, Stacy."

The apartment was modestly decorated with a few paintings hung here and there. An entertainment center lined with bookshelves took up most of the left wall, while the right had a closet, a hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom, and then the entrance to the kitchen just visible in the far corner. Sliding glass doors, hidden now by pale blue drapes, led to a small balcony outside.

"Thank you," Stacy responded shyly. She couldn’t help noticing that Crystal was looking everywhere but at her, and she slowly sat down in the recliner. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she clasped them together in her lap.

The silence in the room was almost unbearable and Stacy had the fleeting wish that she’d thought to leave the stereo on. Then again, she had no idea what type of music these two women liked. The only music in the hotel room that night had been the music she and Crystal had…

The blood rushed to Stacy’s head so quickly she was left with tears in her eyes. Mumbling something about drinks, she escaped to her small kitchen where she leaned against the counter and struggled to get her breathing under control. She could hear the two women talking in the other room and when they fell silent, she hurried to retrieve the coffee cups.

"Let me help you with that, Stacy." The blonde jumped a foot in the air, startling a laugh out of Emily. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to surprise you."

Stacy gave her a faltering smile back and sighed. "I don’t know why I’m so nervous," she admitted.

Emily favored her with a steady gaze and shook her head. "I believe you and Crystal met last month, didn’t you?" she asked delicately.

Concentrating on pouring the coffee, Stacy took a moment to reply. "Yes. In a manner of speaking, that is." She squared her shoulders and looked directly at her guest. "Somehow I don’t think your sister remembers it at all, Mrs. Brandt."

"Please, Stacy, call me Emily." The dark haired woman gave a pained smile. "My sister isn’t known for her subtlety, but trust me…she remembers you." She took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. "Crystal left New York the day after the party. Yesterday was the first time I’ve spoken with her since then."

"Why are you telling me this? Why are you even here?" Stacy cried, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

Emily wrapped the smaller woman up in a hug and sighed heavily. "I’m here because I saw how you reacted to me yesterday and I knew my sister had to be involved. When I called her, she confirmed it. I don’t know you, Stacy," she leaned back to look the girl directly in the eye, "but I know Crystal hurt you and I won’t allow that to happen."

The sound of a throat clearing drew them apart. Stacy finished with the coffee and composed herself while Crystal and Emily glared at each other. The trio was silent again as they went back into the living room.

Emily took up the monumental task of getting the ball rolling. "Odd as this is," she began with a wry grin, "Stacy McAllister, this is my sister, Crystal Beaumont." When neither woman seemed to want to say anything, she sighed and continued. "Stacy, I believe Crystal wants to say something to you." She nudged her sister hard with her elbow.

‘Dammit, Em, you don’t have to poke me!" Crystal hissed viciously.

Stacy couldn’t help it. She laughed. The absurdity of sitting in her own living room with two identical gorgeous women who were snipping at each other was just too much. She laughed until tears streamed down her face, while Crystal and Emily gaped at her. "I’m sorry," she finally gasped out. "You two are just too much. One of you trying to defend the honor of a woman you don’t even know, and the other trying to figure out how to get the hell out of my apartment without being noticed." She shook her head and wiped at her eyes.

"Yes, well…" The chirping of a cell phone interrupted Emily’s words and she politely excused herself.

Stacy leaned back in her chair, hiding her face behind her hand. She didn’t want to risk looking at Crystal. That one time in the doorway had been quite enough to know that she’d still walk through fire for just one glimpse of her smile. It made no sense.

Emily breezed back into the room and patted Crystal on the shoulder. "I have an appointment I forgot about, Crystal. Do you mind staying here while I go take care of it? I thought so," she continued, not giving her sister a chance to answer. "Stacy, just give me a call when you want me to get her out of your hair, all right? Good! Bye then." And she was out the door so fast, neither Stacy nor Crystal could get a word in.

Two intimately acquainted strangers sat staring at each other in stunned amazement.


Crystal snapped her mouth shut and glanced uneasily around the room, before bringing her attention back to the small blonde who lived in her dreams. "My sister has delusions of knighthood," she explained quietly. Long, slender fingers picked up the coffee cup and gently swirled its contents. "She’s a sucker for beautiful maidens in distress."

"And you’re not?" Stacy asked.

Full lips twisted in a wry grin. "I usually cause the distress."

Stacy’s eyes dropped as she was filled with keen disappointment. "I see. So you run around picking up women, while your sister follows along and tries to put the pieces back together again when you’re through with them." She laughed bitterly. "Is her ‘appointment’ with another one of your conquests?"

Crystal flushed uncomfortably. "No. I don’t know what the deal is with that. And she’s never gotten involved in my…affairs…before." She shrugged. "The women I get involved with are pretty happy to get whatever piece of me they can. When it’s over, it’s over." Even as she spoke, she was wincing internally. She didn’t want to talk about all this. Especially to this girl. Christ, Stacy was the only one she….

Not going there. No way.

But she couldn’t keep herself from following the small blonde with her eyes. Watching as her hips swayed under the tight jeans she was wearing. Hands twitching as they remembered the firm swell of the girl’s behind in their grasp. Then drawing in a sharp breath when Stacy turned around and showed her the teardrops glistening in mist green eyes.

"Why are you here?" the girl demanded hoarsely. "You took my body, you had your fun with me. What the hell else do you want from me?"


"Nothing." Crystal stood up and towered over the smaller woman, so close she could see flecks of brown floating in the girl’s irises. "Emily told me to apologize to you. So there," she took a deep breath and heaved it out in a sigh, "I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just wanted… Damn!" She turned and stormed to the door.

"No! You wait just a minute!" Stacy ran after her and pulled her back around. Crystal swept a trembling hand through her hair and kept her gaze fixed over Stacy’s shoulder. "Just wanted what? Dammit, look at me, Crystal!"

"I just wanted…" Their eyes met and Crystal was lost again. This was why she ignored every other beautiful woman in the room that night. This was why she left that morning. This was why she hopped on the first plane she found and left the country.

Her head dipped down and she touched the soft lips that mesmerized her, with the barest hint of pressure to remind herself of their heat. Then more as she leaned further into the girl and drank greedily from her, arms sliding effortlessly around Stacy’s trim waist, exulting as the blonde’s hands tangled in her hair, groaning as her tongue was met by another and they tasted each other’s souls.

Slowly she drew back, strong hands keeping Stacy’s hips tight against her own. "I just wanted…to see if you tasted as good as you looked," she finished, swallowing hard and trying to stop her knees from buckling. "You were so beautiful," she added in a whisper. "I couldn’t stay away from you."

Stacy searched the woman’s eyes for the truth. A deep, endless expanse of wheaten gold gazed steadily back at her, aching with need. She buried her face in the warm silk of Crystal’s shirt and breathed in the musky fragrance of her perfume. "Why did you leave me, then?" Her body trembled with the onslaught of memories. "It felt so special…so right. And then you were gone without a word or a note or anything."

"That’s what I do, Em." For the first time in her life, Crystal was ashamed of her cavalier attitude toward women. She had tried—God knows she had tried—to lump Stacy in the same category as every other woman she had loved and left. Gorgeous, empty shells placed on Earth simply for her pleasure, and she had taken what she wanted and went on her merry way never thinking of them again.

Until Stacy.

Until one small blonde with eyes that swept from forest green to the aquamarine of the Caribbean Sea all in a matter of moments. Whose blonde hair shimmered with streaks of sunshine, and whose fresh-faced innocence made her heart clench in her chest with a longing so fierce she couldn’t breathe. One tiny woman who left her more frightened than when she dangled from a mountainside by her fingertips with nothing but air between her and the boulder-strewn ground two thousand feet below. Why did she leave, indeed.

She pressed a kiss into Stacy’s hair and slowly led her over to the couch. Arranging a small pillow against the arm and stretching full length along the cushions, she beckoned for the girl to join her. Anxious to be wrapped up in the heat of those long arms again, Stacy hastened to comply.

Crystal valiantly ignored the sparks of desire coursing through her veins. Instead, she concentrated on lightly massaging Stacy’s shoulders with one hand, while the other rested on the pert upsweep of her cute backside.

"I didn’t want to leave," she finally admitted on a soft exhalation of air. "And I thought that if I left the way I did, then we’d never see each other again and my life would get back to normal."

Stacy frowned in confusion. "You mean meeting a complete stranger and sweeping her off her feet isn’t normal for you?" A chuckle rumbled through the chest beneath her.

"Oh, that’s normal, all right. What isn’t normal is for me to want the night to never end." A finger traced the blonde’s earlobe. "Emily’s the settling type, not me. She’s always wanted a home, a family…the two point five kids society demands of women. I just wanted to be free. To go wherever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to. Just hop on a plane or in a car and take off without having to check in with anyone."

"What did meeting me do to threaten that?" Stacy wondered out loud, intrigued with a small bump that formed under the silk of Crystal’s shirt. She kept herself from touching her tongue to it, but it was a close thing.

Suddenly she was lifted in the air, amber eyes burning into her own. "Because when I saw you…when I touched you…I never wanted to let you go again." Just as quickly, she was pressed back into the pillows of Crystal’s breasts, long arms hugging her tightly while her lower body was wrapped in the iron strength of Crystal’s legs. "I don’t know if I could live like that."

Stacy tried to see the world through Crystal’s eyes, but it was completely foreign to her. She had worked hard to earn this apartment, to have a place she could call home. Her job might not be much in the grand scheme of things, but she gave it her all and she’d met her closest friends there. She’d even gotten a second job in order to keep the sense of security living in one place gave her.

She sighed heavily and untangled herself from her warm nest. She couldn’t bring herself to go far…only to the floor with her back against the couch. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she leaned her head on her crossed arms, steadfastly ignoring Crystal shifting positions behind her.

A lone tear leaked from her eye at the soft question. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"We don’t have much in common, do we?" she answered sadly.

"No," came the equally sad reply. "We don’t."


Chapter 3

Crystal rolled over onto her side, pulling Stacy back against the couch and resting her chin on the girl’s shoulder. "You know," she mused thoughtfully, "we didn’t have anything in common last month either."

It took Stacy a minute to work that one through, the low voice in her ear making it difficult to think clearly. Shaking her head, she turned around to look into sparkling eyes. "You are so bad. You just want to get me into bed again!" Her expression of righteous indignation was ruined by the smile edging onto her lips.

"I never said any such thing!" Crystal laughed. "I simply made an observation, that’s all. But if you want to go to bed, we can do that, too." Dark eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

The blonde leaned over and stole a quick kiss. Crystal was just too close to her to keep from touching one way or another, and she wrapped her fingers around a strong forearm to maintain contact.

A heavy sigh escaped her and she ignored the tempting offer for the moment. "You like to jaunt around the world, I like to stay at home. You’re rich, I’m poor…"

"You’re blonde, I’m brunette," Crystal cut in. "And you’re hardly poor, Stacy."

"I have enough to make ends meet and that’s about it, Crys."

This time it was Crystal who sighed. "You’re making this more difficult than it has to be."

"I’m just trying to be realistic, that’s all," Stacy returned. "We spent one night together and then you ran away. If it wasn’t for your sister, you wouldn’t even be here right now."

Crystal had the decency to blush at that. "Yeah, well…I’d have found you eventually," she mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Would you have? It’s been a month now. You probably never even gave me a second thought."

Crystal’s head snapped up and she glared at the smaller woman. "That’s not true! I thought about you every day…every other minute. And when I slept I dreamt about you!"

"Then why didn’t you come back?" Stacy’s voice was thick with the grief and anger she’d kept bottled up for four weeks, and the tears she’d been holding back streaked down flushed cheeks.

Crystal swung over the edge of the couch and gathered Stacy into her arms, tucking the blonde head into the crook of her shoulder. Gently, she rocked the girl, her mind swirling with words she didn’t know how to say.

"I thought it would go away," she whispered finally. "I didn’t know. I swear it. I just didn’t know."

They sat like that for some time, until the shadows from the fading light touched their tangled forms and reminded them of the hour. "You should probably call your sister," Stacy mentioned softly.

Crystal tightened her arms around the girl, then slowly got up without a word. Stretching a hand out, she helped Stacy up as well. Once they were both standing, Crystal shoved her hands in her pockets and looked aimlessly around the room. Nothing had gone the way she had pictured it earlier.

A simple phone conversation: "Hi, this is Crystal. I’m the one who rocked your little world last month. So sorry for the inconvenience. Hope you have a nice life." And that would have been the end of it. No touching of velvet-soft skin, no running of fingers through silky blonde hair, no tasting of pink lips that begged to be kissed. No....

Well, fuck.

The call to her sister didn’t take long; no doubt she’d been sitting impatiently by the phone. With that taken care of, Crystal found herself at a loss once more.

"I get off work at 5:00 tomorrow," Stacy volunteered hesitantly.

A dark eyebrow rose sharply and Crystal pursed her lips in thought. "Do you, now. That’s handy to know." Mist green eyes dropped to the floor, eliciting a sigh from the dark woman. "I’ll…umm…probably still be in town. You could give me a call, maybe. If you want."

Much to the jetsetter’s dismay, she felt sweat dampening her hands and she sighed again. One night and one night only, with maybe the odd weekend thrown in here and there. That was her rule. Give ‘em anything more and they started talking about relationships and commitments. She shuddered in reaction. That was Emily’s bailiwick, not hers. What was the point of good looks and money if you tied yourself down and couldn’t enjoy it?

Her attention was drawn back to Stacy, who was busily straightening the cushions. The dark woman cleared her throat. "So…you’ll call, right?"

Stacy looked up and bit her lip anxiously. "Promise you’ll be there?"

Oh yes. Crystal Beaumont, playgirl extraordinaire, was going to be sitting by the phone waiting for a little slip of a woman to call her. There was something seriously wrong here.

"I’ll be waiting. I promise," she answered softly, startled by the sudden wave of anticipation that washed through her at the words.

The smile that lit Stacy’s face was enough to make Crystal wish she hadn’t called Emily yet. But the harsh jangle of the buzzer let her know it was too late. Slipping her jacket on, she stepped closer to the door while the blonde let Emily know Crystal was on her way down.

"All right then," she said with forced cheerfulness. "Guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is," Stacy answered with a small smile.

"Right. Okay." Crystal hesitated for a moment longer, causing the blonde to tilt her head questioningly. With a sheepish grin, she leaned down and gave Stacy a quick goodbye kiss, which left them both a little breathless.

They stared at each other for another eternity before Crystal went out the door and jogged down the steps, certain that if she lingered one minute more she’d end up doing something really ridiculous.

Like dragging the pretty blonde into the bedroom and locking them inside until she’d loved her out of her system.


She didn't want to go.

Every step she took away from the small apartment and the woman within required all of her concentration to make. By the time Crystal made it to the outer doors of the building, her heart was pounding like a jackhammer and her head ached from the tightness of her jaw. The dark haired woman practically ran to the safety of her sister's Mercedes.

Trembling hands fought with the seatbelt before successfully engaging it. "Goddamned piece of crap car," she snarled, crossing her arms defensively and sinking back into the plush leather of the seat.

"Things went well, I take it?" Emily asked cheerfully as she eased out into traffic.

Crystal shot her a narrow-eyed glare. "Peachy. Just peachy."

Full lips twitched against a smile, but Emily managed not to speak for several more minutes. Then she couldn't take it any longer. "So, what happened?"

Crystal sighed heavily and stared out the window. "I apologized; she accepted," she responded tersely.


Another sigh. "We come from two different worlds...completely different wants and needs," Crystal stated flatly. "A relationship would never work out."

Emily choked on an aborted laugh, getting another narrow-eyed gaze thrown at her.

"What?" Crystal finally asked as their surroundings slowly changed to the rolling hills of the suburbs.

"So when are you going to see her again?" Emily grinned.

Crystal tried. She really did. But the twinkle in her sister's eyes was too much for her and she gave in to the smile threatening to burst out on her own features. "She's calling me tomorrow after work."

"Yes!" Emily pumped her fist and yelled, somehow managing to turn into the driveway without wrecking the car. She barely waited for her laughing sister before dashing into the house.

"Michael? Michael! You got that spare ball and chain somewhere handy around here?" She was hollering loud enough to be heard down the block.

Crystal just shook her head and groaned in mock despair. Poor Stacy had no idea what she was in for.


Stacy forcibly pulled her hand away from the cool metal of the doorknob, clasping her fingers tightly together and making her shaky way back to the couch. I will not follow her; I will not follow her. She sighed and buried her head in her hands. What on earth had she been thinking? Hadn’t they already decided they were too different to form any type of relationship? There was nothing but heartbreak ahead and the small blonde knew it. Well, that and great sex, but still.

"I can’t believe I told her I’d call," she muttered aloud. "What am I, a masochist? Here," she waved her hand through the air, "take my heart and crush it. Too far away, you say? No problem, I’ll just slip it under your boot for you."

Standing up abruptly, she ranted her way into the kitchen where she grabbed a pint of ice cream out of the freezer. She propped herself against the counter and expelled a puff of air, digging her spoon viciously into the innocent carton. "She’s probably laughing at me right now," she decided, before taking a huge mouthful and swallowing quickly.

The resulting instant headache left her dancing around the kitchen with the heel of her hand pressed against her forehead, and muttering curses she didn’t realize she knew. Once the pain eased, she put the offensive treat away and began scrounging for something safer to nibble on to distract her thoughts.

Nothing worked.

Despite every effort, her thoughts continued to go back to the raven-haired beauty and the memory of those long legs wrapped around her. Full breasts pressing deliciously against her back, fingers igniting strands of fire, lips devouring her with a hunger she’d never experienced before….

Stacy choked out a sob and stumbled out of the kitchen. God, she wanted that woman so badly her teeth ached. She snatched up the remote and resolutely pressed buttons. She’d submerge herself in mindless sitcoms. That’d do the trick, she was sure.

And it did work, after a fashion; the inane programs put the blonde right to sleep. On the other hand, her dreams sent her straight into the arms of her dark lover and when she woke a few hours later, she was more frustrated than before. Stacy forced herself to eat a little something, then stumbled into the bathroom for a nice hot shower. She was just toweling off when the ringing of the phone made her jump three feet in the air.

Wrapping the thick towel tightly around her torso, she sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the cordless. "Hello?"


Green eyes blinked in shock until a small voice mentioned that Crystal wouldn’t possibly call her like this. "Emily? Is anything wrong?"

"Umm…it’s not Emily. It’s Crystal."

Stacy slid off the bed, while her mouth worked silently. Finally regaining a bit of sense, she put the receiver back on her ear. "Oh. Hi," she answered weakly. "Did you…change your mind about tomorrow?"

"No! Not at all." Crystal rolled her eyes at herself and settled more comfortably on her waterbed. "I just wanted to…you know…say good night."

Stacy felt a quick thrill of happiness run through her, then she frowned. "All right, Emily. Stop this right now. You know damned well Crystal would never call me to say good night." She paused briefly as the towel slipped. "Damn! Hold on a sec." The blonde rearranged the towel and got back up onto the bed.

"Stacy, come on. It’s me…really." The noises on the other end of the line were driving Crystal crazy. "What are you doing?" She would never have asked if she could have seen the wicked smile cross Stacy’s face, much less what the woman was wearing.

One way to prove which twin I’m talking to, Stacy decided. "I just got out of the shower," she purred softly. "My towel slipped so I had to fix it." There was an extended silence on the other end of the line. "You still there?" she asked, trying desperately not to laugh.

"T–towel?" Came the slightly breathless response. "You mean around your hair, right? Not…you know. Your hair’s in a towel."

"Nooo," Stacy drawled out. "I mean my body is wrapped in a towel. And I grabbed one of the small ones by mistake." What the heck. Might’s well do this up good, she figured.

There was an odd choking noise and when Crystal finally spoke, her voice was trembling slightly. "Let me get this straight. You’re standing there talking to me wearing nothing but a towel." Wrapped around beautiful, silky-smooth, ivory skin, she added silently, increasing her own torture.

"Close." Stacy stifled another giggle. "I’m not standing. I’m sitting on my bed." Crack. The blonde jerked the phone away and rubbed her ear. "What the heck was that?" she asked.

"Sorry. Sorry. I dropped the phone. Not a problem. I got it." A deep, quavering breath. "Maybe I should let you go so you can…ah…get dressed. For bed…I mean, sleep." Tanned fingers ran through tousled, dark hair and Crystal swore Emily had cranked the heat up in her room.


"Yes?" she answered hesitantly.

"I don’t wear clothes to bed."

"GoodnightSweetdreamsTalktoyoutomorrow!" Click.

Stacy gave in and rolled across the bed, howling with laughter. That was Crystal, all right. Nice to see it wasn’t just her libido and imagination working overtime. The blonde was still chuckling when she slipped into her flannel PJ’s and settled back for a peaceful night’s sleep.

To be continued.....

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