“Tierney!” Mike exclaimed when she saw them. “How are you doing? And how are you, Giselle? What a week you’ve had. Vivian and I could hardly believe what happened just after Tierney and I saw each other with the dogs.”
“Tell me how she looks,” Vivian said and took Mike’s arm.
“Tierney looks fine, just a few, barely visible bruises,” Mike said reassuringly. “Tierney,” Mike said, and motioned behind her and Vivian. Two other women hung their coats in the small closet. “I know you recognize these two, but this is Manon Belmont. She plays the keyboard.” She pointed to an elegant woman with chocolate-brown hair in a low, full bun. “And that’s Eryn Goddard, our illustrious journalist and guitarist. Prefers electric guitars.” Eryn was slightly taller than Manon, her red hair a darker, more coppery tone than Tierney’s own.
“A fellow redhead,” Eryn said merrily and strode up to Tierney, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m sorry if I’m too forward, but after talking with Mike, I feel I know you somewhat.”
“No problem.” Tierney murmured, feeling a little shell-shocked.
“Nice to meet you, Tierney.” Manon extended a hand but also kissed Tierney’s cheek. “And where’s the young lady I helped liberate from the Brodys?”
“Here, ma’am.” A shy voice from the kitchen revealed Stephanie’s presence. Her eyes were huge and stayed glued to the celebrities. She took a few, slow steps toward Manon. “My name’s Stephanie. Thank you for helping me catch a break from the system.”
“Oh, sweetheart, that was the least I could do. I’ve dedicated a sizable portion of my life to helping young people.” Manon placed her arm around Stephanie’s shoulders. “I think I hear the second car.”
Giselle walked over to the front door and opened it. “Yes. Here they are.” She gazed back at Stephanie. “You may have to hold onto something, Stephanie.”
“What? I mean, why?”
“Welcome,” Giselle said, and motioned for two more women to step inside.
Tierney stared, but that was nothing compared to Stephanie’s response. The young girl gave a muted whimper, and then her knees gave in. “Noelle Laurent?” she whispered.
“That’s right,” Manon said, and held Stephanie tighter. “Don’t forget to breathe.”
“Oh, God,” the other woman who’d just joined them said, snorting. “I think you’ve done it again, darling.” She motioned for Noelle to look over at Stephanie.
“Whoops.” Noelle grinned, but not without kindness. The world-famous pop star took a few long strides toward Stephanie. “Hey, no fainting. I hear you’re a genuine fan.” She winked and tossed her long white-and-black hair back over her shoulder.
“I am,” Stephanie said, tears clinging to her eyelashes. “I know all your songs by heart. I used to have a poster of you above my bed, but someone painted all over it with Sharpies.”
“I see. Not a nice thing to do, but we can get you a new one if you like. Perhaps one with you and me together? What do you think, Helena?” Noelle asked her wife.
“Not a problem,” Helena Forsythe, media mogul and well-known business tycoon, said. “In fact, we have a lot to offer young women like you, if you’re interested.”
Tierney’s chest constricted when she saw how Stephanie covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Noelle merely smiled and kissed Stephanie’s cheek.
“Helena and I agree that it’s important to provide young people with the resources they need to make it in the entertainment business, if that’s what they dream about. We wouldn’t mind a test pilot for the start of our joint foundation.” Noelle winked at Steph, whose shocked expression was memorable.
After the final introductions were made, it was Tierney’s turn to be on the receiving end of Noelle’s total attention. “I hear you’re the lyrics guru around here.” She hooked her arm around Tierney’s. “And I also heard about your ordeal earlier this week. I’m glad you came out on top, so to speak.” She squeezed Tierney’s arm gently. “And now you have to sing all the lyrics to date for me. If I’m going to make the best of them, together with Vivian, I want to hear what the lyricist had in mind. Someone like you could easily be considered for our foundation as well. Rich kids have their parents’ resources, but we think people from all walks of life and all socioeconomic backgrounds deserve a fair shot as well.”
Tierney couldn’t speak for the next few moments. The idea of Noelle seeming so impressed with her lyrics, which she herself thought might be amateurish, and talking about something that sounded like a grant made the floor move beneath her feet.
“Yikes. Please tell me you won’t faint. I really have to work on my approach.” Noelle made a funny face. “You must be used to people adoring your texts by now.”
“Not really,” Tierney managed to say. “I’ve never shown them to anyone except Giselle. Her music is what brought the new ones out. She’s the talented one, as I’m sure you know.”
“Giselle is a genius, but she doesn’t take to writing lyrics.” Noelle blew Giselle a kiss. “The two of you seem to be a match made in heaven, if you ask me.”
“Geez, Noelle. Now you’ve made them both crimson,” Mike said, chuckling. “Why don’t we sit down somewhere in case someone else has a response like they have?”
“Good idea.” Eryn pulled a Roland keyboard from its casing. “Can I plug this in the usual socket in the music room, Giselle?”
“Absolutely.” She put her arm around Tierney as they walked to the music room.
Looking back, Tierney saw Stephanie still back in the foyer, looking forlorn. She nudged Giselle and motioned at the uncertain girl with her head.
“Stephanie?” Giselle said. “Why don’t you pour us some juice and water and then join us? You may have to bring one more chair for yourself, okay?”
Brightening, Stephanie did her usual thumbs-up. She hurried toward the kitchen, and soon Tierney heard the clinking of glasses and the fridge being opened.
“Thanks,” Tierney whispered to Giselle, quickly raising her hand to her lips and kissing it.
“We can’t have her sit all alone when the rest of us are diving headlong into the music. That’d be cruel.”
“If you only knew how many people Steph and I’ve met who just don’t give a damn about what we want or how we feel.”
“I guess I don’t, but knowing you and Stephanie, I can understand how devastating that would be.” Giselle pushed some wild tresses from Tierney’s face.
“Not all were that bad, but a few were, and it leaves a mark.”
“Yes.” Giselle moved toward the music room. “It does.”
* * *
Later in the evening, after they had worked diligently at the songs Chicory Ariose and Noelle liked the most, they all sat down to dinner. Noelle couldn’t stop gushing over Tierney’s voice and her way with words. Giselle enjoyed witnessing Tierney blush because of all the praise. She doubted Tierney had been on the receiving end of such comments before, but she certainly deserved them.
After their dinner, they retired to the living-room area with their wineglasses, except Eryn, who’d settled for mineral water. This wasn’t normally the case, but Eryn was most likely the designated driver back to East Quay.
“Mineral water?” Mike now said, clearly noticing the same thing regarding Eryn’s choice of beverage.
“Well. Yes.” Eryn smiled at Manon, looking flustered and happy. “Now?”
“Why not?” Manon scooted closer on the couch.
“We’re pregnant.” Eryn placed a hand protectively on her stomach.
The silence was short and infused with all kinds of emotions. Giselle could see how this announcement affected her friends, and Manon had to wipe away some errant tears.
“When?” Mike asked.
“I’m in the beginning of week eighteen.” Eryn beamed.
“Yet you’re so slender,” Manon said. “Just a little rounder around your belly.”
“Do you know what gender yet?” Vivian asked. “Or do you want to be surprised?”
Manon and Eryn exchanged glances, and Giselle could tell they knew.
“It’s a boy, and he already has a name. Jack Belmont Goddard. Jack, after Manon’s brother.” Eryn smiled broadly. “We’re so happy.”
“And now we’re happy too!” Vivian raised her glass. “Congratulations, Eryn, Manon. When do I start campaigning for god-motherhood?”
Eryn and Manon started laughing. “Now, that will be a surprise! You have to wait and see, Vivian.”
“Ah, you’re so cruel.” Laughing in her vivacious, typical way, Vivian squeezed Mike’s hand.
Later, the visitors who lived in East Quay drove off, promising to be back early the next day for one more session in the music room. Helena and Noelle withdrew to the guesthouse. Giselle watched Tierney and Stephanie go outside to exercise Charley, who had been on her own most of the day.
After walking into the bathroom, Giselle drew a bath, her back aching from sitting at the piano most of the day. Normally she took lots of micro breaks, but today had been about showing off their material for their clients and friends. Stretching, she moaned and then climbed into the oval bathtub. She hadn’t had to do much else to the house when she moved in, but she had had the kitchen, mudroom, and bathrooms gutted and redone completely.
Sinking just below the thick, smooth layer of bath bubbles, Giselle closed her eyes. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, and every cell in her body seemed to relax at once. The women had been so impressed and thrilled about her music, especially most of Tierney’s lyrics. Not having to involve an external lyricist seemed to suit them. And it had warmed Giselle when she saw how Tierney was tossed between being excited and embarrassed. She obviously wasn’t used to abundant praise, and when it came from such successful artists, it had to be overwhelming. Giselle had never seen the rather aloof and always business-centered Helena warm up so quickly to virtual strangers, which was what Tierney and Stephanie essentially were.
“Eh? Giselle?” Tierney said from the bedroom. “I—shall I, I mean, do you, eh, would you rather I sleep in the guest room?”
Giselle sat up, soapy water streaming down her breasts. “What? Why do you ask?” She thought fast. Why this question again? Then she realized. “You mean, because of Helena and Noelle?”
“Yeah.”
“Only if you’re uncomfortable. I—” She meant to say she wanted Tierney next to her, but if that wasn’t what Tierney truly wanted, it might create an awkwardness detrimental to their relationship, both professional and personal. Still, she couldn’t let Tierney think she didn’t care either way. “I really like for you to share my bed.” There. Ambiguous enough but still not too casual. She hoped.
“All right.” Tierney sounded relieved, unless Giselle read too much into her words. “I’ll use the bathroom there again.”
“Good.” Giselle sank back into her previous position in the bath, with bubbles all the way to her chin. She remained there for another fifteen minutes, but when her skin began to wrinkle severely, she stood and rinsed off the suds. Letting the self-cleaning bathtub do its thing, she brushed her teeth and put on her aqua nightgown. The satin caressed her skin, and she placed her robe loosely around her shoulders.
The bedroom was almost dark, with only the night light and the lamp on her side of the bed still on. Tierney was already in bed, curled up on her side. As Giselle climbed into bed, she could smell the shower oil on Tierney’s skin and the fresh scent of her long hair.
“You smell good,” Giselle said, not giving herself time to self-edit.
“You should know. They’re your shower products.” Tierney pulled the duvet closer. “Wow. It’s been a long day.”
“It certainly has. Do you need any help with your bandages? You haven’t said anything.”
“I’m bandage-free as of today.” Peering up at Giselle, Tierney grinned. “Can you take a look at that bruise I had on the small of my back? It feels better, but still.”
“Sure.” Switching on the lamp again, Giselle watched Tierney pull the duvet down and tug at her old T-shirt. “Turn around,” Giselle said, short of breath. Tierney’s skin was so smooth it gleamed in the light from the lamp. At the small of Tierney’s back, Giselle could see a bruise that was now in its yellow-green stage. “You’re quite colorful. Does it hurt when I touch it?” Giselle pressed gently with her fingertips.
“Ah. A little bit, but not at all as bad as those first two days.” Tierney pivoted so fast, Giselle’s fingertips ended up below her bellybutton. “Oh.”
Staring down at Tierney, Giselle blinked slowly. “Yes. Oh, indeed.”
“Maybe, um, we should go to sleep?”
“Probably,” Giselle said, but her body suggested that she explore more of Tierney’s body under her deplorable T-shirt.
“Or?”
“Or I can make sure you’re not black or blue anywhere else?” Groaning at her cheesy line, Giselle wanted to take it back. To her surprise, Tierney began to tremble.
“Giselle…” Tierney spoke with husky breathlessness.
“Angel…” Giselle pulled Tierney close. “Tell me if this isn’t what you want. I don’t seem to be able to keep my eyes, or hands, off you. I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I still feel like I’ve wanted you for ages.” Giselle knew her actions were way out of character, but she had to taste Tierney, touch her, and give her pleasure, if she allowed it.
“Damn. You’re so beautiful. So fucking hot. I wouldn’t be able to resist you if I tried.” Arching, Tierney wrapped her arms around Giselle’s neck. “I want you so much. And I have, almost since that first time I saw you.”
Giselle felt Tierney push the spaghetti straps of her nightgown down. Not feeling as vulnerable as she’d feared when fantasizing about this moment, Giselle moaned out loud. Tierney caressed her upper chest, letting her thumbs follow the gentle curve of her breasts above the nightgown.
“May I take your T-shirt off?” Giselle murmured as she played with the hem of the threadbare garment. “Hmm?”
“Let me.” With quick fingers, Tierney pulled off the T-shirt and was now naked from the waist up. She wore sleep boxers, and Giselle couldn’t wait to remove them. It had been so long since she’d been this close to anyone, and even then, her desire had never flooded her system like this. It was like someone had poured champagne into her bloodstream and it had gone directly between her legs. Moving restlessly, Giselle needed anchoring. She pressed her lips against Tierney’s and slipped her tongue into her mouth, not asking for permission, but also with all the tenderness she could muster.
Tierney held her closer, raising one leg up along Giselle’s thigh, wrapping it around her hip. Now they were as close as it was possible without removing their last pieces of clothing. Giselle’s hands moved as of their own volition and found Tierney’s firm, small breasts. She cupped them, rolled them, and eventually pinched the diamond-hard nipples
Finally, not satisfied with just using her hands, she bent and took the closest one in her mouth. Licking it fiercely, she let go of it, nuzzled it, blew a stream of cool air on it, and quit only when Tierney growled in exasperation and shoved her fingers into Giselle’s hair.
“Don’t tease,” Tierney said, hissing the last word as Giselle bit the dark-red nipple lightly.
Glad the lamp was still switched on, Giselle furtively glanced at every hill and valley that made up Tierney’s body. Yes, she was slender, too slender, after not having enough to eat sometimes, but she was also curvaceous where it mattered. Especially the seductive curve of her hips turned Giselle on even more.
“I want to taste you everywhere.” Giselle tugged at the elastic band at the top of Tierney’s boxers. “May I?”
“Yes. Off.” Raising her hips, Tierney wriggled as Giselle removed the last piece of her clothing.
“Your turn?” Half sitting, Tierney pulled up the nightgown from below and pushed it down from above, efficiently creating a satin band around her waist. “Oh, God. You’re stunning. So sexy I’m going to self-combust. I need to touch you. Devour you.” Tierney pushed Giselle onto her back.
* * *
Tierney looked greedily at the blond, sparse tuft of hair between Giselle’s thighs. After she pushed the silken legs apart, she nuzzled the warm, damp folds. Allowing her tongue access, she licked along the wet, seeping opening between Giselle’s labia. Then she parted the folds with her fingers, flattened her tongue, and massaged the entire area. Not wanting this to end too soon, she kissed a trail up to the slightly fuller breasts, and mimicking Giselle’s technique, she showed the hard nipples all the attention Giselle had done to hers. It seemed like a good plan, since Giselle buried her heels into the mattress and arched beneath her.
“You’re making me…I mean…so close…” Trembling, but not in that pre-panic-attack way, Giselle held Tierney’s head gently between her hands. “Your hand.”
“How? Show me?” Tierney looked up at Giselle. “Show me how you like it.”
“Like this.” Giselle let go of Tierney’s head, and holding her right hand, she maneuvered it in the way she clearly wanted it to be. Tierney entered Giselle with two fingers and circled her clit with her thumb. After half a minute of this, Tierney bent and took the clit between her lips again. Licking it fiercely, she insistently nudged Giselle toward her orgasm. When slight flutters began against Tierney’s fingertips, she curled her fingers up and locked her lips around Giselle’s clit, flicking the tip of her tongue against the hard ridge of nerves, over and over.
Crying out, Giselle then whimpered, over and over, as the convulsions traveled through her system. “Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. Damn.” Giselle clung to Tierney and pulled her up. “Tierney, my angel. I can never get enough of you. I can’t.” She buried her face in Tierney’s hair. “Soon. Your turn soon.” She was still out of breath but still strong as she tugged Tierney onto her shoulder. “Now, angel, what would you like me to do?”