Sweet Surrender Ch. 01

Authors note: I plan to publish this story one short chapter at a time. This will eventually end up being a novel length story by the time I'm finished. The first five chapters have been written and should publish over the next week.

I settled in at my spot at the table beside my husband of two years. We were surrounded by a small group of friends from the neighborhood. Jenny and Marcus, our next-door neighbors, sat across from us. Next to them were Jasmine and Zach, who owned the home directly across from us. At the head of the table sat Brandon, his wife Lisa by his side. It was their turn to host our monthly dinner party.

The two seats to my right were empty, indicating our hosts expected two more guests. Our usual group was all accounted for; I was about to query Lisa about who we were missing when the sound of their doorbell chines garnered her attention.

I caught Lisa's eye as Brandon stood to answer the door. She saw the question in mine.

"I took the liberty of inviting our newest neighbor," Lisa said with a shrug. "Being on the Homeowners board, it was my job to take her a welcome basket. I will be interested to see if you all are as impressed by her as I was."

I noticed Lisa's faint, mischievous smile and smiled back at her. She'd made me curious, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction. I'd seen the moving trucks earlier in the week and was aware of the activity at the large Georgian-style home a few houses down from our own. Thus far, I'd yet to lay eyes on its new occupant.

The sound of voices from the front entryway reached us. I recognized Brandon's dulcet tones but not others - feminine, yet husky. They grabbed my attention. I turned to look over my right shoulder as the voices approached, and I suddenly felt my breath catch.

Standing next to Brandon was... well, an Amazon of a woman. There was no other way to put it. She was several inches taller than our host. That meant that even without the heels she was wearing, she was at least six feet. She had long, jet-black hair that framed a gorgeous face; her eyes were a shade that would have rivaled the finest of sapphires. Her long, regal-looking neck swooped into broad, athletic shoulders. Her breasts were small but hung perfectly over the taper of a tiny waist. Her hips were curvy, the almost gossamer material of her dress hugging her body like a thin second skin.

On her arm was a short, redheaded woman who could best be classified as cute; she had that girl-next-door look. She shifted from foot to foot nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. I could hardly believe she was getting much of it, though. I was utterly entranced by her date and had only given the shorter girl a cursory glance.

"Folks, this is our new neighbor, Alexandra Rossington, and her date, Sophie," Brandon declared. He then went around the table, announcing each of our names. I felt my cheeks flush as he said my name, and the tall, raven-haired beauty's deep blue eyes found mine. She held my gaze with clear intent, and I felt myself swoon, my heart racing like a thoroughbred horse down the backstretch of a stakes race. My nipples hardened, and a sudden throbbing heat began to build between my legs.

What the fuck is happening to me? I thought. I'm a straight woman and a married one at that. Women do not have this effect on me.

The raven-haired Amazon's lips curled in a knowing smile that seemed to declare she knew precisely what was going through my mind. More than anything, that realization caused me to divert my eyes toward the floor.

As they approached the table, I held my breath, simultaneously hoping the mesmerizing beauty would sit next to me, knowing it would be better if she did not. Alexandra held out the chair next to our hostess for her date, which sent a thrill through me. She then took the seat next to mine - the only one left. The fragrant smell of jasmine and honeysuckle - with perhaps a touch of vanilla - wafted into my nostrils, and what I desired crowed in triumph over what I feared.

God, she even smells delicious!

"More wine, honey?" came my husband's voice, abruptly reminding me that he existed and was beside me. I had literally forgotten that he was even there. That was unlike me, mainly because Steve was usually so demanding of my attention.

"Please," I replied, suddenly realizing that I might need an extra glass or two before the night was through.

"And would you like some as well, Ms. Rossington?"

Knowing I shouldn't, but unable to deny that I wanted to badly, I turned my head towards where Alexandra sat. A flutter ran through my core as I found her eyes on mine, the deep pools of azure capturing me at once in an almost hypnotic trance. I felt drawn deeper into her orbit, the rest of the room falling away and everyone else forgotten.

"What do you do for a living, Brooke?" Alexandra asked me as she sipped at her wine, her plump bottom lip imprinting on the glass.

I momentarily froze, suddenly afraid that I would not be able to speak. "I was a receptionist at a printing company for several years," I replied once I'd finally found my voice, "but the company closed its local plant, so I am unemployed right now."

"If you know anybody that could use some unskilled labor, please let us know," Steve announced, causing me to blush for an entirely different reason.

"Oh, I'm sure that Brooke has plenty of skills," Alexandra replied, cocking an eyebrow and looking at me suggestively as she bit her bottom lip.

Is she flirting with me? I wondered. And why does the possibility she is please me so much?

"Thank you," I managed to reply, the heat in my core continuing to build. I'd never been attracted to another woman - not really. Sure, I'd admired other women for their beauty and would sometimes catch myself staring. Alexandra was different. I'd never had such a visceral reaction to another human, and that included the man I'd married. "What do you do, Alexandra?"

"I'm a sexual therapist and author," she replied, her eyes never leaving mine. "I'll be running a specialized practice out of my home that focuses on multiple fronts."

"Wow, that sounds interesting," I answered.

"It is. It can be very rewarding work."

"It sounds like malarkey to me," Steven chimed in. "I've always thought talk therapy was a sham."

"Steve!" I replied, turning to glare at my husband. I was horrified by his remark, though not surprised. His often-bombastic views on a wide variety of subjects were a continuing source of embarrassment for me. I desperately hoped the withering glare I'd just graced him with would be enough to prevent him from pontificating further on the topic.

"Sorry, babe," Steve replied with a shrug. His tone told me that he was anything but remorseful. Thankfully, though, he turned his attention to the other side of the table, where a discussion of off-season baseball acquisitions was taking place.

Turning back to Alexandra, I saw her watching me with an amused smile that showed she was aware of how humiliated I was by my husband's display. I returned her smile and leaned a little closer to her so that I could speak in a muffled voice without my husband overhearing me.

"I'm so sorry for him," I said, rolling my eyes. "He has to have an opinion about everything and thinks it's his right to tell it to anyone who'll listen."

"It's okay," Alexandra said with a wink. "I find that a lot of men are threatened by what I do." She then leaned in closer to me, her lips only inches from my ear. A shiver ran down my spine in anticipation of whatever she was about to say. Beneath the cover of the table, I clenched my thighs together, trying to quell the fire in my feminine center. "That's why I prefer to spend my time almost exclusively with women - both professionally and personally. You should give it a try. You might find you enjoy yourself."

The tickle of her breath against my lobe caused the fire inside me to become an inferno. I was utterly perplexed by my reaction. There was no denying that I was attracted to her. What that meant as far as my sexuality, I forced myself to set aside for the moment. I was too busy fighting the urge to give in to the climax I could feel building in my core. The fact that Alexandra could do that to me simply by being close to me made me wonder what would happen if she touched me.

But then the thought of my husband intruded on my conscience. I'm a married woman. I can't think like this. Bolstered by guilt and obligation, I renewed my efforts to fight what I was feeling, unwilling to be undone just because a beautiful, confident, enticing woman had sat down next to me and paid me a little bit of attention.

Scanning the room, I noticed that no one appeared to be paying attention to us. Still keeping my voice low, I turned back to Alexandra and, in a low voice, said, "I'm straight."

"I didn't say you weren't," Alexandra replied with a smirk. "But sexuality is fluid. It can change over time. We can't help but be drawn to the people that we're attracted to. Sometimes all it takes for a person to have a same-sex attraction is to meet the right person."

I instantly knew she was right; my reaction to her was a case in point. Before that night, I would have scoffed if someone had made that same argument. No longer. Irrefutable proof was burning me up from the inside.

"There's also the fact I'm a married woman," I replied while holding up my left hand to show her my wedding and engagement bands.

"Of course you are. But do you find yourself sexually fulfilled within your marriage?"

My natural compulsion was to tell her that that was none of her business, but I realized that her question had indeed hit home. I knew the answer to it right away. Just two years into our marriage, I could hardly classify Steve and me as honeymooners. My husband was a little over a decade older than me and an obsessive workaholic whose idea of free time was well-spent: watching a ball game on his 90-inch flat screen or playing golf. Our sex life together consisted of regular Saturday night lovemaking sessions, and even those often left me feeling sexually frustrated. At the age of twenty-four, most of my better sexual encounters were solo sessions with the small cache of sex toys I kept hidden in a hope chest in the back of my closet.

In truth, I'd already come to the realization that I'd married Steve more for the financial security he offered rather than due to any great love or passion. We had met through friends shortly after I'd turned twenty. He'd been a burgeoning young star in financial planning, working for a large firm in Atlanta, whose prospects for advancement had seemed through the roof. Tie that with his rugged good looks, and it had been a no-brainer as to why every woman in the bar that night had been vying for his attention.

While I'd never been one to deny my own attractiveness to the opposite sex - either sincerely or coyly -I'd still been surprised when Steve had focused on me. I'd been a struggling server who'd shared a crowded walk-up apartment with three other women. I'd grown up dirt poor with a single mother who'd juggled three jobs to make ends meet. While I'd been determined not to end up in the same situation, I'd made little headway toward rectifying my financial situation. I had been studying business part-time at the local community college, but that hadn't held forth any guarantees - and going to school instead of working certainly hadn't been helping me right then.

Meeting Steve had changed all of that. We'd dated for the better part of a year before he'd popped the question. By that time, I'd already concluded that my main appeal to him was as eye candy for all the business functions he had to attend. I'd had little doubt that my husband was fond of me. He'd made that plain enough in how he'd treated me. Still, I would have hardly classified either of us as having found our great love.

At that moment, I'd weighed my options and decided I'd either be a fool or a hopeless romantic to pass up his proposal. In him, I'd had a guaranteed way out of the trailer parks and crowded apartments I'd spent my entire life in up to that point.

So, I had said yes.

Marrying Steve had immediately and undeniably swept away all of my financial concerns, and that had remained the case in the two years since... I no longer had to worry about whether I could meet my part of the rent. Paying for my next meal wasn't a concern either. Thanks to him, I could dress in designer clothes and drive a new car. We took several nice - albeit short - vacations to tropical locations every year, and we'd even gone to Europe once for two weeks. Given Steve's obsession with work, that had been a miracle.

Did I see myself as a gold digger? It may be a justification on my part, but no. Steve and I were both getting precisely what we needed from each other. While the symbiotic nature of our relationship existed around something other than a great love, I had grown quite fond of him. That I was his pretty accessory first and foremost, and he was likewise my financial rock, seemed to me to cancel each other out. It meant we could avoid back-and-forth recrimination and find common ground elsewhere. It meant we deserved each other.

To guilt and obligation, I added a reaffirmation of my and Steve's less-than-romantic - but also hardly unique - arrangement. I wasn't going to let some Amazonian bombshell undermine the marriage I'd chosen for myself with eyes wide open.

"I'm quite happy in that regard," I lied, "not that it's any of your business."

Alexandra's eyes studied me carefully, the deep pools of those beautiful blue orbs weighing my reply. After a moment of consideration, she smiled and shook her head. "I seriously doubt it."

Her response instantly flabbergasted me, but she seemed content to let it drop and sip her wine. Even though I'd lied, my hackles were raised. Alexandra knew my name, the fact that I was married, and that my husband was a bit impolitic. It was pure arrogance for her to draw any conclusions about my sex life from that, let alone air them aloud.

"You certainly are bold," I said.

"Oh, you have no idea," Alexandra replied with a laugh as she reached over and plucked a stray blonde hair from the shoulder of my dress. I flinched at her touch, light as it was. A cold chill ran down my spine as the heat between my legs simmered to a boil. "I can think of a way we can answer that question to our satisfaction."

I felt my cheeks flush again and quickly looked around the table. We were still invisible, to my relief but also to my surprise. Steve was deep into a discussion with Brandon about the fed raising interest rates the prior week and what effects it could have on the economy. The other ladies at the table were discussing fashion trends and what their favorite celebrities had been wearing at the latest awards show. That included Alexandra's date. Miffed as I was at the Amazon, I found it hard to believe that the redhead could easily ignore her.

"I already know the answer," I said. (Liar, liar pants on fire. If you're so sure of yourself, then prove her wrong.) I shifted in my seat, anxiety rapidly filling my chest. Why is she having such an effect on me? Why am I so scared to meet her challenge?

(Maybe it's because you suspect she might prove you wrong.)

I knew it wasn't a good sign that my own thoughts had split and taken sides.

"Then what's the harm in taking me up on my offer?" Alexandra asked as she looked down into my eyes, her expression challenging me as much as her words. "I promise not to make you do anything you don't want to do."

I relaxed a bit at that. Control was the entire ballgame. If Alexandra ceded it, I knew I could win simply by refusing any untoward advances she might make during whatever her 'offer' turned out to be. I couldn't deny she affected me, but I had faith in my self-discipline. I was also rather eager to put the Amazon in her place for being so arrogant and so forward.

"Okay," I said, doing my best to sound as confident as possible, "I'll be glad to prove you wrong - if we agree up front that I don't have to do anything I'm uncomfortable with."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"So, what do we do?" I asked.

Alexandra gave me a quick smile before bringing her glass to her lips. I watched as she sipped at her wine before setting it back down and facing me. I didn't know what she was about to say, but suddenly I felt very apprehensive. I thought I might be treading on dangerous ground, but I did my best to push those concerns aside.

"You will attend three therapy sessions with me staring tomorrow morning at nine."

"That's it?" I asked, feeling instantly deflated.

"That's all I'll need to prove my assertions," she declared confidently.

I studied Alexandra's aesthetically pleasing countenance for any signs of deception and found none. That left me feeling even more unsure of myself. She seemed utterly convinced she'd be able to prove her point. It didn't help that I basically already knew she was right. I wasn't playing to discover the truth. I was playing to put her in her place by propping up a lie. I suddenly realized that that was very petty, which meant that it was very risky relative to the reward. I asked myself why I would do something so stupid. The answer hit me like an anvil falling on my head.

It was because something inside me had to know precisely what she intended for me. All types of salacious thoughts were running through my head, and even if I meant to put a stop to them, I just had to know if they were true.

I could, and did, summon other justifications. They were garnish at best and more lies at worst: Alexandra would be my neighbor. I was likely to find myself constantly in her orbit. It made sense to meet the issue head-on. Steve, obsessed with his job and hardly ever home, would never know, and even if he did find out that I'd spent time alone with her, our encounter could be easily explained.

"Fine, nine o'clock it is then," I said, trying to sound much more confident than I felt.

"Good," Alexandra replied with a predatory grin. "Make sure you wear something sexy so we have you in the proper frame of mind."

"Sorry," I countered, "but that seems entirely inappropriate for a therapy session. I'm just not comfortable with that."

She shrugged. "Well, maybe you're right. Wear what you like."

If anything, her grin only widened.

Oh, God, what have I done?