Read Outing of the Heart Online

Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

Outing of the Heart (92 page)

From across the room a tall, overly thin woman was taking special note. She hadn't seen Ten arrive, but now her eyes were glued to her, watching her sit at ease in the big chair, not talking, but obviously interested in all that was going on. She had been struck by the radiance of this beauty. She found her dark somewhat sultry looks with large, flashing eyes quite an irresistible combination. She knew she was perving on her body too. That clinging black dress allowed her imagination to run riot over what lay beneath. Her eyes narrowed. No one seemed to be hanging about. This interesting newcomer it appeared, was on her own then. She began to make her way, slowly.
Drinks were flowing freely, the volume level steadily rising. Someone had changed the music to a disco beat … M.C. SAR & The Real McCoy had just finished their U.S. Airplay Hot Mix of ANOTHER NIGHT and now they were onto the Club Attack Mix of RUN AWAY. A few couples had made some space for themselves where they stood and were beginning to dance, gyrating to the hypnotic beat in a way that gave Ten pleasure just to watch. One day she'd dance again, but the wait seemed awfully long. She gave a deep sigh.
‘That sounded very sad on a happy occasion,' a voice commented behind her. She jumped in surprise, turning around to see a well dressed, rather plain woman, bending over the back of her chair.
‘Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,' she apologized in a warm, soft voice. ‘I was watching the dancers too, then heard you sigh.' She held out her hand. ‘My name's Lyndall.' Ten had to twist awkwardly to shake.
‘Tenille,' she said and added: ‘Not a drama.' She returned to her scrutiny of the dancers, not knowing what to say next.
‘Are you a friend of the guest of honor here or a friend of a friend, so to speak,' Lyndall enquired, trying to make conversation.
‘Oh, a friend of Sidonie's,' she replied: ‘And of Thea and Reine's too.' Just then Thea returned to view, making her way towards them in a flurry.
‘Oh good. You've met. Lyndall is one of our counsellors at the centre I was telling you about. I was planning to introduce you, but I see there's no need.'
Lyndall's eyes were now even keener in her appraisal. ‘Are you interested in counselling?'
‘No, not that part of it.' She smiled at the very idea. ‘But I would like to do something useful and Thea told me of an opening as a receptionist. I've never done that type of work but, if shown, I think I could manage. It all depends on what the centre is looking for,' she finished a little hesitantly.
‘Mm..m. I think someone just like you,' Lyndall supplied, feeling more and more pleased with this turn of events, never taking her eyes from the captivating face in front of her. ‘It's a committee decision of course, like everything these days, but I can tell you, people haven't been beating a path to our door.' By now she had come round to the front of the chair and standing before her could really appreciate the exciting swell of her breasts and the slim hips, as she looked down.
‘Tenille has a background in nursing, although she's not doing that at the moment,' Thea clarified. Ten held up the offending cast.
‘Laid up and on canes,' she laughed hollowly. ‘That's why you heard me sighing just now.'
‘Oh, I see. But this state won't last for ever and then it'll seem like it happened to someone else.' Lyndall smiled encouragingly down at her. Ten believed Lyndall's clients would like her a lot. A positive and sure attitude emanated from this woman.
‘Can you tell something of what the job would entail, Lyndall?' she asked. Before she could answer Thea interjected. ‘I can see you're in good company Tenille, so I'll go attend to the party trays. Now that you're here I want them to start circulating.' With this she bustled off on her important business, leaving Lyndall wondering what all that meant. She settled down to some serious talk with this engaging stranger.
Some time later, Sid came upon the two of them, heads close together. It was as though she had been stabbed. Was this jealousy? “
Don't be silly,”
she chided herself. They pulled to an abrupt stop, Sid, arm in arm with a large, solidly built woman whom she introduced as Milka. She had been trying to get over to this side of the room for some time, although wouldn't have believed just how long it would take. It was important to her that Milka and Ten meet. A quizzical look at Lyndall made Ten hasten to make the introductions.
‘We just met,' she added diffidently, feeling the need for some reason, to explain the situation, although this must have been perfectly obvious. Sid's manner was making her feel recreant. Left on her own for so long, now she was back, but something was different. Was she being oversensitive? Sid only nodded in Lyndall's direction then quickly turned back to Ten.
‘There's nibblies out there,' she pointed her head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘You want I bring you a selection on a plate, Babe?' Her proprietary tone and use of the endearment gave the clear message of her interest in this intriguing woman. Ten declined the offer, but felt better about Sid.
Lyndall made an excuse to take off.
“I'll leave the field to her,”
she thought,
“for now. She's much too young for a mature woman. I'll get to her on the volunteer staff at the centre. There will be lots of time there to get to know her. I
'm
not going to let this one get away.”
She turned back for another good look. Her eyes had not deceived her. This woman was ravishing. One thing for certain, once seen she would not be easily forgotten. Not only did she have looks; her beguiling face showed a delightful play of emotions, every nuance of mood change. She liked that. But those eyes. They were worth all the rest. On their own they would have turned a plain woman into a beauty and certainly Tenille could not be called plain. Her skin was delicately translucent. When she had lifted her head she wasn't just compelling, she was exquisite.
Lyndall hadn't felt this worked up over a woman in a long time. Possibly getting too old, losing her drive? Obviously the right one hadn't come along. This made Tenille doubly special. She vowed, there and then, to do all she could in her power, to bring her over to her side. She reckoned that a young, callow butch wouldn't be too much competition. What she lacked in looks herself, could more than be made up for in experience. She'd been around; knew how to get what she wanted. Her problem of late had been she'd not seen anything to get her pulse racing … 'til now. “
What a break. Thea, I could kiss you.

Milka was warming to Ten and just about to launch into how far back she and Sid went, when someone else came up to them and insisted on taking Sid away. ‘She's in good hands,' Milka assured her and Sid believed it so.
The party was taking off like a bubbling pot. It was wall to wall women and good times flowed. Someone had brought along their Madonna collection so all the women who could, squeezed into the dance space for VOGUE, for old time's sake. At this point Edina came up to Milka to persuade her she really could shake it one more time.
Ten was left once again, to soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the evening for Sid's sake. What a birthday they were giving her. She expected to see her up dancing. They couldn't dance together, but there would be sure to be others who would like to partner her.
‘All alone, but not feeling blue I hope.' Trent appeared before her; glass of red wine in hand.
‘This is for you,' handing over the drink with a broad smile. She was looking very handsome all in white, the collar of her crisp cotton shirt turned up, the buttons undone far enough to reveal an expanse of perfectly tanned flesh, drawing the eye down to a deep cleavage.
Surprised and pleased Ten accepted the wine asking: ‘How did you know what I like to drink?'
‘No, I'm not prescient,' Trent laughed openly into her face. ‘I just checked with Thea. How are you Tenille?' Her voice changed to one of warm concern.
Staying standing in front of Ten blocking her view, Trent effectively forced her to concentrate all her attention on herself. Her hair, thick and tawny, with shades of auburn and red, was cut very short in an expensive Sassoon style, suiting her wide forehead and high cheekbones. Age had given a certain gauntness to the face, but this only served to enhance her attractiveness. There was no mistaking the strength of her character. Not someone to be taken lightly. She watched; the slant of the cool hazel eyes, flecked with gold highlights, the slow curl of the sensual smile; the gentle rise and fall of the breasts, her undeniable magnetism.
‘Oh, not so bad Trent. Feeling a bit frustrated though.' Ten's eyes darkened as she sighed. ‘I'm stuck here with this cast, unable to move, whilst all around me women are enjoying dancing to the music.'
Trent laughed again. ‘I can fix that. Wait, I have to find a chair.' She put her drink on the end table then turned on her heel and was gone. Ten was both mystified and captivated. “
What could she be up to?”
The woman quickly returned, having managed to obtain a folding chair from the balcony and set herself down so they were face to face.
‘Place one knee here, between mine,' she moved Ten's leg with the cast with both her hands. ‘The other, just to the outside, there. Good. Now, give me your glass.' She put it beside her own on the table. By now the music had changed and Rene Geyer was singing, CLOSE.
‘This one's a good one,' Trent was looking pleased. She held up both hands, palms up and out towards Ten. ‘Place your hands against mine. Palm and fingers flat.' She did as she was bid, almost under a spell.
‘Press against my hands,' Trent continued to instruct: ‘And close your eyes.' She did all this without demur, but even more intrigued.
‘Now just let your arms and shoulders relax and follow my lead.'
She could feel the warmth from Trent's hands and the steady pressure from her palms. Slowly, in time to the music, Trent moved their hands up and down, sideways and around. Listening to the words of the song and letting the rhythm of the music flow through her from Trent's lead, Ten found very seductive. She couldn't help feeling a thrill of excitement flutter through her as her body was overtaken by the music … and Trent's proximity. Now she was leading her into forward and backward sways of their arms: first one then the other. Suddenly she was aware of being drawn in, closer and closer to Trent's body, experiencing a beautiful waft of her perfume as their bodies almost touched, then moved away.
“It's like leaning forward for a kiss,”
she thought, her pulses racing. No dance had ever been like this. She loved it, never wanted it to stop. What this woman could do.
Trent was feeling the heat build up in Ten.
“You little Beauty,”
she thought.
“My, what a good time I could give you, and myself, for that matter.”
The music came to an end; she brought their hands back to the centre and gave Ten's a little squeeze before releasing them.
Opening their eyes, they looked at each other without speaking. She could see Trent was quite as affected as she and became flustered, coloring up delightfully. To break the spell Trent laughed and, handing over her drink asked rhetorically: ‘Who needs a dance floor?' She couldn't speak; had momentarily lost control over her vocal cords, so instead took a sip from her glass. Trent stood and collected the chair. ‘I'll return this to its rightful place. Thanks for the dance.' She stood over her enjoying the sight of the heightened color in the decolletage. “
Sid shouldn't leave this one unattended,”
she mused to herself:
“You never know who may happen along.”
At last Ten found her voice. ‘Tha … thank you,' she managed to stammer, looking up into Trent's face: ‘ … I enjoyed it.'
‘Oh, the pleasure was all mine,' she assured her gallantly, the gleam in her hazel eyes penetrating into Ten with an intensity she found unsettling. Then, like a hologram, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
The tempo of the music had picked up again resulting in everyone letting off steam to East 17's Overworld Storm Mix of LET IT RAIN. The high energy of the music helped Ten regain her composure. Trent had left a strong impression; one not easy to cast aside.
Shortly thereafter, Reine appeared with a tray of hot, stuffed mushrooms, skewered through to hold the narrow bacon strip in place. She held a stack of napkins in her other hand. ‘How're you doing, Tenille? Must take care of our other guest of honor. Fancy one of these?' She held out the plate.
‘Thank you.' She accepted the offering although didn't really feel like eating. ‘Have you seen Sid, Reine? The room seems to have gobbled her up,' she complained, an anxious expression crossing her face. Reine picked up on this and thought:
“Poor kid. This must all be a bit overwhelming to her.”
‘I'll keep my eyes open while I'm circulating. She won't like to know you're feeling left out.'
‘Oh, I'm all right, Reine,' she hastened to disavow her of the thought she was pining. She was a little, but more because Trent had gotten her so mixed up. She needed to feel the reassurance of Sid's presence; get herself centred once more in the secure and familiar.
At that moment a gap opened up in the crush of bodies around her and she and Reine were able to see off to one side of the dance area. They witnessed Sid being dragged onto the floor by a young woman looking the epitome of lesbian chic. Short hair, cut in the form of a skullcap, straight across the front in severe bangs. She wore a low-waisted, long black dress and lightweight black boots, thick white socks in evidence above the leather. The line of the dress revealed her as slightly plump. Her make-up gave a fashionable pallor to her face, the lips being painted a rich blood red, outlined in dark purple. Ten could see Sid's reluctance, but the other girl was not taking no for an answer. The music changed to EVERLASTING LOVE, sung by Gloria Estefan, just the right beat for a medium lesbian Two-Step, and quickly they were hidden from view by the other couples. Ten's last impression of the scene was of the two girls, closely pressed together, locked in each other's arms, as were all the other women. There wasn't much movement on the floor now; everyone lost in the intimacy of the dance. She would have enjoyed the sight, ordinarily, but this time felt uneasy. She turned her head sharply towards Reine, a troubled look in her eyes.

Other books

Swansea Girls by Catrin Collier
The Eyes of Kid Midas by Neal Shusterman
SHUDDERVILLE THREE by Zabrisky, Mia
The Lodger: A Novel by Louisa Treger
Trigger by Carol Jean