In the Eyes of Love Read online

  Praise for the writing of Sheri Livingston

  In the Eyes of Love

  Sheri Livingston has crafted a powerfully moving love story between two women struggling to overcome painful pasts to fulfill the tender passion that has exploded between them. I enjoyed this book!

  — Sedonia Guillone, author of Tao of Love 1: Danny’s Dragon, coming soon from Loose Id

  In the Eyes of Love is a beautiful love story of healing hearts and learning to live with past mistakes. If you've ever had a persistent ex who needed a lesson, you'll love this inventive and humorous tale. This one goes on the keeper shelf.

  — Lena Austin, author of Sex World 2: Guardian (Loose Id)

  Ms. Livingston's story of Morgan, her self-centered ex, Dawn, and her new love Shane kept me reading, eager to find out what happened to them, and what their secrets were. Realistic, intense emotion is coupled with some of the hottest F/F sex scenes I've ever read! The prose also contains some beautiful turns of phrase.

  — Barrie Abalard, author of Hot for Teacher (coming soon from Loose Id)

  A punchy, passionate story about Morgan, a woman torn between the lover who betrayed her, and the new woman in her life. Sheri Livingston's lesbian romance is a richly written voyage into Morgan's life, with vivid characters, dialogue that leaps off the page, and beautifully written love scenes. Loved it, this was a real page turner for me, I was right there with the characters, hanging to find out what would happen next. Much enjoyed.

  — Saskia Walker, author of “The Strangeling” in Rites of Passion (Loose Id)

  IN THE EYES OF LOVE

  Sheri Livingston

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sex).

  In the Eyes of Love

  Sheri Livingston

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © June 2006 by Sheri Livingston

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-275-2

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Sherry Lynne

  Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

  Dedication

  A warm round of applause goes out to all the members of the Romantic-Writers-Critique-Club. Without your help, I’d still be twiddling my thumbs and staring at a computer screen. Thank you sooo much.

  To Angela Knight, a person I feel honored to call a friend. Thank you so much for pointing me to a group of awesome authors and having faith in my writing. And, the next time we hit the highway … I’m driving!! LOL

  To Fatima. Ha! You thought I was going to forget you, didn’t ya? Your turn!

  To my “Better Half.” Thanks for always having faith that I’d figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. And, for never complaining while I typed away at ungodly hours of the night, and my side of the bed was cold. You’re the best and I love you.

  And, to Barbara Karmazin. Your help and your encouragement pushed me further than you could ever imagine. Someone might have pointed me in your direction, but it was your wings that held tight and helped me soar in the Writing Sky. I can never thank you enough.

  Chapter One

  Rachel slammed her desk drawer. “Can’t live with ‘em … can’t live without ‘em.”

  “What are you grumbling about now?” Morgan uncurled her legs and straightened up from her usual slouch in Rachel’s visitor’s chair. The bustling sound of fingers tapping on keyboards and mingled voices filled the air beyond the office door.

  Spending time with Rachel meant less time for Morgan’s thoughts to trail to Dawn. Images of her former lover, sketched perfectly in her mind, were still vivid no matter how long a year without her seemed.

  “Steve! He makes me so mad!” Rachel slung her pen down to join an already cluttered mess on her desk. “He started in on me again last night. „Why do you have to work there?’ Why can’t you work from home so you’ll be free to travel with me?” Rachel’s long brown hair tumbled around her face bringing out the bright green of her hazel eyes. “Why can’t he just leave me alone and be happy that he has a wife who wants a career?”

  Morgan worried about Rachel now that she’d wedged herself between a rock and a hard place. The rock being Steve and his football career; the hard place being the career she’d built for herself. Neither one could be more proud of the other. Morgan prayed they’d find a happy medium somewhere in the mix. And, if anyone could do it, these two lovebirds surely could.

  “I can’t answer that one for you, babe.” Morgan twirled a lock of hair around her finger, and stared at the wall. Dawn’s brown eyes played across the screen in her mind, sending goose bumps trailing down her spine.

  “Girl! Snap out of it!” Rachel’s words jerked Morgan from her deep trance. “How come every time I mention Steve’s name, you get all goo-goo-eyed? You trippin’ over my man or what?” Rachel grinned with her joke.

  “Yes. Oooh, yes!” Morgan dragged her words out in a parody of a skanky slut. “I want your man. I want him to be all mine so I can ravish him every moment of the day.”

  “Pfft. A three-minute ravish, if you’re lucky. Wait, maybe five on his good days,” Rachel giggled.

  Morgan puckered her lips, “Hell no! I don’t want your man. The last time I checked, lesbians don’t like the real thing.”

  “Well, that takes my man out. He sure as hell has the real thing.” She dramatically licked her lips. “And God, does he knows how to use it.”

  “Don’t gross me out this early in the day.” Morgan gave her a smirk.

  “How do I keep doing that?” Rachel’s eyes rounded.

  “Do what?”

  “One second I’m mad as hell at him and then I remember something awesome about him and my temper goes right out the window.”

  Morgan gave her a sweet smile. “It’s called true love, my dear.”

  “Yes ma’am, it is.” She gave Morgan a schoolgirl smile. “But I’d like to stay mad for longer than a few hours so he could grovel for awhile.”

  Morgan felt for her. Rachel wanted nothing more than to be a successful career woman. And she was. The two of them had worked hard, grueling hours to make Strut the hottest magazine for women. There weren’t too many people out there who could say they honestly loved their job. Rachel and Morgan couldn’t wait to get to work every day just to be around each other.

  “I can’t wait ‘til tonight. I’m going to dance my ass off, drink too much, and flirt with every guy that gets within ten feet of me and don’t you dare remind me they’re all gay!” Rachel stood up and danced a little jiggle
in front of Morgan, making her loose gray slacks sway around her ankles. Her long open curls bounced around her head. She stopped mid-giggle and said, “You’re still going with us tonight, right?”

  “I’m not sure. I wanted to get some stuff done on my last article. I still have Mrs. Newhart to interview for next month on our cosmetics line and Ms. Oglesby to attempt, again, to find.” Morgan smothered a yawn with her hand, “And I’m tired of watching you and Jay fight over who gets to flirt with the guys. You know how pissed he gets when you invade his territory.” She grinned.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, like I have anything a gay man wants. What man in a gay bar is going to hit on me?” She pointed to herself, indicating tiny breasts through her pink vee-neck blouse.

  Morgan glanced aside, thinking about Jay. He liked to put on a show, pretending he was playing the field, but he and Paul made a perfect couple, living in the first-floor apartment right below hers. Those two shared their lives as partners. Jay liked to flirt to make himself feel good, but Paul didn’t mind. He knew Jay would never betray him. Why couldn’t she be as lucky?

  A vision of Dawn floated through her mind. A white sports bra laced over broad, tanned shoulders, skimming around to hug a muscular back. A perfect indention in her back ran from the bra’s edge, leading down to a tight ass.

  “There you go with that far away look again. Can’t you ever stop thinking about her? She’s not worth one second of that pretty little brain of yours. Why can’t you just get over it? It’s been a year now.” Rachel bent to lock eyes with Morgan. “Come on girl, you’ve got to get a life.”

  “I’m not thinking about her. I was just thinking about all the things I have to do this weekend.”

  “Bullshit! Your apartment is spotless. You’re just stalling so you can hide away all weekend. You can’t fool me, and do or die, you’re going with us this weekend. We have this gig all set up. Everyone’s meeting me at Joe’s at seven, so you’d better be there.” Morgan wasn’t getting out of it. She knew defeat when she saw it.

  “Fine, but I’m not staying long, and I’m not doing any of that nasty dancing you seem to thrive on.” Morgan shot Rachel an obscene glare, crossed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out at her through the corner of her mouth. “You and Jay can rule the dance floor, and I’ll hang out with Steve.”

  “Don’t cross those pretty blue eyes at me, and oh, yes, you are, because after I get a few drinks down your throat, you’ll be dancing on the table.” Rachel shook her finger at Morgan.

  “Yes, mother!”

  “Good! Now get back to work. Can’t you see I’m busy? Damn, can’t a girl get anything done around here without listening to all of your problems?” She grinned and winked.

  “Smart ass!” Morgan climbed out of the chair, grinned and headed out of Rachel’s office, passing the maze of white cubicles as she went. She recalled sitting behind one of those tight fitting walls, only large enough for a desk, two chairs, and a tropical palm tucked in the corner. After climbing the ladder of success, she was finally able to kiss that tiny space goodbye.

  Back in her office, she plopped down in the leather chair and folded her arms over her chest, staring out the large windows. Memories of Dawn’s gorgeous face flooded her vision until the jarring sound of the phone ringing swiped the feel of precious lips from her mind.

  “Hello. Morgan Rhinehart, lead journalist,” Morgan said in her business voice.

  “Hi, babe.” Jay’s raspy voice came through the line.

  “Hi there,” she mocked him in her normal voice, “What are you up to? Get any tattoos today?” The long-time joke between them would never lose its humor.

  He begged for a tattoo on his thirty-second birthday, and Morgan had obliged by taking him to a highly recommended tattoo parlor. He’d been brave until he faced the needles and surgical gloves. At the first sight of blood, the birthday boy had passed out cold.

  “No, you bitch. Are you ever going to let me forget that? … Nah, I wouldn’t let you live it down either.” His girlish cackle filled her eardrums. “We still on for tonight?”

  “Yes. You know Rachel isn’t going to let me beg off. She’ll drag me kicking and screaming all the way to the dance floor if she has to.”

  “Well, it’s for your own good. You need to put that bitch out of your mind because she ain’t worth it. I wished curses on her, you know? Yep. Curses! I wished for her to wake up one morning with lice in her hair and, you know, I am sort of psychic like that, and one day all of my wishes will come true.”

  Morgan laughed. “Now who’re you calling mean? Lice? Can’t think of anything better than that? Maybe like, crossed-eyes, a witch’s nose, a hump-back, you know, something that will make her look less appealing to every woman in Atlanta?”

  “Oooh. I likey, I likey. I’ll see what I can do. We’ll just give her a complete make-over.” She envisioned his hip poking out to the side and his feminine-like hand coming to rest there.

  “So are you still going with us? Or is that a stupid question?” Morgan blurted, wanting to change the topic from sex, which of course she wasn’t getting at the moment.

  “Of course I’m going. Do you think I would miss out on a thing like that?” he asked.

  “What’s so exciting about Rachel dancing with all the guys that you can’t touch because you have a hot man yourself, then me drinking myself under a table and having to be toted home all alone to a cold, empty bed? That sure sounds like something you just can’t miss.” Morgan laughed without humor, saddened to know that might happen.

  “Oh, honey. I think you have it ass backwards. Those men are all jealous because I’m the one taken. They all want me and I know it. I just know it! As for you getting drunk, well, I know how to undress you and stick you in the bed. Been there done that so many times I can’t even count. Just think, one day you’re gonna walk in there and the love of your life could be standing on the other side of the room with open arms. Morgan! Gotta go.” The connection was gone.

  Yeah right. The love of her life was a heartbreaker. The love of her life was someone who sent her heart through a paper shredder then laughed as it bled out the other side. But so far, the love of her life was the only love of her life.

  The image of Dawn crept back into her mind. Sexy brown eyes looked adoringly into Morgan’s, while her hands wrapped around Morgan’s waist. Morgan’s lips pressed against those of her lover, while roaming hands slid down the small of her back to cup her butt and pull her tighter into her.

  She pushed away from her desk and headed to the filing cabinet tucked in the corner of her office. She thumbed through the colored tabs until she found the one labeled “Shamrock Gallery” and headed back to her chair.

  She dialed Shamrock’s number. The answering machine clicked on at the other end of the line. Once again, she would be leaving a voicemail. Aggravation seeped into Morgan. She prayed it wouldn’t be apparent in her message.

  “Ms. Oglesby, this is Morgan Rhinehart. Our deadline is creeping up fast on your article. If we don’t get a contract signed by you and in my hand by Friday, I’ll have no other choice but to push it to next month. I hope I haven’t said or done something to offend you and cause you to stop talking with us about this. If I have, I apologize. Please return my call at your earliest convenience.”

  Morgan slammed down the phone.

  John, another co-worker, with coke-bottle glasses and a freckled face, stuck his head around the doorjamb.

  “Want to come eat with us?” He slicked his red thinning hair down above his large ears.

  “Sure. I’m starving.”

  Half an hour later John, Rachel, and Morgan sat in a red shiny booth of the sixties café called Maggie’s. Tunes from an Elvis song seeped from the Jukebox while chatter from customers filled the air. Their food was delivered as the three of them talked about contracts and deadlines.

  “Rachel, I tried to call Ms. Oglesby but got her machine again. What the hell did I do to her?” Morgan asked, knowing R
achel was just as confused over why their mystery lady wouldn’t return their calls.

  “I have no idea. We’ll just use the new make-up line from Sisco. It’s not what Sandra wanted, but we don’t have a choice if the woman’s not going to call us back.” She placed a piece of crisp lettuce between her lips.

  Sandra was the owner of Strut. She was a daring woman with dark eyes and flaming red hair that hung down to the middle of her back. She’d founded the magazine in 1995, and by 1997 it had become America’s number-one seller. She was also a very lenient boss until rubbed the wrong way, this being one of those times.

  “I guess you’re right. It bugs me, that flip of the coin she did on us.” Morgan said then took a bite of her hamburger.

  They finished their lunch and returned to their building.

  Once back in her office, Morgan checked her messages. There were none and that irked her. The rest of the day slogged by as she double-checked the articles that would soon appear on Strut’s slick pages.

  At five o’clock, Morgan cleared her desk, tucked the files back into their drawers, and wandered down the gray-carpeted halls, passing a row of tropical plants between the office doors.

  “You gonna stay here all night?” Morgan poked her head into Rachel’s office to find Rachel rummaging through papers. “Steve will have the cops out looking for you within the hour if you don’t hurry up.”

  “Yeah yeah. Hold your horses.” Her friend’s face beamed as a bright smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’m sealing the deal on our art page, Ms. Thing.”

  “Oh, my God!” Morgan rushed into the room, a giddy feeling gripping her gut. “Are you kidding?”

  “No. I don’t know what you said when you called her earlier, but I finally heard from Ms. Oglesby. She’s not dropping by to sign the contracts, so I’m driving over to the gallery. Sandra is beside herself. You know how she is at being first in line.” Rachel’s pretty face beamed as she stuffed papers into her briefcase.