Sum of the Whole

by Brenda Murphy

Sum of the Whole - Brenda Murphy
Editions:Paperback: $ 8.99
Pages: 162
Kindle: $ 4.99ePub: $ 4.99

Jaya Pomroy falls desperately in love with Sarah while vacationing at an exclusive BDSM pleasure house. Unwilling to become Jaya’s possession, yearning for independence, Sarah refuses to leave with her and they part after a bitter fight.
Six years later they meet again. Fighting to leave her past behind, but unable to resist her attraction for Jaya, Sarah agrees to try again. Jaya has to cope with new rules and new roles. When a former client threatens to expose Sarah, Jaya risks everything to protect her.
Can their love survive in the real world filled with vengeful ex-lovers and deadly secrets?

F/F, age difference, BDSM, D/S

 

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Excerpt:

Sarah’s footsteps on the hardwood warned Jaya of her approach. She stopped and covered her work with a blank sheet of paper. She hurried from her studio and closed the door behind her. Bumping into Sarah in the hall, she caught her arm to keeping her from falling. Sarah spun around and threw her arms around Jaya’s neck.

“I thought you had left me here to wander by myself.” She kissed Jaya’s cheek.

“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” She moved them away from her studio door. Sarah resisted.

“What’s behind the secret door you don’t want to show me? Another woman? Your secret torture chamber?”

“Nothing.” Jaya fiddled with her shirt buttons.

Sarah quirked her mouth. “So many secrets. You want to know all about me, or at least say you want me to move in with you, and yet there are rooms you don’t want to show me.” She turned and walked away from Jaya.

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This is it. I’m fucking this up, again. She flushed, remembering the times her father had beaten her for her “dirty drawings.”

“Wait.” Her hand was hot and sweaty on the doorknob. She left the door closed and followed Sarah down the hall, searching for words to soothe her. She had opened herself, let herself be taken, and given up control to Sarah. And enjoyed it. Too close. Too much. Share my body, no problem. Share my art, and I throw up walls a mile high. What the hell is wrong with me?

She heard water running. She envisioned Sarah standing in the shower and the way she knew the water would run over her curves, imagined the exact way the water would slide over her breasts and the rivulets that would accent her legs. She opened the door to the studio and grabbed a sketch pad and a pencil. She headed down the hall.

She tapped on the open door of the bathroom. Sarah didn’t answer. She was standing in the shower with her back to Jaya. The spray cascaded around her. She had not bothered to pull the curtain. Her hands were splayed out on the wall, and her head was bent as she let the water run down her back. Jaya leaned back on the sink and started drawing, letting her pencil find the slope of Sarah’s neck, the curve of her hip, the long line of her leg. She looked up and Sarah had turned, wiping the water from her eyes.

“What are you doing? Taking notes?” She frowned at her.

Jaya took a deep breath before turning the sketchpad towards Sarah. “In a way. I was going to ask your permission to sketch you, but you didn’t answer when I knocked.”

Sarah chewed her lip. She studied the drawing. She turned back to face the wall. “Is this how I had my hands?” Her voice was soft. A peace offering.

“The left one was a little higher.”

Sarah moved her arm up. “I hope you have a large water heater.”

“I’ll be quick, and when you’re finished I have something to show you.” She sketched quickly, getting the lines down. She would refine it later. The steam billowed around them. Sarah stood still, not moving, waiting for Jaya to finish.

“I’m done now. If you want to finish your shower, find me when you’re dry.”

She left Sarah there and went to her studio. She opened the door and left it open. She cleaned and straightened her drawing table and the clutter around her easel. She moved the finished color pencil sketch of Sarah to the easel so she could see it. Against a stark background, Sarah was bound to a Saint Andrew’s cross. Her face and the look in her eyes were the part of the work Jaya was most proud of. She had captured the submissive’s trust, affection, and lust all wrapped up in a pretty package.

She heard a low “wow” behind her and turned to see Sarah in the doorway. Wrapped in a towel, she entered the room slowly and turned in a circle.

Jaya stood in the center of the room, hands clasped behind her back. This is me. All the things inside my head are on display. Sarah blushed and pointed to the drawing fixed to Jaya’s easel. “It’s me.” She came to stand beside Jaya. “You did all of these?” She shifted and faced Jaya, her gaze intense.

“Yes.” Jaya swallowed hard.

“They’re beautiful.” She motioned to the drawings and paintings scattered around the room. “Are they all me?”

“Most of them.” Makes me look like an obsessed psycho.

“It’s hard to take them all in.” She pointed to the easel. “That one is from Rowan House, isn’t it?”

“Yes. The night… Well, you remember what night.” Say it now. Jaya moved away to look out the window. You’ve pulled the scab off. Say it. Tell her. Sarah moved behind her and slipped her hands around Jaya’s waist. She rested her head on Jaya’s back.

“This is what you didn’t want to show me? These are lovely and scandalous. So provocative.” She hugged Jaya closer. Her body was warm and comforting. “Nothing to be ashamed of, love.” Jaya turned in Sarah’s arms and kissed her, and Sarah opened to her, their kiss a slow dance of give and take.

Sarah moved Jaya’s hand between her legs to the slickness there. “I’ve never posed before. I didn’t know it would make me so hot.”

Jaya pressed her fingers into Sarah. The towel fell away and Jaya worked her fingers deeper into Sarah as she kissed her. The thrusts of her tongue mirrored the thrusts of her fingers. Sarah pulled back and gasped. She wrapped her hands in Jaya’s shirt, holding herself up.

“Let me come for you.”

Jaya’s lips twisted in a cruel smile. “Not yet.” She curled her fingers over the sweet spot she knew would send Sarah over the edge. Sarah shook. She bit her lip, fighting to hold back. A tear slipped from Sarah’s eye and she bit her lip. Jaya licked the tear from her face, savoring its salty, bitter taste and the desperation on Sarah’s face. She looked miserable and hot and so perfect.

“Now.” And Sarah broke, wetness soaking Jaya’s hand, her cries filling the studio.

 

COLLAPSE

About the Author

Brenda Murphy writes short fiction and novels. She loves tattoos and sideshows and yes, those are her monkeys.  When she is not loitering at her local tea shop and writing, she wrangles two kids, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot.  She reviews books, blogs about life as a writer with ADHD and publishes photographs on her blog Writing While Distracted .  She guest blogs on Queeromance Ink.


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