Guilty Hearts Read online

  Guilty Hearts

  Jade Winters

  Guilty Hearts

  by Jade Winters

  Published by Wicked Winters Books

  Copyright © 2014 Jade Winters

  www.jade-winters.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Other titles by Jade Winters

  Novels

  143

  A Walk Into Darkness

  Caught By Love

  Novellas

  Talk Me Down From The Edge

  Short Stories

  The Makeover

  The Love Letter

  Love On The Cards

  A Story Of You

  To Ali

  For always making the impossible – possible.

  PROLOGUE

  Rachel checked her watch — 11:00 p.m. Relief flooded her. Having made a ten minute dash from Kings Cross tube station, she had arrived at the pub just on time. After a long, stressful day at the office she was in desperate need of some light relief — and God was she looking forward to it. As she took a seat at the bar she pushed back loose strands of hair from her face and studied her reflection in the bar’s mirror, adjusting her low-cut bodice until it revealed more of her womanly attributes.

  She scanned the busy room, looking for her date but her attention was quickly drawn behind her, as two women, engaged in a raging argument, knocked over a table. Beer glasses shattered on the wooden floor, spraying dark liquid in every direction.

  “Some people really shouldn’t drink,” the bartender said to Rachel, shaking her shaven head as she placed a Jack Daniels and Coke in front of her. “Special delivery from the woman at the end,” she added as she walked away and called another employee to sort out the mess.

  Rachel leaned forward, craning her neck to look past the row of women blocking her view. She caught the eye of the young woman in question and liked what she saw — tall and slender with an edgy pixy hair cut and a silver stud piercing the right side of her nose. Barely able to contain her excitement, Rachel raised her glass in the air, then brought it down to her lips, her red lipstick staining the rim as she sipped it slowly. The woman smiled back knowingly and headed in her direction.

  “Sadie?” Rachel asked as the woman approached, her gaze leaving her face and falling to the swell of her breasts. The woman’s hardened nipples strained against the fabric of the black T-shirt she wore.

  Sadie nodded. “And you must be Rachel.”

  For a few minutes they engaged in small talk, until Rachel leaned in closer, her cheek brushing Sadie’s. “Well, shall we go then?”

  “Sure,” Sadie said, her blue eyes flashing with delight.

  With that, Rachel slid off the stool on which she was perched and strode towards the women’s toilet, with Sadie in tow. Once in the toilet cubicle, Rachel barely had time to lock the door behind them before Sadie pulled Rachel towards her. She could feel the cotton fabric of her flimsy top being torn apart as Sadie’s fingers left livid white prints on her breasts as she squeezed them hard. Rachel gasped in pleasurable pain. She kissed Sadie hungrily, her tongue exploring every inch of the other woman’s mouth.

  “I want you,” Sadie whispered, a fierce urgency in her voice. “Do you want me?” she asked between passionate kisses. “Tell me you want me,” she said as she pushed up Rachel’s short skirt and dropped to her knees.

  Some perverse part of her delighted at seeing Sadie’s face burying itself between her legs. “Yes, I want you,” Rachel groaned, her voice husky, her knees feeling weak as she gave into the ferocity of the other woman’s demand. Minutes later, she let out an uncontrollable scream as she felt a sudden cascading release, her body shuddering uncontrollably.

  Sadie stood up smiling, meeting Rachel’s eyes with a wolf-like hunger. “Now it’s my turn.”

  ***

  Hours later, in the comfort of her bedroom, Rachel sat behind her desk on a tattered grey swivel chair, surfing her usual website, already searching for her next hook-up. She’d had a crazy night, and she was, as usual, eager to find the next candidate. She scrolled through the names and bio’s, not finding anyone who suited her. She passed a few people she recognised as previous ‘dates’, and a few names she never wanted to see again.

  As she continued to trawl through the profiles, the computer chimed with the sound of a new message. Clicking on it, she read the text quickly. Now this looks interesting. She clicked the reply button and began typing, a wry smile spreading across her lips.

  CHAPTER 1

  Kensington Palace stood a few hundred yards away from a two-bedroom penthouse that spanned the entire length of a handsome period building. Inside the upscale and spacious home, Gareth briefly closed his eyes. “Kathryn, will you please tell me what’s wrong?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  He stood in front of his wife, his tall, broad frame towering over her as she sat reading in their elegant living room. The room was awash with light from the imposing chandelier that dangled from the high ceiling. She had not said anything to imply something was bothering her, but Gareth could read her just as easily as she was reading her magazine.

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?” Kathryn asked with a prodigious yawn, hardly looking up from the page.

  He gave her a narrow stare. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve barely said a word to me all evening,” he said, his public school drawl dripping with sarcasm as he spun around and left the room.

  Gareth knew his wife was not happy. He had tried everything he could think of to make things better between them. Every move he made, every plan he executed, was a shot in the dark. Not long ago, they had been watching a dramatised screening of a novel on TV called Tipping the Velvet. The focus of the story was a lesbian love affair between a male impersonator and a music hall star, set in the 1890s. Halfway through, he had asked Kathryn nonchalantly if they should watch something else, expecting her to say yes. When she failed to respond, he’d glanced over to see her sitting erect at the edge of her seat. The two leading ladies were in the midst of a no-holds-barred sex scene. From the side, he could just about make out the expression on Kathryn’s face, her unblinking eyes staring at the TV as though she was looking into another world — one that she wanted desperately to be a part of. He had studied her intently for a long time, when a paralysing moment of insight formed in his mind: could his wife be attracted to women? Gareth knew jumping to conclusions did not always make for happy landings, but he had to find out the truth somehow. As he had lain in bed that night, his dilemma probed and poked at him, keeping sleep at arm’s length. His dark inner voice told him that he could never make her happy until he exorcised the demon that lay within her. It was then that it dawned on him. He knew what he needed to do if he had any hope of saving his marriage.

  Still feeling aggrieved by Kathryn’s indifference, Gareth made his way to his office at the end of the hallway. Flopping down onto his brown leather chair, he switched on his computer. When it came to life, he logged onto the ‘Girlz-on-Girlz’ website. He had found the site quite accidently when he’d clicked on one of the many annoying sex ads that kept popping up on his screen. What had caught his attention was the fact that the ad was solely for women looking for female partners ‘for fun, no strings attached’.

  Many of the women in the profiles were attractive by any man’s standards. He had registered immediately and it wasn’t long before he was emailing a beautiful young woman who promised to be the ‘soul of discretion for all those frustrated ladies out the
re’. She had sounded ideal. One new message. He listened closely for Kathryn’s footsteps. I hope it’s good.

  As he clicked on the message and began to read, a feeling of jubilation rose within him. Wonderful! Pandora will go to the bar tonight! As he clicked ‘reply’, his fingers took over the function of his brain as he responded with a message that he hoped he wouldn’t live to regret. It was his last attempt at trying to salvage his marriage. If Kathryn took the bait, at least he would know what he was up against and could figure out what to do next. But if she didn’t? He shook his head. He didn’t even want to think what that would mean for their relationship.

  Stretching his arms out wide, he sighed deeply before standing and making his way back to the living room. “Are you still going out tonight?” he asked as he entered the room. Kathryn was still sitting on the chair, mindlessly thumbing through her magazine.

  She glanced up from under her eyelashes. “Yes,” she replied, her tone mellifluous and smooth. “Unless you don’t want me to. I can always give Jo a call and tell her I can’t make it.”

  “No, no,” Gareth said, running his finger around the collar of his pinstriped shirt. “You’ve seemed out of sorts lately; I think spending time with your friends will do you the world of good.”

  “You can always come with me,” she suggested half heartedly. “You haven’t seen Jo in ages.”

  He could tell by the way she failed to meet his eyes that it was a gesture made out of pity and she didn’t really mean it. “No, it’s alright. I think I’ll read and watch a bit of telly,” he said, turning away from her and busying himself by looking for the TV control.

  “Okay, but if you change your mind ....” She glanced down at her watch. “I think I’d better get ready,” she said as she rose from her seat. She stopped before leaving the room completely and faced him. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry for making it seem as if you had. I’ve just been feeling frustrated lately.”

  Gareth’s face twisted in confusion. “Frustrated about what?” he asked.

  “Just ... life in general. It’s nothing you or I could change, it’s just —” Kathryn sighed, her piercing blue eyes inscrutable. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything,” she said quickly as she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

  Gareth slumped onto the sofa and switched on the TV. His manicured thumb tapped the button on the remote control as he absent-mindedly flicked through the channels, quietly dwelling on what his wife had just said to him. His lips twisted into a cynical smile. She’s frustrated? I’m the one who feels more like a father figure than a lover — the only sex that seemed to takes place in their bedroom was what they watched on TV.

  “Did you hear me?”

  Kathryn’s voice drew him back to the present. With his mind so focused on his troubling thoughts, he hadn’t realised how quickly the time had passed. Kathryn had showered, dressed in jeans and a black turtle neck jumper and was standing directly beside him.

  “Hmm?”

  “I said my cab is here, I’m leaving now. I told you about three times. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sorry. I was in a bit of a daze,” he said as he stood up to face her.

  “Oh, Gareth, please don’t dwell on what I said. It didn’t mean anything. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

  “Yes, I know. I wasn’t dwelling. Go. Have fun,” Gareth insisted as he ran his fingers through his silver streaked hair. He had made special plans for tonight, and he didn’t want Kathryn to ruin what he had tried so hard to arrange.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Her name is Kathryn, and she looks absolutely stunning,” Rachel gushed as she applied mascara to her long eyelashes in the minute bathroom mirror.

  Dressed in a black waistcoat and black skinny jeans, with her long brunette hair teased up on top of her head, she was excited about the evening ahead. “Look for yourself!” she called out to flat mate, Zoe. “Her photo is still open on my laptop.”

  “Surely you’re not going to go through with it?” Zoe scoffed as she picked the computer up off the floor. She inspected the photo of the woman with thick blonde hair tumbling carelessly past her shoulders, facial bones delicately carved and a tempting curved mouth smiling pleasantly at the camera. Shaking her head, she put it back down.

  “You’re damn right I am.” The determination in Rachel’s voice was unmistakeable.

  “But she’s married, and by the sounds of it, to a right creepy bastard at that,” Zoe called back.

  “Would you be saying that if it was a woman asking me to meet her husband in a bar to see if he found other women attractive? Besides, I’m only doing it because he sounds as if he really loves her,” Rachel said as she entered the cramped living room. She brushed past Zoe, who sat on a faux leather chair, and headed towards a mismatched two-seater sofa. “He just wants to find out if she’s attracted to women, that’s all,” she continued as she sat down, picked up a bottle of wine from the coffee table, and poured a generous amount of the liquid into her empty glass.

  “What? He loves her so much he would risk her falling for another woman? Tell me you’re not buying that crap. I bet he’s using this as an excuse to get his sloppy pecker up.” Zoe’s features scrunched up as she took a gulp of her bitter-tasting beer. “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s all a set-up, and he’s got peepholes in the bedroom wall so he can catch a bit of the action when she brings home unsuspecting victims ... like you.” She crossed one long, gangly leg over the other and rubbed her hand over her short-cropped hair.

  “He doesn’t want me to sleep with her, Zoe, he just wants me to flirt a bit,” Rachel said. “And anyway he might have got it all wrong. She might not even be gay.”

  “So what’s your plan? How do you intend to snare this poor, unsuspecting woman?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I’ll just play it by ear. It will most probably amount to nothing anyway.” Rachel fully understood why some married women checked out of intimacy in their relationships. It wasn’t that they were having an affair or lusting after the milk man. It all boiled down to feeling like they were being taken for granted.

  Yet most long-suffering husbands failed to understand this; they would rather blame an external bogey man for their own failings to make their wives feel special. This wasn’t the first time she had heard a husband complain he thought his wife was a lesbian just because she didn’t want to jump in the sack with him at every given opportunity.

  “If, and I mean if, she fails to fall for my charms,” Rachel said, fluttering her eyelashes. “I’ll just email her husband and tell him either I’m not her type, or she’s just isn’t attracted to women and the problems they are having are nothing to do with her sexuality.”

  Zoe took off her gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed her eyes. “And if she does fall for your ploy, are you going to tell her that her own husband went on a hook-up site looking for women to out his wife?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. Stop being so pedantic! Why don’t we actually wait and see what happens?”

  “What is the world coming to?” Zoe asked as she slapped her beer bottle on the coffee table. “I remember the days when, if you wanted some truth from your partner, you just asked them and if you wanted a quick shag you trawled the bars until you got lucky.”

  “Times have changed since your day, Zoe. Welcome to the age of the Internet. It caters to all sorts, sizes and desires.” Rachel smiled. She still found it hard to believe that in all the time she had known Zoe, she’d always been single. She’d not even had a one-night stand, which was surprising given her good looks — tall and slim, with flawless coffee-coloured skin, chiselled features, full lips and a taut body. They had been flatmates for nearly five years, having met when Rachel covered a Gay and Lesbian Pride event. At the time, Zoe was one of the organisers she’d interviewed and having hung out with her for the day, found out that she was looking for a place to live after recently splitting up with her girlfriend. Rachel hadn’t hes
itated in offering her the spare room in her flat and she’d never regretted doing so. Since then they’d become inseparable, and she now looked at Zoe more like a sister than a friend.

  “Hmmm, Internet shagging, sounds like great fun,” Zoe said sarcastically.

  Rachel grinned at her. “I don’t know why you don’t have a look at the site yourself. You never know, someone might actually catch your eye!”

  “Because I’m not desperate.”

  “Yet,” Rachel said under her breath. She raised her voice slightly. “Anyway, I don’t see what the big deal is — married women actually pay people to do this kind of thing all the time. I think it will be fun.”

  “You call that fun?” Zoe said, pointing to the computer, letting her facial expression elongate her disgust. “Setting a honey-trap for a pervert’s wife. Whatever happened to sisterhood?”

  Rachel put her glass on the table and reached for her boots, which were laying idly in the centre of the room. “Look, her husband contacted me, not the other way round. I didn’t send him a message saying, ‘Can I have permission to meet your wife and find out if she’s a closet lesbian?’ I innocently put an ad on a site for people looking for adult fun. I can’t help it who responds to my ad.”

  “What? You want me to believe that there wasn’t one woman who was single and fully available on a website of hundreds of women looking for fun, as you put it — that you really need to involve yourself with a husband setting a trap for his wife?”

  ‘‘Jeez, take a chill pill, Zoe!” she said, picking up her black and silver-studded bag from beside the sofa and stuffing her keys and purse into it. “I’m not going to murder the woman.” She zipped her bag closed with finality.