Clifftop Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

Instead, he was turning the sheets down. He looked at her and asked, “Hope who does what?”

She smiled, her hand starting to reach for his zipper. Then she realized in an indistinct blur what she was doing and managed to stop it, clumsily pretending she’d been trying to help with the blankets.

That was the last thing she remembered.

Chapter 12

Allie’s eyes opened slowly and painfully. She became aware first of the bright morning light streaming over the bed. It was much brighter than it normally was when she got up. She shaded her eyes and turned to see what time it was.

Then she became aware that she was completely undressed, except for her panties. That was strange. She blinked, focusing slowly on the blankets strewn with the clothes she’d been wearing the previous day. The sheets were twisted around her as if she’d been fighting something or someone in her sleep.

Fighting. That brought back a memory. Karl ripping her clothes off, ravishing her…No, wait. Had that happened or had she imagined it? She remembered the feel of his arms around her and how horny that had made her. He’d carried her upstairs. She’d been drunk.

Oh, God. She’d been drunk. She hadn’t had that much wine in years. What had she said? What had they done? She racked her brain for information but only came up with images of his shoulders as he carried her up the stairs. He’d turned down the covers, and then…nothing.

She looked again at her clothes scattered over the bed and the floor. Obviously something had happened. She gingerly sat up, examining herself. No bruises, no soreness. There were no signs that he had stayed here with her. She must be imagining things, she thought. He had brought her up to bed and left her here. She had been expecting him to rape or murder her—that was stupid. She got a flash of herself saying, “You’re so strong” to him on the way up the stairs and flushed bright red. Maybe she hadn’t actually said it out loud—she could only hope not. What other embarrassing things had she said?

She got up to stumble into the bathroom, a hand on her forehead, groaning. Her head was beginning to pound, and she felt as though she had slept with her mouth full of cotton. She bent over the sink and began lapping water from her cupped hands.

She needed coffee. And to make breakfast for Brad and her guests…

Oh, wait. Brad was gone. Charlie was gone. Jane was probably with Brad in some cheap, dirty hotel room somewhere. She shook her head, trying to get rid of that visual, and groaned again as a fresh wave of pain and nausea hit her.

She forced herself through her morning ritual, resisting the urge to go back to bed and have a good cry. She needed to be strong. Karl had told her that she needed to prove that she could run this place by herself, without Brad. Then when he came back she could decide if she wanted him back for the sake of their relationship, not for the sake of the business.

The house felt silent and deserted as Allie descended the stairs, although she could smell coffee. She poured herself a cup and cut a piece of chocolate cake. There was already a good-sized slice missing, and a washed plate and mug in the drainer. She might have thought Brad was still here, Allie realized, tears stinging her eyes.

She ate her breakfast thoughtfully, trying to organize her thoughts. Did she want Brad to come back? He obviously wasn’t interested in the business. He’d been mentioning moving back to Kansas more and more frequently lately. Maybe she should just tell him to go.

The back door slammed. Allie felt her face going red again as she looked up to see Karl pouring himself another cup of coffee. She looked down again hastily.

He brought it over to the kitchen table and sat down across from her. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was trampled by a herd of wildebeest. A very large herd.” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, so she concentrated on her cake instead. She had a quick memory of herself musing about whether to call the police after he raped her or wait until he painted the barn. Her face went even redder. God, please don’t let her have said that out loud! She bent her head and pretended to be focused on her breakfast. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Good cake.” He sounded amused, and she forced herself to glance up at him. He was regarding her with a smile but didn’t seem to be making fun of her. “What are you going to do today?”

She found that she didn’t even need to think about her answer. “I’m going to have a talk with Brad.”

His eyebrows went up a fraction, but he just sipped his coffee.

Allie went on. “I think you’re right. We need to figure out what we want. Both of us. And decide whether we can make our relationship work.”

“What if he’s slept with Jane?”

His question startled her. At first she started to get angry, but she knew it was something she needed to consider. She remembered herself fantasizing about being raped by Karl last night. It would be hypocritical of her to be outraged by Brad’s being tempted by Jane after that. She would no doubt have slept with Karl if he’d asked. She couldn’t have sworn she hadn’t. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “We’ll deal with that if it comes up.”

“Fair enough. What if he wants you to sell the house?”

A pleasing feeling of strength and determination went through her. She could deal with this. Her head went up further. “Then he’s welcome to leave. I’m going to make it work here, even if I have to do it by myself.”

Karl nodded and stood up. “Okay, good luck. I hope it goes well. Let me know what happens.”

She watched him rinse his coffee mug and walk back out the door without saying anything else. It was like he knew what she needed most to deal with and could bring it to the surface and force her to face it. Other people didn’t do that. They encouraged you to feel sorry for yourself or ignore your problems or blame other people. She knew that Karl wouldn’t have allowed her to sit here and whine about Brad betraying her. If Brad had been unfaithful, then she needed to decide how to deal with it. No self-pity, no brooding. Karl wouldn’t have brooded. He’d be master of the situation. He’d probably be master of just about any situation.

And he was right. Make a plan and put it into action—that’s what needed to be done. She washed her dishes and went to the phone.

“Brad, I need you to come home for lunch,” she said as soon as he answered, resisting the urge to add, “unless you’ve got any hot dates today.”

He hesitated, and she wondered if she had been too forceful. Then he simply said, “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll see you at noon.” She hung up and went to make a list of things she needed to get done. It felt great to organize her thoughts, and she started to brainstorm ideas for lunch.

* * * *

Brad opened the front door at noon, still trying to sort out his thoughts about their situation. An unusual scent met his nostrils, and he stopped, considering. When they decided to open a bed-and-breakfast, Allie had begun collecting recipes, saying she wanted to be known for her “exotic” cooking. Most of her experiments were fairly successful, but they all seemed very strange to him. He went into the kitchen and found Allie dishing out something that looked even odder than it smelled.

He kissed her on the forehead with a tentative smile. “What’s that?”

“Tuna loaf,” she announced proudly, holding it up for him to sniff. “And I made some spinach rolls to go with it. There’s also scalloped potatoes left over from last night. You really missed a good meal.”

He took his plate from her and went to sit down. He couldn’t tell how angry she was about him not coming home. She sat down, too, and gave him what looked like a tense smile. He dug in, hoping he seemed enthusiastic. To his surprise, it actually tasted good. He swallowed and opened his mouth to tell her so, but she spoke first.

“So, Brad, don’t you think we need to discuss some things?”

There was no point now in complimenting the food, he realized. She would just think he was evading the issue. He looked down at his plate regretfully. He hadn’t even tried the potatoes yet.

“Brad,” she said in exasperation, glaring meaningfully at his fork. He put it down and met her gaze. They stared at each other.

“Where have you been staying?” she asked finally.

“At the office,” he said, looking down at his slightly rumpled shirt. “I need to get some more clothes.”

“So you’re planning to continue staying there? Don’t you think that’s kind of stupid?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“Well, I need to know what your plans are.” She didn’t sound particularly angry, he thought. They might have been discussing what movie to see. Strange.

He ducked his head, giving his food a wistful glance. “I don’t really have any plans.”

“Okay, then, let’s start with this. Please give me an honest answer. Are you interested in running a bed-and-breakfast with me?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to move back to Kansas City?”

“Maybe.”

“Did you sleep with Jane?” So that was why. She’d been sneaking up on the question she really wanted to ask. He should have known.

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” he said, his anger swelling. She had some nerve. “Are you feeling guilty? Did you fuck Karl last night?”

“Of course not!” Allie’s eyes got huge and she jumped up. She stood glaring at him. Neither spoke for a minute. Allie sat back down, passing a hand over her eyes. “This is going nowhere,” she said. “The important question is do you want to stay with me?”

He looked away, anger giving way to guilt. That probably had been a low blow. But he wouldn’t back down now. She’d asked for the truth. “I’m not really sure.”

Allie nodded. “You know, a few days ago I would have been devastated to hear that. Now it’s almost a relief.” She sounded suddenly calm and self-assured. “Okay, then. Here’s the deal. You have two days to decide. I don’t know what went on with Jane yesterday. We’ll deal with that later, if it’s still relevant. On Saturday I expect an answer on whether you’re interested in saving our relationship and working together on this business or not. If not, that’s fine. We’ll go our own ways, and you can move wherever you want. I won’t bother you for any kind of help if you don’t try to force me to sell. No liability or responsibility for you. You can go screw Jane or anybody else that you want to.”

He stared at her. “So you won’t go back to Kansas City with me if I go?”

“No.” There was a new expression on her face. She looked strong and decisive, not like the sweet, passive girl he’d thought she was. It was kind of hot, surprisingly. He hadn’t thought he liked aggressive women.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” he finally said.

“I’ve never felt this strongly about anything before,” Allie retorted.

It took another minute before Brad nodded, looking back down at his plate. “Two days,” he agreed. “I’ll need to get a few more clothes.”

Chapter 13

Allie stared at Brad, who looked like he just wanted to go back to his meal. Then she turned, hearing her voice say, “I’ll go pack for you,” and almost ran up the stairs.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to take back her ultimatum, to apologize and say, “Of course I’ll go back to Kansas City with you.” She was used to thinking of him as the strong one. She’d always counted on him to make the major decisions, even though he’d never seemed very comfortable doing it. It felt scary and wrong to stand there and invite him to leave her. But this was important, and she had to make a stand. He needed to realize that if he wanted her he had to take the B and B. If he wasn’t willing to stay here and run a business with her, he might as well go back to Kansas and find Dorothy. That wasn’t the life for her. It never had been.

Allie felt like a deflating balloon. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been expecting him to jump up and take her in his arms, telling her that of course if the house was that important to her, he’d be behind her a hundred percent. Together they’d make the place so successful that he’d be able to quit his job and run it with her, and they would be incredibly happy for the rest of their lives.

She supposed, as she went upstairs, that she was giving herself time to think. Surely she could make him see that their relationship was worth more than this. He couldn’t possibly want to give it up just to move back to his family and have a normal life working a nine-to-five until he retired. They had the opportunity here for real adventure, the chance to turn a dusty old house into a real showpiece. It had become beautiful under her care and Karl’s. They had worked side by side for six months, and the result was a truly magnificent place that she knew could be a successful business. She felt it. Every piece of shining wood, every antique she had learned to restore, every photograph Karl had framed and hung in exactly the right spot told her that she belonged here and, surprisingly, so did Karl. The house belonged to her, and she belonged to it. If Brad didn’t want to be part of that, then she should just accept that and let him go.

She pulled a suitcase from the closet and threw some of his clothes into it. When it was full she stared at it, remembering that he actually only needed enough for two days. But she put the rest of his toiletries in anyway and closed it, lugging it back downstairs to wait for him by the door.