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Authors: Roz Lee

Tags: #Erotica

Love Me Twice (9 page)

BOOK: Love Me Twice
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He considered himself a tender and considerate lover, but there was no hint of either in the way he devoured her. For every liberty he took, Bree responded with one equally bold. Her sarong brushed against his calves as it slid to the floor, taking with it every reason he could think not to have this woman. She was willing, and he knew from the night before, able.

His hands found the perfection of her breasts, and at his touch, another musical tone vibrated through her and to him via their connected lips. Their breath came in matching pants. Drew broke the kiss and transferred his lips to her right breast. Bree wrapped her arms around his head like a shipwreck survivor clinging to a bit of flotsam.

She tasted like honey. In the garish light from the monitors, her breasts were mystical objects. Translucent orbs tipped with ripe plums. Drew took what he wanted from her. His teeth grazed her tight buds, his tongue soothed, his lips claimed.

Bree arched her back. Her head fell back, exposing her long neck to him. Her fire-red hair burned his hand where he supported her. She was sleek in the right places, all soft curves in the others. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. His lips went where they would, and his hands followed. Sometimes he could feel her eyes on him, but then he’d find that certain spot, and her gaze would dim and she’d surrender to him.

He lived for those moments. She wasn’t one to submit, and he’d never been one to dominate, but in those rare flashes when she was totally his, he knew what it was to be a king, in command of all he could see and touch.

When he lifted her from her chair and dropped her butt on the Formica desktop, she made no protest. When he stripped her panties away and stepped between her muscular thighs, she leaned against the console and propped her feet on the edge of the desk. One small hand slipped across her mound, and two blood-red tipped fingers spread her outer lips for him.

His heart stopped. His cock throbbed. He had to have her. Here. Now.

Drew lost whatever shred of decency he had. He found a condom amid the desk clutter and rolled it along his aching cock. He glanced at her face, hoped to God she hadn’t changed her mind. Her tongue rimmed her parted lips, an invitation if he ever saw one. He guided his cock to the opening she’d framed with her fingers, and nudged forward enough to hold his cock in place. His hands found her knees, and he froze there for the span of a heartbeat, all the time he would give her to change her mind now.

His heart thudded again, and his grip tightened on her raised knees. He flexed at the waist and drove his cock balls-deep inside her honeyed channel. A hoarse cry escaped her throat, and her blood-red fingertips moved to her clit. A fingernail scraped his groin.

“Shit.” Drew pulled away and plunged into her again, hard. He set a rhythm, and Bree met him thrust for thrust. Her fingers worked her clit like a harpist, tweaking and stroking, building to a crescendo.

Drew wrapped his arms around her legs, imprisoning her. He dragged her to the edge of the desk so he could go deeper. He’d never needed to be inside a woman the way he needed to be inside her. He jerked her body against his in a futile effort to go deeper. Her inner muscles twitched, and he clenched his teeth against his rising orgasm. He wouldn’t finish without her. He might be a son-of-a-bitch for fucking her on a desk, but he could damn sure hold off until she found satisfaction too.

Her body tensed. The eruption, like an undersea earthquake, shook him to his toes. Her pussy clenched around his cock. She folded herself against him, and he let her legs go so he could wrap his arms around her. Her teeth clamped on his shoulder, and he lost what little control he still had. He slammed his hips against her, and held her against him as his cock answered her earthquake with a tsunami that threatened to sweep them both out to sea.

Drew clenched his jaw against something inside he couldn’t name, didn’t want to name. Naming it would give it too much significance. He allowed himself a silent stream of curses as her bare feet slid off the edge of the desk, down his hips and thighs, and dangled next to his knees. He dropped his arms, and with his hands at her waist, lifted her away from him. He settled her on the desk and picked up their clothing.

He tossed her wrap in her general direction and fastened his around his hips, discarding the condom with practiced efficiency. Without a backward glance, Drew left her sitting in the otherworldly glare of the security monitors, alone.

Drew took the service stairs up one deck to the aft kitchen. His shoulder stung where she’d bitten him. He touched the area with light fingers and found small indentations where her teeth had sunk into his flesh and muscle. Damn. If it didn’t go away, he’d be wearing a shirt for the next few days. Normally that wouldn’t raise eyebrows, but on the
Lothario
, it certainly would. He grabbed a kitchen towel and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way through to the crew deck beyond.

The aft crew deck was mostly deserted. Few crew members were off duty at this time of night. Besides the obvious, this was the time a lot of behind the scenes work took place. Beds were turned down, laundry done, dishes washed, trash sorted and burned, to name a few. It was just as well. He wasn’t fit company.

He leaned against the railing. This was as close as you could get to the waterline and the giant screws that propelled the ship. The roar of churning water was deafening, making conversation impossible. Just what he needed. He stared beyond the reach of light from the upper decks, to the ink black ocean. What the hell happened back there? One minute he’d been obsessing over what Sean was doing with Celeste, and the next he was fucking another woman.

Not just any woman. Agent Bree Stanton.
Fuck
.

Last night, she’d been simply another passenger, another way to pass the time, a way to forget Celeste was onboard. Her red hair had attracted him from the start, and she’d been soft and willing in bed. Nothing like the explosive fireball he’d screwed on the desktop. He’d wanted her from the moment she opened the door to the security office and stood there, outlined by the hall lighting. But she wasn’t for him.

He loved Celeste. Always had. That didn’t mean his anatomy ceased operation though. Clearly, his cock hadn’t gotten the message about Celeste. In less than twelve hours, she would be his again, for a whole day before he had to turn her over to Sean again. Insanity. The whole thing was insane—bouncing Celeste between them like a ping-pong ball. Leave it to Sean, the mud-fucker to come up with an idea like this.

Drew moved away from the railing and dropped into a chair. Cold wire mesh bit into his bare ass beneath the short wrap. Crew comfort wasn’t a high priority, obviously. He considered going to the passenger decks where the comfortable deck chairs lived, but that would mean seeing people, possibly the two people he was determined to avoid for the next eleven hours and nine minutes. Not that he was counting.

He raised his arm to run his hand through his hair, but a sharp twinge in his shoulder brought him up short. Images came to mind—Bree’s hands wrapped around his forearms, hanging on as he drove into her. Her head thrown back as she absorbed him into her body. The thatch of fire-red curls between her legs. The first time he’d seen her naked, those curls had been the equivalent of a red flag in a bullring. He could appreciate a neatly trimmed mound, but the wild, natural look Bree sported, turned him into an animal.

Shit. What was he doing thinking of her again? And wanting her? He’d had her twice, and she’d been two different women each time. Soft and compliant the first time. Wild, and out of control tonight. If he had her again, would she morph yet again?

He rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder. This couldn’t happen again, no matter what his cock had to say about it.

Chapter Six

Her hours with Sean were drawing to a close. After he’d come in her mouth, they laid there, skin to skin for the longest, absorbing the feel of each other. Sean had been tender then, taking her with infinite care and attention. For a few short hours, they’d dropped the whole dom and sub agenda and just been lovers. As she watched him now, his long, lean body slicing through the warm salt-water lap pool, her body hummed with need.

Wrapped in a beach towel against the pre-dawn chill, her body warmed at the memory of Sean’s heated skin sliding over and into her, over and over again. He was a magnificent specimen, and he had stamina to equal it. Somehow, he found the strength to get in his morning workout, when it was all Celeste could do to stand without falling. Somewhere in the long night they’d shared, her legs had ceased to work. Sean had carried her to the edge of the pool, covered her with the beach towel, and ordered her to stay. As if she could walk away.

She knew it wasn’t fair to Sean, but her mind wandered to Drew, and what he was doing. In a few short hours, Sean would turn her over to his best friend, and possibly make an enemy of him by doing it, if he hadn’t already. If she slept with Drew, would Sean accept it, or would it be a wedge between them too?

What she wouldn’t give to turn back the clock and change that one decision. If she’d simply said no when Sean asked her to share herself with Drew, none of this would have happened. She would have had the last five years with Sean, and perhaps by now they would have had a child, maybe two. A burning coal took up residence in her chest, somewhere near where her heart should be. Before the capture, before that last mission, they’d talked about the possibility, and they’d both wanted it when the time was right. It had made walking away that much more difficult. She wondered if Sean felt the void the same as she did, or if he’d simply moved beyond it.

The sun peeked over the horizon and cast a gold ribbon across the deck and the shallow lap pool. Celeste turned her face to the light and let it fill her. It banished the outer chill, but deep inside her core was as cold and barren as the Antarctic.

* * * * *

Sean kicked against the pool wall and propelled his body toward the opposite end. He did it without conscious effort. Years of routine made swimming laps as effortless as breathing. This was his time to think every day. Some people meditated, some sat behind closed doors to find their own time, but the pool had been his choice since his teenage years.

Drew thought it was the ultimate irony. The Army dirt-eater who loved the water. Sean didn’t care what the slimy squid thought, he wasn’t going to change his ways because some fucking Navy SEAL found humor in it.

His arms moved mechanically, freeing his mind to examine whatever was foremost in his thoughts. Today, Celeste held all his attention, and the fact that he’d made a devil’s bargain with Drew. In a few short hours, he’d turn Celeste over to his best fucking friend. He’d kill the son-of-a-bitch if he touched her. His blood heated, and he was surprised the pool water didn’t boil. What kind of idiot was he? The bargain was bad enough. The fact that it was his idea cut deep.

Last night Celeste had been all his. She’d responded to him as if no time at all had passed since they’d been together. She wore his collar. She hadn’t asked to remove it since he’d put it on her. It belonged there. He knew it. But did she?

That’s why he had to remove the collar in a few hours and let her go to Drew. No matter what torture it was to his mind and body, he had to let her go. She had to choose between them on her own. He had to give her the freedom to explore her feelings. She’d never truly be his again if Drew stood between them. He loved her too much to stand between her and Drew if the fucking soap-on-a-rope could make her happy.

His gut clenched at the thought of all he would lose if she chose Drew. He hadn’t moved on in five years, doubted he would in another five. He’d read somewhere that love made a man weak, but that person had it all wrong. Love made a man strong. It was the loss of that love that could bring a man to his knees. He should know. He’d been looking at the world from a distinctly lower point of view since Celeste had walked away from him.

His body cut through the water with ease, aware every moment of her presence, her eyes on him. When her gaze turned away, he stopped. She sat on the pool deck, huddled under the turquoise beach towel, her face illuminated by golden light. Her eyes were closed, and if she noticed he’d stopped, she didn’t acknowledge it. He stood as still as a statue, looking his fill, storing the moments against the possibility they would be his last with her.

She’d never been more beautiful than she was now. Five years had added maturity and some other quality he couldn’t put a name to. It looked good on her, and he sent a silent prayer to the universe that he’d be around to see what the rest of her years would add to her beauty. Her body was still youthful, and she’d let her hair grow long and in contrast, had trimmed her mound to a short, neat fuzz. Just thinking about it made him grow hard again.

They hadn’t talked much about the past, about the plans they’d made, plans that crumbled to dust when she left. Of all of them, he’d accomplished only one—leaving the DIA and forming his own security company. They’d talked about getting married, settling down in a small town, and having babies. For months after she’d left, he’d dreamed of her at night. He’d hardly slept for the torturous thoughts that plagued his sleep.

BOOK: Love Me Twice
6.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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