by Vi Keeland
“Logan?”
He sat up and pushed Cora aside, shoving her dress against her chest.
“Elyse.” He got up and headed toward her. She looked over his shoulder and stared Cora down.
“Cora, get out of here!” he screamed, causing Elyse to jump back.
“You promised,” Elyse said, but wouldn’t look at Logan. “You said you would never…”
“This isn’t what you think.” He reached for her. “I swear.”
“No!” she yelled. “Don’t touch me.”
“Cora, tell Elyse what happened.”
“Why would I believe anything she has to say?” Elyse screamed. “You’re both disgusting.”
Cora got off the bed and slipped her dress back on. “I tried to warn you.” She smiled. “He’s a player. He wants what he wants when he wants it. Stop trying to figure him out.”
“She’s insane,” Logan said. “I wouldn’t touch her.”
“I can see with my own eyes. Do you think I’m stupid?” Elyse asked.
“She showed up here uninvited. I was in the shower.” He pleaded for her to listen. “I told her to leave.”
“Screw you both!” Elyse turned and ran down the hall.
“You stupid bitch!” Logan said to Cora as he grabbed a shirt from his desk chair and threw it on. When she smiled at him, his rage increased. He rummaged through his closet for a pair of jeans.
“Let her go back to New York where she belongs.”
“Get out of my house.” He stepped toward her. “If you ever come near me or Elyse again, I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“What could you possibly do to me?”
“I don’t want you.” He’d tried to spare her the truth before, but now she left him no other choice. “I never wanted you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Think about it. You came to my bed after that whole scandal with the councilman and his wife. You were a convenient way to forget what I had done. How I had humiliated my family.”
“I was there for you.”
“You came here every night looking to get off. It was a beneficial arrangement until you started talking about marriage and kids. There was never a time I was sober when we fucked.”
“That’s not true.”
He saw the hurt in her eyes, but polite wasn’t going to work anymore. Cora might very well have ruined his chance at happiness.
“I could be everything you need.”
“You can’t. Do you want to know how I know that?”
“I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.” She rolled her eyes.
“You’re not Elyse.”
“I love you.”
“Cora.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry but I’ll never feel that way about you. I tried to make you understand. Now please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
“You love her?”
“With everything I am.”
“You’re making the wrong choice. I can make you happy. Why can’t you let me?”
“Leave.” He pointed to the door. “Don’t come back. There’s nothing here for you.”
“I hope you get everything you deserve.” She ran out of the room, slamming the front door on her way to her car.
Logan pulled on his pants and hurried down the steps. Elyse’s keys were still on the hook behind the front desk. He looked out the window and saw her car in the driveway. She was still here.
“Elyse!” He yelled throughout the downstairs, but she didn’t answer. “Elyse! Answer me.”
Panic ruled his every move. Even if he did find her, would she believe him? Had her trust in him been shattered? Could he make her understand that what she thought she saw wasn’t the truth?
He checked the kitchen, but she wasn’t there either. Where would she go? He thought for a moment. He remembered the way her face lit up when she wanted to have lunch out in the woods.
Is that gazebo out by the trails still there?
You remember that old thing?
It had so much character. I used to dream I’d get married under it.
Logan pulled on his work boots at the back porch and headed to the trails. He’d make her understand. He had no other choice.
Chapter Eleven
Elyse ran out of the house so fast she didn’t take time to put on a jacket or grab her car keys. She regretted her haste now that a light snow blanketed the ground. A chill ran through her body as the howling wind hit her face. Ice cold tears slid down her cheeks.
She made her way to the old gazebo, taking refuge underneath it. She recalled with clarity the afternoon she and Logan ate lunch there. He hadn’t wanted her to return to New York because he said he didn’t want her to be away from him. She believed him when he said he’d never hurt her. How could he have…?
She stopped and thought for a moment. When she walked in on Logan and Cora, he wore nothing but a towel. His hair was damp and his skin still wet from the shower.
That sneaky bitch.
Cora must have taken him by surprise. Logan knew Elyse was on her way back to the inn. Did he really think so little of their relationship that he’d take another woman to the bed they shared knowing she was on her way home?
“Elyse!” Logan ran toward her. “Thank God you’re here.”
He stepped inside the gazebo shaking out the snowflakes that had accumulated in his thick brown hair. “You need to listen to me.”
“No, I don’t.” She held up her hand to stop him because she didn’t need to hear his explanation.
“Yes,” he yelled. “You do. What you saw with Cora – it isn’t what you think.”
“I know.”
“She was in our room when I…” He stopped and stared at her, confusion flooded his expression. “You know?”
She nodded.
“Why did you run?”
“I didn’t realize it right away. I was shocked when I saw the two of you together. It looked really bad.”
“I would never do that to you. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the only woman for me.”
She wiped the tears from her face. “It hurt seeing you with her like that. I thought you…”
He pulled her into his embrace. Despite the weather, his warm body comforted her. Maybe it was the way he made her feel – safe and secure – but he would always be home for her.
“Never,” he whispered. “I would never betray you. I had this special evening planned. I wanted to tell you – things.”
“What things?” She shivered against his chest.
“Let’s go inside. You’re freezing.”
“Tell me.” She looked up at him. “I need to hear what you were going to tell me. I need you to erase the image of her in your arms.”
“It wasn’t like that. Please, you have to believe me.”
“I do, but I still thought it.” Elyse trusted Logan, but the image of a naked Cora in his bed haunted her. “I want to hear what you have to say.”
“Fine.” He sat down on the bench and pulled her into his lap. “I wanted to tell you I’m having my attorney draw up papers putting your name on the inn along with mine. I want you to be my partner.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
“Because I can’t do this without you. I’ve assumed that you’d stay with me and help me run it, but I never officially asked you.”
She didn’t know what to say. He had stunned her. Of course she wanted to stay and help him. “Your partner?”
“In every sense of the word, cupcake. Will you stay with me forever?”
“What are you asking?”
“We’ll need to have a wedding out here after I restore this old thing.” He nodded up at the gazebo. “Will you marry me here this summer?”
“You want to – marry me?”
He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I picked out the ring, but I won’t have it until next week. I wanted to ask you properly over Christmas, but I couldn’t wait.”
“I don’t know what
to say.”
“I’m hoping it’ll be a yes. I know I’m rushing you, but I can’t wait. I’ve fallen deeply, madly in love with you.”
“You – love me?” she squeaked through new tears.
“Yes.” He brushed his lips against hers. “You took me by surprise. When you showed up here that night, I thought you’d stay a day or two. I never expected to fall so fast and so hard.”
“Me either.” She kissed him. “I love you so much.” She stroked his cheek. “I have ever since that night when we made love on the couch.”
He smiled. “I felt it that night too, but I wasn’t sure what was happening. I’ve never been in love before.”
“I want to marry you. I’ve dreamed about running this inn with you since my first night here. I thought I was being crazy, but I came here for you. I know I did.”
“I’m glad you did. I needed you.”
“We needed each other.” She hugged him indulging in his strong hold.
“This is only the beginning.” He held her tighter. “We have the rest of our lives.”
“To make fantasies into realities.” Something drew her here that warm night in September and it was the same thing that had made her stay. A force she never fully understood until now. Him.
“At Pleasure Inn.”
Available Now
The Pleasure Inn Series:
Indulging the Professor
Inn for the Holidays
About the Author
Ella Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialog have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can’t be stopped.
Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two boys. When she’s not chasing after her kids, she’s busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you’ll get lost in her words.
She loves connecting with her readers. You can find her here:
http://ellajadeauthor.blogspot.com/
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Summer’s Journey
A True Romance / Erotica Series
Summer Daniels
Volume One: Losing Control
Prologue
I slipped the blindfold over my eyes, took a deep breath and knocked twice on the door. I heard it open and Mark’s warm voice filled my ears. “Come in Summer. I am so happy you chose to join me tonight.” He led me into the center of the room and stopped. “Just stand there for a moment if you would while I feast my eyes. You look absolutely stunning. That lovely dress is going to look very stylish on the floor next to the bed.”
I never heard him move, but I could feel him behind me now. As he nuzzled the side of my neck, he pressed himself lightly against me. Whatever reservations I once had at giving up control to this stranger disappeared as my nipples did their best to rip through the lace bra and silk dress. How on earth could he know that my neck was one of my weak spots?
“I must confess that you are wearing much more at the moment than I am” he said. “Allow me to even the playing field.” As he slowly unzipped my dress, he followed the descending zipper with his soft lips and tongue. He reached up and tugged gently and the dress pooled at my feet.
1
I gave serious thought to unveiling my real name to the world. Throwing all caution to the wind and changing my life for good.
I decided it wasn’t quite fair to my family. While I’m not particularly close to my brother or sister, I am quite partial to my nieces and nephews and I couldn’t picture the looks on their faces if my secrets were revealed and my true identity widely known.
I think sometimes it is still possible that they will stumble across these stories someday and recognize their Aunt in some fashion. Then I think that the odds of their associating the wild and wanton ways of “Sassy Summer” with the Aunt who would never even wear a bikini in front of them would be akin to winning the lottery without buying a ticket. Not going to happen.
Then again, I had no idea just how wild and wanton things were going to get.
I was a simple fortyish average housewife. Not going to win any beauty pageants, but I hadn’t given up on trying to keep a little pride in my appearance, or in my marriage. Right up until the day about eighteen months ago when my husband of almost twenty years told me he was trading me in on a younger, sportier model. Not his exact words of course, but they might as well have been. To say I was shocked would be an understatement of epic proportions.
Things had never been particularly exciting in the bedroom, or in our marriage in general, but they were comfortable. That was the word that described our marriage and our life together the best. We rarely fought, nothing more serious than the usual complaints of a long marriage, such as a toilet seat left up leading to a wet ass in the middle of the night. Or his anal personality shining through in the way he scrubbed all our dishes before they were allowed in the dishwasher. I’m sure he had his complaints as well, who doesn’t after almost twenty years of marriage, but if he had them, he kept them to himself.
Perhaps the ass I mentioned previously had gotten a little wider since we had gotten married, but he never said a word and since I bought most of his clothes over the years, I knew that his waistline had expanded as well.
Looking back I suppose it is just too easy to get complacent, to get “comfortable” in a marriage, to take each other for granted. It is a sad commentary on marriage perhaps, but I would bet more than half of you out there reading this right now are nodding your heads in agreement, recognizing for yourself the truth in my words.
Some of you might take that recognition as a wakeup call for your own marriage. If you do, I am more than happy for you. Some of you will recognize the signs of demise in your marriage, or already have, but just don’t care. That is honestly more common than I think most people care to admit to themselves.
As for myself, I am not sure I really believe in marriage anymore. Or maybe I just can’t see going back to the way things were. Feeling free at the age of – well, at my age, doesn’t just feel good, it feels right.
Maybe the spark had died in our marriage when we went through the series of miscarriages fifteen years ago. The last one was a fallopian tube miscarriage, ending for us the dream of children of our own.
The emotional scars that were left behind were much more damaging than the physical ones.
Sex was never the same for us after that. Where things had once been light and playful, there was now a sense of lingering disappointment and resentment. Maybe it would have been better out in the open where we could deal with it, but neither of us were the type to confront our feelings, choosing instead to hide behind our usual routines and excuses. Sound familiar to any of you?
2
After spending the better part of two weeks crying into my ice cream and wine with my best friend Julie, I finally came to the realization that maybe this was an opportunity instead of a disaster. I had always wondered in the back of my mind what it might be like to be that uninhibited woman capable of having sex just for the sake of pleasure, to be well and truly fucked for once, to be satisfied to the point of exhaustion. Certainly these were things I had never felt in the confines of my marital bed.
Given how much time I suddenly had on my hands coming home to an empty house, I found myself spending too much time with my hands on myself. While I enjoyed masturbation with a renewed sense of purpose since the separation, it left me feeling empty and unfulfilled. I needed to go out on a date. Except I really didn’t want to date, I wanted to get laid. Crude perhaps, but true.
Something Julie said one night after too much wine came to mind. She said that the internet had opened up a whole new world for women in terms of finding some
one to take care of their needs. Given that she is happily married with three kids, I found the comment somewhat unsettling and quickly dismissed it as nothing more than the wine talking. Her comment stayed in the back of my mind through the next several days though and made me wonder what might be out there.
I had enough common sense to not just post an ad that said “Looking to get laid” – I would still be sorting through responses and close-up pictures of men’s cocks even now a year later. Those pictures lie by the way, they are never as big in real life as in the photo, something about the angle of the camera.
After looking through hundreds of ads from men that either wanted “to meet tonight” (translation: desperate) or that were just “looking for someone to talk to” (translation: married), I finally decided on posting an ad that simply said “Seeking something casual, I’m a sure thing, but not easy, I’m going to make you work for it”. I figured that would weed out the “let’s meet tonight” guys and allow me to exchange a few emails with an intelligent man or two. I figured wrong. The sheer volume of “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll walk funny for a week” emails quickly overwhelmed me. Or should I say the sheer volume of “u r so sexy – I have a large dick and you will cum over and over” type of emails overwhelmed me. The lack of intelligent response and simple grammar skills was mind-boggling.
Sorting through emails, unsolicited pictures and more than a few threesome invites, I really had no idea what I was looking for. It became something of a process of elimination, because I certainly knew what I wasn’t looking for.
It became apparent quickly that finding the right combination of intelligence, humor, personality and charisma was going to be like the proverbial needle in a haystack. Out of several hundred responses (who knew there were that many horny men out there?), only a few warranted a return email. Perhaps I was being picky, but I really didn’t think being able to spell orgasm without being spotted a vowel was asking too much.