Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  The time she spent with Susan was often filled with hilarity. They shared stories of past unrequited lovers, of hilariously bad first dates, about the dreams their youth had built and the passage of time had corroded. They laughed together when Melia helped Susan bathe herself, Susan dispelling all awkwardness by saying the most sexually explicit things she could think of until Melia relaxed. Susan had been right to think that Melia would breathe life into their home. Luka was able to return to work a few days at a time and as a result he smiled more, laughed more freely, and seemed less forlorn. With time, Melia accepted that she was nothing to Luka, and convinced herself that she also had ceased to care. But an accidental brush of skin in a crowded kitchen, their proximity to one another as they squeezed into the hallways, knowing that they were so close at night, threw Melia into a constant state of confusion.

  Luka tried desperately to keep himself from brightening simply at the sound of Melia’s voice. He grew aroused whenever he passed her door and heard the shower running, but he would hurry past trying to fill his mind with anything but the image of her body under a stream of warm water. It was strange to think about, his feelings for a woman who was taking care of his dying wife, and he was fighting against a mounting attraction — and guilt — that were threatening to tear him apart.

  One night, as he laid in bed with Susan, caressing her face, trying not think about the guilt that plagued him more every day. He caressed her face lovingly and tried to hide how troubled his mind was. She was paler, weaker, and he had noticed she was eating less. Luka worried that he wasn’t ready for her to go…and what it would mean if he was.

  “You’re worrying again,” said Susan without opening her eyes. She sighed and the sound rattled in her chest. “You need to stop worrying. This is happening. And you need to start thinking about your future.” Susan paused and tried to catch her breath. “Melia”

  “What about Melia?” Luka said, tensing.

  Susan opened her eyes and looked at him with her penetrating gaze. “I guess I’m concerned with what will happen to her. I feel like she’s become a part of our family in such a short time.”

  Luka frowned but said nothing.

  “She’s young, beautiful, and caring. I can see that you care for her.”

  “I—what? Susan, you’re tired. I don’t know what you think is happening between me and Melia but there’s nothing there.”

  Susan slowly propped herself up on a bony elbow and stared at Luka. “I didn’t say that there was. I don’t think you understand me. We both care for Melia. In only two months she has become a huge part of our day—in the kitchen, she helps keep things clean and tidy, she’s become a great friend and companion to me. Can you imagine going through a single day without having her around?”

  Luka thought carefully and shook his head. “I just want you to promise me that you’re going to take care of her.”

  Susan’s eyes started to close. “I want you…to promise…you’re going…to…care…for her.” Susan drifted to sleep leaving Luka to his thoughts.

  His wife was a perceptive woman; he wouldn’t put it past her to have noticed his growing attraction towards Melia. She hadn’t seemed angry though. Instead, it almost seemed like she was pushing him towards Melia. But Susan had been extra fatigued lately and he turned away from the idea that Susan might be trying to play matchmaker before she died. It was definitely something she would do, but she would have also been more direct about it.

  Luka shook his head and turned off the bedside lamp. Trying to decipher Susan’s wishes when she was doped up on pain medication and drifting to sleep had proven to be an impossible task. He turned over and went to sleep.

  Melia woke up to a frantic Luka. “She can’t breathe!”

  Snapping up into a seated position, Melia rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She jumped out from under the covers and followed Luka to the master bedroom, where they found Susan coughing violently as she leaned on her bedside table. Her frail body seemed to be disappearing into the pillows and fluffy sheets of her bed. Susan’s body shook with every ragged breath. Melia quickly ran to the closet Susan had cleared to keep her medications in. She grabbed Susan’s pain pills and a small oxygen tank. She listened to her lungs and told Luka to lower the temperature of the room a few degrees.

  “It sounds like there’s some fluid build-up in there. A lower temperature sometimes helps to relieve that discomfort.” She quickly set up the oxygen tank and slipped the mask over Susan’s face. Once her breath stabilized, Melia offered her a glass of water and her pain pills. Susan tiredly and gratefully beamed at Melia, but was unable to speak. Melia rubbed some warmth back into Susan’s hands and arms. She nodded to Luka to do the same with Susan’s lower body. Once Susan had fallen asleep, Melia propped up her pillows and motioned for Luka to leave her alone.

  “Dyspnea,” she said quietly as she lowered her eyes. “It’s common in end-of-life cancer patients.”

  Luka nodded and rubbed his eyes. “I was told that sometimes last breaths can be really pained and difficult. I guess I thought she was dying.”

  Melia nodded. In the kitchen, Luka handed her a glass of water. He looked her over, a shiver running up his spine. She had been in total control; calm, cool, collected. She had worked so quickly and so compassionately; it was a bit exhilarating to see her at work. Almost as quickly as he had this thought though, he thought of his wife was upstairs, sick — and he felt ashamed.

  Melia stared into the cup of tea Luka had handed her. She blinked back tears. Susan’s faltering health had caused her unexpected grief and she often went to the bathroom or to her room to cry. Luka walked into the living room and sank into an armchair. Melia followed silently and sat down on the sofa across from him. For a few moments that stretched into an eternity for Melia, they sat in complete silence. The only sounds were the crickets outside, the ticking of a clock somewhere nearby, and the steady rise and fall of Luka’s breath.

  “The worst is the waiting.” Luka sighed and put his mug down on the coffee table between him and Melia. “Throughout the night I wake up often to check if she’s still breathing. Every morning, I wake up and wonder if this is the morning I’m going to wake up and she’s going to be dead. I worry constantly whenever she coughs, whenever her breath becomes uneven. I worry every second I’m not with her.” Luka fell silent again. He brushed back his disheveled hair and covered his face with his hands.

  Melia felt conflicted about what to do. She wondered if she should go to him but remembered that the first time she had attempted to console him; he had recoiled from her like a hand from a venomous snakebite.

  “Then I feel guilty, because I wonder how I can possibly even try to compare my suffering to hers. I worry but she’s the one who’s dying. She’s the one in constant pain, who’s living each day on borrowed time, on less strength than she had the day before. And she’s the one who knows that her time is going to be up soon. Is it selfish to feel these things when she’s the one who’s physically suffering?” Luka looked up at Melia pleadingly.

  “Everyone has their suffering; no one’s suffering is more important than another’s. It’s just… different.” Melia tried to keep her voice steady. “You have your pain, she has hers.”

  “It’s this terrible gnawing feeling, I want her to die. I do. Then her pain will go away. But I don’t know if that’s a horrible thing to want for someone that you love. I often find myself praying, even though that’s not really something that I did before the cancer…I pray to god or to the universe, that they have mercy on her so she won’t suffer anymore. But I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”

  “That’s not uncommon,” said Melia quietly. “I think that’s how a lot of people who are losing loved ones to a terminal illness end up feeling.”

  “I miss her. She’s not even gone yet, and I already miss her.” Luka blinked away the tears that had been welling up in his eyes since the moment he had awoken to hear Susan’s ragged breathing.

  Melia r
ushed over to his side and rubbed his shoulders. This time he sank further into her instead of moving away. “I’m so sorry that you’re going through this. This must be so hard, and I can’t even imagine having to go through something like this. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Melia whispered it into Luka’s head as he clutched her around the waist. She threw her head back to stay the tears, Luka’s suffering almost suffocating to her, and she wanted nothing more than to make him happy. When Luka’s tears stopped falling, he wiped his face and got up to go to the kitchen. Melia felt destroyed. Watching helplessly as Luka fell apart in her arms over the death of another woman—a woman he loved — was like putting her heart through a meat grinder. She went back to her seat and waited for Luka to come back.

  “You two seem to really love each other,” she said in a small voice that barely reached above a whisper.

  Luka nodded and smiled sadly. “We did…we do.”

  Melia shook herself and mustered her best wicked smile. She knew she had to change the mood before she totally lost it. “Yeah, she told me one of the things she misses the most since she got sick is the kinky shit you guys do together in bed.”

  Luka froze and went pale before flushing the brightest red Melia had ever seen. “She told you that?” he sputtered.

  His lack of composure caused Melia to laugh out loud. “Calm down, I’ve definitely heard and seen stranger things.” The wide-eyed, open-mouthed horrified look on Luka’s face didn’t go away, causing Melia to laugh even harder. “I’m sorry, was that too shocking for you?”

  Luka wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and shook his head. “I mean she told me you guys were getting closer but I had no idea she was telling you so much about our intimate lives.”

  “You’d be shocked the things people tell you when they’re dying and sick and have no one else to confess their secrets to,” Melia laughed. “Something about whips and chains.”

  Luka flushed red again. “No chains…they’re leather bindings.”

  “I was wondering what those things attached to the bed posts were.”

  Luka sighed and cracked a smile. “Don’t tease. It’s not nice.”

  “I’m not teasing, I’m actually really curious. You don’t seem like the domineering type and Susan doesn’t seem easily subdued.” Melia knew she was pushing his buttons but she needed to know more. She wanted to know why she desired to be at his feet. Why she could imagine kneeling by his side while he stroked her hair. Why she had imagined a collar around her neck ever since she read about a collaring.

  Luka shook his head. “That’s a huge misconception. Being weak-willed or mild-mannered has nothing to do with being a submissive. Susan is one of the strongest women I know, being a submissive is about relinquishing all control of your body and of your pleasure into another person’s hands. It’s about trusting that person to be able to please you without your input, since you’re a bit...tied up.” Luka smiled a lopsided and sheepish grin.

  Melia felt her heart rate increase and worked hard to steady the rise and fall of her chest. “Oh my. Well, that sounds interesting.”

  “You’ve never tried it?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  It was Luka’s turn to smile wickedly. “You should.”

  Melia’s mug clattered onto the table as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She couldn’t control the rising desire that had concentrated itself between her legs. She ran her fingers across her neck and tried to focus.

  “Is it really painful?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Only as painful as you want. Some people like a little bit some people like a lot.”

  “And the humiliation?”

  “Hmm, some folks are into that. I personally don’t like humiliating women, so that’s not really a part of my BDSM experience. I love dominating a woman, tying her up so she can’t move, pleasuring her and teasing her until she can’t stand it anymore.” Luka crossed his legs to keep his growing erection from showing.

  Outside, in the waning night, the hoot of an owl seemed to break the spell inside the living room. Melia sprang up. “Thanks for the tea. I think I should go to bed now, early day tomorrow, want to make sure that I’m awake and refreshed in the AM.”

  Luka cleared his throat and nodded. After putting their dishes in the sink they slowly made their way up the stairs. At the entrance of Melia’s bedroom, they turned to one another to say their goodnights.

  All Melia could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her ears, the rush of blood in her veins. She felt the growing warmth and wetness between her legs and let a sigh escape her lips.

  “Goodnight, Melia,” he whispered. He was unusually close to her, causing her to have to look up at him. He looked down at her upturned face, her glowing dark eyes lit up like onyx stones. It took every fiber of his being not to kiss her luscious, slightly parted lips. They were both panting lightly. He could tell she wanted him, and he wanted nothing more than to satisfy her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather the strength to tear himself away from her.

  “Good night, Luka,” she said and reached back for her doorknob. Slinking in sideways, she slipped into her bedroom.

  Before she could close the door Luka caught her wrist in an iron grip and pulled her back into the hallway.

  7

  Luka pushed Melia against the wall and pinned her hands above her head. Melia felt Luka’s sizeable erection brush up against her, and she gasped as Luka clamped his mouth over hers. He kissed her roughly with all of the pent-up desire of the previous weeks. He kissed her until his lips had gone slightly numb, until he couldn’t breathe anymore. His hands roamed freely and aggressively over her body. Melia moaned into Luka’s mouth, and he pushed up against her, grinding his hips into hers, until Melia was panting and whimpering with want. He pinned her again and slipped his hands into her pajama bottoms. She was dripping wet, and his breath caught in his throat as he moaned into her ear.

  Luka pulled up and slipped a finger into her. He covered her mouth to stifle a scream. She bit down onto his finger gently and found herself pushing down to meet his hand. She wanted so desperately to give herself to him entirely, the thought of the proximity of her bed just there beyond the door only making that need more powerful. Only a few feet separated her from relinquishing all control to this man who had captivated her from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. The thought was immediately followed by the thought that in the room down the hall, Susan, Luka’s wife, lay attached to an oxygen mask. She broke away and looked up at Luka with a startled face. Luka saw her the way one saw a deer they were about to hit on the highway, and almost as quickly as the catastrophe would have occurred in real life, Melia broke away, hurried into her room and slammed the door shut.

  Luka stood looking at the closed door for a moment before snapping out of the hazy fog that had taken over his mind.

  On the other side of the door, Melia breathed deeply trying to steady herself. She tilted her head up and tried in vain to stop the tears. She crawled under the covers of her bed and began to cry, sexual frustration, guilt, and a deep unhappiness overwhelming her. The Rossiter’s house was the only real home she had ever felt she belonged to. She had grown to love and respect Susan. The love she shared with Luka was inspiring— and Melia had somehow gotten in between them. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling.

  Luka climbed into bed with Susan and looked at her sleeping peacefully. What had he done? He had crossed a line and there was no going back. He tried to convince himself that it was only lust. He retraced his steps and asked himself how he had gotten there. He had tried everything to keep her at a distance, to close himself off from her. He had lost control with Melia. He prided himself in being a person who was always in control of himself, but Melia had swooped in and destroyed his composure. He couldn’t think, couldn’t eat, couldn’t stand to be away from her — but her presence clouded his mind like nothing he had ever felt since meeting Sus
an. He glanced down at his sleeping wife, reminded again of how unfair life was. Fate had been cruel.

  He loved Susan, and she was dying.

  He was falling in love with Melia— and she was the woman who took care of his dying wife.

  Susan’s death would force them to part. Had he accepted his destiny? That he would be burying Susan shortly? Maybe this was his way of trying to move on.

  He felt wracked with guilt and wondered whether or not he should tell Susan. He had been faithful their entire relationship, had loved her unconditionally, had been mourning her since the prognosis became what it was. A momentary indiscretion threatened to send his wife out of this world with this as the last image of her husband. Not the loving, caring husband he had tried so hard to be, but the deceitful and adulterous cheater he now was. He thought back and hated himself for not lying to Susan earlier some weeks ago, and telling her that Melia had never showed up to her interview.

  But that would have required that he lie to himself and not admit that he had started to fall for her the moment she walked into his office.

  The next morning, Susan woke up in high spirits. “I want to go to La Jolla Cove, Luka.”

  “After what happened last night?”

  Susan waved her hand impatiently, throwing off her blankets. “I want to go to La Jolla Cove.”

  “Susan, you’ve been a bit weaker than usual. I don’t think going to the Cove is such a good idea.”

  “Luka.” Susan looked at him pointedly. “I’m dying.”

  Luka began to protest but she cut him off with a sharp gesture. “That’s the truth. Whether you want to accept it or not, this is happening. I am dying. I don’t want to spend the last of my days in this bed, under these covers — and outside there is so much going on. I want go to La Jolla Cove. Either you take me, or I’ll find a way to go by myself.”