Love Me Twice
Page 1
Table of Contents
Love Me Twice
Reader Alert!
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About The Author
Red Sage Publishing
An eRedSage Publishing Publication
This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the author’s imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental.
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Love Me Twice
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Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
Love Me Twice © 2011 by Roz Lee
Cover © 2011 by Rae Monet
Printed in the U.S.A.
ebook layout and conversion by jimandzetta.com
Love Me Twice
***
By Roz Lee
TO MY READERS:
I’m so glad you’ve picked up LOVE ME TWICE, the third book in the Lothario series. Sean Callahan has been brooding in the background since THE LUST BOAT first set sail, as I took my time deciding the best way to tell his story. So many of our American heroes work in the shadows, and Sean is one of them. That his personal life has been lived in the shadows too, only made him dearer to me. I knew he needed a happily ever after more than any character I’ve ever dreamed up, so I set out to give him one! Little did I know, Sean’s happiness would depend on two others from his past. When I realized this, I was determined to give them a happily ever after as well.
Many thanks to my husband of over three decades and my wonderful daughters who put up with my imaginary friends, and believe in my ability to tell a good story, even when I don’t. A special thanks to Kevin who helped me with the military knowledge I needed to bring Sean and Drew to life in my mind, and to Karen, my number one fan, for her unwavering support and cheerleading.
I hope you enjoy your voyage aboard the Lothario. Come sail with me again soon!
Reader Alert!
What’s a woman to do when she’s in love with two extraordinary men and they want her to choose between them? Run. That’s what Celeste did. Stuck on the Lothario with Sean and Drew, Celeste realizes postponing the decision five years hasn’t helped one bit, and they aren’t helping any either. They’re both doing everything they can to convince her to choose them.
Prologue
Location - Classified
Five years ago.
“Let Drew love you, too.”
Celeste froze. Sean’s words, spoken in a whisper as coarse as the desert sand, sent a shiver of arousal along her spine and a chill of certainty to her heart. Ever since the three of them had been captured in a border region no sane American would travel, she’d known the hourglass of their lives was swiftly emptying, and no one was going to turn it over, not this time. They’d made a fatal error somewhere along the way, and no matter how badly the DIA wanted the information they’d collected, no one was coming to rescue them.
Only certain death would compel Sean to issue such a command. The tiny spark of hope she’d clung to ever since their capture flickered and died. She’d been questioned in broken English, and still, she’d hoped. She’d heard her fate decried in a language her captors had no way of knowing she understood, and still, she’d hoped. She’d been cursed, stripped in front of half a dozen armed men, and still, she’d hoped.
When she’d thrown herself, naked into Sean’s arms, she’d known their captors would be watching, but she hadn’t cared. Let them look. Let them see what real love was. All that mattered was being with Sean one more time, feeling him inside her, knowing that no matter whether there was an afterlife or not, the love she had with Sean would live on. She’d needed to celebrate life and love, for whatever time they had left. Sean had known, had fallen into the chair and taken her with him. He entered her with one strong thrust.
She looked into the eyes of her team leader and her lover. They’d faced grim circumstances before and she’d never seen that look, both compassion and goodbye. Love for Sean thawed the chill that went bone deep, despite the oppressive desert heat. He knew. She’d thought she’d hid it well, the love she had for Drew, but Sean knew, and offered her this final gift, to have both the men she loved before it was too late. Infidel spies could not be allowed to live.
Celeste searched Sean’s face for regret and found only sincerity and love. It was a final gift to her, and to Drew. She saw it in his eyes, knew it in her heart. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and rocked her hips against his pelvis in acceptance. His cock surged inside her tight sheath. She nodded her head and let her hands fall limp at her sides as she let her mind slide another notch closer to the oblivion she sought. Sean would keep her safe. She could relinquish control to him. He knew what she needed, and she trusted him to provide it. She always had.
She rested her forehead on Sean’s shoulder, the solid muscle evident beneath his rough cotton camo shirt. His familiar scent reassured, comforted. His hands slid from their resting place on her hips, down and around, to cup her butt cheeks. She willed her body to relax as he spread her in invitation.
No words were spoken between them. Celeste’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. The rasp of a zipper pierced the roar of blood racing through her veins. Then Drew’s hand closed over her shoulder and his breath brushed against her ear. “Celeste?”
She searched for words, found none. Instead, she bit her lower lip and nodded.
Drew found her hole with his fingers and guided his cock to the spot. Celeste held her breath as he pressed against her.
“Relax sweetheart, let him in,” Sean crooned against her ear. The command in his voice eased her all the way under. His hands squeezed her ass in a reassuring manner as Drew breached the outer ring of muscles. She took a shuddering breath, and he slid deeper.
Drew’s hands stroked her back as he filled her, one slow inch at a time, until his hips cradled her. Sean’s hands slid away, relinquishing that part of her to Drew.
Drew. She’d loved him almost as long as she’d loved Sean, but they’d never been lovers, something she regretted now that time had run out. The three of them had been a team for years now. Where Sean was assertive and domineering, Drew was gentle and followed orders without question. Sean planned. Drew executed those plans. They each held a part of her heart, and somehow, Sean had known.
Sean’s hands closed over her breasts, his fingers tweaked her nipples to hard peaks. Sensation overwhelmed her. It was impossible to think about the outside world, to contemp
late their future, or lack thereof. Her every thought focused on the two cocks inside her, filling her with their love. And that’s what it was. She was sure of it. Both of these men loved her.
They moved, setting a slow rhythm, stroking her, filling her. Sean’s hands were rough, demanding. Drew’s were gentle, coaxing her to relax and accept all her lovers offered. She lifted her head and let her eyes meet Sean’s. He smiled at her. The love in his gaze emboldened her. She turned her head and leaned to one side. Tense lines creased Drew’s brow, but his lips curved into a tender smile.
Drew took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face to his. She thought to turn away, but he held her firm for his kiss. His lips were dry as the desert air, but he kissed her like she was an oasis, and he was dying of thirst. Something jumped against her hand and she realized with a start that it was Sean’s heart beneath her palm. What must he think, watching Drew kiss her, feeling Drew’s cock filling her in tandem with his own?
She broke the kiss and stroked Drew’s jaw with trembling fingers. With her eyes and her touch, she let him see her love for him, a love unspoken and doomed to remain so. He deserved to hear the words from her, especially now, but they lodged in her throat. No matter how much she loved Drew, she could never say it. She could never do that to Sean.
Sean reached for her chin, turned her to him, and took her lips in a rough kiss. His generosity only went so far. He reclaimed his woman. His hands found her breasts, and then his mouth took over. His tongue teased. His teeth nipped, and then his tongue swooped in to soothe. With one hand on her hip, and the other framing her breast, he held her where he wanted her.
Celeste wrapped her arms around Sean’s head and clung to him while his mouth lavished attention on her breasts. Drew’s hands made gentle sweeps over her shoulders and down the plane of her back. She sucked in a breath as he grew bolder. One hand snaked around her waist and splayed over her stomach, the other claimed her free breast. His fingers explored her nipple, sending shockwaves of awareness to her abdomen.
She couldn’t think. Her world came down to feelings—the oppressive heat in the bombed out hotel where they were being held—the gritty chafe of stiff clothes against her skin—the fullness between her legs—hands, lips, breath against her skin. To love.
With two cocks buried deep inside her, Celeste clung to the here and now, clung to the affirmation of life in these, their last moments on earth. She had no doubt the desert rats who held them captive would dispose of them in the most heinous way possible as soon as they were through with them. If she could only have one memory to take to her grave, she wanted it to be this, the feel of her lovers' cocks bringing her as close to heaven on earth as she’d ever get.
Drew’s fingers found her clit. She couldn’t suppress the moan that rose from her throat to blanket them in a sensual haze. Time stood still. Her nerves stretched tighter than a trip wire. Sean’s fingers dug into her hip, grounding her, as Drew’s finger flicked her swollen nub. Pleasure exploded within. Her inner muscles clenched around her lover’s shafts. A scream rose in her throat as she went into the free fall that would take her to that place where only love existed. Sean pulled her head down and swallowed her cry of ecstasy. His lips devoured hers. She sensed the tension in his body as he too took the dive. A moment later, Drew followed them.
The explosion stunned her. Drew left her first, pulling out so quickly she thought a part of her soul had been ripped away, and then Sean lifted her to her feet, gaining his almost as quickly. Only then did she realize the explosion had been more than internal. Gunfire erupted, came nearer with each volley. Sean and Drew, working as one, pushed her naked form behind them as the door burst open. Someone produced a sweat stained T-shirt to cover her. They paused long enough for her to don it, and then they were off.
The next hour went by in a blur of running, ducking, and gunfire as the contingent of United States Marines led them from the clutches of death, into a hell they couldn’t yet imagine.
Chapter One
Five years later. . .
Celeste suppressed the moan that rose unbidden to her lips. Fingertips, strong and gentle massaged her scalp in a slow, sensuous rhythm, coaxing her taut body to release its tight grip on the hectic world she’d left behind. She swallowed the moan, and let the pent-up tension slip away on a silent sigh.
She drew warm perfumed air into her lungs. The exotic, sweet scent made her think of a tropical paradise, somewhat at odds with the Greek temple motif of the Lothario’s spa. Covered with two thin, soft cotton strips that barely concealed her most private parts, she should have been self-conscious, if not cold. She idly wondered if there had been something in the wine she’d been given when she arrived at the spa. It wasn’t her nature to allow others to touch her. She wasn’t the touchy-feely type, not by a long shot.
Soft music, flutes perhaps, soothed hypnotically. If she was a suspicious person, and she was, she’d think it was deliberate. Amazingly, she didn’t care. So what if she’d been drugged and/or hypnotized? As long as the talented fingertips massaging her scalp, and now her feet, continued, she couldn’t care less. Even that shocking realization couldn’t penetrate the sensual haze that enveloped her.
Since setting foot on the Lothario less than four hours ago, Celeste had given little thought to the reason she was there. She’d been warned about the ship, and its erotic theme, but nothing she’d been told came close to preparing her for the reality. Within the first hour, she’d witnessed public sexual acts that would earn you a night in jail in any city in the United States, and a few that would have raised eyebrows in Amsterdam.
The ship’s appointments were surprisingly luxurious, and the Greek Mythology decor was done with an eye for detail. Someone had done their research, and then spared no expense to bring it to life. The spa was no exception. Everything, including the white towels with their exquisitely embroidered edges, fit the theme.
An attendant replaced the cooling rocks on Celeste’s upturned palms with new, warm ones. At first, she’d smirked at the hoity-toity spa therapy. Then soft hands had stroked her arms and wrists, and one by one, her clenched fingers had unfurled. After the most erotic hand massage she’d ever had—admittedly, the first and only hand massage she’d ever had— a smooth pebble had been placed on each open palm. Even though she’d wanted to close her fist around the hard object, its heat had sapped her strength until she lay exposed and vulnerable, and totally without a care for her safety. A first.
She vowed to find the underlying cause of this phenomenon, but later, much, much later. Time ceased to exist. Celeste succumbed to the sensual onslaught, drifting, floating, as if in a sensory deprivation tank, but instead of deprivation, sensations bombarded her body. So much so, her mind shut down in order to process the incoming stimuli, hypnotic that it was. She hadn’t been this close to subspace in years. Not since. . . . She ruthlessly stifled that train of thought.
She’d become accustomed to the fingers roaming over her body, applying pressure in the most delicious places, releasing years of tension, and leaving her muscles nothing more than putty in their wake. She’d need a litter to get back to her cabin, but couldn’t find the energy to care about that, either. Later. She could figure it out later.
It took her brain a few seconds to register the change. What kind of drug could make it seem so real? How did the drug reach into her deepest, most sheltered memories, and dredge up the exact feel of his fingers on her skin? And how did that memory become so alive that she could feel his heat tracing the pulse at her wrist, along the faint blue vein on the soft underside of her arm to her shoulder? The point of heat didn’t stop there. Soft as a whisper, it continued along her collarbone to the small indentations at the base of her throat, and then it dipped lower, and lower, until it slipped beneath the strip of fabric draped over her breasts.
Her nipples hardened as the terrycloth scraped across them. Celeste clawed her way up from the outer edge of subspace. This was no dream, no drug ind
uced hallucination. This was real. She’d know that fingertip anywhere. Sean.
Sean Callahan. The only man she’d ever considered giving up her career for, and the only man capable of making her body want. Everything.
Sean was here. Now.
Cazzo!
It took every bit of control she could muster to remain calm. Fully aware now, she noted the massage had ceased. That could only mean one thing. She was alone with Sean Callahan. Her brain fired on all cylinders. She should have known. Should have anticipated he would be here, after all, his brother Ryan owned the ship. Why hadn’t she checked before she agreed to this ridiculous mission?
Had she hoped he would be here? Of course not. The last she’d heard, Sean had a successful business, providing high-end security for some of the world’s richest people. Not necessarily the most visible people. If you had enough money, you could buy invisibility.
So why was she lying here letting Sean look his fill, and she almost choked on her own spit as Sean tweaked one nipple and sent a flash of red hot need to her vagina—letting him touch her? Oh God. His big palm curved around her breast and rolled her ample bosom, testing, before moving to the other one and repeating the process. He’d always been a breast man. If he was in the mood, he could amuse himself for a long time with a pair of breasts. He’d driven her mad more times than she could count, driven her to beg.
Mère de Dieu. Mother of God, she was in trouble.
Her fingers curved over the smooth rocks weighting her palms. She should brain him with them. How dare he take liberties with her body? She’d revoked his rights to her person years ago. Her brain knew it, but her body seemed to have forgotten. Her nipples ached for his lost touch, and the smell her own arousal mingled with the heavy floral scent permeating the room.