Love Me Twice

by Roz Lee

  Going back to where they’d left off wasn’t the answer. Somehow, she needed to get Sean to talk about what happened, maybe then they could put it behind them. That’s the only way they could move forward.

  He arrived at exactly the specified time. She smiled as she moved to the door. At least that hadn’t changed. Her breath caught in her lungs at the sight of him. Everything in her body screamed for her to throw herself at him, but she pointedly ignored the pleas and stepped aside.

  He’d changed to a white sarong, a passenger issue variety. It hung low on his lean hips, barely concealing the impressive package she knew was beneath it. The white made his skin look darker, and the loose sarong added an aura of casual decadence she’d never seen in him before. He stepped past her in the close confines of her economy cabin. She closed the door and rested her forehead against it for a brief second, willing her body to be strong.

  “Hello, Celeste.”

  She sucked in a calming breath and turned. “Sean.”

  “I brought you something.”

  He raised his hand. A silver band lay across his palm. Her knees grew weak, and her pussy flooded.

  “You brought me a collar?”

  “Yes. You’ll wear it when you’re with me.”

  She made it to the one chair in the room before she collapsed. “In public?”

  “Yes, in public.”

  Before, she’d worn his collar in the privacy of their home, but never beyond the front door. Their games had been theirs, private. She couldn’t contemplate what this new demand meant. She stared at the solid loop. “I. . . . ”

  “You will do as I say, Celeste.” He said it, emphasizing the word will, in that tone that overrode all her dominant circuits, and made her putty in his hands.

  She fought to gain a foothold on her sanity. Liquid heat pooled between her legs. She wanted to wear the collar, wanted to give in to his demands, wanted – everything his presence promised. But if five years had taught her anything, it was that she could be strong when she needed to be.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I know. We will, but you’ll wear my collar while we do it.”

  He took a step toward her. He’d always done this too her, robbed her of all good sense. She watched his hands work the simple clasp and open the band. He came closer. Heat radiated from him like an inferno.

  “Look at me, Celeste.”

  She tilted her head so she could see his face. The question was in his eyes. He silently asked her permission. She closed her eyes in answer, and he closed the cold band around her neck. One fingertip brushed the top of the band, and then skimmed the pulsing artery on the side of her neck, then along her jaw to her chin.

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

  He gazed at her with a love she hadn’t seen in years. Her heart swelled, and tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t imagine giving him up again. The thought of it was enough to make her heart stop.

  “I love you, Celeste. I always have.”

  “I love you, too. I always will.”

  “Do you remember your safe word?”

  Not that she’d ever had to use it, but she nodded. “Glock.” She’d chosen it because she promised she’d kill him if she ever needed to use it.

  He smiled that quirky half smile that made him look almost boyish, before his lips covered hers. His kiss was sweet, a welcome home, unlike the one he’d given her earlier. Now she understood that one was a message to Drew. She was his. An image of Drew watching as Sean claimed her lips flashed in her mind, and she broke the kiss.

  “We need to talk.”

  He stepped back, and his hands dropped to his sides. “So you say. We can talk over dinner.”

  “Promise me, Sean. Promise me we’ll talk. We can’t pick up where we left off. That wasn’t a good place. We have to talk about what happened.”

  His gaze was focused on the collar around her neck. “Promise me, or I’m going to take the collar off.”

  His eyes jerked to hers. “I promise. We’ll talk. We’ll eat. Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

  She wasn’t sure she could walk now, but his blunt speech threatened her resolve. “Maybe.”

  She allowed him to take her elbow and lift her from the chair. Her feet moved in step with his. She was aware of a few stares as they traversed the hallways and common areas. Collars weren’t unusual on the Lothario. She’d seen a few, but mostly it seemed, the passengers played at domination and submission. The room service menu had a variety of collars listed, none of which were anything like the one she wore.

  He seated her at a secluded booth in a small restaurant. He took the opposite seat. She suspected it was so he could see the collar around her neck, as opposed to his consideration for her needs. Whatever the reason, she was glad for the distance. It made it easier to think.

  They ordered wine and cheese and waited in silence until the waiter returned. Sean declined to go through the wine ritual, taking the proffered bottle and waving the waiter away. He filled their glasses and set the bottle to one side. He relaxed in his chair and took a sip.

  “Talk.”

  Patience never had been one of his virtues.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t be dense, Sean. Why did you let Drew join us?”

  She’d been haunted by that day for five years. The events that transpired had changed their lives, and none of them had dealt with it well.

  “Neither one of us thought we were going to get out of there alive. Drew and I talked about it before they threw you into the room with us. Then, when they brought you in and made you strip in front of them, I, we, well. . . we knew they would kill us eventually. As soon as they took your clothes, you were doomed. They kill women for showing ankles, and you were naked in front of half a dozen men, none of whom were your husband. Drew and I were dead men then. We would have died defending you.”

  “So,” she drew out the syllable, “what? You decided to share me?”

  “Sort of. It wasn’t something we planned. If you remember, as soon as they left you alone with us, you threw yourself at me. To be honest, I didn’t think we had anything to lose. I knew the bastards were watching, but I didn’t care. I wanted you one more time before they killed me.”

  She remembered that day, vividly. He was right. They were going to kill her. As soon as they figured out she was female, she knew she was going to die. She’d wanted Sean as badly as he wanted her. One last time.

  She told him so. “I wanted you so much, I forgot all about Drew being in the room. I knew the bastards who took my clothes would probably be watching, but I didn’t care about that, either.”

  Sean picked up her train of thought. “I fell into that chair and you came down on top of me. We were both pretty far gone, and I remember looking over your shoulder, and Drew was there, watching us. He was in love with you, and I could see it was killing him to watch us. We didn’t need words to communicate. We’d worked together in tight situations before, pardon the pun,” he smirked, “so I invited him to join us. Besides, you needed a distraction. I didn’t want you to dwell on what was going to happen to us.”

  So, that’s the way it happened. No prior discussion. No bartering. Not like today, when they’d tossed a coin for her. She’d wondered if it had been some sort of macho, dying wish sort of thing. Now she knew. It had been, but no despite his words to the contrary, it had been her dying wish, not theirs. They had done it for her.

  She’d been riding Sean like he was a rodeo bronc, and then his big hands had covered her ass and held her still. She could still remember his whispered words in her ear, “Let Drew love you too.” Drew put his hand on her shoulder, and she knew what was going to happen. She’d dropped her forehead to Sean’s shoulder and waited while Drew unfastened his pants and freed his erection.

  “Relax, sweetheart. Let Drew love you, too.” The words slipped from his lips in a murmur of regret.

  As distractions
went, it had been a good one. Celeste shook off the memory. “Then we were rescued.”

  “I’ve never been happier, or more disappointed, to see a bunch of United States Marines in all my life.” Sean tilted his wine glass to his lips.

  “Me either.” She shuddered as the reality of their situation hit home. “They were going to kill us.”

  “Yes, they were. But they didn’t, and when we got home I fucked it up for all of us.”

  “Why? What was wrong with the way things were?” She knew better than anyone did, what had been wrong. She’d brought Drew into the bedroom with them, even if he was only in her heart and her mind. Sean had known it.

  “I thought I was losing you, and it scared the shit out of me. I never dreamed you would leave us both.”

  “I couldn’t stay. If I did, I’d have to choose between you, and I couldn’t do it.”

  * * * * *

  The last thing he wanted to do was relive that day, but the woman across the table meant more to him than anything. She was right about one thing—they needed to understand what had happened, and put it behind them.

  A waiter returned. Sean ordered without looking at the menu. He knew everything available, down to the last radish. Celeste took her time ordering, and he allowed the memories to surface for the first time in years.

  The three of them had worked together for several years. They were a team, and he and Celeste had been lovers for a good portion of their time together. He hadn’t known Drew was in love with her, until that fateful day in the godforsaken desert when they’d been captured. They’d separated them, he and Drew were taken to a room in a bombed out hotel, and left there to wait and wonder what had become of Celeste. She wasn’t military, but she’d been well trained by the CIA, and as the team’s translator, knew enough languages to understand what her captors planned for her. He and Drew had been out of their minds with worry, and that’s when Drew told him how deep his feelings were for Celeste.

  Drew was Navy through and through, and being Army himself, they’d been like oil and water when they’d first been assigned together at the DIA. Then Celeste had joined them, and the two men found a new focus for their competitive natures. Sean had won the battle, and he’d never given any consideration to what that had cost Drew, until that day. With nothing left to lose, Drew had told him.

  When their capture was imminent, they’d tried to make Celeste look as masculine as they could, but no man on the planet would mistake her for a man. When the bastards had separated them, he thought he would go insane. Drew had saved him, talking about Celeste as if she had only stepped out to get a gallon of milk at the corner store. The conversation had distracted him from the horrors he knew could befall her, and his impotence at not being able to save her.

  When they brought Celeste in, and he had to watch her strip in front of all those leering desert rats with their automatic weapons, it had been Drew who held him back. Alive and humiliated was better than honorable and dead. Dead, he couldn’t do anything to help any of them. Drew. The fucking Navy SEAL saved all their lives that day. Drew had managed to keep a cool head, and because he had, they’d all lived long enough to be rescued. It still grated that he owed his life to a water baby.

  Shit. Celeste was right. It was time to let it go. Drew was his best friend, his business partner, and he owed the man his life, pure and simple. Had he issued the highhanded order to Celeste, thinking she would choose Drew and in some way that would be payback for their lives? Or had he simply wanted to get Drew out of the bedroom, one way or the other?

  He downed the rest of the wine in his glass and refilled it while Celeste questioned the waiter about preparation methods and seasonings.

  Celeste had run. She’d resigned and disappeared without a word to either of them. Not that they couldn’t have found her. What did she call them? Spooks? They had resources, but neither one of them had been confident enough of her feelings to go after her.

  He studied her across the table. She was still the stunning beauty she was back then. Her green eyes sparkled with life as she bantered with the waiter. His cock throbbed with the need to be inside her again. No woman had ever made him feel the way she did. None had ever submitted to him the way she did. She was so strong in her professional life, but in the bedroom, she was his in a way few could understand.

  The collar gleamed in the glow of the artificial candlelight. Platinum. He’d bought it with the bonus money they’d received for a job well done. Never mind they’d almost been killed, and had to be rescued by the fucking Marines. Before their capture, they’d completed their mission, and for that, they were amply compensated. He’d carried the collar with him ever since. Not that he would have ever placed it around another woman’s neck. It was for Celeste, and only Celeste.

  He’d kept it with him as a reminder of all he’d lost. Of how stupid he had been. It had taken years to realize it, but now he understood. He loved her more, not less, because she was capable of loving two men at the same time.

  They were still on shaky ground. Would she choose between them now? If she didn’t, would he share her with his best friend, or would their love for the same woman be the end of their friendship?

  What if she chose Drew?

  “Dear God,” he whispered.

  “I thought you stopped praying a long time ago.”

  He held the empty wineglass in his hand, staring at it as if the last drop of burgundy held all the answers. With great care, he placed it on the table and glanced around the restaurant before settling his gaze on Celeste.

  “I did.”

  “What were you thinking about? You left for a while.”

  “I was thinking about that day. About us. About the things we said to each other before you left.”

  “I wasn’t at my best then.”

  “Neither was I. I owe you an apology.”

  “Me, too. I shouldn’t have left, at least, not the way I did. I should have stayed and talked to both of you. Maybe we could have worked it out.”

  He refilled his wine glass and topped hers off too. “I don’t think so. Not then. We were all still pretty raw. I don’t think I was ready to hear anything except that you were mine, and only mine.”

  “I’m still not sure I can say that.”

  “I know. That’s what this week is about. It’s time, Celeste. Time for us to either end it or move forward. I have to know.”

  Chapter Four

  They finished dinner, not without a few laughs regarding the radish roses used for garnish. Sean let her in on the story, telling her how the chef had gone ballistic about the dubious quality of the radishes, and their unsuitability for cutting into roses. It had fallen on him to find suitable replacements—something Drew reminded him of at every opportunity.

  They’d always been easy together, and it was good to know that hadn’t changed. Celeste watched Sean. She catalogued the new lines on his face, and remembered how he’d gotten the small scar near his left ear. They had a lot of history together, and she’d never be able to let that go completely. But the intervening years had changed them both, maybe in a good way, maybe not. That had yet to be seen.

  All through the excellent meal, she was aware of the band around her neck. It was more substantial, certainly more expensive than the one she’d worn for him years ago. He’d insisted she wear it in public. A first. So far though, he hadn’t dominated. He’d been kind and considerate. He’d even talked about the day that changed their lives. She had a better understanding of it now, but that didn’t make it any easier to decide between them.

  They’d done it for her. Nothing like another shit-load of guilt to add to the pile already on her shoulders.

  They walked after dinner. Sean’s hand on the small of her back was possessive, but reassuring at the same time. She drew strength from him, something he had an abundance of. It was tempting to lean into him, let him carry some of her burden, but she couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

  Eventually, they came to the Art Gall
ery, a long and narrow interior room that doubled as a shortcut between mid-ship and the Parthenon Buffet. Piped in classical music made it a relaxing place to be, a quiet interlude on a ship where quiet was at a premium. The art was surprisingly well done. It ranged from what appeared to be authentic centuries old paintings and etchings, to modern photography and sculpture. All of it fit into the Lothario’s erotic theme.

  Sean followed her from piece to piece, and then he left her. Metal scraping on metal alerted her. She rose from examining the signature on a painting to see Sean close and lock the door at one end. He moved with the grace of a jungle predator to the far end and secured the door there as well. They were alone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving us some privacy, unless you’d prefer to have an audience?”

  He didn’t mean. . . . She put an erotic sculpture between them.

  “Come here, Celeste.”

  Her core melted at the familiar command. How many times had he said those words, and how many times had she obeyed? Too many to count. No, I won’t give in, I won’t submit. She knew it was a lie as her feet betrayed her.

  She skirted the sculpture and closed the distance between them. His familiar scent weakened what little resolve she had. Standing toe-to-toe, she closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight of his bare chest so close and not touch him.

  As if he read her mind, his voice rumbled low, “Touch me. Put your hand on my chest.”

  She hesitated. She wanted to touch him, but once she did, all was lost, and she knew it.

  “Now, Celeste.” His voice strummed the taut wire inside her, and the old, familiar slide began. She’d given him complete control many times, and by accepting his collar tonight, she’d known he would demand her submission, and that eventually, she would comply.

  She opened her eyes and watched as her hand came to rest in the center of his chest. His heart beat steady against her palm, making her want to disrupt his maddening control. Heat radiated through her hand, along her arm and spread through her like a wildfire.