Love Me Twice

by Roz Lee

  Drew crossed the room and stopped in front of her. He took her hands in his and eased her from the chair to the bed. She rose like a soggy sail after the boat capsized, and let him guide her without protest. She didn’t have anything left in her; she’d dumped it all when her emotional boat tipped over. Drew seemed to know what the confession had cost her, and he simply helped her stretch out on the bed and came down beside her.

  His arms closed around her, and the warmth of his love blanketed her. She made no attempt to stop the tears that continued to fall silently, soaking the pillow they shared.

  Chapter Eight

  God, he was the worst kind of ass. In all the years Celeste had been gone, he hadn’t once considered how difficult the whole, sordid affair had been on her. He doubted Sean had either. He fully intended to set Sean straight, but right now, the woman sobbing in his arms needed him.

  He held her until the tears dried, and her body began to relax in his arms. He wanted her, couldn’t help his body’s response to her soft curves so close, yet so far beyond his reach. She turned to her back and reached for him. The look in her eyes, so lost, so needy, battered his defenses. After what she’d just admitted, no way was he going to make love to her and confuse her more, but he could ease the ache he saw in her eyes.

  “Let me love you tonight, Celeste. Let me touch you.” He rose on one elbow and let his free hand stroke from her throat to her stomach. Her eyes never left his, and he knew she was searching for answers there, answers he didn’t have.

  “I won’t hurt you, I promise. I just need to touch you.”

  “Drew.” His name fell from her lips, a question, an invitation.

  He managed to unfasten the belt at her waist holding the toga in place. The shimmering gold fabric shifted and spread like hot butter to cover her. Drew flattened his palm over her stomach and flexed his fingers. The fabric slid along her skin, and her stomach muscles tightened beneath his palm.

  “May I?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes closed and she turned her face to his shoulder. Beneath his hand, her torso melted into the coverlet and her thighs relaxed. The sweet scent he knew was hers and hers alone, made his nostrils flare. Need curled through his gut and clawed at his insides.

  Drew ignored his need and concentrated on the woman lying open and willing beside him. She needed this. Needed to be loved, to have her love affirmed in this way. He’d love her the way she deserved, even if it killed him.

  Slowly, he relaxed his fingers and let the crumpled fabric slip from his hand. With his index finger, he commanded the thin veil of gold to bunch to one side, and slide over her hip to pool on the bed. It caught on one taut nipple as if to preserve some fraction of her modesty.

  Drew stared. Other than the brief moment in her cabin, he’d never really seen her lovely body. He knew every line and curve of her back, had memorized those details on that fateful day, but Sean, and the fucking Marines, had denied him the opportunity to see all of her. Now, she was his. His heart rumbled like an angry thunderstorm in his chest as he studied the perfect flesh before him.

  She was everything he knew she would be. Soft, gently curved, cream skin and coffee at the juncture of her thighs. She’d trimmed her pubic hair. His fingers drifted over the soft fuzz and recalled reaching around her that day, finding her curls and holding her still so he could enter her from behind. The memory, and the image he’d conjured in his mind, wasn’t anywhere near the perfection before his eyes now.

  Celeste moaned low in her chest and spread her legs, inviting him to explore further. God, he wanted to. He would, but not yet. It took a great deal of effort to move his hand over her stomach and the gentle concave of her waist to her ribcage. Her perfect, ruby-tipped globe rose gently with each breath she took. He cupped her breast and it fit into his hand like a fragile teacup. The weight of it reminded him how much smaller she was than he.

  Celeste was anything but fragile. He knew big, burly men who would have broken under the strain she’d been subjected to on some of their missions, but she’d handled it all. It humbled him to think love had been the one thing that had broken her and sent her running.

  She shifted, arching her back, encouraging him to touch. He splayed his hand over her ribs and eased her to the mattress.

  “Shhh. Let me look. I’ll ease the pain soon darlin’. I promise.”

  His words had the desired effect, and she relaxed again. Drew slid his index finger under the stubborn bit of cloth that clung to her other nipple, and with the smallest nudge, sent it slithering off. He sucked in a harsh breath and it caught in his lungs.

  Another memory assailed him. He’d entered her, slow. One excruciating millimeter at a time, until he’d been seated balls deep inside her sweet ass. He’d used his hands to ease the tension from her shoulders and back, and slid his hands along her ribcage to cover these same breasts with his hands. He vaguely remembered encountering Sean’s hands there, but he’d backed off and let Drew hold her. All that remained of that memory was the feel of her in his palms and the whisper of Sean’s voice, commanding her to give herself to Drew.

  He closed his eyes and let this new sensation wash over him and replace the old memory with one that didn’t include her other lover. Tonight she was all his, though he knew Sean was still in her head, and her heart. Tonight he would banish the bastard from her mind, at least for a few minutes. He could give her that at least, a few minutes of peace.

  He brushed his thumb over her nipple and watched it harden further. With infinite care, he took the turgid peak into his mouth. She tasted like heaven, and the way she arched her back, offering him more, was enough to send him over the edge. He ruthlessly reminded himself this wasn’t for him. This was for Celeste. It did nothing to dampen his need, but it allowed him to focus his energy on making her feel good.

  Making her feel. It became his mission. His goal in life. If he could ease her mind through her body, then it would be payment for what she’d given him, once. He wasn’t good with words. Didn’t know the ones that would convey how much he’d needed her that day. Once he’d entered her, if the desert bastards holding them had offered him his life if he’d leave the heaven he’d found inside her, he’d have told them to go to hell and traveled that road himself, rather than remove his cock from her ass.

  How could he tell her that?

  He couldn’t, but he could show her how much pleasure a body, her body, was capable of.

  Drew worshiped her breasts until she writhed beneath him. Pleading words spilled from her lips, but he ignored them. He wouldn’t take her tonight, not in that way. Denying himself pleasure, while giving her all she could handle, was his gift to her. Eventually, he left her breasts, and his lips traveled across the landscape of her body, teasing, tasting, tantalizing. She begged. She fisted her hands in his hair and tried to dislodge him.

  He held fast, tasting every inch of her. Time was his to command, and he willed it to stand still so he wouldn’t ever have to let her go. At long last, he wedged his shoulders between her thighs and found the heaven he’d craved for so long. She was wet, dripping with need. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled the scent of her arousal. If someone could bottle that scent, no man alive could resist the woman who wore it.

  Her fingers dug into his scalp, and his name fell from her lips. He flicked his tongue out and tasted her. Her hips rose, and he lost his mind.

  Drew buried his face in her sweet heaven. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and held her prisoner to his whims. Nothing on earth or sea could have shaken him from his purpose. His tongue was merciless. He licked, sucked, and drove his tongue into her honeyed channel, driving her up, up, up.

  Just when she was about to go over, he switched tactics. He grazed his teeth over her clit and drew it between his lips, devouring, taking, giving, and driving her to the mountaintop he knew she could reach.

  She was lovely. She was wild. She was his.

  “Please.”
His name came from her in short, breathless pants now. “Drew.” Pant. “Drew.” Gasp. “Drew.”

  When he was certain he’d driven the other bastard she loved from her mind, he let her come. He sucked her clit hard and drove two fingers into her heated depths. He pressed up, seeking the spot that would break past any barrier she might still put in his way.

  She thrashed against him, and he knew he’d found it. He pressed again, and again, adjusting the pressure from his mouth to coincide with the movement of his fingers insider her.

  Her climax came with the force of a hurricane. He held fast and rode out the drenching tidal wave of her pleasure. When her body calmed, he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of each thigh and slid his fingers from her.

  He dropped to her side. Celeste curled into his chest and clung. He wrapped her in his arms. A shiver ran along her spine, and he reached for the corner of the comforter and pulled it over them. She relaxed in the warmth of their cocoon, and long moments later her breath evened out in sated slumber.

  * * * * *

  Celeste drifted up slowly from the depths of a bone-deep sleep. A warmth encircled her that she recognized as Drew. She inhaled his unique scent. Her body remembered the way he’d made her feel, the way he’d taken her out of her confused mind to a place where none of that mattered, a place where only pleasure existed. A place much like the subspace she achieved with Sean, but different. She couldn’t explain it better than that, it just was.

  Drew. So tender. So kind. He’d given her everything, and taken nothing. Her hand, trapped between them, sought and found his erection. His toga had slipped to one side allowing her fingers to wrap around satin-covered steel, earning a groan from him. His hand covered hers.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know. I want to. Let me love you, the way you loved me.”

  His hand remained on hers, prohibiting her from doing anything more than touch him.

  “Celeste . . . ”

  Her name on his lips was all the encouragement she needed. She pushed him to his back, and threw the comforter off so he was displayed before her like the Greek god he was costumed as. His cock rose from a tangle of sandy brown hair, enticing her to see more. Over the years, she’d seen him shirtless more than a few times. Men had that luxury. But she’d never seen all of him at once.

  The toga posed no problem. It slid away as easily as her own had, leaving him exposed to her gaze. She recognized a few scars she’d seen before and traced them with light fingers. Most, he’d acquired as a Navy SEAL, but a few he’d earned while in the DIA. Where her job had been mostly analysis and translation, his had been decidedly more dangerous. Her heart lurched at the flashes of memory, the times both he and Sean had flirted with danger and death, and thankfully come out on the winning end.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Drew groaned at her comment, but didn’t argue as her fingers continued to explore. She couldn’t help making comparisons between the two men she loved. They were as different as night and day in every way except basic anatomy. They were both extremely masculine, both strong and hard muscled. But where Sean was dark and as sleekly muscled as a shark, Drew was fair and had the body of a prize-fighter. Even so, she knew they would be equally matched it they were inclined to brawl.

  She worked her way up, inch-by-inch, touching, learning, and tasting when the desire struck. He lay still, except for a few shudders of pleasure when she touched, kissed or licked a particularly sensitive area. There was a time when Sean had allowed her to touch him this way, but that was so long ago it seemed as if it happened in another life. She nipped at the hard ridges of his abs and reluctantly moved on to his pecs.

  A new scar on his shoulder stopped her cold.

  “Drew?”

  It took a moment for him to realize she’d stopped, but when he did, he opened his eyes.

  “What darlin’? You’re doin’ good.”

  She resisted the urge to slap him silly.

  “Drew…” She put a hand on his midsection and pushed upright, earning a grunt from him. Before he could recover, she pointed an accusing finger at his shoulder. “Who did that to you?”

  The bite mark was recent. A purple and yellow bruise spotlighted two dental impressions good enough to make a positive ID. His hand flew to his shoulder to cover the evidence.

  “It’s nothing. Really.”

  “Drew, ent khanzeer.” She scrambled from the bed as if she’d found the other woman hiding under the covers. “You’re a pig, Drew,” she translated.

  “Let me explain.”

  “I don’t think you can explain that,” she waved a hand in the general direction of his shoulder “but go ahead. This I want to hear.”

  “I haven’t been celibate for the last five years. I won’t apologize for doing what comes natural, but she doesn’t mean anything to me. I love you. I have needs, Celeste. So does Sean. If you think either one of us gave up sex because you were gone, then you’re wrong.”

  “You’re a piece of work, Drew. No, I didn’t expect either one of you to give up sex. But at least Sean had the decency not to bring evidence of his other lovers into bed with us.”

  He’d managed to crawl out of the bed and stand next to it, a few feet away from her. Her rational mind told her there wasn’t a woman on the planet who would turn down a few minutes in his bed, but her heart told her there was more going on than he was admitting.

  “Honest, she didn’t mean anything. You were with Sean, and she was there, and I…”

  “Last night? You were with her last night? After the three of us made our pact? That’s disgusting, Drew.” It didn’t take long to find her toga, but it took more concentration than she had to figure out how to get it back on. She fumbled with the slinky material while Drew wrangled his own into place. She managed to cover enough vitals and headed to the door.

  “Celeste! Wait!”

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She expelled some of her anger on a long breath and turned to him. “For what? Is she coming here too? Is this where you take all your women?” She opened the door, stepped through and looked over her shoulder at him. “I need a shower.”

  “You wore his collar.”

  The comment, thrown like a poison dart at her back, stopped her in her tracks. She spun around, incensed. “How do you know that?”

  “I saw you, this morning.”

  She scoured her memory for any instance where Drew could have seen them. “The pool.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t mean to. I was walking through on my way to the stateroom. Anyone could have seen you. Jesus, Celeste! He fu. . . took you in public. He had no right.”

  “You’re wrong, Drew. He had every right. I gave him the right when I accepted the collar. I knew what I was doing, the risk I was taking.”

  “You’ve worn it before.”

  “Yes.” She wouldn’t apologize for the choice she’d made. It had been the right one for her and she thought for Sean too. Last night he’d tried to be someone else for a while, Drew maybe, but this morning, in the pool, he’d been the lover she remembered. Commanding. Possessive. Dominating. Her blood heated at the memory.

  “He’s a bastard for doing that to you.”

  “Maybe. But it was with my permission. Always, with my permission.”

  * * * * *

  How could something so beautiful turn into something disgusting and revolting in such a short time? Celeste scrubbed her skin until it glowed pink. Men. Pigs. There was little enough difference between the two. She’d been willing to overlook the coin toss to see who would get her first, but this was too much.

  She toweled off, put on the skimpy nightwear provided, and slid into bed. Anger churned inside like a vile brew and threatened to make her sick. Of course she knew they had fucked other women. They had too much testosterone to abstain for long, but was it too much to ask for them to keep their conquests out of this. . . this. . . whatever the hell it was?

  A game. It was a sick game. Two
horny boys fighting over one girl. One very confused, very miserable girl.

  Chapter Nine

  Sean paced the cramped security office. Drew was a dead man. The soap-on-a-rope had taken Celeste to one of the fetish rooms last night, and unable to get the security camera inside the room to work, Sean had kept a vigil on the hallway camera. A few hours ago, Celeste emerged and he’d followed her to her cabin, done the unforgivable, and spied on her in her room.

  He had no idea what Drew had done to her, but by God, the pervert was going to pay for it with his life. Drew had reduced Celeste to tears. Not tears of joy—angry, hurt tears. He had no idea where Drew had gone. He wasn’t visible on any camera. There were only a few places not video wired. One of them was Ryan’s stateroom. If the bastard was there, he’d haul his ass to the balcony and throw him overboard.

  Sean barged into Drew’s bedroom as Drew stepped from the shower. Drew grabbed a towel and began to towel off, heedless of the danger he was in. Sean couldn’t have cared less about Drew’s privacy. He stopped in the open bathroom doorway. “I think I’ll kill you.”

  Drew continued to dry off. “Not if I kill you first.” He threw the towel into the corner and faced Sean.

  They’d squared off before in the interest of training, but this was different. Anger and testosterone levels guaranteed an ugly outcome to this confrontation.

  “I’d like to see you try. Come on, squid. Give it your best shot.”

  “I’d like nothing better, Sean. You’re a goddamned dirt-eating, perv. You put a collar on her for Christ’s sake, and you took her in public. You’ve got no gripe with me.”

  “The hell I don’t. You took her to a fetish room, and she left this morning in tears.”

  “Spying on us? I thought you’d retired from the spook business.”