by Roz Lee
His lips didn’t move. His voice sounded as brittle as icicles. “Let’s not disappoint him then.”
“No, Drew,” she held a hand up to stop him when he made a move toward her. “This isn’t about what he wants. It’s about what I want.”
He stopped and she continued. “I want to sleep with you because I love you. I have to know more about this thing between us.”
“Dammit, Celeste. Take the collar off then.”
Her hands shook, and it took longer than usual to work the clasp. The solid band, hinged in the middle, fell away.
“Put it out of sight. When you’re in this room, you’re mine and only mine.”
Celeste placed the band on a table and covered it with a towel from the nearby stack.
“Show me how much you want me,” he said.
Chapter Twelve
“I told you why I’m doing this. Why are you?”
Drew went as still as a statue, and his face froze into an unreadable mask. Once again, Celeste cursed her misfortune to fall in love with a couple of spooks. If they didn’t want you to see their emotions, you wouldn’t. Her heart fell to her feet. He was hiding something, but she couldn’t begin to guess what it might be.
Her ears began to buzz as the silence in the soundproof room reached a deafening decibel level. Celeste remained focused on Drew. If she’d learned anything in her years with the DIA, it was how unnerving a direct gaze could be. If he wanted her, he’d break soon enough.
“I’m going to make love to you because I can’t help myself. I’ve loved you and wanted you for so long, and now you’re here, and it’s not in me to let you go.”
She knew him well enough to know what he said was true. There was something more, but if he hadn’t said it, he wasn’t going to. Celeste contemplated her choices. She could walk out now and never know for sure, or she could stay, and hope whatever it was he was hiding wasn’t going to drag them both under.
“Well?” he prodded.
Celeste dropped her sarong.
Drew followed her lead.
Her head spun, and her mouth went dry. In all the years she’d known Drew, she’d seen him in various stages of undress, but she’d never had the opportunity to just look at him like this. He remained statuesque, as if he understood her need to see him, all of him. Her eyes flicked to his shoulder. The bite mark that had sent her running the other day was gone. From this distance there was nothing more than a hint of a bruise where it had been. Celeste forced the memory from her mind. It had taken time, but she’d realized she had no right to judge him. How could she, when she was hopping from Sean’s bed to his. Fair was fair.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but compare the two men. They were both equal in height, but where Sean was lean and lanky, Drew was all brawn. She’d admired the width of his shoulders many times, and in the last few days, she’d had plenty of time to admire the heft of his legs as well. What she hadn’t seen much of, not like this anyway, was what was in between.
His skin was a honeyed bronze, except for a strip that began below his navel, and ended where his thighs met his hips. His cock jutted proudly from a nest of sandy brown curls in the midst of that lighter strip of smooth skin. Fully aroused, his cock was impressive.
“Seen enough?”
Celeste jerked her eyes to his. His eyes blazed with emotion. “Yes.”
“I’m not like him, Celeste. You’re an equal partner in my bed.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded intriguing. “Okay.”
Drew closed the distance between them, and a shiver raced along her spine when he was close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body. Now that it was time, alarm bells clanged in her head. What was she doing?
Then it didn’t matter anymore. Drew dipped his head, and his lips stopped a breath away from hers. “Come to me, Celeste.”
She didn’t think, didn’t question, as she moved toward him a fraction of an inch. Enough to press her lips to his. His arms slipped around her and wrapped her in a blanket of heated male flesh and muscle. She felt small and fragile. He touched her with deceptive tenderness for such a large man. She knew how deadly his hands could be, but he touched her as if she were made of spun glass.
“Drew…,” she pleaded for something she couldn’t name.
His lips caressed her neck before moving lower to lavish the same attention to her shoulder. He lifted her arm, and his lips followed the bridge it made all the way to her fingertips.
“Celeste.”
He weaved his fingers with hers and led her to the bed. She went willingly on trembling legs. Drew lifted the comforter, and she slid beneath it. He followed her to lie beside her.
“Touch me. You can do anything that pleases you. No restrictions. No commands.”
She wanted to touch him. Her palms itched to wrap around his cock. The sheet was cold against her heated skin. She slipped her hand between them and found his shaft. Drew sucked in a breath as her fingers closed around him, but he didn’t protest. His shoulders flattened against the mattress, and she scooted closer.
His cock was satin over living steel. She pushed the covers off so she could see all of him. There was nothing to fault. He was every inch a beautiful man, and for this one night, he was all hers. She glanced at his face and saw he’d closed his eyes. And, if the strain on his face was any indication, he was having a difficult time remaining still. Power raced through her system and heated her blood. She set about exploring every square inch of him.
Celeste touched, tasted and teased. Occasionally, Drew would twitch, or moan, or utter a mumbled curse word when her fingers, lips or tongue found a sensitive spot, but he made no attempt to stop her exploration. She admired his stamina and control. The other night when he’d taken the same liberties with her body, she hadn’t been near as stoic. In fact, she might have begged a time or two before he’d ended her torment.
She slid his cock between her lips and swirled her tongue around the head to capture the bead of pre-cum that had lured her to taste him. His hips rose off the mattress, and the string of curses that escaped his lips were clearly audible. Celeste thought to protest when his hands wrapped around her head and pulled her off, but she thought better of it and let his cock slide from her mouth.
In seconds, she was flat on her back. Drew joined her on the bed, parted her legs with his, and paused long enough to protect them both. He flexed his hips, and stopped with his cock poised at her entrance. She tilted her pelvis, urging him to come inside, but he retreated instead.
“Drew. . . . ”
“Tell me you want this.”
“I want this. I want you.”
He entered her, one slow inch at a time, until he was balls deep inside her. Her body responded to his, accepting, accommodating. Drew was gentle, and careful with her body. Every stroke was measured and precise, calculated to bring her pleasure. She gave herself over to the physical pleasure, but she knew something was missing.
Drew’s hands and lips touched all the right places. He was a skilled lover. No doubt, he’d had plenty of practice. Only a cold fish wouldn’t respond to his touch and the whispered encouragements against her sensitized skin.
“You’re beautiful, Celeste. Your skin is like silk.” His hands worshiped the soft flesh of her hip.
“Sweet berries…” His hand cupped her breast so he could taste her.
“God, you are hot and tight. . . . ” He pulled out of her and slid all the way in on one smooth stroke.
“I can’t get enough of you—”
“I’ve wanted you so long—.” His hands slipped beneath to cup her ass, and tilt her pelvis at a sharper angle. “You feel so damned good.” He drove into her harder.
Her body responded. Tension wound like a coil inside her. Drew buried his face in the crook of her neck and when the words vibrated through his chest and to his lips, “Ah, God, Celeste…,” her hold on the coil strained and broke.
Wave after wave of pleasure rocked
her. Blood roared past her ears, and she bit his shoulder to stifle the wild scream that rose in her throat. She knew the moment he lost control. Drew pushed off her so he was braced above her on stiff arms. Celeste saw his face, contorted in pleasure/pain. His thrusts came in staccato bursts, and with one final savage thrust, he came inside her. A sailor’s oath slipped from his clenched jaw before he collapsed on top of her.
Querido Dios, what have I done?
Drew rolled to one side, and they lay there, their breath coming in short, inefficient gasps. Celeste used the back of her hand to swipe at the slow trickle of tears escaping across her temples. It had been beautiful, mind-boggling, and wrong. So very wrong.
Recriminations and regrets blew through her mind like a tropical storm. How had she not known? What kind of idiot had she been? She thought of all the things she’d felt for Drew over the years. Desire, certainly. Love, definitely. Friendship, of course. She’d felt all those things, and more over the years, and somehow in her mind they’d become more than they were, more than they should have been.
Drew groaned and shifted his legs to a more comfortable position. For the first time, it occurred to her that perhaps he had experienced something more than she had, and panic set in. What the hell would she say to him if that was the case? Dear God, she’d screwed up again, and this time it might be beyond her ability to fix. “I’m sorry, Drew,” wasn’t going to cut it.
She couldn’t have been more surprised when Drew sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his thighs and dropped his head into his upturned palms. “What happened here, Celeste?”
Celeste said a silent prayer of thanks that Drew had known too that it wasn’t right.
“I don’t know. I honest to God don’t know.”
“I think I do.”
Celeste scooted up to rest against the headboard. “Enlighten me then.”
“You’re in love with Sean.”
Her heart did a somersault and landed upside down in the pit of her stomach. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry, Drew.” She reached out a hand to touch him, and he jerked out of her reach. “I’m sorry. All the things I said to you were true. They still are. I love you.”
“I love you too, but this won’t work. You and me, I mean. Not that you aren’t fabulous in bed. You are. But he was in bed with us. I can’t, won’t live that way.”
Oh God! Five years ago, Sean had accused her of the same thing. She knew how he felt now, because not only had she brought someone else into the bed this time, but so had Drew.
“I won’t deny it, Drew. I didn’t give you one hundred percent of me, but you didn’t give me one hundred percent either.” He looked over his hunched shoulder at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it. I did. You’re a wonderful lover, just like I knew you would be, but you weren’t all into it anymore than I was. We know my excuse, what’s yours?”
“Geez, Celeste. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell happened here tonight.”
She lifted the covers. “Come back to bed. Let’s sit here and see if we can figure it out.”
Drew crawled in beside her and took her hand. He threaded his fingers through hers and rested their intertwined hands on top of the covers.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Hell no. I may have just made a colossal mistake, but I’ve still got my balls, so I’d have to say no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Celeste couldn’t suppress her laugh, or the smile that came with it. Men. Talk was the only four-letter word they considered a curse word.
“That’s too bad. I was going to tell you how good your enormous cock felt, and what a magnificent lover you were.”
“You’re a riot. I don’t see what’s humorous about this.”
He was right. It wasn’t funny. For her, the decision was made, sort of. At least she knew a lifetime with Drew was out of question. That left Sean, if she wanted him. She pushed the insidious thought out of her mind. It could wait until she was alone, but Drew needed her right now.
“So, I take it that you don’t want me to move in yet.”
Drew dropped his head back, and it hit the headboard with an audible thud. Celeste glanced over her shoulder. His jaw was clenched, his eyes closed.
“It’s alright, Drew. I’m with you on this.”
“I love you, Celeste. I just never thought it would be like this between us.”
“Me either. But I have to say, it’s a huge weight off my shoulders.”
“Are you going back to him?”
Celeste let her head fall back and closed her eyes too. “I don’t know.” She gave Drew’s hand a little squeeze. “Whatever I decide, I want you to remain a friend.”
“I’ll always be your friend, but I’m not sure Sean will let me anywhere near you if he finds out about tonight.”
“Don’t worry about that. He knows.”
Drew jerked upright and turned to face her. “He does?”
“Well, I’m sure he suspects. He did order me to sleep with you. I’m sure he expected me to follow his order.”
Drew pulled his knees up and folded his arms across them. His head came to rest on his forearms. “Shit.”
Celeste couldn’t argue with that wisdom so she remained silent.
“I’ll talk to him.” He sounded like a condemned man ready to face his accuser.
“No, don’t do that. Let me tell him. I may not need to anyway.”
He turned his head without raising it and asked, “Why not? You aren’t going to lie to him are you?”
“No, I’m just saying, it might not be necessary to tell him anything. I’m not sure I’m going back to him.”
“Fuck.”
“My thoughts, exactly.”
Chapter Thirteen
They talked late into the night and finally fell asleep side by side. Drew woke, and in the complete darkness of the interior cabin, he lifted his wrist to consult his glow-in-the-dark watch. The motion brought to mind another morning when he’d crept out of a woman’s bed. He slid his feet to the floor, and found his sarong where he’d dropped it near the door the previous evening.
Celeste had known he’d held something back, and she’d tried her best to get him to spill his guts. He’d finally resorted to reciting his name, rank and serial number, and she’d relented. There was no way in hell he was going to tell her that his body had been with her, but his mind had been filled with images and memories of another woman. Hell would freeze over before he admitted that – to anyone. It had never happened before, and he didn’t know what it meant. He did know – Celeste deserved better.
Last night he’d made love with Celeste. On this, the morning after, he should have felt lighthearted, smug. Instead, he was confused. Celeste loved him, but not the way either one of them had believed. She was a beautiful, desirable woman, and given the opportunity, he’d take her to his bed again. Not that it would ever happen. Sean would kill him before he’d let him touch his woman again.
And that’s what Celeste was, Sean’s woman. Somehow, Drew had to make the asshole see that. He’d promised Celeste he wouldn’t tell Sean that Drew was out of the running. Drew figured Sean deserved to be left wondering for a couple more days. He had no problem letting the bastard squirm for a while.
The ship should be dropping anchor soon at the private island, and as planned, the three of them were to spend the day together. He didn’t have a clue how that was going to work out. In fact, he couldn’t imagine it at all. That’s why he was headed to the pool to see Sean. He’d think up an excuse to leave the two of them alone.
Sean’s body cut through the dark water like a shark scenting blood. Drew stood outside the dim lamplight in the pre-dawn and watched his friend. It amused him that Sean was such an avid swimmer, yet couldn’t abide the Navy. It was a shame. With his skills, Sean would have made one hell of a SEAL.
Drew moved into the yellow circle of light next to the pool
and waited for Sean to acknowledge his presence. With his arms folded across his chest, Drew leaned against the lamp pole and crossed one ankle over the other. Sean didn’t like to have his morning swim interrupted, so Drew anticipated a long wait. He counted laps, knew Sean kept him waiting on purpose, as his friend completed his tenth lap, and instead of stopping, executed a perfect turn and kickoff move.
It all happened at once. Drew saw it through a slow-motion lens. He shrugged his shoulder and pushed away from the lamppost, preparing to leave Sean to his swim. It would be easy enough to talk to him when he returned to the stateroom. Drew uncrossed his ankles, and the deck tilted beneath him. He grabbed for the lamppost and missed as a wave of pool water sloshed over the side of the pool and swept him off his one foot still in contact with the deck. He hit the deck like a stone, and slid toward the starboard railing like a fish over a dam.
Drew registered the dangerous angle of the deck as the scraping of chairs and tables across the painted deck surface, the groan and grind of metal stretched to its limits, glass shattering at the nearby bar, and screams from the few people awake at the early hour, met his ears. In the Navy, he’d been on ships tilted at worse angles, but they’d been in the midst of hurricanes, not in the middle of calm seas. He slid to a stop against the Plexiglas railing and instinctively reached out and wrapped a hand around the nearest rail support. His back hurt like a son-of-a-gun as he used his other hand and his feet to push back the tangle of overturned tables and chairs surrounding him. Then he remembered Sean.
He fought the first wave of panic and scanned the debris for his friend. He found him, prone on the deck, his arms stretched above his head, clinging to the lamppost Drew had been unable to grasp himself.
“Sean! You okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Fine, I think. What the hell happened?”
“Fuck if I know.”
The ship began to right itself. Drew held on to the rail support until the deck was once again at a safe angle, and then he used the support to heave himself off the deck. Sean rolled to his back and then to his feet at the same time, like the two of them were connected by invisible strings.