Eyes Wide Open

by Lucy Felthouse

  “No thanks. I’ll keep an eye on her while you’re doing that.”

  “Okay.” James left the bedroom, and Fiona, still bleary-eyed, watched him go. Then, with some difficulty, she shifted her focus back onto Logan.

  “I’m sorry,” she forced out, her tongue feeling thick and furry in her mouth. “You should’ve just taken me back to my room.”

  Logan shook his head. “Nope. Not happening. You scared the crap out of us. One minute you were ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the sights along with us, and the next minute you could hardly stand. You’re staying right here where we can keep an eye on you, to make sure you’re not sick or anything. No arguments.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

  Apparently satisfied, Logan turned to the chest of drawers and pulled out a set of pajamas. Fiona raised her eyebrows. She’d never seen either Logan or James in nightwear before. They usually wandered around naked or pulled on a pair of boxers or a robe if they were going to answer the door.

  Hmm, seems even über-sexy businessmen wear comfy jammies.

  Closing the drawer, Logan carried the items over to the bed and placed them down beside her. “You want me to help you?”

  “I’m all right, thanks,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if it was true or not. She hadn’t tried to stand since attempting to get out of the limo, so she had no idea whether she’d be able to now. Figuring she didn’t have to discover that just yet, she tucked her knees up to her chest and removed her shoes and socks, smiling gratefully as Logan whisked them away and placed them on a chair.

  Then she removed her checked shirt, fumbling with the buttons as the alcohol continued to affect her coordination. Biting her bottom lip in the hope that it would sharpen her up a bit and stop Logan having to step in and help, she finally got the top off. Now it remained to be seen whether she could get her jeans and knickers off without hitting the deck.

  “Come on,” Logan said kindly, holding out his hand. “Let me help you. There’s no need to be proud.”

  “Think I’m a bit beyond that, don’t you? I’ve made an utter fool of myself tonight.”

  “You’ve done no such thing. You just made a mistake, that’s all. We all do. We’re only human. Now stop bringing yourself down and do as you’re told. I can still boss you around, even though I’m not going to spank that luscious arse of yours.”

  “Y-you’re not?” Confusion wavered its way to the forefront of her mind.

  Logan’s expression turned incredulous. “No, I’m bloody well not. You’ve had too much to drink, sweetheart, and we’re going to look after you. So that means there’ll be no kinky business and no sex tonight. You know how I feel about sober playmates.”

  She did. He was always very careful to pay attention to how much alcohol she and James consumed, and he rarely had more than one, himself. Sometimes it bugged her, but she reminded herself that he wasn’t being overbearing, or a control freak. He was looking out for them, just like he was looking out for her now. She should be grateful he was so considerate and caring.

  Taking his hand, she shuffled to the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle off the mattress. She was just sliding toward the carpet, hoping her legs held her up once she got there, when James reappeared with her coffee. He placed it down on the bedside table, then grabbed the pajama bottoms from the bed, unfolding them and holding them up, ready.

  She cringed as her feet found the soft fibers of the carpet and she locked her knees. Logan never released his hold on her. She wove slightly, causing Logan to grab her around the waist, but her legs held.

  “You all right?” Logan said, looking her in the eyes.

  “Yeah, I think so.” The world’s still a bit fuzzy, mind.

  “Okay. Hold onto my shoulders if you need to.”

  Just to be sure, she took him up on his offer, gripping his muscular shoulders as he knelt down and made short work of undoing her belt and flies, then pulling her jeans down. He helped her to step out of each leg in turn, then did the same with her knickers. Once her mound was bared, she couldn’t help the embarrassment that still flooded her body, despite her drunkenness. She’d gotten used to being naked and in various states of undress in front of the two of them, but this was different. They were getting nothing out of this—or they wouldn’t be, anyway. They might like what they were seeing, but Logan had said sex was off the agenda.

  They still had each other, though. Perhaps as soon as they’d fed and watered her and she’d gone to sleep, they’d head into the other bedroom and fuck each other’s brains out? She was so desperate to sleep that she doubted she’d hear them, not even if they were super-noisy and they left the internal doors open.

  Disappointment lanced through her, but she forced a smile onto her face as Logan collected her now-discarded jeans and underwear and moved to put them on the chair, too.

  James appeared in front of her, brandishing the pajama bottoms. “Let me help you put these on, sweetheart.”

  Nodding, she now held onto his shoulders as he knelt in front of her, lifting each of her feet in turn to put them in the pants, then pulled them up. They were much too big, so James used the ties at the waist to cinch them tightly, then rolled up the legs a little so she didn’t trip over them.

  “Okay.” He patted her outer thighs in a fond, platonic fashion, making her heart sink further. “Sit down and we’ll get this T-shirt on you, too. Do you want a robe, or are you going to get under the covers?”

  “Under the covers,” she said in a small voice. Of course she was going to choose that option. It meant she could pull the duvet over her head to hide herself and her overwhelming mortification. There was no judgment in either of the men’s eyes, but it didn’t stop her embarrassment.

  Perching on the mattress, she let James put the T-shirt on her, then shuffled back toward the center of the bed. Resting back against the pillows, she decided not to get into the bed properly yet, as she’d probably need to use the bathroom soon.

  James handed her the mug of coffee.

  “Thank you. You’re both very kind.”

  “Nonsense. We’re just doing what any decent person would do,” James replied.

  A knock came at the door, and Logan left the bedroom to answer it.

  Fiona sipped at the cooling coffee, hoping that Logan was right and that it would keep her awake long enough to get herself sorted out. When Logan came back into the room, he brought with him the mouth-watering scent of chips. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it, her cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry.”

  Smiling, Logan said, “Don’t be sorry, just listen to your stomach and get as many of these down you as you can manage. They’re cheese-covered chips. I hope you like them. If not, let me know and I can order something else. Or if you’re still hungry, I can order more.”

  “No, that’s fine. I actually love the chips from here. They’re thick cut, twice fried and utterly delicious.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Logan said, handing her the plate, then grabbing one of the thick strips of hot potato, a string of cheese stretching through the air, growing thinner and thinner before finally breaking. “It’s why James and I spend so much time in the gym while we’re here. The food is just so damn good that we eat too much of it!”

  Glancing between them, her eyebrows raised, Fiona said, “Well you don’t look bad on it, it has to be said. How do you think I feel? I bloody well live here. It’s a good job the salads are delicious, too, otherwise I’d be the size of a house!”

  James chuckled, also reaching out to grab one of the chips. “Stop being ridiculous and get them down you while they’re still nice and hot. Then coffee, then water and painkillers, then sleep. All right?”

  “Sleep, yes. Great.” She fell silent then, except for the occasional contented moan as the unhealthy yet tempting and delicious snack tantalized her taste buds. She polished off the entire portion, then thanked Logan as he took the plate away and handed the coffee back to her.

  Downing what wa
s left, she made to get up.

  “Whoa,” James said. “Where are you going?”

  “To the bathroom.”

  Stepping back, he replied, “You going to be okay?”

  “Yes. I’m feeling much better already, actually. Less drunk, more utterly exhausted.”

  “Good. Well, don’t lock the door, just in case.”

  Barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes—he was just looking out for her, she reminded herself—she nodded and entered the bathroom. After using the toilet, she flushed it, then washed her hands and rinsed her face. The result was a mass of smeared mascara. Cringing, she raided the cabinet, sighing in relief as she found the posh makeup remover and cotton pads that resided in every cabinet in every room. Well, until the patrons took them home whether they’d been used or not, that was.

  Removing every scrap of makeup and throwing away the soiled pads, she grimaced at herself in the mirror. It was just as well sex was off the menu tonight—the boys would probably take one look at her bare face and run screaming from the room.

  Pleased that she was at least feeling a little more human, she went back into the bedroom to find Logan placing a pint glass full of water and two white tablets on the bedside table. “Here you go,” he said, flashing her an adorable smile. “Get those down you, then we’ll tuck you up in bed.”

  A minute later, she was settling beneath the thick duvet, her eyes closing almost before her head touched the pillow—in spite of the black coffee. It had served its purpose—making her lucid enough so the men could take care of her. And boy, had they taken care of her. So patiently that she knew she’d have to find a way to pay them back for their kindness.

  “Thanks, guys,” she mumbled, hoping they heard her through the duvet.

  She was holding onto the last vestiges of consciousness when she felt the mattress dip on either side of her. They were joining her, huh? Rather than going into the other room and having some naked and horizontal time? Crazy.

  They were really taking this looking after her thing seriously, weren’t they? She grinned, secure in the knowledge that they couldn’t see her face. It was nice, having two gorgeous blokes taking care of her. Really nice. But she shouldn’t get used to it. It wouldn’t last forever. Things this good never did.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Fiona woke up, several things hitting her at once—the fact that she couldn’t see, or breathe particularly well, and that she was boiling hot. Flinging the duvet off with her hands and feet, she immediately realized her mistake.

  Or her stroke of utter genius, depending on which way you looked at it. Once her brain had helpfully supplied a reminder of what had happened the previous evening, telling her why she’d been hiding beneath the duvet, she took in the sights she’d uncovered by her half-asleep duvet-throwing action.

  James and Logan had apparently spent the entire night nestled up beside her, and, probably through some sense of propriety, had chosen to don boxer shorts, rather than sleep naked. She’d have preferred naked, but the view as it was wasn’t half bad. The underwear in question was tight enough to show off what was underneath. And there was plenty more male flesh on display for her to feast her eyes on.

  She was having a damn good time doing just that, raking her gaze up and down the finely muscled bodies, when she had a surprise. Once she reached Logan’s face, she found him peering right back at her, a lazy and amused smile on his face. “Good morning, lightweight,” he teased.

  Instead of caving in to instinct and giving him the finger, she flashed him what she hoped was an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Logan. I really didn’t mean to get like that last night. I had no idea it was happening. I’ve well and truly learned my lesson, that’s for sure. Thank you so much for looking after me. I appreciate it.”

  “That’s okay,” he replied, stretching like a big cat, his long limbs seeming to take over the bed. “It’s no problem. It’s partially my fault, I suppose, for not making sure you’d eaten something before we went out.”

  Fiona shook her head vehemently. “No, don’t you dare blame yourself. I’m an adult. It’s my own stupid fault. And, like I said, I’ve learned my lesson. No food, no booze. Simple as that.”

  “Fair enough.” He shrugged, then swung his legs around and hopped off the bed. “I’m going to put some coffee on. You want some?”

  “Yes, please. I’m just going to use the bathroom. Won’t be long.”

  “Take as long as you like. Well, not too long, otherwise your coffee’ll get cold.”

  He smiled before sauntering out into the main room. She watched him go, his high, taut buttocks bobbing up and down as he walked. God, what she wouldn’t give to dig her nails into them as he pounded her pussy.

  Shaking her head at the inappropriateness of her thoughts, she too hopped off the bed, heading for the bathroom. She was surprised to discover that all her limbs were in perfect working order and that she didn’t have so much as a headache. Clearly the coffee, chips, painkillers and water combination had done the trick. She deserved to feel like shit. Instead, she’d gotten extremely lucky.

  As she used the toilet and freshened up, Fiona decided she’d have her coffee, then get changed back into her own clothes and make her excuses to leave. James and Logan had been incredibly selfless in looking after her, despite her ruining their evening. The last thing she wanted to do was put a dampener on their Saturday, too. It wasn’t fair. They deserved some time alone together, to work off some of the sexual frustrations they’d built up in the club. James, especially. At least she and Logan had had an orgasm apiece before the limo had whisked them off into the night. Poor James had to have blue balls.

  Raking her fingers through her hair, which had transformed overnight into some kind of blonde bird’s nest, she tugged and untangled it until it was vaguely presentable, before leaving the bathroom.

  “Morning, gorgeous,” came James’ voice.

  She looked over at the bed. He was settled against the pillows, cradling a mug of coffee.

  “Good morning,” she replied. Her cheeks flushed as some of the embarrassment came creeping back. She was fully aware of what a mess she looked, and it didn’t help that the two of them, with the exception of a spot of bed-head, could still easily grace the pages of a fashion magazine. Bastards. How was it that men could wake up looking as sexy as they did when they’d gone to sleep?

  “Logan’s just on the phone, ordering some breakfast. Warm croissants okay?”

  Her stomach grumbled in response, and she hoped like hell the sound hadn’t carried across the room. “Perfect, thanks. Though I can sort myself out some breakfast back in my room.”

  “Nonsense. He’s ordered it now. And your coffee’s just there.” He pointed to the bedside table. “Have some before it gets too cold.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a small smile, grabbed the coffee and settled into the chair next to the one that still held her neatly arranged clothes from the previous evening. “Mmm… This is great.”

  Logan came back into the room, mug in hand. Standing next to Fiona’s chair, he stroked her hair gently with his free hand. “Feeling okay this morning, sweetheart?”

  Nodding as she swallowed the mouthful of coffee she’d taken, she then replied, “Surprisingly, yes. You two and your magic combination clearly worked. I’m pretty sure I should be feeling like death warmed up right about now. But, other than a spot of tiredness and a whole lot of embarrassment, I’m good.”

  Rolling his eyes, he replied, “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Fiona, honestly. You’re okay. We’re okay. No harm done whatsoever. Breakfast’ll be here in a few minutes, by the way.”

  “Yeah, James said. Thank you. I’ll get going once I’ve eaten, I think.”

  “There’s no rush, sweetheart. James and I have no plans this morning. Stay as long as you like.”

  No plans? They obviously didn’t intend pouncing on each other as soon as her back was turned, then. “No, it’s okay. I need to get going. Get show
ered, clean clothes and whatnot. I might go for a run and clear my head.”

  Logan glanced at James, then back at Fiona. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. It looks like it’s going to be a nice day. Would you have any objections if we joined you?”

  Objections? No. Confusion? Yes. Why aren’t you desperate to see the back of me after last night?

  “No, of course not,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “Great! Cool—we could do that, then get showered and changed and head back out to get the fetish gear I mentioned last night. Then maybe grab some lunch somewhere?”

  God, he seemed to be planning out an entire day together. It was obviously what he wanted, though, otherwise he wouldn’t be suggesting it. “Sounds good to me. Though are you sure you don’t mind, James?” She didn’t want James to feel he had to go along with it, just because Logan had said so.

  She and Logan looked over at him, still relaxing against the pillows. “Nope, I’m happy with that. The perfect Saturday, if you ask me.”

  Fiona frowned. “Really? You’re easily pleased.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well.” She cleared her throat, wondering whether she could say what she really meant. “Wouldn’t you prefer to spend some time, you know, alone together? Without me?”

  Now it was James’ turn to frown. “Um, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer that. Obviously I want to spend time with Logan, but not necessarily alone or without you. I enjoy your company, Fiona, and so does Logan.”

  “What’s brought this on, Fiona?” Logan asked, moving her clothes to the floor and sitting down in the now-empty chair beside her. “Why do you suddenly think we might want to get rid of you?”

  “I—I dunno, really.” She took a sip of the coffee, buying herself some time to think, to formulate an answer. She swallowed, then continued. “It’s just you two are in a committed relationship, and I’m just…”

  “Just what?” Logan said gently, reaching over and taking her hand. She turned to meet his eyes, the intensity in the baby blues almost making her lose her train of thought. “Fiona? Tell us, please.”