Lancelot seemed equally surprised to see her, giving her the time she needed to gather her wits. “Um…hi there, I was just going out for a while.” She groaned inwardly at the sound of her weak and breathless voice.
She hid a grimace of disgust as she eyed him. Way to go, Gwen, why not just tell him what you’re up to.
By the expression on his face, he knew exactly what she was up to. Damn it to hell, she never could lie convincingly.
“I am afraid that would be a serious mistake.”
Gwen stiffened and glared up at him. “Am I to be kept against my will then?”
“If it means you are safe and out of Vance’s hands, then yes.”
Frustration to be so close yet thwarted of her quick escape filled her. “You of all people should be glad to get rid of me. Why are you doing this?”
Lancelot blinked in surprise at her accusation. “I have never wished ill of you, Gwen, why would you think that?”
“Because whatever your precious Arthur wants, you will move heaven or hell to see he gets it,” she accused, bitterness lacing her words.
“There was a time when you, too, would have done anything to keep Arthur’s favor.”
“That was lifetimes ago. Now I just need to learn to live with the ghosts of my past.” An aching sadness echoed in her words, recalling her lives with vivid intensity, threatening to drag her under. The heavy weight was almost too much to bear.
Could she live with the guilt of what she did and lost? So far…no.
All the times she tried to keep Arthur’s attention, to get his love. And then there was Lancelot. Standing before her once again, now the two images superimposed upon each other, and she blinked hard to erase the double image.
“You are not alright, Lady Gwen. You have been through much this night and need rest.”
She closed her eyes against the onslaught of images and fought the sudden weakness in her legs. She needed to get a handle on this and needed to do it now. “I must leave, Lancelot. If you want what’s good for Arthur, then you will stand aside and let me walk out that door.”
“It is not just for Arthur you need to stay. You also must come to terms with the past and perhaps then you can forgive Arthur for I know you still love him, you always have.”
Her eyes snapped open in surprise. Just what she needed, an ex-lover who thinks he’s Freud? She was so not going there and didn’t have the time or energy to be analyzed and definitely couldn’t mix the L word and Arthur in the same sentence.
Gwen evaded the white elephant in the room. “What about us? I recall your declarations of undying love for me on several occasions.”
Sadness shadowed his gaze, and she wanted to kick herself for being such a bitch. Without a word, he took her hands in his larger ones and led her to a large leather sofa. As she sat on the soft cushions, he crouched down beside her, his eyes riveted on her.
Oh, boy, by the look on his face she was in for a deep serious discussion, something she had very little time for. As she watched him sigh, she saw her chance at escape dwindle.
Damn it to the nine levels of hell, she really didn’t want to do this.
“I was very young and foolish in many ways back then. Yes, I did think I loved you, or I should say I convinced myself I did. You were so alone and vulnerable then. Arthur did his best, but the demands of a King outweighed the needs of the man.”
He hung his head, his hair. A glossy dark curtain fell forward, obscuring his face. “I am ashamed to say I mistook my fondness for you as something deeper than it truly was. My sense of honor got in the way. I was outraged for you. I hope one day you can forgive my callowness. Had I to do it again I would have done so many things differently.”
The earnestness in his deep voice tugged at her heart despite herself. He raised his head and oh, damn him. The pain and regret in his gaze stabbed at her heart as sharp as a blade. How could she be so self-centered, not to realize the hell, he must have gone through all these centuries? She couldn’t resist the urge to stroke a hand lightly over his cheek. She wanted to soothe the hurt she saw etched on his handsome face.
“I am so relieved to hear this, Lancelot. I also got lost in the moment. After so long ignored to find myself the object of a man’s attention was far too tempting to walk away from. Mordred prayed on this weakness, leading me on the road to betraying Arthur. What happened between us was as much his doing as ours, setting us up in a deadly chess game in which we all lost so much.”
Straightening her shoulders, she rose, letting her fingers brush through his hair. “That will not happen a second time. Thanks for being the friend I needed back then, and if you are the friend I need now, you will let me go. For Arthur’s sake, I am nothing but a distraction for him.”
“On that account you are wrong, Gwen.” He gracefully rose to his feet, grasping her hands in his. “I have spent countless years in Avalon waiting for the time I can atone for my sins against Arthur. If I allowed you to leave Arthur would do everything in his power to see you returned safely, even at the risk of his life.”
“Well, that explains why you look exactly the same, and the way you talk.” Gwen gave him a small smile. “But on this topic, I think we need to agree to disagree.”
“Well, well am I intruding on a touching reunion?” Viviane’s voice cut between them, sharp as a finely honed blade.
Lancelot dropped Gwen’s hands as she whirled around to confront the goddess. “It isn’t what you think, Viviane,” Lancelot defended.
“Oh, then would you care to tell me what I think it is?”
“It’s two old friends clearing the air,” Gwen spoke up first, giving Lancelot no chance to speak. “Not that it’s any of your business Viviane.”
“You’ve become insolent in this life. Have a care to who you are talking to,” Viviane warned.
“No, I’ve become wiser,” Gwen argued back. “I made a mistake in my past, but that mistake will not control me any longer. Part of healing is making amends when one can.”
Viviane’s smile never reached her eyes. “Is that truly what you are doing? From here it looked to be so much more.” She raised an imperious hand to halt Gwen from speaking. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say. My job is to protect Arthur and all who are under this roof. I remember quite clearly when you threw your lot in with Mordred, believing his lies. Now, here we are again, and once again, he is pursuing you.”
Gwen gritted her teeth, her hands fisting at her sides as she tried her damndest to keep her anger from getting the better of her. How many times must she be reminded of her stupidity in trusting Mordred? And to think she would do so again even if he wore a different name and body was beyond infuriating. “So you think history will repeat itself? Wow, you sure have a low opinion of me, don’t you?”
“Enough of this, Viviane, we are friends and nothing more.” Lancelot moved closer to Viviane, a puzzling frown marring his handsome face. “I have never seen you like this before, Viviane. Gwen has done nothing to receive the barbed end of your tongue.”
In that moment as Viviane gazed up at Lancelot, Gwen knew the real reason for her animosity. Shocked it took her this long to realize that Viviane loved Lancelot. She wondered if anyone else knew of the feelings she harbored for the man. Feeling much like a third wheel, she inched her way to the door.
“Um…I’m just going to take a walk down to the beach. I think you two have a few things to talk out.” Gwen heard Lancelot’s warning call to her, but she ignored him, whirling around for the door. She opened it and face planted into a very hard broad chest.
Fingers bit into her arms to steady her. “What the hell are you up to now?”
Her eyes flew up to Arthur’s suspicious gaze, and she bit her lip with sudden frustration. She should have read her cards this morning, and perhaps she could have prevented this scenario from playing out.
Yeah, like hiding in bed with the covers over my head.
Though she knew deep inside it would be no use to sa
y anything, she couldn’t stop her mouth from opening, and the words poured out, “I just wanted to go for a walk on the beach to clear my head and ran into Lancelot.”
“And I broke up what looked to be quite a tender moment between the two of them.” Viviane’s spiteful words hit the mark as she watched Arthur’s expression darken with rage.
“It’s not what you think,” Gwen defended, hating the feeling of déjà vu which sank into her with insidious clarity. She said those same words long ago. The only difference was now, they were the truth.
“As I told Viviane,” Lancelot interjected calmly, frowning at the goddess. “She was going for a walk when I happened to come in. We talked and made amends for the foolishness of the past. We are no longer the people we once were. We’ve grown and learned from our mistakes. If you can’t trust her, then how can you trust me?”
Arthur’s golden brown dipped low, hooding his eyes. “I do trust you, Lancelot, and because I do I will let it go. You, on the other hand, will tell me why you were leaving the property. This way leads to the front door, not to the beach.”
Gwen placed her hands on her hips and huffed, “I would know that how?”
“She has a point, Arthur.” Lancelot came to her defense again. The irritating habit of his would have gotten on her last nerve if not for the look of defeat in Arthur’s dark gaze. She relished the small feeling of victory.
Which vanished quickly and a calculated gleam appeared in his eyes.
Oh, damn, this won’t be good. Gwen watched him warily.
“If it’s a walk you want, then by all means let me take you for a walk on the beach. Please forgive me for being such a negligent host and not showing you around.”
“Um…sure. That would be nice. I think.” Gwen knew she sounded less than thrilled, which, by the small smile curving on those sexy lips, put Arthur in a good mood. The rat bastard.
“Come let me take you on that walk you were so determined to take.” Arthur pulled her close, draping her arm over his in a casual gesture. Only Gwen could feel the steel in his fingers as he held her firmly to his side.
“I changed my mind. I’ll just go back to my room.”
“Nonsense, you went to all the trouble to go for a walk on the beach so a walk on the beach you will get,” Arthur mowed over her protest, a challenge in his dark stare daring her to refuse him.
She took a quick look at Lancelot, who gave a slight nod, ignoring the frown Viviane threw her. She lifted her chin and returned her gaze to Arthur. “Fine, let’s take that walk.”
Chapter Nine
Darius followed behind Simon as he led Rhea through the hushed early morning silence through the hallway. Their steps muffled by the thick, carpeted runner beneath their feet. The enticing scent of Jasmine teased him as it wafted through the air, stirring his blood. The sight of Rhea’s gorgeous round ass swayed in front of him, making him hard with expectation.
Simon opened his door and stood to the side, an expectant gleam thawing his ice-blue eyes. Simon’s rooms were spartan, but tasteful. Off white tile spread throughout the room. A recliner, couch and coffee table stood at one side in colors of tan and brown. Matching drapes were drawn against the night. The soft glow of light spilled softly over the room from the recessed lighting overhead. A flat-screen TV dominated the opposite wall, and a wet bar stood by an open door leading into the bedroom beyond.
The tap-tap-tap of Rhea’s heels sounded loud in the heavy quiet as she crossed the threshold. She stopped by the coffee table, her grey eyes alight with some indecipherable emotion.
Darius felt the tension in the room ratchet up a notch as her voice went low and husky. “There is a strong attraction between you two, but I also sense frustration from you, Darius. I would like to help with that.”
“Help? And how do you plan on doing that?” Darius scoffed, making himself comfortable in the recliner, his gaze flicked back and forth from the two of them.
He heard the snick of the door closing in the charged atmosphere of the room, the sound a distinct reminder of why they were here in this moment.
As if he could forget.
“Rhea, you need to know where my head is at right now. No matter how I try to put this…need behind me, Simon plagues me to the point I can’t even get pleasure with a woman.” Damn, not what he really wanted to divulge and especially not in front of her.
“And you blame me for this?” Simon’s voice held a cutting edge.
“Yes…no, I don’t know.”
“Do you think I’m not as affected as you?”
“Are you?” Darius challenged, torn between beating his friend bloody and kissing him again.
“I’ve been dealing with this a hell of a lot longer than you have. Everyday an agony and you want to know if I’m affected.” Simon’s laughter held a hard edge.
“Well good for you. Should I give you a brownie button for your exemplary patience and long standing suffering?”
“Oh no, wait!” Rhea snapped, placing a warning hand up as Simon took an aggressive step toward Darius. “You really don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, yeah, I really do,” Simon growled low.
Darius shot to his feet, nearly plowing over Rhea as he closed the distance between them. His blood seethed with unspent passion, clashing with the churning anger to punish the one responsible for the out of control emotions plaguing him.
His fingers grasped the soft cotton of Simon’s shirt, hauling him chest to chest. Simon’s eyes widened in surprise, then lowered to half-mast as Darius’s lips crashed down in a punishing kiss. He felt an insistent tug on the leather tie at the nape of his neck, freeing the heavy mass of his hair to tangle in Simon’s fingers. His heart stuttered, then picked up speed, his pulse thundering in his ears. Acutely aware they were pressed tight chest to groin, his cock roared to life as he felt Simon’s answering response pressing hard against him.
He found his fingers spearing through the soft strands of Simon’s hair, angling his head so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue thrusting into the moist heat and feasting. Simon’s taste flowing over his taste buds was an addictive elixir he needed more of. His blood boiled with lust as Simon’s hands seared a path across his shoulders to his chest.
Darius heard the tear of cloth and the cool kiss of air on his bared back. Mindless of the torn tee shirt falling onto the floor, he reveled in the feel of Simon’s hands on his sensitive flesh igniting a firestorm of sensation cascading through his body.
Darius broke the kiss, his breathing, harsh and ragged. His focus locked onto Simon with single-minded purpose. He needed him naked, to feel skin on skin and right now!
He tore the offending cloth away, exposing a chest of smooth golden flesh, stretched taut over hard slabs of muscle and sinew. His fingers trembled slightly as he tore at his jeans, releasing his aching cock as they bunched at his ankles. Impatient, he toed off his shoes and kicked the offending clothing away.
He stood naked in front of the only man he ever wanted. His cock throbbed with need, growing harder, if at all possible, as Simon looked his fill.
“This is going to get good,” Rhea purred, her hands stroking over their chests.
“Get out of those clothes. I don’t want anything between us,” Darius rasped out, his voice a deep rumble. Grasping Rhea’s hand, he pulled her forward, his other hand dipped low over the firm globes of her ass. “Same goes for you, sweetheart, I want to see if you’re as good as you look.”
Simon gave him a lazy grin and did as ordered, tossing his clothes around the room in his haste. Turning his attention to Rhea, he helped her shimmy out of the skin-tight skirt and blouse. Darius watched the play of muscle as Simon helped disrobe Rhea, the urge to trail his hands over the flex and release of his powerful back almost unbearable.
Soon, but not quite yet.
Instead, Darius leaned in, nuzzling at Rhea’s throat while brushing a thumb against her lace-clad nipple. “Take the bra off, panties, too. I want nothing, but skin, got it?”
She moaned her agreement, her arousal spicing the air, mixing with the heady scent of her Jasmine perfume. With a flick of her wrist, the bra dropped to the floor, leaving her full breasts bare, tipped with dark pink buds.
“Beautiful,” he murmured appreciatively as his thumb made circular patterns against the tight nipple.
He watched as Simon went to work on her panties, his mouth following the trail of his fingers as he dropped the scrap of lace to her feet. Rhea gasped as he nipped at the neat thatch of hair covering her pussy. Simon’s heated gaze locked onto Darius as his tongue parted her pink lips, lapping up her cream with a groan of pleasure.
Rhea wreathed in Darius’s arms, hips moving in the rhythm of Simon’s tongue fucking. Darius shifted his attention to her breast, suckling one nipple while his other hand worked the other. Her whimpers and moans of pleasure filled the air around them.
Fuck, had he ever been so aroused? The erotic image of Simon going at Rhea filled his mind, seeing those same lips wrapped around his cock almost made him come right there. He wrestled with his control, beating it back. First, he needed to bring Rhea to orgasm, several times, before he would satisfy his lust for Simon.
He felt her body tighten in his arms, her breath hitched as she came closer to climax. Shifting so her back was to his chest, he pinched her nipples hard. Her back arched as the orgasm took her. A strangled cry tore from her lips as her body shuddered.
Darius smiled down at Simon, who pushed a finger into her channel, his mouth moving to her clit. She gasped, her knees buckling under her. Easing her to the floor, Simon never missed a beat, his finger thrusting in and out in a slow measured rhythm.
“Spread your leg’s further, sweetness, let me see that beautiful pussy Simon is loving.” Darius’s demand met an eager whimper of agreement as she spread her thighs wider. “That’s good, baby. Very good. Do you like being fucked in the ass? You have a great ass just made for fucking.”
“Oh, gods, yes…” Rhea gasped as another orgasm gripped her, crying out Simon’s name as her fingers clutched his head tighter to her, hips thrusting in time with his finger.
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