KnightsOfPleasure SKelly_Nook Page 6

  She made do with instant coffee, warming water in the convenient little microwave she discovered in the tiny kitchenette. There was creamer in the fridge and a few leftover raspberries.

  Seating herself at the small round table in what was probably intended to be a breakfast nook, Susannah watched the sun come up over the Maryland countryside and as the caffeine hit her brain cells, she took stock.

  Item one. She'd just had, and been had by, two men.

  Okay, not something that had been in her to-do list, but she wasn't about to get taken out and shot by the sexually conservative police force. It wasn't a crime. In fact, it had been amazingly awesome. So, inhibitions, get over yourselves and move on.

  Item two. How the fuck was she supposed to move on?

  Item three. Were there any rules for morning-after behavior with two men? How did one tell them both they were great while making sure nobody got preferential praise? If she looked at Logan first, would Tyler get pissed off? What about exchanging phone numbers? Meeting up again?

  Urgh. Item four. Did she want to repeat this experience?

  She stared blankly out the window, not knowing the answers to any of the questions she was asking herself.

  It was, to use a hackneyed excuse, complicated. And now she had a much better understanding of the true meaning of that word. She'd hated it when her girlfriends used it, but it worked here, now. And summed up the situation concisely. It was just no fucking help.

  A thought darted across her mind. The smartest thing she could do right now, right at this moment, was get the fuck out of Dodge. Creep silently down to her car and scram like an apparition fading at dawn.

  But that would be the coward's way out, of course. Even though it would save her a lot of what she could only perceive as awkwardness.

  Her hand reached for her bag and her car keys, but as fate would have it, she'd left it too late.

  "Mornin' beautiful. Is that coffee I smell?" Tyler strolled into the kitchen, dropped a kiss on her head and wandered to the cupboard.

  "Make that two, will ya?" Logan yawned his way into the small space, filling it with the energy of two sleepy, rumpled and happy males.

  Susannah threw up mental hands and cursed herself for thinking too long.

  "Good morning." She stood. "I've made myself a cup. Hope you don't mind."

  "Not at all, babe." Tyler stared at the microwave. "Glad you feel at home."

  She sucked in a breath but said nothing.

  Logan heard her, though. "What is it, Susannah? You okay this morning?"

  His gaze pinned her and she could feel him trying to see inside her mind. It was the weirdest thing. "Yes, I'm okay."

  "No, you're not." Logan frowned. "Let me get my coffee. We need to talk."

  She chuckled and strolled to the little counter, leaning on it as the men sat down at the table. "Go ahead. Caffeinate your brains. I know I can't think until that first one hits the neurons."

  There was silence for a minute or two, punctuated only by sips and sighs as the first blissful waves of caffeine began to work their magic.

  "Okay." Tyler leaned back. "Let me say this right off the bat. You, my dear, are one incredible woman."

  "Double for me." Logan nodded. "Last night was beyond belief. Record-book magnificent."

  Susannah thought carefully, choosing her words. "Me too. No arguments there, guys. Both of you cared for me and showed me things, made me feel…well, it was the most amazing sex I've ever had."

  They grinned, not quite smugly, but close enough.

  Susannah bit back her own wry smile. Tell a guy he's hell on wheels in bed and he'll be your slave forever. Sophie's words came back to her. That girl was right on the money.

  "So the problem is…" Logan encouraged her, making gimme gestures with one hand.

  "I don't know what to do now."

  "Uh." Tyler blinked. "Come back to bed?"

  "She doesn't mean now now, asshole. She means in the weeks ahead." Logan snorted disdainfully at Tyler, then glanced back at Susannah. "Right?"

  She nodded. "Yes. Kinda. I'm not good at this kind of talk. I don't know what to say or what to ask." She took a breath. "I'm really confused by this. Physically it was great but I'm afraid it may mess me up a bit mentally."

  "I can sort of understand that," said Logan. "We're used to it. We enjoy it. But when it's your first time…"

  Susannah stared at them, trying to step away from the sex and see them as men. Logan leaned forward, cupping his coffee in both hands, his gaze steady on hers. Tyler lazed, legs out and crossed at the ankles, one hand playing with the mug on the table, the other scratching his bare chest.

  They'd both pulled on jeans but left everything else bare.

  They were wonderful, edible delights who had turned her sexual world upside down. And at that moment Susannah knew what she had to do.

  "I have to go, guys."

  "What?" Logan sat up.

  "Seriously?" Tyler straightened.

  "Yes. I have to go. I can't deal with two of you. You both deserve a hundred percent of whatever woman you choose. I can't do that. There's not enough of me to go around, and too much of you. Does that make sense?"

  "No." Logan shook his head. "No, it doesn't make sense. We're not asking for percentages, Susannah. Just you."

  "I know that, Logan. Last night was an awesomely wonderful experience and I'll carry the memory of it with me forever. Don't ever think otherwise." She twisted her hands together in front of her in an awkward and unusual display of nerves.

  "However, I've learned that in challenging situations, I need to trust my gut. And my gut is telling me that sooner or later, any kind of threesome we set up is going to shatter. To fall apart. Someone will want more, someone's feelings will be hurt and the whole thing will become an unmitigated clusterfuck."

  "No, I wouldn't…we wouldn't…" Tyler stuttered, his brows creasing into a frown.

  Susannah stopped him, holding out her hand like a traffic cop. "Don't, Tyler. Just think for a minute. You two have been sharing for years now. How long has your longest relationship been? Under these circumstances? How long have you actually shared the same woman?"

  As silence fell, more pieces clicked into place in Susannah's head. These two men were giving women pleasure, yes. But they were also managing to hide from anything approaching real commitment.

  They were still playing at sex. It was still a game to them, every bit as much of a game as it had been when they began it all those years ago.

  Finally Logan looked up. "Maybe three or four months?"

  She spread her hands. "I rest my case, guys."

  "But…"

  He moved, as if to stand, but again Susannah held up her hand and obediently he sank down. "No buts." She picked up her purse. "I will say one thing to you both. Thank you. Thank you for a night I'll never forget."

  Turning to leave, she heard Logan's voice. "Then choose one of us. Please. Don't go like this. Don't go away angry."

  She stopped and thought about Logan's suggestion. "I'm not angry, Logan. I'm leaving after the most wonderful night and I'm grateful beyond measure. But choose? That would be almost impossible."

  Then another thought struck her. "If I had to?"

  Could she do this? Could she be this honest? Then, as if a weight dropped from her shoulders, she realized--yes, she could. She owed them the truth, painful though it might be.

  She walked back into the little kitchen and dropped a kiss on Logan's head. "Logan, if I had to choose, I'd choose you."

  Tyler jerked in his chair. "Why not me?"

  She moved to Tyler and repeated the light kiss, brushing his soft mussed hair away from his forehead. "Because, Tyler darling, you never once called me by my name."

  And with that parting comment, Susannah walked to the door of the suite and let herself out.

  Epilogue

  Three months later…

  It was cold, wet and thoroughly miserable, much like Susannah herself. She'd suf
fered through the holidays, survived another January and wondered if she should just accept the fact that her emotions were on the edge of shutting down completely.

  Christmas parties had resulted in several men who might have interested her, but somehow their attempts at flirtation had fallen flat.

  Or maybe it was Susannah who was flat. After all, she'd had the best there was, in her opinion. Where the fuck was she supposed to go from there?

  Luckily she'd stumbled into an opportunity to flex her cyber muscles and a case had appeared on her desk just before Thanksgiving; one that had intrigued and challenged her. At least it was something useful and productive, leading to an enhanced knowledge of Internet crime and some interesting conversations with Federal authorities who were already pursuing similar interests.

  Television shows notwithstanding, most law enforcement folks weren't averse to sitting down over a beer and exchanging ideas. Case details weren't offered, of course, but trends and new concepts were out there for everyone to chew over.

  Susannah had not only chewed, she'd munched and swallowed. And now had a couple more Internet-based crimes to pursue. Glancing out of the window, she thanked her lucky stars for the work, which kept her inside where it was warm. Cold wet feet were to be avoided at all costs.

  The phone rang and she saved her work, turning to answer it.

  "It's eighty-two and sunny. When are you going to be here?"

  Sophie's cheerful voice brightened Susannah's office and she found herself grinning. "When you buy my ticket, babe. It's getting near tax time. My accountant has kids in college."

  "Hah." Sophie's elegant snort rang in Susannah's ear. "You're going to miss the Tampa Renaissance Faire, you know."

  "Really." She drawled the word. She could think of other things she'd mind missing, but given her experiences, not too many. Going back there, seeing those guys…uh, no.

  "Maybe your two friends will be here."

  "Don't know."

  "Oh for Chrissake, Suz. I know you slept with the two of them. You've never said so, but I know it. Woman's intuition. So just spill the beans, why don't you? Get it off your chest. You'll feel better."

  Wise to Sophie's ways of ferreting out information, Susannah assumed what she liked to think of as her enigmatic smile. "Sorry, sweetie. Need to know information."

  "I need to know." It was a wail.

  "No you don't."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you don't give me any peace as it is. If I told you anything more, you'd be merciless. I'd have to rename you Torquemada."

  "Aha." Sophie pounced. "So there is something to tell. I knew it."

  "Oh for…" Exasperated, Susannah ran her hands through her hair. "Let it be, okay? Just leave it alone." She paused. "It hurts, Soph. First time I've said that, so let's just leave it there."

  There was a moment's silence. "Okay, hon. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was picking at a scar."

  "Honestly? Until I said it, I didn't know either."

  "Which one?"

  Susannah closed her eyes and saw him, Logan, dark hair and smiling eyes. Heard his voice again, felt him…well, enough of that.

  "The dark one."

  "I'm looking at the photo again. Not sure how you picked, but can I have the other one?"

  In spite of her confused emotions, Susannah giggled. "Sure. Tyler's one hell of a stud. If I ever see him again, I'll send him to you."

  "Hang in there, sweetie." There was sympathy in Sophie's tone.

  "What are you doing? You going to the Faire?"

  "Yeah." A gusty sigh followed. "I'm covering it again for the Gulf Meadows News. Only this time, they're online. So I get to upload digital photos, not deal with print anymore. Kinda cool, actually."

  The conversation rambled a little as both Sophie and Susannah discussed the effects of technology on their respective little worlds.

  "Got corsets?" quipped Susannah.

  "Nope. I'm going as something different."

  "Really? It is a Renaissance Faire, ya know, kiddo. In case you missed the reference…"

  "Har har." Sophie sighed loudly. "You are so funny."

  "Well? What are you going to wear then? C'mon. Inquiring minds and all that."

  "Um…"

  This hesitation was unlike Sophie and made Susannah sit upright in her chair. "Sophie? Costume?"

  "Don't laugh."

  "I won't, I promise. You didn't laugh at me in my corset."

  "Okay then." Another pause. "I'm wearing leather."

  "Ouch. In Florida? I know it's February, but isn't that going to be hotter than hell?"

  "No."

  That was much too short an answer for Susannah. "Deets, sweetie. Give. Or I shall make your life miserable. And you know I can do it."

  "I have a new outfit. It's…it's sort of along the lines of bondage gear."

  Susannah blinked, swallowed, and blinked again. "By bondage, you mean Kitten with a whip type stuff?"

  "Kinda."

  Biting her lip, Susannah shook her head at herself. The mere thought of delicate little Sophie Lewis in leather, studs and six inch black spikes…well, it was completely outrageous. "Oh my."

  "You're laughing."

  "Am not."

  There was a tap on her office door, interrupting what could well have been a rather infantile exchange of insults. "Dammit, I gotta go, Soph. Sorry. But you can bet we'll be talking more about this."

  "I was afraid of that. So--maybe don't keep in touch." She giggled.

  Susannah laughed back. "Like that's gonna happen. Bye." She disconnected the call as she rose to answer the knock. Her small office suite was on the ground floor at the rear of the building, so she couldn't always see who outside her door. Keeping it locked seemed like a good idea unless she had an appointment.

  Today, she didn't, so she had to click the lock before opening the door.

  "Oh…"

  She gasped aloud as she looked up into Logan's eyes, unable to prevent her exclamation. He was damp, his hair curling down onto his forehead and dusted with sparkling droplets. He smelled of…Logan, a fresh male scent that seeped into her brains and curled itself up in her hypo-something or other.

  She wanted to strip him, lick him from head to foot and fuck him silly. Instead, she said, stupidly, "Hi."

  "Hi yourself." He brushed drips off his shoulders. "Can I come in?"

  She was ready to step aside, but waited a beat. "I don't know. Are you alone?"

  He caught her inference. "Yes. Tyler's in California. To stay. I'm alone now. Have been since just before Christmas."

  "Oh."

  He stared at her with something behind his eyes that made her body ache for him. "I never really knew what it was to be truly alone. You were right, Susannah. We had our reasons, but you were right. We'd been hiding. I'm done with hiding now. And I've figured out what it is I want."

  She nodded and then stepped back, inviting him inside. "I'm glad, Logan. Very glad for your sake."

  He watched her close the door. "I hope you'll be glad for your sake too. Because I'm pretty certain that what I want…is you."

  "Hmm." She snapped the lock back into place. "Only pretty certain?"

  He grinned and her heart leaped into her throat. Only Logan could smile quite like that. "I need to make sure. And for that, you'll need to get naked. Soon. Very soon."

  Susannah backed up to her desk, leaned her butt against it and put her hands on the edge next to her hips. It was a physical invitation, and she was curious to see if he'd respond.

  She should've known better. He was between her legs, looming over her before she'd caught her breath.

  "If you don't want to be naked in five seconds, tell me to go, Susannah."

  She stared into those beautiful eyes. "Make it six seconds. My boots have laces."

  THE END

  About The Author

  Sahara Kelly is always happy to explain to editors that her spelling errors aren't really errors, since she was born and raised in
England, where an extra "u" is quite in order. She likes to think it adds colour to her writing. Sadly, it's not a widely held belief, so she'd like you to know she still retains a lot from her English childhood even though you won't see much of it in her stories.

  Arriving in America with her almost-complete collection of Leslie Charteris' Saint novels and a passion for Monty Python, Sahara's new life eventually expanded to include a husband, offspring, citizenship, and a certain amount of acclimation to her new surroundings. (She still cherishes that extra "u" though.) Life in New England became complete with the publication of her first novel just after the birth of her son, and over two decades later she's still writing.

  Now enjoying the greater freedom offered to authors by the rapidly expanding self-publishing scene, she's looking forward to many more such experiences, both with older favorites and lots of new stories like this one. Being freed of restraints has opened doors--for Sahara and many other writers. There are now no impediments; no obstructions barring the path from writer to reader. Which is, in many ways, exactly as originally intended when that first storyteller sat on a rock outside her cave, tugged her bearskin around her shoulders and smiled at her kids across the open fire with the words "Once upon a time..." (or however it sounded several million years ago.)

  To find out more about Sahara Kelly and her writing, please drop by her website and visit her at:

  www.saharakelly.com

  Since she has jumped into the world of private enterprise literature, Sahara has formed her own little publishing company. You're also welcome to come and check it out at the address below.

  www.skprivatelabel.com

  She has quite a few books available for your eReader - from various publishers at various prices. Some are older titles re-released at a greatly reduced price for those readers who may have missed them the first time around. Others are brand new from SK Private Label Publications.

  To find these books and other Sahara Kelly stories, simply search for her name in the B & N eBook store. Her print titles are also available through Barnes and Noble.