Authors: Elizabeth Lowe
The back of Ted's hand brushed across
a bleeding mouth that suddenly curled into a smirk. “You pack one hell of a
punch.
That is twice now.
I owe you.”
Brushing hair from his face to allow
a better look, Brad rebutted, “Fuck! What did you expect?
Turning toward Sam, her
hair in disarray, her robe revealing ample cleavage, her svelte legs, the sight
alone prompted Ted’s reply, “I guess I am.
I’m crazy in love with this minx.”
Ted’s
words like a lance, hurled into Brad’s chest.
No woman was worth destroying a lifelong friendship.
Not even Sam.
In time, he would get over her.
There were plenty of others.
If
that did not work, he would build a brick wall, if he had to, to protect a
friendship.
With
intensions of helping Ted to his feet, Brad extended his hand an advantage that
allowed Ted to yank him to the floor.
Contagious laughter broke out the kind that brings tears to eyes and
pain to the stomach.
The first to regain composure, Sam
suggested, “Coffee anyone?”
Brad stood reaching to assist her,
only to have his hand knocked aside by Ted.
“Sorry, friend, just trying to be a
gentleman.
She is all yours.”
“And don't forget it,” Ted curtly
replied.
On his way to the kitchen, Brad
mumbled beneath his breath, “I'll sure as hell try.”
Though
frightened and confused by the events that took place Sam felt flattered that
Ted loved her so much that he would attack his dearest friend.
Sudden guilt made her question why she laid
beside Brad why she allowed him to hold her, considering she did not even know
the man, really.
Surely, the lack of
physical attraction made her feel safe, she reasoned, after all Ted was the man
she loved.
Having
difficulty relinquishing her hold on perplexing hostility, later when Ted
curled his arms around her, Sam resisted.
Turning her cheek to avoid his kiss allowed his beard to scratch tender
skin, the pain adding to the irritation already flashing high inside.
It did not help that the lingering offensive
odor of alcohol made her stomach queasy reminding her how much she detested the
smell and taste of stale liquor.
“O.K.,
baby, I understand.
I am so sorry for
last night.
Forgive me, please.
I love you so much, Sam.
You will never know how much.
God, you're making me nuts.”
Forcing herself, she slipped her arms around
his neck reluctantly returning his kiss, one he deepened due to his inability
to suppress the feelings she aroused.
His moist tongue slithering across her lips jerked her back. “Don't,
Ted.
Please.
I don't know what is wrong.
I just cannot.
Not after last . . . please understand.”
“Don't you love me, Sam?”
With each roaring beat of her heart,
seconds ticked until the words teetering on the end of her tongue rolled off,
“Of course I do.”
“Then say it.”
As his ice blue orbs cut through hers
anticipating an answer, she fought pricking tears.
Observing
from the kitchen doorway, sensing Sam's aversion, Brad captured her attention
with the wink of an eye.
“Hey, you two,
come on, coffee's getting cold.”
For
a long time they sat drinking cup after cup of strong coffee, the men leaning
back in their chairs laughing, patting each other on the back as they took
turns reminiscing about their mischief-making, somewhat embarrassing adolescent
years,
And, their dreams of becoming
rich and famous.
Enlightened
and enthralled by their escapades, Sam found it inconceivable that only a while
ago they had fought like wild animals.
Never before did she witness such camaraderie and love between men so
different and yet, so much alike, an idyllic relationship with each taking
great pleasure and pride in the other, a friendship defying numerous trials
over the years.
The mere thought of
becoming a part of the group thrilled her.
As the men continued
with their tales, Brad drew Sam’s attention.
She found herself hanging on to his every word and gesture like a
besotted school-girl.
His skin dark
against the wrinkled, white dress shirt became unbuttoned during the tussle
exposing a mass of dark sprigs and the silver cross dangling from his thick
neck.
Jaunty, and debonair, each laugh
deepened the cleft in his chin.
Now she
understood why women found him irresistible.
Questions about the tales Ted told her came
randomly to mind.
Why would Brad rape a
young woman when he could have anyone he desired with a snap of his
fingers?
How many women had he
known?
Did he really love them and leave
them?
Her
gaze lowered.
Brad was looking back, his
black, fiery pools so intense they bore through her as if he knew her every
conception.
She prayed he did not.
Enthralled
in the luxury of daydreaming, she remembered the gentleness of Brad's thumb on
her cheek, his velvet words, the warmth, and strength of his arms and
body.
Briefly, she wondered what it
would be like to have his mouth play on hers, how his hands would feel if he
touched her privately, why her body still tingled where his had touched.
Frightened that the warmth she was beginning
to feel toward him showed, she slammed the door on covetous thoughts quietly
warning she had better guard her heart.
With
sidelong glances, Brad closely scrutinized Sam and Ted, honestly, mostly
Sam.
She had an alluring laugh that came
from way down deep making her blue eyes sparkle, and her face light up.
Her habit of flipping her hair behind her
ears whenever it misbehaved, conjured up memories of its fragrance, its
silkiness.
Each time her mouth descended
upon her cup, he wondered what it would be like to have them beneath his.
There
was no hiding the tempting mounds beneath her robe.
He guffawed inwardly each time she reached to
close the opening, a modesty he found both rare, and refreshing.
A natural beauty, she was an exhilarating
aphrodisiac.
Even knowing his perusal
was too obvious still he surrendered willingly.
There was no resisting the force drawing him to her.
Ted
missed nothing the exchanged glances were indisputable. Slight malevolence
sharpened his eyes as he wondered if they stemmed from curiosity or something
deeper.
Quelling his nerves, he reminded
himself there could never be any attraction between them thanks to the playboy
picture he purposely painted of Brad.
Preferring experienced women, Brad would not get involved with someone
as young and naive as Sam.
With women
swarming around him, as if bee's to honey, more than willing to copulate, Sam
would be the last female he would consider.
Most importantly, he trusted his friend. Then, why was he suddenly aware
of a distressing magnetism between the two people he loved more than anything
in the world?
Uncomfortable with the
thoughts flooding her mind, Sam excused herself.
She needed to shower and get on with her
day.
When Brad stood, Ted responded, “Hey,
buddy, sit for God's sake, she's no queen of Sheba.”
Annoyed with Ted's lack of manners,
“Just trying to be a gentleman.”
“Don't you ever get tired of it,” Ted
teased.
“That depends on whom I'm being a
gentleman for.”
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Despite
the hot pounding water soothing her body, feeling dirty, Sam scrubbed her skin
until the soap slipped from her hands.
Leaning
against marble allowing the spray to pelt her face hoping it would dilute her
salty tears, she hugged herself.
Teeth
clamping down on her lower lip endeavored to quell her sobs.
Parading
before her was the trepidation of her experience.
The sound of tearing material, grunts,
groans, the hot liquid spilling on her skin.
A hand shot to her mouth capturing a scream before it totally escaped
trusting the sound of the water kept other ears from hearing.
Having
been intimate with no one other than Ted, Sam wondered if all men behaved so
abusively.
If what happened was a sample
of how it would be between them.
If so,
it was far from her expectations.
Still
ringing in her ears were Ted’s words, “When I bought this dress, I bought
you.”
There was no way she could bare
such treatment again. Sliding down the slippery wall, she hunched in the corner
empowering the spray to mollify her aching soul while she acknowledged a jewel
had fallen from her prince's crown.
Regaining
her composure, she stepped from the shower wrapping a towel snugly around her
hoping to halt her shivering.
Facing the
effigy magically coming alive in the mirror, she listened to its voice. “You're
a child, who needs to grow up or you will never be able to keep a man like
Ted.
He is like no one you have ever
known, rich, intelligent, successful, and madly in love with you.
You cannot allow chastity to get in the
way.
Loosen up, grow up and give in.”
Sam
buried her face into the lushness of the towel as her intuition resounded.
“Go home, now while you can.
Nothing good will come from this
relationship.”
For the first time, Sam turned her
back on her gut feelings.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Brad was both relieved
and thankful when Sam left the room.
No
longer distracted he could now concentrate on solving the problems between
himself and Ted.
Wasting no time, “We
have to talk, Ted. There's company business that needs attention.”
With a tilt of his brow, Ted
exclaimed, “Business?
You want to talk
shop now?”
Hostility
shot Brad to his feet, almost tipping over his chair.
Ted's casual dismissal of important matters
continually pissed him off. “We either talk now or in one hour I'll be packed
and out of here.”
Seated
Ted was or he would have surely fallen into the chair from the shock of Brad’s
uncommon fit of temper.
“You can’t be
serious.
What's gotten into you, for
Christ sake?”
A
catharsis of thoughts and emotions roared out, “I'm strung to the max.
I thought we had a partnership, but it has
been one sided for far too long.
You
have been completely ignoring your obligations.
I am fed up with, covering your ass, carrying your load.
I need some time off before I lose what
little sanity I have left.”
Brad’s
flash of irritation said stretched to their limits his nerves were.
Ted knew when not to push any harder.
“You're serious aren't you?”