Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  sit on the deck and wait. It’s a beautiful day and the fall colors are gorgeous.”

  I hold Connor’s hand and follow him out onto the deck. There are no other guests around, mostly

  everyone is packing up or has already checked out. Connor sits in a wooden Adirondack chair and

  pulls me onto his lap. He sighs as he looks up at me. “I’m going to miss you, sweet girl.”

  “I’m going to miss you too.” I lean down and kiss him. God, I love his lips. They are so soft.

  “Tess?”

  “Yeah?”

  He touches a wisp of hair by the side of my head. “Thank you,” he says softly.

  I pull back. “For what? I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

  For only the second or maybe third time during my stay, I see a serious expression on Connor’s

  face. “For what you’ve done for Wade. For me.”

  I laugh. “I haven’t done anything. Believe me, you two have made this the best weekend ever.”

  Shaking his head, Connor says, “No. You don’t understand. After what happened last time, with

  our threesome? Wade hasn’t only been avoiding women. He’s been avoiding everyone. Me included.”

  “Really?”

  He nods. “He pushes me away every chance he gets. Doesn’t matter what I say...or do.” He shakes

  his head. “The man can be as stubborn as a bull when he wants to be.”

  “I imagine he can be.”

  Connor gets this amazing look of tenderness as he twists my hair around his finger. “Things are

  going to be different now, thanks to you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.”

  “Hey!” Both Connor and I turn to find Wade standing in the doorway to the Big House a smile on

  his lips, a serious expression in his eyes. “I thought maybe you’d left without saying goodbye.”

  I get up from Connor’s lap and walk up to Wade. I have to look up, way up, because the man’s so

  tall. Lord, I love him. I take hold of his hands and squeeze. “I wouldn’t leave without saying

  goodbye.”

  “Good, because I have a present for you.”

  “Wade,” I say. “You know I can’t accept anything. I have no space for gifts and no home—”

  He silences me with a kiss. A wonderfully warm and inviting kiss. After the kiss he smiles down at

  me with a new sort of light in his dark eyes. He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and hands it to me.

  Inside is a gift certificate for a free stay at the ranch.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “It’s not a gift, it’s more of an invitation.”

  Connor gets up from the chair to join us, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “We want you to come

  back. Not as a guest.”

  “We want this to be your...home. Whenever you need one.”

  “Really?” I look from one to the other. I experience two conflicting sensations, overwhelming

  sadness that I have to leave and unbearable joy at the thought of returning to the ranch and to these

  men. To a home...of sorts.

  “Really,” Wade says, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. “In fact, I’m already planning

  your next visit.”

  Oh God. I can just imagine what Wade has planned. I’m sure I’m going to spend the majority of

  my flight to New York playing out possible scenarios for my next visit. “How about next weekend?” I

  joke, my pulse racing at the thought of hanging out with these men...of getting naked with them again.

  “Not soon enough.”

  Going up on tiptoes, I kiss Wade. Then I turn and kiss Connor. I take hold of each man’s hand and

  squeeze, grinning wildly in anticipation of our next rendezvous. “I can’t imagine a better gift, thank

  you.”

  “You’re a pretty damn fine gift yourself,” Connor says as he wraps me in a bear hug.

  Wade joins us, kissing the top of my head. “Don’t be a stranger,” he whispers.

  “I won’t,” I reply.

  There’s an incredible sense of peace that settles over me as I’m embraced by these two men. They

  make me feel loved. Complete. Safe.

  They make me feel ready to go out and love some more.

  THE END

  To find out what would have happened if Tessa chose Wade, click here.

  More books from Daire St. Denis:

  Sex, Spies and Photographs: A Wicked Way Interactive

  How To Break A Cowboy (Savage Tales)

  How To Train A Lover (Savage Tales/ Wicked Way Interactive)

  With a degree in Archaeology, Daire St. Denis was sure she was destined to be the next female Indiana

  Jones. That didn't quite pan out but she still managed to experience her fair share of exotic adventures.

  Some of her most daring escapades include, skydiving in Canada, being trapped in the Great Pyramid

  of Giza, searching for tigers in the foothills of the Himalayas, touring Germany by motorbike and

  meeting Medusa in the bowels of Istanbul, Turkey.

  Daire loves to pen erotic tales full of passion and unexpected adventure and her colorful past has

  provided ample inspiration for her muse.

  Visit Daire:

  http://dairestdenis.com/

  twitter: @DaireStDenis

  Facebook

  Subscribe to Daire’s List to find out about NEW RELEASES, FREE BOOKS AND MORE!

  Want to read more about Tessa Savage?

  HOW TO BREAK A COWBOY – A Savage Tale Tessa shows up at the Lazy L Ranch looking forward to another threesome romp in the hay. But a

  conflict between her two best cowboys threatens to ruin her chances of a repeat performance.

  Undeterred, Tess has an idea...why not invite the 'conflict' to join them? The question is, can the men's

  relationship handle another set of ranch hands? Can Tessa?

  Warning: This is an erotic tale with explicit language and content including male/male/female

  lovin' - western style. Hold onto your hat, because it's going to be a wild ride!

  OR

  To read a full length interactive novel about Tessa’s adventures in the Greek Islands, check out

  HOW TO TRAIN A LOVER - A Savage Interactive.

  HOW TO TRAIN A LOVER - A Savage Interactive is now available for your Kindle!

  Warning: This interactive, erotic novel contains explicit language, sexual content (with multiple

  partners) and is intended for a mature (over 18) audience with a playful side! You decided who Tessa

  ends up with. Is it the dominant billionaire tycoon or the hot, young Greek god? Choose who’s best for

  Tessa in this full-length interactive novel! Turn the page for an excerpt from HOW TO TRAIN A

  LOVER.

  How to Train a Lover - A Savage Interactive Excerpt

  Copyright 2013 by Daire St. Denis

  Making my way across the room of the guesthouse, I go to the curtains and spread them wide, smiling

  as I take in the red tile roofs leading down to the port of Molyvos at the base of the hill. The azure

  blue of the Aegean Sea sparkles in the late afternoon sun.

  Ahh.

  I have a feeling this is going to be one of my best holidays yet.

  A knock sounds on my door and my heart flips as I anticipate coming face to face with dear Mrs.

  Kinellis after so many years. “Come in,” I call, still standing by the French doors, not wanting to

  betray how anxious I am to see her again.

  Except, it’s not her.

  Standing in the open door is someone who is as opposite to Medea Kinellis as you can get.

  First of all he’s a ‘he’ not a ‘she’. Secondly, he’s young. Late twenties, maybe? Thirdly, where

  Medea was barely five feet tall,
this man is enormous. Six foot three at least. He’s too tall. Too big.

  He has to duck in order to clear the doorway.

  He’s wearing an open-neck cotton shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, and loose linen trousers like he’s

  just come from a photo shoot on the beach. His hair is a mass of dark curls and his face is tanned with

  a wide jaw and the kind of nose sculptors take great care to reproduce in stone.

  But it’s his eyes that captivate me. They’re tawny colored—I think, it’s hard to tell from this far

  away—anyway, the color contrasts with his dark skin tone and dark lashes making him look like a tall,

  delicious, god with king-of-the-jungle eyes.

  There’s something familiar about him too, like I’ve seen him on TV. Or, like he’s made a guest

  appearance in one of my many illicit dreams.

  Yes. That last one.

  “Ms. Savage. Welcome to the Daphnis and Chloe Guesthouse.” He looks around the room. “I hope

  you find everything to your liking.” His voice rumbles like a volcano about to erupt, and I feel the

  wonderful resonance of it in my chest. Even though he has the coloring of a Greek man, he’s got this

  beautiful British accent.

  Sublime.

  I’ve got a partiality to accents, British accents in particular. Probably because they sound so

  proper. Given the right partner in the bedroom, that proper accent creates a tantalizing dichotomy

  when coupled with completely improper requests and the sound of his accent prompts my imagination

  to take me there...with him.

  “Would you kindly shed your garments, Ms. Savage? Yes. Lovely. Lie on the bed. Spread your legs.

  Ah, that’s it. Beautiful. Now, will you permit me to tell you exactly what I’m going to do to you...?”

  “Is everything all right? Is the room to your satisfaction?”

  I clear my throat and glance around. “Yes, everything looks lovely.”

  What is wrong with me? Two minutes in his presence and I’m imagining sex scenes with the poor

  man.

  Fickle, fickle Tessa.

  What was it? Less than twenty-four hours ago I was with Alander?

  Alander who?

  I know, terrible, isn’t it?

  Now I only have eyes for the tall Adonis with the lion eyes and the sexy accent who has barely

  made it inside my doorway. If he doesn’t leave my room soon, I’m going to jump him and it won’t be

  pretty.

  “We normally serve breakfast downstairs between seven and nine, but as you’re our only

  guest...we can make other arrangements if you like.”

  My warped brain takes his words and twists them as if he’s suggesting illicit arrangements.

  I give my head a little shake and rub my eyes. But when I open them, I swear I catch him checking

  me out. His gaze starts somewhere mid-calf and up it goes with a leisurely browse. Then back down.

  Only to shimmy back up, even more slowly, giving me the shivers.

  I swallow.

  My hand flutters to my throat and I fight the urge to undo the top button on my blouse.

  Not good.

  “I can bring your breakfast up here, if you like.”

  To my one-track mind, it’s like he’s suggesting that he, himself, is on the menu.

  “Ms. Savage?”

  “What? Sorry. What?”

  “Is that all right with you?”

  “Yes. Yes of course.” I nod even though I have no idea what I’ve agreed to. I think it’s something

  about breakfast. Not sure. Doesn’t matter. “Thank you.” I say, trying to politely wave him out before I

  do something insane. “Everything is lovely. Perfect. Really. Thank you.”

  He smiles as he backs out the door. It’s an interesting smile. Secretive. Like he can read my dirty

  mind.

  No. That’s just my overactive imagination.

  There’s something wrong with me.

  “If you need anything, anything at all...my name is Nicolai and I’d be happy to serve you.”

  With that, he closes the door and I am left to deal with my insanely naughty thoughts. I lean

  against the door and press a hand to my feverish forehead. My reaction to Nicolai—what a nice name

  —might be understandable given his striking physical presence, but is no less unacceptable. I just met

  the man. Good lord. My reaction is over the top, even for me. I’m sure it’s because I’ve had my

  arousal prematurely squelched with the whole Alander-being-married thing.

  There’s only one remedy. I lock the door to my suite, unpack my suitcase, locate my vibrator and

  sprawl out on the big bed, taking the matter of my unspent arousal into my own hands.

  My imagination takes me back to the elevator this morning...with Alander. In my new version, his

  body guards aren’t there, it’s just us. I’m facing the mirror at the back and Alander is behind me, his

  hands all over me...

  “You shouldn’t have made me wait, Tessa Savage,” he whispers into my hair.

  “I had no choice,” I say.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  He lifts my skirt up to my waist, caressing my bare back side. “You had a choice then...” I hear the

  sound of his fly sliding open. “ Now , you have no choice.” His hand moves and his body shifts until his

  hard male flesh presses right up against the cleft of my butt. “You are going to take me right here...”

  He slips a finger into the tight opening of my ass. “And you are going to enjoy it.”

  “You think so?” I gasp as he fits another finger inside.

  “I know so.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Yes I am.” He works a third finger into me and spreads my tense muscles from within. Plunging

  and twisting, working me, loosening me...readying me for his cock. “Fuck I love your ass,” he

  murmurs.

  Wanting what he’s suggesting as much as he wants it, I can’t help but make soft sounds of pleasure

  while I arch my back, opening myself to his questing touch.

  “That’s it, Tess,” he groans, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock.

  Oh God! I’m still so tight. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can handle him.

  It’s too late. He’s pushing himself inside me just as the elevator rocks to life. I cry out in acute

  arousal and dismay as the door dings and slides open. I open my eyes to see the reflection of a crowd

  of people looking in on us.

  Alander plunges again.

  Oh!

  I turn my pleasure-logged gaze to his reflection to tell him to stop.

  Only one problem. It’s not Alander fucking me from behind...it’s another man, a much younger

  man. One with dark curls and incredible hazel eyes.

  “Nicolai?”

  My orgasm takes me by storm and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

  Holy shit.

  All it took was an image of Nicolai’s face, contorted with desire, and...BAM!

  So much for using masturbation as means of controlling my thoughts about the poor man I just

  met.

  I lie on my back, with my knees bent, massaging my temples.

  I’m pretty sure I know what my problem is. I’ve gone without sex longer than I should have. The

  little interlude with Alander yesterday only served to aggravate my libido, so now I’m reacting to the

  first attractive, red-blooded male I see. There’s only one solution. I need to find a lover. Quick.

  However, when I head out that evening with plans to go to the nearest taverna for supper and

  hopefully meet someone of like mind, I
run into the very man I’m trying to avoid. He’s carrying a

  cloth bag filled with fresh vegetables and he’s wearing a perplexed expression on his handsome face.

  I was hoping my lust-logged brain had embellished his attributes. Unfortunately, it did not. In fact,

  if anything he is even more attractive. He seems somehow bigger outside in the narrow alleyway. His

  eyes shine brighter, his shoulders appear broader and the smile on his face hints at even naughtier

  secrets.

  The mere sight of him triggers a tightening of my nipples and a throbbing between my thighs.

  Not good. This is not good.

  “Ms. Savage,” he says with a frown. “You are eating at the guesthouse this evening, aren’t you?

  My cousin’s grilling fresh mackerel and the spanakopita’s already in the oven.”

  “Oh,” I say, covering my mouth. So that’s what he’d asked me about earlier while I was immersed

  in my wicked fantasy. I clear my throat. “I did say I was eating in tonight, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” He gives me an odd look.

  “Right. Well, let’s go back to the guesthouse then, shall we?” Oh no. I wonder if he can hear that

  I’m putting on a little bit of a British accent. I do that sometimes, I unconsciously adopt the accent of

  others around me. Perhaps it’s because I have no home but make my home wherever I am at the

  moment.

  “Good.” He furrows his brow before continuing down the lane to the guesthouse.

  I follow so close that I catch a whiff of his personal scent; citrus, cardamom and fresh air. He

  smells like a beach party. It’s a little slice of heaven and instantly brings on more vivid fantasies

  starring...him. My naughty gaze drops to the mound of taut flesh covered by loose linen, moving

  directly in front of me.

  I try to tear my eyes away, but I’m not having much luck.

  It’s not until he stops and I nearly run straight into him that I lift my gaze. Is he smiling that sort

  of half-smile because he caught me staring at his ass?

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “Please.” With a sweep of his hand, he indicates the open door to the guesthouse. I precede him

  inside and he ushers me to the terrace where a table has been set for two. Pulling out my chair, he gets

  me settled before disappearing inside again to drop off his purchases.

  He returns with a bottle of ouzo and two small glasses which he promptly fills. He hands me one