Lynne's Love Triangle (17 page)

“Well, count your blessings. He was planning on doing some really bad things to you.”

* * * *

Kurt and Troy were close to claustrophobic since the man hijacked her car the other day. Neither one would let her out of their sight for a minute. They ensured someone was with her at all times, and if one man had to work, the other one stood by her side. The flexibility of Kurt’s job working in public relations for small, up-and-coming music bands allowed him to work from home, and he never seemed to go out anymore. Troy had to leave for his booked gigs, but he either skipped practice or made the other guys in his band meet at his house. She couldn’t even go to the bathroom alone. This morning, Kurt had followed her in there and she had to shoo him out so she could have five minutes of privacy.

It was sweet, and having her two lovers nearby made her feel safe and loved.

However, there was a fine line between feeling loved and smothered.

Today, Kurt accompanied her to the hospital. She had not seen Sandy since she woke up, and she had been moved from ICU to recover on the Medical Surgical floor.

The hallway echoed with each step of her sensible low-heeled leather shoes. She had worn a navy blue pantsuit, but she still felt cold in the hospital. She knocked on the door to room 204. Thank God, she was finally in an area with more lenient visiting restrictions.

“Hello?” a female voice answered from within the room. “Come on in.”

Lynne pushed the door open to reveal two beds. One was empty and the other held her friend, Sandy. Sandy’s mom sat by her bedside along with her fiancé Joseph.

Sandy smiled when she recognized Lynne.

“I am so happy to see you are finally awake.” Lynne strode to the bed and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze.

“Doesn’t she look radiant?” Joseph asked.

“Absolutely.” Sandy was dressed in an unflattering blue hospital gown. She had messy hair and no makeup. Her eyes were black and blue, but she did have a glow from within.

Sandy waved a hand dismissing her compliment.

“Can she talk yet?” Lynne realized suddenly that she had not heard her friend speak a single word.

“No, but in a few days they will take out the trach tube and her throat should heal.”

“I am so sorry, Sandy. I feel like I am to blame for you getting hurt.”

Sandy shook her head, denying what Lynne felt was true in her heart.

“Yes, I was attacked the other day. A man hijacked my car and tried to…” She shivered unable to finish her train of thought. She didn’t want to think of what he wanted to do with her—or what he'd done to Sandy. Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Sandy picked up a notepad and began to scribble furiously. “It’s not your fault.”

“Have you thought about carrying a gun, Lynne?”

“I don’t have a permit to carry a gun, Joseph. Besides Kurt and Troy are doing a good job protecting me.”

“Just the same, I’d feel better if you could defend yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“Not with some deranged man on the loose who wants to try to rape and kill you.” Lynne’s first thought was that she hadn’t realized her friend had been sexually assaulted, too. The thought of a man pawing at her, forcing himself on her made Lynne want to vomit.

Sandy’s mother slapped Joseph as if he said something he shouldn’t have.

“I am so sorry, Sandy!” Lynne hiccupped. Tears she had been fighting to hold back spilled over, streaming down her cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. We’re trying to limit the number of people who know how badly she was hurt, and we want to lay low for a while after this. As soon as the doctors give the okay, we’re going to head to the Caribbean for Sandy to recover.” He smiled down at her in the bed, and Sandy beamed up at him. “Take an early honeymoon.”

“I think that would be good for both of you.” Lynne would feel better knowing her friend was safe and couldn’t get hurt by whoever it was that wanted her dead. The last thing she wanted was to see her hurt again. “Has the detective called on you yet?”

Sandy nodded.

“Did he ask you to identify the guy?”

Sandy blinked and nodded again.

“She couldn’t tell them what he looked like, Lynne.” Joseph’s jaw clenched. “She can’t remember what happened. It’s like she blanked out the night altogether.”

“Don’t feel bad. If it’s the same guy who hijacked my car, he wore a ski mask. So I can’t ID the asshole either.”

“Somebody will nab him eventually, and I hope I get to be there when they do. I’d love to give him some serious hurt for doing this.”

Chapter Thirteen

Troy felt helpless. How could he protect Lynne if she insisted on keeping her freedom and independence? He couldn’t lock her up and keep her from going out, could he?

“What are you doing out here, Lynne?” Troy said through gritted teeth.

Finding her outside walking in the community garden made his blood boil. She was going to get herself killed if she wasn’t careful, but he knew she was getting cabin fever in his small apartment. He watched her get more and more bored in the small confines of their home, and it was hurting him to not be able to do something about it. Unfortunately, things were not going to change until they found the man who was after her. She was in danger, and she had to take precautions.

“I was getting some sun and maybe take a quick swim.” That much was obvious.

Her sun-kissed skin glistened with the suntan lotion she applied. A few drops of water clung to her skin, and the tiny bikini she wore made him want to rip it off her, sweep her up in his arms, and carry her upstairs to his bed.

If only he could fuck some sense into her. He certainly couldn’t seem to talk sense into her.

He took a deep breath and the time to wrap the towel over her shoulders. “You should never go alone. Wait for me or Kurt to go with you.”

“I know—I know.” He slung an arm over her shoulder and cradled her into his arms. “I just wanted to get away from television, and I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I can’t stand daytime soap operas and was going stir crazy. It’s been weeks since the attack on me.”

“Don’t make me tie you to my bed.”

“I think you would like that too much. You have ulterior motives.” She blushed.

“Of course, I do. I need to keep you safe.”

“But being ready, willing, and waiting in your bed is a perk, right?”

“Absolutely.” He felt a familiar tug at his underwear. Having Lynne in his life kept him in a constant state of arousal. “I do have a surprise for you upstairs though.”

“Does it involve being in your bed?” God, he loved the sound of her tinkling laughter. Lazy images of her naked in his bed drifted through his mind.

“It should.” He grinned. “But I’m not telling until we get upstairs. It’s a surprise.”

“Shame on you for making me wait, Troy! I should say I am not going upstairs again, but I really need a nice surprise in my life right now.”

He wished he could give her something better, news of her friend recovering or get her job back, but he was no miracle worker. Little things he could do. Miracles were another thing altogether. “I know, Lynne, that’s why I’m here.”

* * * *

The pink plastic bag on the table with pretty curly ribbons looked like it was actually thought out. She expected flowers, maybe some other feel good gift, like chocolate. Oh hell, what she wouldn’t do for a chocolate bar right now, but she doubted the bag contained any of the fine, delicate candies.

Troy sat down in his favorite red leather chair and picked up his guitar next to him and strummed a few chords. “Go ahead. Open it.”

It was such a small package—it couldn’t contain much—maybe a nice new outfit. It was too big to be jewelry. She pulled out the thin white sparkly tissue and revealed a box. She pulled it out and excitement poured through her. It was a netbook, and it was pink!

“Squeee!” She held it up and screamed. Troy was her new hero.

“So does that mean you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” She ran across the room and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He laughed at her enthusiasm. “I thought you might—Hey! Watch the guitar, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” She pulled back just a bit. ”Sorry.”

“No problem, I don’t mind your kisses. They’re just better without a hard object between us.” He set down his guitar and pulled her into his lap. Her warm body nestled against his body. She blinked back tears, and he motioned back to the box on the table. “You always talk about how much you like to read all those classics you used to teach, now you can do it on this.”

“Without having to go out to the bookstore?”

“Well, yeah, but I also figured you could write on it, too.”

“I haven’t thought about writing for years. How did you know.”

“I didn’t, but I felt like you might have a story in your heart that needs to be told.”

“You are the sweetest sugar daddy ever! Thank you, Troy.”

“If you wanted to thank me properly, we could move this into the bedroom.”

She bit her lip, feeling his dick jump under her cunt. It was difficult to not rub against him, angling him better against her moist entrance. “You think you’re up for a little lovin'?”

“Honey, I’m always up for
that
.” Troy lifted her with ease and carried her into the bedroom.

* * * *

“So what are you going to write about?”

“I haven’t had a chance to think about it yet.”

Troy dumped her still slightly damp body on the bed with a thump. “You could write about your sex life.”

“That would make it short.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“I can help make it a lot longer.” He eased her tiny black bikini up and over her hips and sank down between her legs. “This could be chapter two.”

He cupped her mound and spread the pink, swollen lips of her pussy to reveal her hidden folds. She threw her head back to the pillows as his tongue lapped her clit and pulsed to her most intimate parts. His ministrations were slow at first, building in tension as he felt her squirm under him. He knew her body’s signs of pleasure and responded even before she knew she needed it. He mastered her desires and fanned the flames of rising pleasure. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, and her thigh muscles tensed around his head.

He brought her such joy on a daily basis. She wished she deserved this kind of love. This kind of loyalty from two of the sweetest, sexiest men she’d ever known. They filled her with hope.

“Time to turn the page. I want to feel you inside of me, Troy.” A fire of need and desire burned from within her. She was breathless—could hardly speak but for the need. A need only he could satisfy at the moment. If Kurt had been home, she would have wanted both of them to satisfy her.

"Are you nervous, darlin'? You scooted away from me. You know I wouldn't dream of hurting you."

"No, but sometimes bad memories slip into my mind."

"I swear I won't do anything you don't want to do, Lynne."

"I know, but..."

Very slowly, he knelt between her knees.

"Am I frightening you, darlin'?"

A sense of peace and serenity swept through her body, and she was able to open her legs wider.

"Tell me if you become afraid." Troy's voice rumbled from his chest. He slowly eased his body over hers.

"More, Troy,"

"Gentle as we go." He smiled and pressed his manhood into her wet pussy, filling her up so completely she nearly came on the spot.

One day, the threat to her life would be over, and the men would move on with their lives. Most likely, they would ask her to move out. But as long as they'd have her, she was going to enjoy every moment and savor every memory. Life was too short to waste. She wanted it all while she could have it.

If she was going to write about her life, she wasn’t looking forward to the final chapter.

Chapter Fourteen

How could this be happening again? Her life was just getting back on track and now...now things were worse, far worse than before.

Lynne couldn’t remember when she’d ever been so cold. Cold, frightened, and alone. Alone except for the same man who had attacked her before. Not that she was positive or anything, but he was wearing the same ski mask the other man had worn or one exactly like it.

He paced back and forth in front of her, mumbling dirty words and cursing the ceiling. Once in a while she could make out a word or two, but most was garbage. Threats she prayed he wouldn’t carry out.

Troy’s basement was filthy. Obviously no one had been down here in a long time. The cement floor was ice cold and damp under her bare feet. It hurt to even let them touch the rough cement. But it was almost impossible to not touch the floor the way she was sitting.

Her bare butt was killing her not to mention her arms, hands, and legs. To tell the truth, she hurt in places she didn’t even know existed until now. She tried to shift her weight, but the man had her duct taped so tightly to the ancient, rusty metal fold-up chair she could barely breathe, let alone move.