And she figured that was the reason she was feeling so guilty about the whole thing. But that was what she did. Right or wrong, Sam had impulse-control issues, and Logan and Elijah knew it, yet they still loved her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure why.
“Well, they wouldn’t’ve done it if they didn’t want to,” Sierra noted.
That was what Sam had thought, too. Granted, that didn’t assuage the guilt she felt for manipulating them into it. Sometimes her ideas weren’t the best ones, but that rarely stopped her from pushing. It had been selfish on her part; she knew that.
“Has anythingmorehappened?” Sierra held up a hand. “Hold that thought.”
The waiter reappeared so they could place their order. Sam asked for another drink while she was at it. After he’d jotted it all down and promised to bring them some bread, he disappeared again.
“When we were in Vegas, and they were alone”—Sam lowered her voice—“I think that was the first time since.”
Sierra’s eyebrows bounced, her silent request for more details.
“They jacked each other off.”
Sierra fanned herself, grinning. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me already.”
“It wasn’t my place to tell.”
Her friend laughed. “But it is now?”
“No.” Sam took a gulp of her drink. “But I need some advice.”
Sierra sat up straighter. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I happen to be rather experienced when it comes to men fighting their attraction for one another.”
Sam would definitely consider Sierra the resident expert. She’d heard the stories of how things had progressed between Sierra, Luke, and Cole back in the beginning. She knew Luke had fought his attraction to Cole, his desires for the man, and it had caused all kinds of problems between the three of them. Thankfully, they were able to figure it out without too much carnage left in their wake.
“I’m not sure it’s the same between Logan and Eli,” Sam admitted. “I mean, the way Luke and Cole look at each other … I’m not sure Logan or Eli have those types of feelings.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve got to let them figure it out for themselves.”
That was sound advice, and Sam knew she had to back off. Didn’t mean she could, because, again, impulse control wasn’t her strong suit.
“They’ll figure it out,” Sierra reassured her. “Give it time.”
“In the meantime, they’re going to kill me,” she said on a huff. “They’re taking it out on me.”
Sierra’s eyes glittered. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
It wasn’t. Necessarily.
While they’d always had an active sex life—on average, they had sex four times a week—it hadn’t been nearly as intense as this past week had been. And while she loved sex, it was the volatility that came with it that was exhausting her. She was used to the laid-back, take-your-sweet-time-getting-to-the-finish-line kind of encounters. This week had been chock full of blisteringly hot, mind-blowing sprints that left her breathless and worn out.
“I think they need to talk it out,” Sam said, finishing off the first of many drinks to come.
“Talk?” Sierra snorted. “Men don’t talk, Sam. They bottle it up until they can’t contain it, and then it erupts. The ensuing storm usually levels everything in its path. But thankfully, in the aftermath, they usually figure it out.”
Sam wasn’t sure she could handle the storm that was brewing.
“You said Elijah’s out of town, right?”
Sam nodded.
“While you’ve got Logan alone, maybe the two of you can do some role-playing.”
“What?” Sam’s laugh burst free. “You want me to pretend to be Elijah?”
Sierra shrugged one shoulder. “Could it hurt? Maybe Logan can figure out what he wants that way.”
