“What happened?” Thoreau asked quietly.
“Neglect.” Her voice was flat but her gray-green eyes flashed with restrained anger. “My parents had a few issues. That’s the nicest way for me to say it. My mother didn’t believe in divorce or medicine. My father had been fine for years, but then he started hearing voices and getting paranoid. It wasn’t until I was in college that I realized he had been suffering from schizophrenia, but back then, he was just frightening. I took care of my sister when we weren’t at school, but—”
She’d wrapped her arms around herself so tightly that her fingers were turning white, so Wyatt took one and rubbed the blood back into it while Thoreau did the same with the other. She barely seemed to notice.
“We never had a lot, but eventually, because of those issues of theirs, we lost our house. We lost our car. Every time I came home from school another piece of my life was gone. We walked the streets at night, more than once, looking for my father because my mother had no one to leave us with. In the end, we were at a very cheap motel, and she was working at a restaurant across the street to sneak food home for us while I washed our clothes in a dirty bathtub. And I was a teenager, so of course I was angry about it all the time. Ashamed.” She took a breath and squeezed their hands.
“Jesus, Fi,” Wyatt swore, pulling her into his lap and pressing his lips to her temple. “Who wouldn’t be?”
“Elaine,” Fiona answered with a wobbly smile. “She was never angry. She still believed it was temporary. That we’d have a home soon. I sent emails to my mother’s sister from the school library, asking if she’d take us in, but she never did anything but promise to pray for us. Who says that to a kid begging for help?”
Thoreau reached out to rub her shoulder and his eyes met Wyatt’s. He looked about as shell-shocked as Wyatt felt. To go from nothing for years to this? It was more than either of them had expected.
Fiona gave a shuddering sigh. “I was so angry I didn’t notice that Elaine had stopped talking. Stopped smiling. That she had a fever. By the time I did, it was too late. My mother wouldn’t let me take her to the hospital, and my father was too busy talking to himself in the corner to listen. She died that night. I still don’t know exactly why.”
“God,” Thoreau whispered. “God, Fi.”
“After that I walked out with the clothes I had on my back. I kept going until I ran into the only person who had any idea about what I was going through.” She wiped her cheeks and laughed. “The school librarian, Aisha. She had a full-time job and she was going to college. But even with all that on her plate, she made the time to take care of me. She let me stay with her until I could be emancipated, and after that I never saw my parents again.”
Wyatt held her tighter. Jesus. All this time, he’d imagined her as a happy, giggling girl in pigtails, her hands, face and most of her bedroom wall covered in finger paint. Basically, his cousin’s daughter Penny with darker hair. He’d had no idea things had been that bad, or that she’d been out in the world alone for so long.
He knew a lot about the life she’d experienced since she left that motel room. That she’d hiked through Europe. Spent one summer in a yurt full of people for a friend’s social experiment. She’d been to the Grand Canyon and snorkeled around the Great Barrier Reef. Fiona had managed to get her degrees and fill every break between semesters with more adventures than most people had in a lifetime.
And now she was here. With Thoreau and a guy who’d never gone much farther than Spring Break in Cancun.
It was a physical ache in his chest, thinking about everything that could have happened, all the things that could have stopped her from finding her way to him.
To them.
Her sigh sounded more like a sob. “Aren’t you glad you wanted to hear my story?”
“Yes,” Thoreau answered fiercely. “And we want more, when you’re ready, Fiona. We want all of it. Nothing you could say will change the way we feel about you.”
“You think so?” There was a bitter tinge to her voice and Thoreau didn’t like it either.
“Don’t think we don’t know exactly who you are now, Fi. We do. The details of how you came to be the amazing woman you are won’t change that.”
“He’s right.” Wyatt’s voice was even more raspy than usual from the emotion coursing through him. “I’m not saying I don’t want to find your parents and knock their heads together for what they did to you and your sister, but I’m proud of you for getting away from that. For taking care of yourself.”
“I didn’t tell you before because it’s not who I am anymore. I went through years of therapy and got a master’s in the subject just to make sure I wasn’t like them. That I’d never be like them.”
Wyatt shook his head against her neck. “You don’t feel sorry for Owen’s husband Jeremy, do you?”
“Of course not. But he’s famous and wealthy and married to his best friend. He seems pretty happy.”
“His parents were a fucking mess. They kicked him out for being gay when he was a kid, but he had Owen and Aunt Ellen to come to.”
“I never knew that,” Thoreau said.
Fiona shook her head. “Neither did I.”
“But you both know about Jake.”
He knew they did. Jake had only been a few years old, on the street with his mother, when Seamus gave them a place to sleep for the night. After Jake’s mother died trying to get them out of a bad situation, Seamus adopted him as his own. Their relationship was one of the purest Wyatt had ever witnessed. Absolute and unconditional love. They couldn’t be any closer if they were related by blood.
“I’m just saying, I think sometimes maybe the people we choose,” he said, trying to find the way to express what he was feeling. “The people who find us when we’re lost or drifting or invisible can become their own kind of family. Your librarian. Jeremy and Owen. Jake and Seamus. The three of us.”
Fiona leaned back to look up into Wyatt’s face, and then behind him at Thoreau. “The three of us?”
Heat flooded Wyatt’s face. “I just meant… Fuck, I’m just saying—”
“We got you, Finn,” Thoreau said with a broad smile, which was tinged with both relief and humor. “You like us.”
“You make good beer. That’s all you’re getting right now.”
Fiona’s smile was softer, but still uncertain.
“This sharing experiment took a wrong turn,” she joked weakly. “And here I was hoping you were trying to take advantage.”
“You know how I love to experiment,” Thoreau said, humor more evident in his voice. “And take advantage. But I suppose we could always go back to talking about Wyatt’s favorite sock.”
Wyatt growled against her and she laughed. “I really want to hear about that sock now.”
“Sock puppet,” he said, lifting his head to glare at Thoreau as he admitted his deepest shame. “It was a damn doll some girl from school made me in second grade, and I slept with it for a while, okay? Noah doesn’t even know about it, so you both need to take that to the grave.”
Fiona ran her hands through his hair. “A little sock doll? That is the cutest thing I ever heard, firecracker. And it explains why you’re so good at cuddling. You had practice.”
Thoreau covered his mouth and hooted with laughter. “I thought you were talking about something else, man.”
“I know you did.” Wyatt tried not to smile but it wasn’t working. “I had another sock for that and it lived under the bed. It might still be there. Full of…memories.”
“That is nasty.” Thoreau grimaced. “We’re all glad you graduated to showers.”
Fiona shook her head as they laughed, and he could see her dark mood had disappeared. “Men and masturbation. The great equalizer.”
Wyatt pulled her closer, needing to touch her. “Everybody does it, Fi. A little release is good for the soul. I already know how much you like it. I know you like to watch it, too.”
“Does she?” Thoreau’s smooth voice had dee
pened. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Fiona looked wary again. “What’s going on right now?”
Wyatt caressed the curve of her hip suggestively. “Hopefully, exactly what you’re thinking. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For us to share?”
Her eyes went wide as saucers.
“Are you sure, Wyatt? The last time we talked about it, you said something like ‘never in a million years.’”
“I’m learning that things change.” Whether he was ready or not. “We’ll need to go slow, but I want to do this. For you. With you.”
“Agreed.” The desire in Thoreau’s voice added fuel to the fire of Wyatt’s own need. “Now all Fiona has to do is say yes.”
She stared at them for a long moment, obviously wrestling with some conflicting emotions. What was holding her back? What couldn’t she tell them?
He wanted to ask, but then she sighed and her expression cleared.
“Yes.”
Chapter Eight
Wyatt
Yes.
Wyatt claimed her mouth as soon as she said the word, needing to show her much she meant to him. To make her feel good the only way he knew how. He stroked her thighs, her hips, growling as he took in the flavor of fruit and spice that filled her mouth. He had to get inside her now. Yesterday. It had been too fucking long.
The plan.
He opened his eyes and looked at Thoreau through a lust-filled haze. He was watching, staring with an undisguised hunger that gave Wyatt a jolt. Thoreau wanted his turn with Fiona, he told himself. He couldn’t forget their deal. Not tonight.
You like him watching. Admit it.
Before he could argue with himself, Fiona was pulling away from him. “I need a minute to freshen up.”
“You smell fresh enough to me,” Wyatt teased, sniffing down into her shirt playfully.
She wrapped her arms around his head and hummed her approval for a minute before shaking her head. “A minute. I’ll be right back, I promise. There’s no way I’m letting you out of this now.”
He let her up reluctantly, watching as she wobbled away from him on shaky legs.
“Don’t worry, Finn. She’s coming back.” Thoreau grinned, getting up to clear the coffee table. “And so am I.”
When he walked into the kitchen with a stack of plates, Wyatt adjusted the emergency situation in his shorts. Relax, buddy. We’ve got all night. She’ll be back.
They’ll be back.
He leaned his head back on the couch cushion and sighed. If Thor had been trying to get him a little drunk to make this easier, it was working, because the idea of sharing her was looking better all the time.
The casually romantic dinner Thor had planned out had worked, too. At first. Things got heavy pretty quick, but that was on him. Hearing about the way Thoreau’s loving, happy family of bookish geniuses had accepted Hugo had made him wish Elder was alive for five more minutes so he could pop him a good one right in the jaw.
And Fiona… Her trust tonight had been a gift, as painful as the memories were to hear. It made him feel closer to her. Necessary.
He didn’t think he could have this kind of a connection outside of family. Noah had been his sounding board and secret keeper. He used to worry that without him he’d be nothing but the grunt his father made. A cut-out. If he wasn’t Noah’s brother, if he wasn’t one of those Finn boys, who and what would he be?
Maybe he was finding out. Here, he was just Wyatt, couch surfer, book and cereal stealer, taster of refreshing beers. He was Fiona’s guy on Thor’s team, and it could be the beer, but right now that sounded pretty damn good to him.
Thoreau came back for the rest of the plates and Wyatt leaned forward. “Want some help?”
“Nah, I’ve already put the leftovers away. Just dropping these in the sink to soak. You sit there and relax.”
“I’m amazing at that.”
Wyatt stared at Thoreau’s retreating back. He wasn’t a bad guy, once you got over how handsome, successful and massively hung he was. They had more in common than Wyatt thought. Most of it family, sure, but not all.
He might be a little too intense and organized, but he’d also been crazy enough to drop his pants to prove a point.
Wyatt snickered.
The man had balls. Wyatt now knew that in a very literal sense. And he’d also been as up-front as he could be about how he expected things to go. Thoreau would follow his lead.
God, that thought shouldn’t make him so hard, should it?
“All good, Finn?” Thoreau dropped down beside him, glancing toward the hallway before meeting his gaze with an encouraging smile. “Are you ready for this?”
“Phase two?” Wyatt joked, his hand dropping to adjust the erection in his shorts again. “I’m ready. Go team.”
Thoreau smirked, and then Fiona appeared, still dressed, but with a freshly scrubbed face and a hesitant smile. Wyatt opened his arms and she instantly straddled his lap, wrapping herself around him.
There it was. Her warm summer scent. Soft skin pressed against him as her heart beat in time with his. If Wyatt had a purpose, an ambition, it was to be what this woman needed, so he could feel this connection for the rest of his life.
A punch of arousal hardened his already stiff erection as she turned her head and Thoreau leaned in to take his turn with her mouth. Wyatt tamped down his initial instinct to drag her away, forcing himself to watch them together. To see their mouths smile against each other’s before Thoreau teased her lips open with playful licks and love bites.
To watch Thoreau’s lashes flutter closed when she kissed him fully, sliding her tongue along his and moaning into his mouth.
He was just as gone over her as Wyatt was.
Her hand curled into Wyatt’s shirt as she kissed Thoreau, and her legs tightened around his hips to connect him to this moment. His hands slid up and down her sides, restless as he kept his gaze trained on their mouths.
It wasn’t jealousy he was feeling. Thoreau knew her almost as well as Wyatt did. And they both wanted the same things. To give her pleasure. To keep her. His hands lowered to her hips and he pressed her heated sex against his aching cock. He wasn’t jealous. He was impatient to join in.
His body knew his hang-ups were bullshit.
“Fiona,” he rasped. She kissed Thoreau one last time before turning toward him with desire in her stormy eyes. “I think it’s my turn again.”
She met him halfway, moaning against his lips. She melted into him as he took control, tilting his head and claiming her with the taste of Thoreau still on her tongue. Her mouth was his weakness. The first time she’d kissed him he realized what he’d been missing out on. He’d always seen kissing as a base to round on the way to his goal.
Her lips were the goal.
He could spend hours doing this. Until both their lips were swollen and sensitive. Until they were both so turned on that they could come with a single thrust of his cock inside her.
He never wanted to stop.
“Just helping out.”
Fiona left his mouth with a gasp at Thoreau’s words and Wyatt opened his eyes to see the man lifting her tank over her head. He dropped it beside them and flicked open the pale lavender bra, revealing her full breasts to both their gazes.
“Very helpful.”
He’d thought he had her body memorized, but it had been so long. Her breasts looked heavier than they had before. Ripe and delicious. His mouth watered, longing for a taste.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Fiona stared at him, her lips parting as Thoreau’s dark, masculine hands cupped and squeezed her bare breasts from behind.
“You want to see my doctor’s note?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.” He ran one rough fingertip across the soft curves of her breasts, watching Thor touch her, seeing her eyes darken in reaction. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t okay.”
Thoreau’s breath came out in a soft laugh. “Yes, you would.”
/> Wyatt thought about the lumpy mattress he’d been enduring for the last month. “Yes, I would. But I’m good, Fi. If you are.”
She bit her lip, glancing at the man behind her when he tweaked her nipples playfully. “Oh that’s... Um, other than being worried you’re going to stop, or that I’ll wake up and realize I fell asleep at work and this was just a dream? I’m good, too.”
Wyatt’s smile was crooked, his eyes still on Thoreau’s hands. “Like this.” He took one breast in his hand, replacing Thoreau’s touch with his own. “She loves what you were doing, but when you want to get her attention…” He trailed off as he took her nipple between his fingers and tightened his grip the way she’d taught him, playing until her back arched and her eyes closed on a shuddering moan.
“Oh my God, Wyatt.”
“Listen to her,” Thoreau said, pressing his smiling lips against her neck as he watched Fiona’s reaction. “I didn’t realize she was that sensitive. Just one touch and she’s riding your lap like she’s ready to come.”
Wyatt bit his lip as Fiona rubbed against his cock, wishing his shorts would disappear. Wishing he was already inside her. He watched as Thoreau mimicked his move, Fiona crying out loudly at the dual sensations. She did seem more sensitive than usual. Maybe the waiting had gotten to her, too.
Or maybe it was this. Knowing there were two men touching her. Two men needing her.
“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? At night, when your light stayed on for hours after you pretended to be tired? Was this what you were imagining?”
“Yes,” she confessed shamelessly, her head now back on Thoreau’s shoulder as she writhed in their arms. “Every night.”
“Show us what you did when you thought about us,” he demanded. “Let Thor see how hard you can make yourself come.”
His heart pounded at the vulnerability he saw in her eyes. She needed this. Needed him to take control. He snagged a handful of hair at her nape, his knuckles brushing Thoreau’s shoulder as he tugged lightly. When her hand dropped between her legs, he smiled. “That’s right. Show us what you like, sweet girl.”
Breathless-kindle Page 10
