Falling for Them Volume 3: Reverse Harem Collection

by Amy Sumida

  Her self-pity was for naught anyway, she chided herself. Seth and Vaughn were clearly in a relationship, which meant she had the wrong equipment to bring to the party. Stupid breasts, she berated, scowling at them accusingly.

  “Ivory? Everything okay?”

  The deep voice had her jerking from her ridiculous inner ramblings. Focus, Ivory. Focus! “Yes. Sorry. I ah, I have everything you asked for,” she held up the box containing all the notes and ‘gifts’ her creepy stalker friend had given her.

  She walked back over to them a little cautiously. What were the chances the same three men of her dreams from the night before would be the same men from the security company she had contacted the week prior? It was a strange coincidence but at the same time, their little town didn’t have a whole lot of watering holes. The chance of them walking into hers was relatively high … she supposed. Boy, she really hoped she wasn’t making excuses for them because they happened to be pretty. She wished she could whip up a spell and peek into their heads – and other, naughtier places. Unfortunately, her glamour prevented it. Yes, it altered her appearance and hid her magical energy from other magic-users, but it also worked the other way as well – dampening her powers, her senses, and even inhibiting her natural instincts. Three things she really could have used right now.

  She placed the large box on the table, pushing it into the middle so they could all see its contents. The men stood in order to peer inside more fully and Ivory was blessed with the chance to appreciate the obvious strength in their bodies and the height of their frames. She had been right last night; they were well over six feet, with Seth being about two inches taller than Vaughn and three inches taller than Ronan. Seth was also carrying the most muscle – a fact she found most intriguing given he was clearly the youngest. She put him at around her age of thirty, if not a little younger. Ronan looked to be mid-thirties, while Vaughn was perhaps late-thirties or a very good looking forty. She wondered if Seth was like a boy-toy for the older man, but then remembered the way Vaughn had been looking at Seth when he had his arm wrapped around him. There had been definite heat there, but there had also been warmth. No, she decided, the relationship must be emotional as well as physical. She tried really hard not to let the green-eyed monster rear its ugly head over that. Jealousy was a very unattractive trait.

  “What’s this?” Seth asked, pointing to the unwrapped parcel from the night before.

  That’s right. There was a box full of disturbing trinkets from a likely psychopath in front of her. She’d do well to focus on that rather than the three men rummaging around in it, “It was on my doorstep last night after I closed down the bar. I decided not to open it because I knew I was meeting with you first thing this morning,” she glared at the newest package, resenting its existence. She had hardly slept at all last night because she had been so tempted to open it and see what was inside. It was like some kind of sick, morbid curiosity. She knew it wouldn’t be anything good, yet she couldn’t help wanting to rip the paper open. Even now, with the three men eyeing the innocent-looking brown paper, she wanted to yell at them to get into it.

  “What time did you discover it last night?” Ronan asked.

  “Just after three in the morning. The bar closes at three, so it was maybe twenty minutes after that,” she answered.

  “Do you always close the bar at that time?” The question came from Seth.

  “No. I mean, yes – the bar closes at three. But I’m not always the person who works the late shift. I’m on rotation with two other staff.”

  “Is it the same rotation every week?” he followed up.

  She shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip. Apparently, they weren’t just the hired muscle but also had some brain power behind them too, “It’s supposed to be,” she offered, in answer to Seth’s second question, “But I’m really flexible with the staff. Last minute changes to work hours happen almost every week.”

  Vaughn grunted at that, “You’re going to have to tell us your routines; what time you get up, what time you go to work, when you go to the grocery store, when you break for meals. And everything else in every minute of your day.”

  Every minute of the day? She forced herself not to fuss nervously with her hair or chew on her fingernails. This protection thing was going to be far more invasive than she had counted on. How was she going to keep her past a secret? She really didn’t like to lie. And yes, she knew how hypocritical that was given her entire face was one big illusion. Ronan must have picked up on her nerves, for he encouraged;

  “I know it sounds like we’re being nosy, but not only will that information help keep you safe, it will allow us to piece together a timeline of when your stalker has made contact in the past. Hopefully, we’ll be able to determine his routine and have him caught in no time.”

  She nodded her head, appreciating his logic. But it didn’t make her any less nervous, “The package …” She prompted, distracting herself and them from her anxiety.

  Seth looked toward the other two and Ronan gave a slight nod of his head. Clearly, that was all the go-ahead Seth needed, for he whipped out a switch-blade from his pocket and proceeded to slip the knife-edge under the tape holding the paper in place. A few deft slices and the paper fell away to reveal a plain white box.

  “Look familiar?” he asked.

  She was already nodding her head, “All the packages have been wrapped identically; brown paper, white box. All the notes are the same too; white envelopes, plain paper, black pen.”

  “Well, let’s see what we have in here, shall we?” Seth used the tip of the blade to push the lid of the box back.

  Black lace was folded neatly inside and he prodded it around just enough for her to make out that it was a g-string. Lovely, she thought, more lingerie. It had become a favourite present from her admirer over the past few weeks. She actually loved indulging in exotic lingerie and had a rather extensive collection in the top drawer of her dresser. She had to fight against the negative association every time she slipped into something satin or silk these days. But she wasn’t going to let the bastard take away her joy over her pretties.

  The men were still staring at the black lacey piece of underwear and she wondered what was holding their attention for so long. She looked a little closer and almost gagged; there was a distinctive off-white, crusty substance covering a large part of the material, “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” she clapped a hand over her mouth, already knowing the answer, but Vaughn spoke anyway;

  “If you think it’s jizz, then you are absolutely correct.”

  “Vaughn!” Ronan’s voice was reproachful over the seemingly blasé comment. But one look at Vaughn’s face and Ivory knew he was far from amused. His light green eyes were cold and hard, his jaw clenched so tightly she feared his teeth would crack.

  For some reason, his insult and anger on her behalf made her feel better and she felt herself relax a little, “Gross,” she muttered, screwing her face up in disgust and turning away.

  Ronan pushed the lid back onto the box, blocking the foul site from view, “Has this happened before? Have you ever received anything sexual? Anything with evidence of his release?”

  She sat back down and gestured to the large box in the middle of the table, “Some lingerie, massage oil, chocolate body paint. But nothing with,” she arched a brow in Vaughn’s direction, “jizz on it.”

  Vaughn’s lips twitched and he dipped his head in her direction, before pulling the items out of the box, “Will you put these in chronological order for us, please?”

  She spent the next hour explaining the origins of the items and the timeframe. The men asked numerous questions – many she had already thought of, but some she hadn’t. Maybe Libby had been right when she recommended bodyguards. She was feeling safer already – from her stalker at least. She was still feeling very insecure regarding keeping her secrets hidden and also over the general hotness of the boys. Both could prove to be dangerous distractions.

  F
inally, Vaughn leaned back in his chair with a huge sigh; “Well, I’d say you’ve got yourself a predatory stalker.”

  “So you don’t think I’m overreacting?” she held her breath in anticipation of their answer. She didn’t know whether she wanted them to tell her she was being a drama queen or that her fears were valid.

  “No, we don’t,” Ronan assured her, “There are multiple typologies that can be used to help categorise a stalker’s behaviour. As Vaughn said, your description of the events and the evidence in this box here, are very reminiscent of a predatory stalker. Although, it’s interesting – it looks like it started out more intimacy-seeking and has now devolved.”

  “I take it, that’s a bad thing,” she guessed.

  Seth was frowning even as he nodded, “Unfortunately, yes. You see, these very early notes and gifts – they were innocent, romantic even, as if he were trying to entice you into a real relationship. Over time, the correspondence became bitter, then angry, but now it is filled with rage. The dead rabbit is another example of that rage. Usually, intimacy-seeking stalkers believe their victim is their one true love and that their love is reciprocated. I imagine not returning his love letters and throwing out his precious gifts, made him think you did not, in fact, love him back.”

  “Of course I don’t love him!” she exclaimed, “I don’t even know him!”

  “That’s not what he believes. And it’s likely not all that accurate either. The vast majority of stalkers are friends or family. At the very least, acquaintances. Chances are, you’ve met him.”

  Even though she had considered that possibility, had even scrutinised all her staff and customers, it still gave her a serious case of the heebie-jeebies. She shook it off, knowing they would soon be investigating everyone she knew anyway, “You said predatory stalker. Sounds ominous.”

  “It is,” Vaughn growled, “Predatory stalkers aren’t interested in a relationship. Their focus is on control, violence, and sexual gratification. They’re total nut jobs,” Vaughn added, in what she was beginning to realise was his typical blunt way.

  “Great,” she blew out a breath, pushing her loosened hair back, “So … what now?”

  “Now we check out your bar, your apartment – any of your frequent haunts. We need to analyse your current level of security and also see where we’ll be staying.”

  “What? Staying?” she sat up straight, “You’re going to stay here? All of you?” Man, she really hoped her voice didn’t sound so breathless to their ears because it sure did to her own.

  Vaughn frowned – actually it was closer to a glower Ivory thought, beginning to understand it was a common expression for him. She wished it was a turn-off. She really didn’t enjoy sullen men. But she found the way the lines crinkled around his eyes sexy. And the way his nose scrunched up just a little with every scowl? Totally adorable! She shook her head. She was losing it. Maybe Libby was right, her last sexcapades had been far too long ago and now she was suffering from too much estrogen or something. An outlet. She needed an outlet, that was all.

  “Of course we’ll be staying here. That’s what you hired us for, isn’t it? A personal bodyguard?” Vaughn followed up his sexy, adorable glare with his sexy, adorable voice.

  Yep. Definitely losing it. She had to think of something fast. Not only did she not want strangers in her space – what if they found her witchy stash? She also did not trust herself around them. She totally did not want these three men to become her outlet – no matter what her hormones thought, “No. I mean yes. Yes, I did hire a personal bodyguard. But I thought there was just one of you. I mean, how much is this going to cost me? I can’t afford your fee times three.”

  There, she congratulated herself, that sounded logical.

  “The fee we quoted you is for all of us. We work as a team,” Vaughn’s response was flat, no nonsense.

  “Ivory …” Ronan’s deep voice drew her attention, “… you have a stalker. One who has been sending you things for months, including soiled underwear and dead animals right to your doorstep. He knows where you live, Ivory. Let us help you. This is what we do.”

  And with that happy reminder, Ivory felt her lust extinguish. They were right. There was some crazy person out there going around killing bunnies in order to gain her attention. All the years hiding, uprooting herself from town to town … she was sick of it. She loved it here. She wouldn’t be forced out of her home by some whack-job. She just had to be careful what she said and did in front of her bodyguards. She had no doubt they were good at their jobs. The barest whiff that she was hiding something and she was positive they would sniff out every single one of her secrets. And if that happened, having a stalker wouldn’t matter anyway. She would have to run again anyhow. But ultimately, she needed help and she needed it now.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just a little overwhelming to me. I still find it hard to believe anyone would go to so much trouble for this,” she flapped a hand at herself.

  Ronan scoffed, “What do you mean? You’re beautiful. I’m sure you have men lining up.”

  Ivory looked at him in shock. He thought she was beautiful? That was not going to help her aforementioned estrogen problem. He seemed just as stunned by his admission as she was if the horrified look on his face was anything to go by. Looking around, she saw Vaughn’s infamous scowl firmly in place and what appeared to be a knowing – and very amused – smirk on Seth’s lips.

  Ronan cleared his throat, “Anyway, let’s get to it. Seth, you check the perimeter; Vaughn, scope out Ivory’s apartment. I’ll go grab our stuff from the hotel and check out. I’ll meet you back here in about an hour,” he finished, standing to his impressive height.

  Vaughn stopped him before he could make it three steps, “Be careful,” he demanded, “guys like this tend to be voyeurs. Chances are they won’t take kindly to three men making house with the object of their desire.”

  “Yes dear,” was Ronan’s response and Ivory felt her mouth fall open for the second time that morning. Vaughn had just growled sexily and then proceeded to kiss Ronan full on the mouth.

  What the …? She must have made some sound – hopefully not some kind of weird mating call like she wanted to – for Vaughn narrowed his eyes;

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing! It’s just that … well, I thought you two were a couple. I mean, you and Seth …” She stammered. Smooth, real smooth, Ivory.

  “We are,” Vaughn crossed his arms a little belligerently, “But so are Ronan and I, and Seth and Ronan. We’re all in a relationship.”

  “Oh,” was the only response her dry mouth could muster. They were all in a relationship.

  “Do you have a problem with that?” Ronan asked, moss-green eyes narrowed in her direction.

  Hell yes, she had a problem with that. She had a problem because she wanted to tackle the three of them to the floor and get to the sweaty, messy, satisfying, kinky sex this instant! The three of them were together? All of them? At the same time? It was like a dream come true, a honest to goodness fantasy brought to life. Instead of saying all that out loud though she merely squeaked;

  “No. No problem.”

  Chapter Seven

  Vaughn studied their newest client with great interest. He was wildly attracted to her – something he had been since the moment he had first heard that throaty voice of hers. Ignoring the very peculiar fact that she smelled like a mixture of all of them, he had no idea why such chemistry would be there. She wasn’t anything like his previous type in women. He had liked them tall, stacked, and dumb. It was superficial and shallow of him but that’s exactly what he had been before his relationship with Ronan and Seth. He had definitely been the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He couldn’t even blame it on the fact that familiars rarely indulged in long-term relationships. He simply had no desire to commit to anyone – ever. That was despite the warm fuzzy feelings and rampant desire he’d suppressed for Ronan throughout the generations.

  Until Seth had barged into th
eir lives, Vaughn had honestly never contemplated acting on those desires. But the kid had made a compelling argument and he had never looked back. So why was he practically hypnotised by the sway of Ivory’s feminine hips as she preceded him up the stairs? It was very curious. And despite the old adage, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, he fully intended to indulge his curiosity.

  “How long have you lived here?” he asked, taking the key from her hands before she could slide it into the lock, “Let me go in first.”

  She pressed her lips together tightly but didn’t say anything, allowing him to insert the key and open the door, “Almost five years now,” she answered, as he stepped into the room, his heightened hearing confirming the apartment was indeed empty.

  “Did you always want to be a bar owner?” he questioned, trying to get a feel for her as their client, but also genuinely interested in getting to know her better. She didn’t really have the look of a bar owner – wasn’t edgy enough.

  The room he stepped into didn’t mesh with what he knew of the woman standing next to him either. It was filled with bold colours, over-sized furniture and a truly eclectic array of art. A huge built-in bookcase graced an entire wall, teal lounges with striped cushions sectioned off the living area from the open-plan kitchen with its white quartz counter tops and dark stained cabinets. The huge rug dominating the whitewashed floors was a striking magenta with the remaining furniture all dark wood and antique looking.