One For All: A Reverse Harem Box Set

by Mia Moon

  I opened my mouth and swirled my tongue around the tip of Ken’s length.

  I loved my men.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  I perched on the stool in the kitchen, scrutinizing my latest computer animation. The oven dinged, and I spun, grabbing my oven mitts and rushing over. I quickly but carefully pulled the glass dish out and set it on the stove top.

  The mouth-watering aroma of lemon-pepper cod filled my nostrils. I fanned my face and eyed the rest of the dishes. A flavorful bowl of brown rice and grilled asparagus sat to one side. To the other was a covered pan of chicken breasts coated with spicy mango sauce and a mixed squash casserole.

  “They’re almost here,” Nathan said entering the kitchen and putting his phone down on the island.

  I did a little dance which led him to grab me close. Last night was their final game of the season, and it had been out of state. Of course, they’d kicked ass. Nathan and I had watched the live stream together at a bar.

  I’d wanted to go and watch in person, but Nathan couldn’t get away from work and I didn’t want to go without him. I still didn’t understand the game unless he was explaining it to me.

  “Why couldn’t we pick them up from the airport?” I grumbled.

  “Tradition. They ride together back just like they rode together there. You know that.”

  I pouted and tossed my mitts aside. “It’s stupid.”

  He looked over at my laptop. “How’s work?”

  "Fine. I'm about to send this off, then we enter the next phase of development. Mostly testing and adjusting everything to this point before we move on to the seco—"

  He interrupted me with a kiss, spinning me away from my computer. With a quick motion, he lifted me to the counter and stood between my legs.

  “I wish we had time for something before dinner,” he said with a sigh. “Listening to you work makes me so hard.”

  I laughed and combed my fingers through his dark waves. “I don’t understand that.”

  “You get so focused. I just want to get inside you and distract you until you don’t even know your own name.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “You love that about me.”

  “Mmmhmm. I love you and everything about you,” I said before kissing him.

  Over the last twelve, I'd told each of the men I loved them. As the guys had said, Nathan moved in within a week of our first group, uh, encounter. I’d followed a month later.

  And you know what? It was bliss. Sheer bliss.

  And though this had to be the hundredth time of saying I love you to Nathan, it still felt new. Our lives were crazy, and now we were heading for what would be our biggest test. We were even talking about babies. The season was over soon, and I was going to stop taking the pill. It made me giddy to think about. But I knew they’d be the best dads…

  The door flew open and within moments I was being passed around my crazy sexy team.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Alex groaned into my ear as he hugged me tight, pulling me from a quick kiss with Josh. “I’m just gonna steal you,” he said jokingly as he lifted me into his arms and made to dash from the room.

  “No, no,” I said laughing. “I made dinner!”

  He looked back to the kitchen suspiciously. “It smells like fish.”

  "There are tuna steaks and mango chicken," I said with a grin.

  Alex hated fish with a passion I would never understand.

  He put me down on my feet and slapped my ass. “Alright. Let’s eat. Then you get naked.”

  I laughed and watched them grab plates and glasses. Ken embraced me from behind.

  “We missed you,” he whispered.

  “I missed you too. Though I watched you guys crush that other team last night.”

  “Easier to win when we think you may be watching,” he joked. “We can’t look bad and then expect to come home and ravish you.”

  “Right.”

  “How’s work? You said something about worrying about a deadline?”

  I shook my head. “Everything is sorted and back on track.”

  “And, how are you?”

  I looked back at him, searching his blue eyes. “Glad you’re all finally back home where you belong.”

  He kissed my temple and gestured towards the food.

  I held back for a moment, just to watch my wild men. Nathan, the dark, broody man who was sometimes too much — but who was always respectful of my boundaries. Alex, the one who would never let a day go by without calling me pretty. Josh, the serious one most likely to pull me into a closet for one-on-one time.

  And Ken, my perfect crush. The one who brought us all together.

  I loved them all.

  THE END

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  CLAIMING HER COWBOYS

  A Cowboy Romance

  Chapter One

  The north-south interstate that cut through western Montana was at least thirty miles away, but it might as well have been on Mars.

  My GPS had stopped working fifteen minutes ago, I had no cell signal and to top it off, the night was moonless and inky black.

  And my car had broken down.

  “Dammit,” I said aloud, thrusting open the door to my rental car and stepping into the crisp spring air. I should’ve taken the car rental woman’s advice to get a truck or an SUV, but I’d wanted to go easy on my magazine’s travel budget and so I’d chosen the economy option.

  Well the economy option sucked, that was evident.

  The check engine light came on right about the time I pulled off the Interstate. I figured it wasn’t a big deal because I only had about forty or fifty miles to my destination. Maybe less. Surely I’d make it, I thought.

  I let out a strangled scream and kicked the tire. My voice didn’t even echo, that’s how dense the stillness and vast the night sky was.

  What the hell was I supposed to do? Everything about this trip was going wrong. Starting with the delayed flight from New York to the layover in St. Louis with the screaming baby, to leaving my beloved e-reader in the seat pocket of the last flight, this assignment to write about romantic Montana travel spots was getting worse by the minute.

  A flash of light illuminated my little hatchback, and I looked up, squinting into headlights.

  Oh, great. What next? A serial killer?

  Setting my expression into my best New York City bitch face, I crossed my arms. It was a truck, a big one. I wasn’t even sure the kind; hell, I was a city girl and preferred the L train from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

  I’d only gotten a driver’s license last year so I could travel on assignment for American Life, the magazine I worked for. I had no problem in Florida, DC, Chicago and even Austin, Texas.

  Montana was a different story. It was the wildest place I’d ever been. And I hadn’t even seen it in the daytime.

  The truck’s driver didn’t kill the headlights, and I held a hand up to my forehead, shielding my eyes. The driver’s door swung open, and a figure slipped out of the cab. I saw long legs, a cowboy hat and, of course, heard the crunch of cowboy boots on the roadside gravel. It was a man, and my heart quickened.

  “Need help?”

  Something about the tone — low and resonant — made the hair on my neck stand up. Not as a warning, not as in, this-guy’s going to rape and kill me, but in a totally different way. A primal, masculine way.

  Down, girl. Don’t fall in love with the first cowboy you hear.

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you for stopping.” I was nothing if not polite. “The check engine light came on a while back and I thought I could make it to where I was going. I was wrong, I guess.”

  By now, the cowboy was in front of me. He took off his hat and glanced at the car. Then at me.

  Good God, were all cowboys in Montana this handsome? He had lips that would be in demand on a billboard in Times Square. And his hair was longish and soft-looking. I wa
sn’t entirely sure of the color, but whatever it was, it was most likely something stunning.

  And even though it was nighttime, I could discern the color of his eyes from the illumination of the headlights. They were a dark, velvety navy blue.

  “How long ago did the light come on?”

  “Well, let’s see.” I laughed nervously, because as much as I wanted to talk to this beautiful specimen of a man, I was suddenly nervous. Which is odd, since in New York, I’m never nervous around men. “Right around the time I got off.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, and I realized what I’d just said. Dammit! Hopefully he couldn’t see me blush in the darkness.

  “Got off the interstate,” I said quickly.

  “Open up the hood, will you?”

  For some reason my Converse sneakers didn’t make the same satisfying crunch on the gravel that his boots did, and I opened my door. That’s when I realized I had no idea how to open the hood. Or the trunk.

  “Uh, I think it’s right—” I bent down and twisted a few knobs. The windshield wipers came on, then some wiper spray. A fine mist hit me in the face and I yelped.

  “Here,” he said, stepping behind me. His body was entirely too close. Unlike guys in New York who either wore really baggy jeans or really skinny tapered jeans, this man wore honest-to-God dungarees. Worn to a proper faded blue.

  “May I?”

  “Oh, yes. Sorry.” I stepped back as he leaned over to flick a little button on the dash. It allowed me to check out his ass. Guys in New York had skinny butts from all the walking. This guy’s butt was just right. I stepped aside and pretended to be fascinated by the fact that the hood had popped open.

  “It’s a rental.” I waved my hand in the air as he walked to the front of the car. “You know, the trunk button’s different in each car.”

  Were they? I wasn’t even sure.

  He looked at me and grinned, a lopsided lazy smile that revealed straight teeth. “The hood, you mean.”

  “That. Yes.” I laughed and came around to his side. He smelled like fresh water and pristine fields and something else. I took a deep inhale.

  Leather. He smelled like leather. Yum.

  Unfortunately, a nasty, oil-like odor came from the engine, and interrupted my building olfactory orgasm. With a broad hand, he extracted what looked like a wand from somewhere deep in the bowls of all the metal, then slid it back in slowly.

  If I wasn’t so screwed with this assignment and this rental car, I’d spend more time thinking about him grabbing me with those hands with the same finesse. But the way he shook his head sent a wave of panic through me.

  “Why didn’t you stop at the interstate when you got off? There are service stations that could have helped. Would’ve been better than being out here, stranded and alone.”

  I straightened my spine. “I didn’t think I was that far from my destination.”

  “Well, you ain’t making it to your destination in this car tonight.”

  I blinked several times. “Crap,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to where you’re going.” He paused. “Where are you going, anyway?”

  With a sigh, I poked my head into the driver’s side, rummaging around empty water bottles, a coffee cup, a bag of potato chips, my purse, some makeup…

  Where the hell was my phone? “I can tell you soon, ah! Here it is.” I turned to look over my shoulder, and he was behind me.

  Was he staring at my ass? No. I looked plain, in my converse, black jeans and black T-shirt. Like a New Yorker, not a country girl. Which is probably what a guy like him preferred.

  I eased out of the car and focused on my phone. “I don’t have cell service here. Dammit. I can’t get my email with the address.”

  I looked up. He wore an amused grin and tapped on his phone. “You’re in the mountains.”

  He pressed the cell to his ear.

  “I see that.”

  “There’s only one carrier that works up here, and I’m guessing you don’t have it. Hello? Sam?” He eyed me as he spoke. “Can you come tow a car? Up on Creek Highway, right about near the mill. Yeah. Red hatchback, a rental. Thanks.”

  “Shouldn’t we stay here and wait? What if someone comes along and steals it?”

  My sexy savior chuckled. “Where you from? No one’s going to steal this. For one, it doesn’t have four-wheel drive. And people don’t steal cars in these parts.”

  I looked at him skeptically.

  “I promise. You can sort out the details later. I’ll give you Sam’s number. He’s the best mechanic in town. Let’s grab your stuff. You at a hotel in Townsend?”

  I opened the back door and was about to pull out my huge red suitcase when he was next to me, the heat of his body practically scorching mine. Did he have no respect for personal space? Not that I minded, but I was used to people who were forced to be close to each other on subways and streets—and people who wanted anything but closeness.

  “I got this.” He hoisted the bag out of the car. In the moonlight, it almost looked as big as the car. “Planning on staying a while?”

  I followed him to his truck, and he easily lifted it into the back, which gave me a sweet view of his biceps in that white T-shirt he was wearing.

  “A week.” I tried to sound casual and cheerful when I was actually worried about what I’d do without a car.

  He opened the passenger door to the truck, and I stared. I’d never been in a truck, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get inside. Was there a step or something? I didn’t realize trucks were so tall.

  “Ah, you’re a little thing. Here. Let me help you up. Put your hand up here, on this.” He touched a plastic handle and I gripped it, lifting myself up. It felt pretty wonderful when he pressed his hand on my mid back, too, steadying me in case I toppled back. When I was settled, I watched him shut the door.

  He must think I’m a total idiot.

  When he slid into the driver’s seat, he flashed that lazy smile again, and I swear I felt wet between my legs. What the hell? I didn’t normally have an immediate reaction to men like this.

  “So, where to?”

  Your bed, I wanted to say.

  I shifted in the seat so I was facing him. Jesus, this truck was large. “I’m not from here.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I laughed at that.

  “I’m a reporter with a magazine in New York, and I’m doing a story on romantic Montana. I’m staying at… ”

  He cut me off. “Fire Mountain Ranch.”

  My eyes went wide. “How did you know? Is it the only ranch around?”

  He started the truck and chuckled, a low, sexy sound that inspired a grin in me.

  “I’m Cassidy Richards, one of the owners. I’m one of the guys you’ve been emailing for your story.”

  Chapter Two

  “You’re Cassidy?”

  Well this certainly makes things interesting…

  He chuckled as he pulled onto the road. “Disappointed?”

  I laughed and murmured a no. Anything but, I wanted to say. But didn’t. Now that I knew he was one of the owners of the ranch I was writing about, I had to be as professional as possible.

  “I’m not sure why, but I got the impression that the three owners of the ranch were older. Maybe it was from the photos online?” I studied Cassidy’s profile, as much as I could, anyway, in the darkness of the truck.

  “Those are pictures of our fathers. They previously owned the ranch. They were all born in Townsend, then enlisted in the service. Afterward, they all ended up in business in Chicago, but they missed Montana so much that they bought a working ranch. We grew up together in the city and spent summers here as boys, and when we got older, we told our dads we wanted to run the place ourselves.”

  “So you grew up in Chicago?”

  “Hated every minute of it. I always wanted to get back here. Smell the fresh air, y’know?”

  “It does smell good here,” I agreed, wanting another whif
f of him. “How far is the ranch, anyway? My GPS gave out a while back."

  “You’ve had some bad luck, haven’t you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “We’re only about ten minutes away. See, you almost made it.”

  As we drove, he explained the history of the area, about the gold miners in the 1860s, the nearby Missouri River and how the actor who played Bobby Ewing on the old TV show Dallas was born nearby.

  “Confession,” I said. “I never actually saw it."

  “I didn’t think so, you’re too young,” he said.

  “You look like you’re too young, too.” My tone was flirtatious. I should stop. But Cassidy’s easygoing manner and his grin were irresistible.

  “I’m thirty,” he said. “Probably older than you.”

  “I’ll be thirty next month.” I was trying not to think about it, actually. Thirty, living in a closet of an apartment in Brooklyn and single, I almost added. But didn’t, because it sounded too pathetic.

  “Hey, here we are.”

  Cassidy slowed the truck and took a turn onto a gravel road. I spotted the sign — Fire Mountain Ranch — and my eyes widened as the headlights shone on the road ahead.

  “Is that the lodge? Whoa.” We approached a massive wooden home with stone accents, nestled in a grove of tall pine trees. “It’s gorgeous. And huge. Do you live here?” As soon as I said it, I realized it was a stupid question. Of course he did. He ran the place.

  “I live in a cabin out back. There are six of them. Four are for guests, Jaxson lives in another. Hank, stays in the main lodge.”

  I recognized those names from the emails I’d sent when arranging the trip. It seemed so long ago, me organizing all this from my dumpy office in Midtown.

  He killed the engine. “You’ll get to meet them now. Wait, let me get that door for you.”

  Cassidy got out of the truck and came around to my side and opened the door. He held his hand for me, and I couldn’t help but notice how small my fingers were in his. With his help, I hopped out of the truck. Leaped, practically, since it was so high up. For some reason, my eye was drawn upward to the sky.