A Daring Journey: The Dare Menage Series, Book 6

by Jeanne St. James

  Eventually Mac let Gryff go, but not until making sure she got in a few good squeezes of his muscles. And compared his yummy scent to his older brother’s.

  “Grae’s right. It’s been years, Big Mac.” Gryff turned and said, “I’m sure you recognize Trey. If you don’t, don’t tell him. Otherwise, he may curl up in a ball in the corner and bawl like the twins. And that’s our wife and partner, Rayne.”

  Mac lifted a hand to them in greeting. Trey gave her a million-kilowatt smile. Which had her mind returning to the handsome pilot, Damon Brooks.

  “I know who he is,” Mac murmured. Yes, definitely harem fantasy material. Especially now that she’d seen the very fit, very handsome football star in person.

  “Everyone knows who I am,” Trey announced.

  The auburn-haired sexy bombshell of a woman who was leaning against Trey rolled her eyes. She patted Trey’s arm which was draped casually, but possessively, over her shoulders. “Of course they do, honey.”

  Now that the introductions were complete, Mac was dying to get back to the elephant in the room. Why was Gia, whose mouth never stopped moving, not asking the obvious question?

  Her gaze slid back to the baby in Connor’s arms, then the baby in Paige’s.

  “Umm,” she murmured, wondering if her question would be a bit rude. But she needed an answer and it would bug her until she got it. She turned and raised her eyebrows to Gia, who laughed at her obvious dilemma.

  “Mac wants to know how the hell you ended up with twins of two different shades.”

  “Superfecundation,” Paige answered without hesitation.

  Obviously Mac’s face became a mask of confusion at that answer, which made Paige chuckle as she brushed a hand over her daughter’s soft, light brown hair as the baby nursed.

  Connor lifted a finger, catching Mac’s attention. “I can explain since I researched it knowing we’d get asked constantly.”

  “Or told it can’t happen when it obviously can,” Grae added as he moved back to Paige and settled on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. “We have the proof. And we’re actually very happy about it and hope it happens again.”

  Paige’s narrowed eyes shot up to Grae. “Um no. Once was enough, thank you. We weren’t supposed to have twins the first time. Hell, we weren’t planning on having any so soon.”

  Grae ignored Paige’s annoyance. “But it happened, and we’re thrilled.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Paige grumbled. “Here, I thought one of you had super hero sperm. It turns out both of you did.”

  “So... Superfecundation?” Mac asked to try to get them back on track.

  “Yes,” Connor answered in—yes, Gia was right—a super sexy Aussie accent that wasn’t too strong, but thick enough to make a woman’s heart go pitty-pat. As well as other things. “Superfecundation is when two eggs during a woman’s cycle are fertilized by two men during the same time frame... when... well...” Connor cleared his throat. “So we...”

  Paige waved a hand around impatiently. “We had sex together and I got knocked up by the two of them. Two separate eggs, two separate sperm. Two fathers. Two babies. Reed is Grae’s, Rylie is Connor’s. The end. You don’t need to get into the nitty gritty details on how that happened, honey. She can use her imagination and so can everyone else.”

  “Someone needs a nap,” Trey murmured.

  “No shit,” Paige said. “I haven’t slept in days. A shower would be nice, too.”

  “That it would,” Connor said under his breath.

  Paige’s eyebrows rose dangerously. Grae quickly leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Now that Gia’s here, you’ll get more time for yourself.”

  “Right. Because having two husbands isn’t enough, apparently. I wonder how women do it with only one?” she asked, sarcasm dripping thickly.

  “Do you want to find out?” Grae asked, his jaw tight. “And anyway, Reed and Rylie are ours. We’re not going to distinguish who belongs to whom. They’re our children. Period.”

  “Well, it is kind of hard to miss, brother, since Reed is so dark and Rylie is... not.” Gia said, not-so-helpfully. She turned to Connor. “Can I hold my nephew?”

  Connor gave her a smile as Gia approached, but instead of taking the baby right away from him, she ran her fingers over Reed’s chubby cheeks, his black springy hair, then somehow ended up petting Connor’s arm and shoulder like he was a Cocker Spaniel.

  Connor’s smile faltered as it went on a little too long for it to be simply a friendly gesture.

  “Gia, stop touching Connor,” Grae snapped, making Mac jump.

  Gia shot Grae a frown. “Well, you won’t share,” she grumbled, finally taking Reed from Connor’s arms.

  “There’s a reason for that,” Grae stated through gritted teeth.

  “You can touch me, Gee-Bee.” Trey offered, pulling away from Rayne and starting across the room.

  “Gee-bee?” Gryff growled. “And no, Gee-Bee cannot touch you, either.” He snagged Trey’s arm and pulled his husband to his side with a sharp look.

  Trey laughed and wrapped a hand around the back of Gryff’s neck, practically purring, “I love it when you get all alpha possessive.”

  “And that’s why you push me,” Gryff grumbled, still annoyed. He scowled at his sister. “Gia, how about keeping your hands to yourself unless you’re helping out with the babies. Connor and Trey are off limits during your visit. For fuck’s sake, they’re off limits any time.”

  “Jeez, Gryff, you’re no fun. I thought being in a threesome would get that stick out of your ass.”

  “It’s loosened up somewhat, but it’s still pretty much wedged up there,” Trey answered. Trey gave Gryff a kiss and a slap on the ass. “Tight,” he confirmed with a grin.

  Gryff’s frown didn’t loosen up. “Time for us to go.” He turned to Mac. “Good to see you again, Big Mac. Gia said you’ve been living in Boston. If I would’ve known, I would have invited you over for dinner. We’ll make that happen in the future. Sis, you know the door is always open at our house. We’ll see you again before you head out in a few weeks.” The tall, dark man extended his hand out to his wife. “Let’s go, baby.”

  “Yes, Boss,” she answered, a smile tugging at her lips. “Paige, I’ll reach out to you tomorrow.”

  “You have a big case coming up,” Paige said.

  “I know. Otherwise, I’d take some time off and help. But it’s an important one. I’ll still make time to call and check in.” She glanced at Gia, who was cooing at Reed. “Gia, we’ll see you soon.” Then her green eyes landed on Mac. “Nice to meet you, Mac. Gryff is right, we’ll have to have you over for dinner soon. I’m sure Trey would love to tell you all about winning the Super Bowl.”

  “That would be great,” Trey answered with genuine enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  Gryff groaned and rolled his eyes as he escorted them out of the room. A few seconds later, they heard the front door closing.

  “I should head out, too, since I haven’t been home in over a week,” Mac said. “I just wanted to stop in, say hello and meet the new members of the Ward family.” She turned to Gia, who looked surprisingly comfortable and quite natural holding a baby.

  Her friend’s dark eyes hit hers. “You don’t want to hold the baby?”

  “Next time. I’m sure I’ll stop in for another visit while you’re in town.”

  “We’ll set up a dinner,” Grae suggested. “But the door’s always open. Figuratively, anyway.”

  Mac gave him a smile, and a last look to lock him into her memory bank for her harem fantasy she’d be having later. She also eyed Connor quickly.

  A clearing of a throat brought her attention to Paige, who was now burping the baby on her shoulder.

  Busted!

  “I’m pretty damn lucky,” was all the woman said.

  Yes, she was.

  After finishing her goodbyes, she headed out to her car and as she settled into the driver’s seat, her phone pinged. It w
as not the normal tone of an incoming text.

  She pulled it from her purse sitting on the passenger side floor and hit the power button to light up the screen. It was a notification from Boston Singles.

  She frowned. She never turned on the push notifications from the app. Even though she told Damon Brooks otherwise, she had no plan to.

  She glanced back at the house. Gia! She must have done it when Mac wasn’t looking. She never should have told her about the whole conversation in that cockpit. Or left her purse where the woman could dig through it.

  Mac could just picture her friend laughing with glee right now and rubbing her hands together in her evil matchmaking ways.

  She should ignore the message. It was most likely a dick pic from some random dude.

  Though... she hadn’t seen a nice dick in a while. Maybe she should at least peek.

  A small peek. With one eye open.

  She located the app on her phone, tapped it and checked her private messages. Damn. She now had five hundred unread messages clogging her inbox. She needed to delete her account and remove the app from her phone. Either there were too many desperate men out there or a whole bunch of bots.

  Deleting would be smart. No doubt about it.

  She would do that... in a second.

  She sighed. Unable to resist, she pressed on the newest flashing message in her inbox.

  And her heart skipped a beat.

  Not a dick but the pilot. Damon Brooks.

  “I’m on a layover and I figured I’d shoot you a quick message to see if you were fibbing to me or not. So, here’s the test. I’ll be back in town tomorrow. Meet me for drinks or coffee tomorrow night. I have a sudden urge to count freckles.”

  Her fingertips brushed over her nose and the apple of her cheek as she read the last part again.

  The urge to count freckles...

  She grabbed her rearview mirror and turned it until she could see her reflection. Or part of it. She studied the brownish marks that were scattered across her nose and cheeks. There weren’t a lot of them. They only exploded and looked like the Milky Way when she went out in the sun.

  That meant it wouldn’t take long for him to count them. Which meant maybe one drink. Or one cup of coffee.

  She was leaning toward the drink since she never had caffeine after ten in the morning.

  Holy shit, was she actually considering meeting him?

  She twisted the rearview mirror back into place and stared at the huge house she was parked in front of.

  While, yes, there had been a few tense moments inside with the Ward family, the threesomes loved each other and seemed happy together. She now understood why Gia wanted what her brothers had. The love. The devotion. The unlimited sex.

  Not necessarily in that order.

  Gia might be searching for two men to satisfy her needs, Mac would be happy with one. She didn’t need to be greedy. She’d keep that to her harem fantasies.

  She considered her phone, studying the little profile picture of the very handsome, very sexy pilot that was tucked into the corner of the message.

  What did she have to lose? It was one get-together.

  One man. One evening.

  She could give him one chance.

  If they didn’t click, they could shake hands and part ways without any hard feelings.

  But she was deleting the damn app.

  She quickly typed out an answering message and agreed to meet him, adding her cell phone number so he could text her the location and time.

  Then she hit her power button again, turning the screen dark and tossed it back into her bag.

  Chapter 3

  Damon checked his texts one more time just to make sure she didn’t cancel last minute. He’d been on many dates over the past few years, but for some reason this one had his nerves rattled. It was ridiculous. It was simply a couple of drinks at a bar in the city. Somewhere public he figured MacKenzie would feel comfortable meeting a stranger.

  Because that’s what he was, a stranger.

  Even though he didn’t want to be.

  He had read her profile on Boston Singles a couple of times since setting up the time and location for them to meet. He kept hoping to find some insight to the redhead before their “date.”

  Then her profile disappeared. Poof. Just like that.

  Which brought back a difficult memory of someone else just disappearing out of his life. Poof.

  Since she agreed by text to meet him, he could only hope he wouldn’t be stood up.

  Something about the woman—besides her fiery hair, her flawless ivory skin and her sexy freckles—had caught his attention that day.

  If he hadn’t been scheduled on another leg back to Philadelphia, he would have begged her to join him for a drink right then and there. Even if it was in one of the airport lounges.

  Besides her picture and her name, her Boston Singles profile didn’t have a lot of information in it. Her age, if it was true, was thirty-two. Red hair. Check. Blue eyes. Check. Five foot-three. Check. Agnostic. Check. The rest of the profile said “ask” after each category. Like her occupation.

  And her weight. Not that he was asking that. He knew better.

  It also stated she was “interested in men.” He was one of those, so he had one thing going for him.

  It also listed who she was looking for. Someone who was college educated, financially stable and wasn’t into head games. Between the age of thirty and forty-five.

  He ticked all those boxes. He hated head games, too. And at thirty-eight, he was in her age range. Financially he was doing well. With no significant other or kids, he invested a lot of his income in the stock market and he’d been successful at it. Other than that, he lived modestly.

  No flashy car, no flashy house, no flashy clothes.

  And MacKenzie, or Mac, didn’t appear to be high maintenance, either, which was right up his alley.

  Her friend, on the other hand, screamed high maintenance. Been there, done that. He’d lost his taste for any woman like that. Or man. He’d dated some of those, too. He was getting too old to play games; he was getting too impatient to deal with divas of either the male or female persuasion.

  He wanted someone down to earth. The girl or guy next door type. Someone he could wake up next to in the morning, eat breakfast with and share their daily chores. At night, kick their feet up while on the couch, cuddle and watch a movie.

  Someone he could trust to remain loyal if he was gone for a few days due to work and layovers. Or when he was caught on the other side of the country due to bad weather and cancelled flights.

  He wasn’t asking for too much. Or at least he didn’t think so.

  Damon took a sip of his water and glanced around. He had picked a bar which was located in the business district, hoping it would be quiet at night since it was usually hopping during the day with suits in “business meetings.” And luckily it was slow tonight. The lights were dimmed, classic rock played softly in the background, and he’d been seated at a table where he could watch the door for her but was away from the rest of the occupants.

  It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t a dance club, it wasn’t a “happening” place. It was just his speed.

  He and MacKenzie would be able to talk and get to know each other without yelling over pounding music and loud conversations.

  He checked the time on his cell phone again. She was five minutes late. His heart began to beat a little faster. Damn. She was going to stand him up.

  When he glanced up from his phone, his breath stopped, and his heart seized, then began to thump so hard his pulse pounded in his ears.

  The blood rushed from his face and his fingers trembled as he put his phone down on the table.

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

  This can’t be happening.

  Not today. Not now. Not ever.

  When he opened his eyes, he realized he hadn’t imagined the figure coming through the door. Even though it had been years, the man had hard
ly changed.

  He was older, of course, his hair a bit lighter and longer. And there was dark hair covering his lower face. The beard was new. Or newer, since it had been about five years since he’d seen him last.

  His hips were still lean, his chest broad. At least he’d been taking care of himself.

  Damon knew those legs encased in denim all too well and recognized that long, determined stride as the man headed his way.

  Damon lifted his eyes and met Trevor’s way before he got close to the table.

  Funny how Trevor didn’t seem surprised to see Damon here. He was sure his own face was the exact opposite. He was certain he appeared shocked, because that’s what he felt.

  That wasn’t all he felt. A warmth swirled through his chest and circled his gut, landing right in his balls.

  Fuck, the man still did it for him. Even after everything he had dealt with due to the asshole, Damon still wanted to bend him over the table and fuck him until Trevor begged him for permission to come. Sometimes Damon would let him, sometimes he’d force him to wait.

  Damon’s lips parted, and a long, shaky breath escaped.

  Out of all the nights in the last five years, tonight was not the night for Trevor to walk back into his life. He needed to steel his emotions and pretend the man no longer had any effect on him.

  Trevor said nothing as he stopped in front of Damon’s table, blocking his view of the bar’s entrance. He let his gaze sweep from the hand Trevor curled around the back of the empty chair, up his chest, his throat, his lips and finally Damon met his eyes.

  Trevor wasn’t smiling.

  Well, neither was Damon.

  His nostrils flared just slightly as he inhaled Trevor’s familiar scent. He hadn’t forgotten it. It still invaded his dreams.

  Damon unclenched his jaws to force out, “How long have you been back in town?”

  Trevor tilted his head, a lock of his coffee-colored hair falling across his forehead. He gave Damon a once over, too. Pausing only for a split second on Damon’s lips.

  Which made him fight the urge to lick them.