“Who kisses better?” Kirk demanded, his big hand caressing her shoulder. Apparently, he needed more because he burrowed his fingers beneath her jacket. The polar neck she wore defeated his questing touch, but the heat through the fabric still set her pulse and breath racing.
Stig snorted. “Insecure much?”
“Don’t spoil it,” Fiona said. “Both kisses were divine.” She gusted out a sigh. “If anyone had told me a week ago I’d be in the middle of a snow storm with two sexy men, I would have told them they had rocks in their head.”
“You think we’re sexy?” Kirk demanded.
Stig let out another snort, and a grin stretched her mouth.
“Hey, this could be important,” Kirk said.
“True,” Stig drawled. “We want to get to know you better. Before our brothers come on the scene.”
He stressed the better part and a blush raced across her cheeks, sinking down to her chest.
“But we met today,” she whispered, both appalled and turned on by his words. She never jumped into situations with both feet, not without considering the consequences first. She’d never had a one-night stand. “Besides, I couldn’t choose between the two of you, and why would it matter when I meet the rest of your brothers?”
“You might like them too,” Stig murmured.
The two brothers exchanged a glance, one she failed to interpret. Kirk gave an imperceptible nod, and as one the two men turned their focus on her.
A full body shiver swept her, a swift kick of awareness, of possibilities.
“What if you didn’t have to choose?” Stig whispered.
“What? I don’t understand.”
“What Runt means is that we’d be willing to share.”
* * * * *
Arve Swenson pushed and cajoled Harold up a hill. He swore under his breath as they hit a rut and his head thudded against the roof of the cab. Darkness squeezed in on them, only Harold’s headlights illuminating the icy wilderness.
“Heehaw!” Josef whooped.
Arve cast an aggrieved glower at his younger brother, but nothing dampened Josef’s good spirits for long. He was the joker, the clown of the family. The glass half full brother when everyone grumbled about empty coffers and Ma’s propensity for grandchildren.
Harold bumped and skidded over a long series of ruts, and Arve gripped the wheel and gritted his teeth. He’d hoped the new snow would fill the pits on their road but no. The worst of the storm had hit farther south. Kirk and Runt would’ve received the brunt of the snow and wild winds.
The wipers made quick work of the falling flakes, but the wind still howled and whistled, flinging them sideways on the slick icy parts of the road. Arve strained to keep their vehicle on the track. The last thing they needed was to hit a snowbank and get stuck.
“There’s the sign for the lake ice crossing,” Josef said with a grin. “I like the way the ice creaks and groans under Harold.”
“You would.” Arve eased his foot off the accelerator as he edged Harold onto the frozen lake. The lack of visibility made it difficult to follow the road and he slowed a fraction more.
“To the right,” Josef said.
Arve obeyed without hesitation since Josef’s eyesight was extraordinary. He could distinguish an Artic hare or plump ptarmigan on the tundra with ease while it took the rest of them longer to pick out the animals that blended with their surroundings.
“I’ll try to contact Kirk and Runt again,” Josef said.
The phone rang and rang, long after Arve would’ve given up.
“I guess they’re still in the middle—”
“What?” a decidedly grumpy Kirk barked at them.
“Something wrong?” Arve asked before Josef could jump in and stir trouble.
“Your timing is lousy,” Runt muttered.
A melodic laugh filtered down the line. Arve straightened, and beside him, Josef’s smile fell away.
“Who is that?” Arve demanded.
Josef exchanged an astonished glance with him “Do you have a woman with you?”
“Have you guys left Gillam?” Arve shrugged at Josef. Surely they wouldn’t do something so irresponsible—not on their first run when they had something to prove to the Churchill residents.
“We left hours ago,” Runt said with clear irritation. “We stopped for the storm. It hit hard and fast and we couldn’t see where we were driving.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Josef broke in, directing the conversation back to the important stuff.
“Fiona, meet our older brothers, Arve and Josef,” Kirk said drily.
“Hi guys,” a sexy voice said.
“American,” Arve said. “What are you doing up here?”
“Kirk and Stig are giving me a ride to Churchill. I’m visiting to see the polar bears.”
Silence pulsed for long seconds before Josef barked out a laugh.
“Does Leif know you have a passenger?” Arve asked.
“Yes,” Runt replied.
“The storm has cleared enough for us to get on the move again,” Kirk informed them.
Arve heard regret in the words, but Runt spoke before he could question his younger brothers.
“The wind has kept most of the snow from forming drifts on the road. Progress will be slower than normal but we’ll get through okay. We’re moving out now.”
“Fiona,” Josef said. “I look forward to meeting you in person. Woohoo! Did you hear the crack of the ice?”
“You won’t be laughing so hard if we go in like that cat over there.” Arve jerked his chin toward an abandoned caterpillar that had fallen through the ice. Hopefully the driver had jumped clear and hadn’t got trapped in his vehicle. He kept his speed steady, his breathing even until he passed the ice hazard warning sign on the other side of the lake.
“We’ve crossed the big lake,” Arve said as he guided Harold toward a forest and the road that wound through the trees. “Where are you?”
“We sheltered by a rise with a handy stack of rocks. Perhaps four or five hours from you.”
“We’ll see you soon then,” Josef said.
“Unfortunately,” Kirk mumbled, seconds before the call disconnected.
“We interrupted something,” Josef said.
Arve’s bear growled, and Josef shot him an incredulous stare.
“You felt it too.”
“Yes,” Arve said. “Something about her voice wormed inside me. That and the way Runt and Kirk were behaving. They don’t want us to meet her. That makes me curious and eager to encounter Fiona of the sultry voice.”
“I wonder if she’s a blonde or brunette,” Josef mused. “I hope she’s not a string bean. Women with curves are more my thing.”
“Me too,” Arve said gruffly.
“May the best man win,” Josef said.
“I refuse to fight for a woman.” Arve’s bear punctuated his sentence with a pushy growl. It seemed his animal side thought otherwise.
Companions on the Ice Road
“We’ll continue this later,” Kirk informed her, his fingertips caressing her jaw.
“With a proper bed,” Stig added.
Fiona stared at the two males. Determination radiated in their taut faces while their pulsing erections against her thigh and abdomen indicated high passions. She swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained.
“You want to share me?” Her voice rose with incredulity toward the end of her sentence. Men didn’t share women. Sharing was fictional, the idea making for terrific books and entertaining movies.
Robert hadn’t wanted her, and he was one man. What were the odds of two desiring her?
“It’s either share or a fight to the death,” Stig said.
“Pardon?” Was he serious? She sat up in the darkness, attempting to read their expressions. A skill she needed to hone because she had no clue as to their true thoughts.
“Unless you want to choose one of us,” Kirk suggested.
“I like you both,”
she said, before her brain hit first gear. “I couldn’t choose. Besides, I only met you today.”
“Sometimes the heart is the best judge,” Stig said.
Kirk’s snort sounded derisive, but she got Stig’s point even if she didn’t agree. Her need to think everything to death hadn’t worked with Robert. Perhaps she should try a new angle and go with her gut more often. With practice, she’d make better snap judgments. Her instinctive trust in these two brothers was working out so far. They hadn’t attempted to rape or pillage. Yet.
“We’d better get a move on if we want this freight to get to Churchill.” As Stig spoke he twisted and flipped the seat at their feet into an upright position. He leaned over and pushed open the door, before springing out with a grace she’d never emulate.
Kirk opened the door behind them and jumped out into the snow. He reached up for her and lifted her down. Seconds later, she sat in the front of the cab, once again in the middle.
“Get dressed, darlin’,” Kirk said. “Pull on your shirt and your jacket. Do you have your gloves? Your hat?”
“In the back.” Her teeth chattered in concert.
“I’ve got them,” Stig jumped into the cab and handed her clothes to her.
“What about you?” She fumbled with her polar shirt, attempting to get her hands in the sleeves. It was a tangled mess. She’d been cozy warm before they’d moved. In this respect, two men were much better. She tried to imagine Robert in this rugged landscape and failed. Robert liked his creature comforts. He’d never consider a visit, let alone setting down roots in the uncivilized north.
“I’ll check the sleds,” Kirk said.
“Isn’t he going to put on his coat?”
“We’re both used to the cold,” Stig said. “Besides, he won’t be long.”
Stig proved right, and Kirk climbed back into the cab a few minutes later. A blast of cold came with him, and Fiona edged away with a visible shiver.
“The sleds are fine. I used the broom to get rid of the worst of the snow, but it should blow off as we go. Look at you—all thumbs. Let me help you dress.” Kirk made short work of her tangled garment. He eased her arms into her jacket and plopped her beanie on her head. “Where are your gloves?”
“In my pockets.”
He found the gloves and helped her pull them on before diving in for a quick kiss. His lips were cold, but she soon warmed, the contrasts in temperature driving her hard and fast toward arousal.
“Enough of that. We have work to do.” Stig started Bess and pulled away from the shelter of the stones. The wind buffeted their vehicle, but the grip on the big wheels dug into the snow and ice and they chugged into motion.
“How do you not get lost? I’d get lost within five minutes.”
“We’re familiar with the road. It’s easy to pick out landmarks once you know what to search for,” Stig said. “We have GPS too.”
Fiona studied the landscape, or what she could see in the illumination of the headlights. Snow. Piles of the stuff, almost obliterating the trees and the road ahead. This was an unforgiving land, and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly.
They advanced through the night, the fall of snow finally ceasing. Stig kept the wipers on, the sound they made hypnotizing. Her eyelids fluttered closed even though she tried to stay awake.
“Go to sleep, darlin’.” Kirk wrapped his arm around her and drew her closer.
Bess struck a pothole, and she bounced, only Kirk’s arm around her shoulders keeping her in place.
“I won’t sleep for long. This is like a fairground ride.”
“It’ll get worse before we hit Churchill,” Stig said. “Some of the track is rough and rutted. When it gets icy, it’s not a smooth ride.”
Kirk laughed. “Understatement.”
“Did you mean it when you said you’d share me?” she blurted. “How would that work?”
“Have you had anal sex before, darlin’?”
Robert had suggested it. Once. She’d turned him down flat, yet Kirk’s dark whisper in her ear tempted her.
She blinked, a buzz of arousal coasting to her pussy. “No, I’ve never done that.”
“Some women enjoy it,” Kirk murmured. “We could show you. We could take your ass. Your pussy. Your mouth. We could grease up your beautiful breasts and get off by sliding through your cleavage.” He kissed her parted lips. “The possibilities are endless.”
“Two at the same time. I’d never considered…” But she’d read about it and gotten so hot she’d masturbated because Robert had been away at a conference.
Her mouth drew tight as she wondered who else had attended the conference and shared his bed. The size of his betrayal hurt and brought her insecurities to the surface.
What hope did she have of pleasing two men when she hadn’t been enough for Robert? No, that was old Fiona talking. She was the improved model, the adventurous Fiona who ran full tilt at new experiences.
“Imagine four hands touching you. Teasing you.” Kirk paused when she remained silent. He tugged a lock of her hair. “Have I offended you?”
She twisted to peer at his face. She aimed a kiss in the general direction and missed due to the poor lighting. Her lips grazed his chin. The two brothers made her happier and more comfortable than Robert ever had, even with their short acquaintance. “I’m not offended. Dirty talk is a turn-on.”
“That wasn’t dirty,” Stig commented.
“How do you know what Kirk said?”
“I have excellent hearing.” Stig hit a pothole. Bessie bounced out and Stig almost slammed his head against the cab roof.
Kirk cursed. “Fuckin’ road. You’d think the snow would have filled the holes.”
Fiona laughed, but it ended in a squeak when Bessie slid sideways on the ice.
“It’s okay, honey pie.” Stig took one hand off the wheel to pat her knee. “We’re both experienced drivers. We want our new business to succeed, and we intend to make it to Churchill in one piece.”
“I could take your mind off the road,” Kirk whispered.
“How?” Suddenly her fatigue had lifted, curiosity jump-starting her brain.
“You don’t believe me. I bet you a sexy kiss that I’ll soon have you purring like a kitten and you won’t care about the rough road.”
A snort emerged from Stig, and she hid her grin. “Am I meant to dare you or something?”
“Go on, honey pie. Dare him,” Stig said. “I want to see how he intends to make you purr. We haven’t traversed the worst of the road yet.”
His wry tone brought more amusement. She glanced up at Kirk who still had his arm around her shoulders. His eyes glowed in a weird freaky way that pushed thoughts of other worldly creatures to mind. She blinked, and when she refocused, his eyes seemed normal.
“Fiona?” Kirk prompted.
What the hell? Hadn’t she wanted an adventure? “I. Dare. You.”
Kirk hauled her onto his lap. His erection prodded her bottom, and her breath wheezed from her in shock.
“If you’re going to do what I think you are,” Stig said. “I get a turn too.”
“What if we hit another rut?” she asked breathlessly, accepting that she wanted this. Too bad if it was sluttish. Her adventure and she’d do it her way.
“I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” Kirk said with sincerity.
“Okay.” She waited to see what he’d do first.
“Keep hold of my shoulders,” he warned. “And don’t let go.”
One of his hands drifted beneath her coat, making the fabric rustle.
“Give me a blow-by-blow description, bro. Otherwise, I’ll take my eyes off the road to sneak a peek.”
“Pay attention to the road,” Fiona chided. “I’m not going to be the reason you wreck your vehicle and muck up your first run.”
The wild kangaroo-bouncing from pothole to rut to pothole ceased and Bess purred along a flat stretch of road.
Kirk’s hand slid under the layers of clothing she wore until he r
eached bare skin. She held her breath, expecting cold, but toasty warm fingers coasted over her flesh.
“I’m touching her back,” he announced. “Her skin is silky smooth. She smells of vanilla and spices and Christmastime.”
His lips nibbled the tendons of her neck, his stubble raspy against her tender skin. She sighed and relaxed, enjoying the petting and sensual touches she hadn’t received for a long, long time. Kirk took his time, kissing her while caressing every inch of her back.
Finally, he lifted his head. “Ready for more?”
“I am,” Stig said grumpily.
Fiona laughed. “I’ll make it up to you later, but we have done nothing except kiss.”
“Darlin’, we’re just getting started,” Kirk promised.
His hands darted around to her stomach and rose upward, skimming her rib cage and tracing along the underwire of one bra cup.
“I’m lifting her bra so I can reach her breasts. Aw, man. She’s so soft. She’s enjoying this because her nipples are hard.”
He strummed his fingers over one, then squeezed it firmly. The jolt that seared the length of her body had her groaning.
“What did you do?” Stig demanded.
“I’m playing with her nipples. Ah, yes. That’s it darlin’. You’re getting hot, aren’t you? I can smell your arousal.”
Heat galloped into her cheeks, and the darkness became her friend instead of a hindrance.
“Move a bit that way. Yeah, that’s it. Don’t let go of my shoulders.” Kirk dipped his head and an instant later, his warm mouth closed around the same nipple he’d pinched.
“Oh, sweet heaven,” she murmured.
Kirk laughed around her flesh, seconds before he drew firmly. From behind the wheel, Stig bit off a curse.
“My jeans are strangling my cock,” he complained. “I’m imagining all the things we could do together.”
Fiona's Mates_A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance Page 5
