10 MEN: A MEGA MENAGE REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 7)

by Stephanie Brother

  I remember feeling that maybe two might be good a number. Three would be tougher to manage. Four. . .well I didn’t even know what to do with that number.

  Now Mom is talking about ten. Even if I fell in love with every single one of them, and the prospect of that is remoter than is worth even considering, ten men is just too many for one woman.

  That’s ten men who’d need their emotional and physical needs meeting. . .EVERY DAY!

  I’m not sure if that would even be possible.

  None of the McGregor boys that I’ve met so far has been small. They are all strapping at over six-feet. I can’t imagine that any of them would be lacking in the trouser department. Ten big cocks for one woman just seems greedy. Or foolish. Foolish would seem a better word. I’d never be able to sit down!

  I just don’t get how Roderick thinks that it’s even a possibility. One divided by ten just doesn’t feel like something that would meet anyone’s needs. At least, not for the boys. For me, it’d be too much. Way too much.

  “So how come I get a choice but the boys are getting pushed into this? I’d never want to be with anyone who didn’t want me one hundred percent. You know, some of them don’t even want this.”

  “They don’t?” Mom says, sounding surprised.

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “No. Roddy told me they were all on board with giving it a try.”

  I shake my head. “Sounds like Roddy has been over-egging the pudding a bit.”

  “Mmm.” Mom gives me a small smile. “I know all of this seems totally farfetched but I just want to make sure you’re happy and looked after, poppet. I don’t want you to ever have to go through what I went through.” She rests her hand on my knee and I feel tears burning my throat. I know things have been hard for her. They’ve been hard for me, too. The rejection. The money worries. I’ve shared it all with her.

  Now Mom has met Roddy, things are changing for her. I guess she doesn’t want me to get left behind. She’s trying to find a way to solidify our security and position once and for all.

  “But it’s not right for Roderick to hold their inheritance to ransom over this, is it?”

  Mom shakes her head. “No. That isn’t something he’s told me he’s going to do.”

  “And even if I did happen to be on board with giving this crazy idea a shot, how would I ever know if they really cared about me now that Roddy’s put such a big price on my head?”

  “It has complicated things.”

  “Maybe some women would be happy that the money is central to all of this but you know I’m not like that.”

  Mom smiles in a way that makes me think she’s proud of my independent streak. “Money isn’t the be all and end all but there is certainly something to be said for a man who can provide financial security.”

  “A man…” I emphasize.

  “Or ten,” she says with a wink.

  “Ten men,” I say softly, then I burst out laughing. I know I must look a little manic but I can’t help myself. This is loopy. Off the charts cuckoo!

  “Ten good men,” she says. “Good looking, intelligent, funny and all with good prospects.”

  For a moment I wonder what is driving what here. “Is that why you’re marrying Roderick?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, looking confused.

  “You’re not marrying him so that I have a shot at this crazy plan, are you?”

  “No.” She shakes her head and puts her hand over her heart. “I love him. It seems I’ve been lucky enough to find someone who has it all, and I want that for you, too.”

  “I’m not going to let Roderick’s wealth turn me into a puppet on a string, Mom. I’ve heard what his iron handed tactics have done to his sons. These people are all strangers to me and I will not be drawn into the crazy.” Even as I’m saying the words my mind is flitting over another potential angle. What if Roderick is marrying Mom to get to me? I’m not a big headed person by any stretch, but I just can’t work it all out.

  “I’m worried, Mom,” I say. “What if I refuse and Roderick isn’t happy? What if he puts pressure on you to force me, and you won’t do it? I don’t want to mess up your new life. I don’t want to cause you any heartache.”

  She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big girl and I’m not scared of Roddy. I’ll talk to him and get to the bottom of what is going on here. There is bound to be an explanation for what you overheard.”

  “I hope so, Mom. Maybe this whole thing is an April Fools gag! Make a fool of the new girl.”

  “It’s not April, sweetie,” she says. “Do you want to walk back with me now?”

  I look down at my leg and for the first time since she got here, she registers how I’m sitting.

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  I nod. “My bad leg is playing up.”

  “Oh honey,” she croons. “I’ll get your new insurance details from Roddy. We can go and see a specialist.”

  “I have new insurance?”

  “Of course,” she says, looking very pleased with herself. “Only the best now, honey.”

  Grant’s deep voice sounds off from the doorway. “I’ll be happy to walk her back when she’s had time to rest her leg.”

  We both look up to see his serious face fixed on us. I wonder how long he’s been standing there. How much did he hear? The last thing I want is for him to think that we’re gold diggers. It couldn’t be further from the truth, but Mom’s last comment about ‘the best’ doesn’t sound great.

  “Is that okay?” she asks me.

  I nod, almost unable to keep a smile from my face at the prospect of more time away from the masses and another chance to spend some time with Grant.

  “That would be good of you, Grant,” she says, getting to her feet. “You look after my baby girl.”

  Closing the distance between us, she drops a kiss on my forehead and smooths back my hair. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll see you later, sweetie.” With a small smile, she heads out the door, giving Grant a nod on the way past. He quietly shuts the door behind her and then locks it.

  It seems like a strange thing to do but I kind of understand why he’d want to. This place is just crawling with McGregor’s. It’s probably his only way of securing a little privacy.

  I like the idea of being locked away from all the crazy that’s waiting for me outside these walls.

  “I can’t believe you talked to your mom that way,” he says.

  I’m confused. Did he think I was rude? “What way?”

  “I don’t know. . .you just told her what you thought and she listened.”

  “That is kind of how conversations work,” I say, but I’m guessing from his expression that it’s not how things work in Casa McGregor.

  “Not ‘round here,” he says. “If I was honest with my dad like that he’d threaten me with something. He’d find a way to get his way. I mean, what’s stopping your mom from tossing you out on your ear and refusing to finish paying for college?”

  Tilting my head, I gazed up into his worried eyes. “Nothing other than we don’t really work that way. And anyway, if she did, I could probably couch surf with a few friends. My mom’s not paying for my college. I get financial aid for that. And I haven’t had an allowance since I was fourteen.”

  “Wow,” he says. “You really are Miss Independent.”

  I shrug. “Mom doesn’t have a lot of extra money and I like to be able to choose what I want without worrying about anyone else thinking badly of me.”

  “That’s fair enough. Roddy doesn’t like his family working for other companies. Everything I have has come from him. It’s not exactly the most mature way to live.”

  “But that’s okay. You guys are so successful. It would seem silly to work to benefit someone else’s business.”

  He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I guess it would be okay if construction was my thing, but it isn
’t. I’ve just had to forget about what I want to fit in with the family.”

  “That’s a shame,” I say. “I work for myself. It’s not exactly glamourous but I get to choose what I do and don’t do.”

  “Choice can’t be underestimated.” Grant runs his fingers through his hair and glances over at Killer who is watching us from the corner of the room.

  As soon as he sees Grant is giving him some attention, the dog raises up and trots over, easing his bottom back onto the edge of the sofa like a person. It makes me smile.

  “I don’t know whether he thinks he’s human or we’re dogs,” Grant says, giving Killer a pat.

  “Either way, he isn’t far off from the truth. He’s really well behaved, unlike most of the animals I know.”

  “Unlike most of the humans I know.”

  We laugh but the silence after stretches tight.

  I like Grant. He’s easy to talk to and honest. It’s an important quality. One I haven’t experienced in men much. He finds it hard to hide his emotions. That’s how I can tell. I think back to his face when I mentioned the woman. I don’t want to upset him again but I also don’t want to ignore what happened.

  “I upset you earlier,” I say gently. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Again this eyes seem to shutter. He turns away, staring out of the window.

  “She died,” he says simply.

  I wasn’t expecting that at all and immediately feel terrible. It’s a stupid thing to think but in the picture the woman looks so vital and alive and I didn’t see anything about it when I was researching the boys. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “Cancer.” His voice is a little gravellier and I can almost feel the pain that’s radiating from him.

  “That must have been so hard to go through.”

  He nods, looking pensive. “We were together all through college. I thought we would be together forever. She was…” he pauses, stroking Killer. I can see it’s a kind of therapy for him. “She was perfect.”

  I look over at the photo again, at the smiling girl who is no more.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling a little lost for words in the face of such obvious grief.

  “You don’t need to be,” he says. “Life gives and it takes. I’ve accepted that. I had all that time with her. I knew love. Some people never have that in a whole lifetime of trying.”

  His words stab at my heart. I know I’m still young, but I’m one of the people he’s talking about. I’ve had relationships but none of them have ever felt deep enough to be described as love. Crushes, maybe. Infatuation. Someone to pass the time with. Not exactly fairytale romance material. I feel a pang of jealousy and then feel ridiculous for envying a dead girl her true love experience. She deserved to have happiness with Grant, even if it was for a short time before she died.

  “Do you think that it’s possible to love someone again?” I ask him. “I’m trying to understand why you’re so against your fathers plan.”

  Leaning forward, he looks so serious, I worried that I’ve said something that’ll hurt him again. Or worse, that he’ll be angry.

  “I don’t know, Laura. All I know is that I can’t hope to be lucky twice when some people haven’t been lucky once.”

  I give him a small smile. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Grant. There isn’t a quota of luck or love.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You seem like a good man. I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls out there who’d snap you up in a heartbeat.”

  Even as I say the words I feel a pang in my heart. I’ve read stories about women who say they fell in love within seconds and always thought they were made up tales for trashy magazines. I tell myself I’m being stupid for thinking that I’m having feelings for a man I’ve exchanged a few dozen sentences with, but I can’t help how I feel.

  Yes, Grant is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen. Calvin Klein models have nothing on his chiseled face and smooth tan skin, but it’s more than what I can see on the surface. Grant has a good heart and a set of moral values that I respect. He’s treated me gently, even in difficult circumstances. He’s observant and kind.

  “I’m damaged goods, Laura. Who wants to walk in the shadow of grief?”

  “Someone who cares for you. Someone who can see that you’re worth it. Grief doesn’t last forever.”

  Killer makes a low whining noise as though he’s agreeing with me and Grant shakes his head.

  “How did you get so wise?” he asks me.

  I laugh and I’m sure my cheeks turn beet red. “I’m not wise, Grant. I just believe that good things come to good people.”

  “You should have a lot of good coming your way then.”

  I laugh again. “I do, if your dad has anything to do with it.”

  “Maybe my dad has the right idea,” Grant says, his eyes flashing mischief.

  If my face wasn’t beet red before, it sure is now. “Your dad sounds madder than a hatter,” I say. “But I’m flattered.”

  Again the silence stretches, tense as a coiled spring. Killer looks between us as though he can feel it, too. I know animals are supposed to have more intuition than humans so maybe he can. I have an urge to reach out and take Grant’s hand in mine. For the first time, since my loser ex-boyfriend Ollie left town, I feel like I want to connect with a man, but this isn’t a good time. Not with everything bubbling away back in the main house.

  As if Grant can read my mind he asks me why I’ve not been snapped up yet. “I guess I just haven’t had my allocation of luck,” I tell him. “My last boyfriend made me lots of promises but didn’t deliver. I didn’t listen to my gut telling me that I shouldn’t trust him. I didn’t listen to my heart either. It’s weird how you can feel lonely even when you’re with someone. Maybe lonelier than you would if you were by yourself.”

  He nods. “That’s how you know you’re with the wrong one. With the right person you should feel at peace.”

  “Peace,” I say softly as I contemplate what he said. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a relationship that looked peaceful. There always seems to be some kind of drama, or a level of power-play that just looks plain uncomfortable.

  I never thought that peace should be something I should be searching for, but sitting here with Grant and Killer, and nothing but the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the background, I understand the appeal. Something about Grant’s presence quiets my inner voice. She has a tendency to overthink but here, she seems to like it.

  He rests his hand gently on my left leg and I jump, not expecting the contact, even as I find myself craving his touch. “How’s it feeling?” he asks.

  “Still sore,” I say. In reality it’s feeling better but I know if I say that he’ll take me back to my vomit-pink room and the harem of men who I’m supposed to be getting to know.

  “Well, how about I make us something to eat,” he says. “You must be hungry. And then, I’ll give it a rub and see if we can get you back on your feet again.”

  “That sounds amazing,” I say.

  Killer agrees with a bark and we both dissolve into fits of laughter.

  6

  I’m imagining that Grant is going to rustle up something quick. Pasta, maybe. Or a grilled cheese sandwich. Instead, he emerges from the kitchen with an amazing looking chicken and avocado salad. No wonder he’s so trim if this is the way he eats. Killer has to go to the kitchen to get his food and I can hear the crunching and slobbering from down the hallway.

  We eat on our knees, which is fine, and Grant flicks on the TV, asking me if I’m happy to watch a nature program, before settling back and tucking in. His choice of program doesn’t surprise me. The food is delicious and again, I wonder at how completely comfortable I feel relaxing in this stranger’s house with my leg up and a now a full belly. When I’m done, I groan in appreciation and Grant laughs, looking pleased with himself. He takes our plates and then flops back next to me on the sofa.

  “How’s the leg
feeling now?” he asks.

  “Still sore,” I say. “I think it’s going to take time to heal again, at least until the point that there’s no pain.”

  “Maybe,” he says. “Can I try something?” He shuffles closer to me and my traitorous heart does a little flutter.

  “Sure,” I say. Grant’s strong hands wrap around my thigh and his fingers test out the muscle carefully. He watches my face, looking for areas where the sensitivity is high enough for me to flinch. It’s as though he’s mapping my muscle.

  “Okay,” he says. “I’m going to try and help it.” His fingers begin to kneed, taking care to avoid the really tender spots. I’m tense, expecting pain, but it doesn’t come. What he does is actually really soothing and I end up lying back and closing my eyes. The really sore spot is close to my knee but he concentrates his attention on the whole muscle, sometimes coming high up onto where it meets my hip. The sensation is amazing, awakening parts of my body that really should be asleep right now. He nudges my legs open a little so he has more room, and my pussy flushes hot in a second.

  What is my body doing? This is crazy. Grant’s being kind and here I am getting turned on by his therapeutic massage. If he knew what kind of effect he was having on me, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be comfortable carrying on.

  “Try to relax,” he says softly. Does he know how this is making me feel? For a second I wish he’d move his hands higher. I wish he’d lean forward and kiss my lips with his gorgeous mouth.

  He continues his ministrations, the press of his fingers coming tantalizingly close to the top of my thigh and I stifle a sigh. Oh god.

  This feels too good.

  And Grant looks too good and smells too good.

  And my mind is whirring on all the bad things he could do to me if I just…

  I’m watching him, his brow lined with concentration, the muscles of his shoulders and biceps working with the effort of trying to relieve my discomfort, and it’s as though he can feel my eyes on him. When he turns, I can’t look away. I’m trapped in the intensity of his gaze and the electricity between us sends a shiver up my spine.