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

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10 MEN: A MEGA MENAGE REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 7) Page 8

by Stephanie Brother


  He steps closer and I can smell the scent of his skin and feel his soft breath on my skin.

  I’m so torn.

  So that’s what I say.

  “I’m so. . .torn, Elliot.” There is pain in my voice and he gazes down at me seriously.

  “Torn?”

  I nod, licking my lips. My mouth is so dry.

  “I’m. . .I’m attracted to you. Of course I am. And I think you’re a great guy, from what I’ve seen. . .and I like Grant, too. And I don’t know how things went that far last night. I can’t explain it.”

  He exhales. “You regret it?”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I’m confused. You must be able to understand. I came here yesterday thinking that I was moving in with my new step-family, not auditioning to be some kind of gang-bang bride.”

  He snorts and shakes his head. “That’s not what this is about, Laura.”

  “Most women don’t sleep with ten men in their lifetimes,” I say. “Let alone having to sleep with ten just to perform their marital obligations.”

  “Sex should never be seen as an obligation.”

  His smile is broad and I have to roll my eyes because he’s making light of something that I’m struggling with, as though my feelings about all of this are joke worthy. “You know what I mean.”

  “I get the confusion. I do, but I think that you’re overthinking it all.”

  Now I frown because what is he saying? That marriage isn’t a big deal? That this isn’t something that I should be thinking about. “This is serious, Elliot. My mom is marrying your dad. We’re going to be related when that happens. If I don’t take it seriously I could end up messing this whole thing up. There are feelings involved. The feelings of a lot of people.”

  “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t think about it. I’m saying that maybe if you relax a little, and take each situation as it comes, things might be easier.”

  “You mean that I should be considering each of you individually rather than as a group?”

  He nods and rubs his hand up and down my forearm. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s great that you like Grant, and I’m hoping you like me. And maybe if you take the time to get to know each of my brothers you’ll like them too. Maybe, if you approach it that way, none of this will seem so overwhelming.”

  I take a step back because I need some space to think and his manly smell is making me woozy enough to actually consider what he’s saying. I must be crazy.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to find the right way to respond. “The end result of that, and there are many possible issues in between, will be that I have ten boyfriends, Elliot. Ten. I mean, two would be freaky but I guess I might just get away with two, but ten.” Katelin flashes through my mind again. She’s just about getting away with three. Ten is a whole other thing.

  “Husbands, Laura.”

  “Husbands,” I whisper, turning the word over in my head. “Yesterday I wasn’t even thinking about dating and now I’m supposed to be thinking about getting married?”

  “Life does that sometimes,” Elliot says wryly. “It sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”

  “This isn’t sneaking, it’s trampling!”

  Elliot straightens, looking me over. “Do you trust me?” he asks.

  I think for a moment and remember how I felt with Grant. Trust is a many leveled thing. Do I trust Elliot in this moment? Yes. But I haven’t known him long enough to say for sure. He’s only treated me with kindness and respect so far and that’s great, but to truly trust, someone has to be tested. It has to be built over time.

  “Close your eyes.”

  I shake my head and he puts up his hands again. “Trust me,” he says softly. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  “Okay.” I shut my eyes, standing completely still with my arms handing by my sides. My bad leg is slightly flexed and for a moment, the silence in the gym and the darkness behind my eyes feels uncomfortable. Then, before I can react, Elliot’s lips are on mine.

  It’s a ghost of a kiss. Gentle and tentative. It’s respectful and hopeful and instead of pulling away like I know I should, a shiver passes through me and I kiss him back. My heart pounds, my body and mind warring for control. Oh god. I shouldn’t be doing this but I don’t open my eyes because I know that if I did, I’d wake up from this trance that I’m in. His mouth is so soft, his lips yielding and hands gentle as he places them on my hips and pulls me closer. My hands move too, as though they have their own minds, resting on his upper arms, feeling his biceps flex beneath them. The first touch of our tongues is perfect. The hairs rise on the back of my neck and all across my scalp and I let him kiss me as deep as his brother did only a few hours before.

  Grant.

  The memory of his body on top of mine flashes into my mind - his caress. . .the soft murmur of the words he whispered in my ear as he entered me – and I come to my senses. Grant doesn’t buy into this whole family marriage idea. When we got together that wasn’t what he was working towards. He wanted to be with me knowing that the plan wasn’t what I wanted either. This is a betrayal of that understanding.

  I push at Elliot, pulling back from him. His eyes are glazed when they meet mine, his lips slightly parted. “Laura,” he says softly.

  “Grant…” I say. “…he wouldn’t be okay with this.”

  “You’re worried my brother will be jealous?”

  “He doesn’t want what your father wants.”

  “This isn’t about Grant, right now. This is about you and how you feel.”

  I take a step back, turning to face the swimming pool. “I can’t compartmentalize like that, Elliot.”

  “I know you liked kissing me,” he says coming to stand beside me.

  “I did.”

  “And I know you liked being with Grant.”

  “I did, but Grant won’t like this.”

  Elliot turns to me but I keep staring ahead.

  “You don’t know my brother so well,” he says. “There’s a lot of hurt there and a lot of anger, but he loves his family, and he’ll come around in the end.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I tell him. “I don’t want to be disloyal. Grant was so kind to me when I really needed someone.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  I shake my head. There is no way that could possibly be the right approach. “No. I don’t think that will work.”

  “So then maybe you need to talk to him.”

  “And tell him what? That he’s not enough man for me and I’m thinking of sampling his nine brothers, too? I’m sure that will go down a treat.”

  “You tell him that…” Elliot stops and the silence stretches uncomfortably.

  “Exactly,” I say. “There is no way of explaining this without repercussions.”

  Elliot sighs. He knows I’m right. “So then you have to choose. Between being only with Grant and him being disowned by his dad, or you explaining what’s happening here in the hope that we can keep this family together.”

  His words stab my heart. There is no way I want Grant to lose his family. He may not want to be quite as involved with them as they might want him to be but that doesn’t mean he would fare better alone. This is too much pressure and it’s just not my responsibility.

  “I just need to think,” I say and Elliot sighs.

  “Thinking can be a dangerous past time,” he says.

  I don’t disagree but there’s so much at stake here that not thinking could be catastrophic.

  9

  I work out as much as is possible without stressing my leg, concentrating on my arms and abs, avoiding looking at Elliot too much. He’s put some music on and has been running for the past thirty minutes. The man is hardly out of breath and is the least sweaty gym-man I’ve ever seen.

  My mind is also running, trying to work out what the hell I should do. I’m attracted to Elliot. That’s for damn certain. It’s at times like these that I’m gratef
ul that women’s arousal isn’t as visible as men’s. He’d have to put his fingers between my legs to know how wet his kiss made me and how hot I am right now, knowing that he’s near.

  I’m still tender from fucking his brother and now I’m wet for him. It seems so wrong on so many levels.

  I know I don’t want to hurt Grant. He’s been through so much, but Elliot is right. There is no easy answer here. Mom always told me that honesty is the best policy. She told me to never leave difficult conversations too long. Time heals but it also has a way of making things worse, too.

  After much deliberating I make a decision. I need to just be honest with Grant and as soon as possible. It’ll be up to him how he feels about it and maybe I’m being big headed to think he’ll be bothered in any way. We had a one-night-stand after all. I’m sure he’s not viewing it as the start of the world’s greatest love story. Then again, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. Fucking your stepsister-to-be isn’t a decision without potential consequences!

  I make my way over to Elliot and he sees me in the mirror and starts to slow the machine.

  “I’m going to go for a shower,” I say.

  “Do you think you can find the way back to your room?” he asks.

  I nod. “Thanks for helping with my leg.”

  He smiles and steps off the machine. His cheeks are a little pink and it makes him look so cute. “Have you decided what to do next?” he asks. There’s a hint of hope in his voice that I might not immediately be pushing away the prospect of there being more between us.

  “I’m going to be honest with Grant.”

  Elliot smiles. “I’m glad you said that.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because I’m happy to know that you’re what I thought you were; an honest and straightforward person.”

  “Mom always says that honesty is the best policy.”

  “Your mom sounds like a very sensible woman.”

  I snort. “That’s what I thought until she started professing the virtues of polyamorous marriage. Then I wondered if she might have early-onset dementia.”

  “She’s just had more time to think about it,” Elliot says. “She knows us, and she knows what a good position you would be in, too.”

  “What position is that? On my back!”

  Elliot laughs, his eyes sparkling. “I prefer something a little less tame, but we can work on that.”

  When I roll my eyes at him, he laughs some more. “Let’s not run before we can walk.”

  I raise my hand in a wave and walk over to where I left my purse.

  “See you at breakfast,” Elliot calls as I’m about to disappear through the door. My stomach seems to hear him and grumbles in response. If I wasn’t so damn hungry I’d consider skipping meals in the house just to avoid being faced with all these crazy people.

  I’m definitely able to walk faster back to my room and I’m glad for that. I manage to avoid bumping into anyone else and take a welcome hot shower in my gorgeous en-suite. When I’m dressed, I put on just a little bit of makeup to try and conceal my dark circles and make my cheeks a little pinker.

  Who am I kidding? I go all out with mascara and lip gloss, too. As much as I want to pretend that I’m not bothered what the McGregor brothers think of me, I do care. For all my reticence and fear about this situation, I am intrigued and I certainly don’t want them thinking that their father has made a poor choice in considering me for their future wife.

  My anxiety really kicks in as I walk down the stairs. For a second I think I might have forgotten the way and begin to panic about wandering in an endless maze of rooms and corridors. Then a familiar voice calls out to me.

  “There you are, Laura. We were about to send a search party out for you.” Spinning around, I come face to face with Roderick himself, the one McGregor man I met before moving into this house, and he’s looking at me with interest. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

  I can tell by the fact that his expression is amused that he knows I wasn’t in my own bed for most of it. Damn. I really don’t like them all knowing my business and I particularly don’t like Mr. McGregor himself regarding me as though I’m a filly for his stable of studs.

  Ugh. “Yes, I did, thank you.” My voice is colder than I intend it to be but I don’t think it bothers him in any way. Despite the fact that it’s the weekend, Roderick is dressed as though he’s about to feature on the cover of GQ. I’m not into older guys but I can certainly see what my mom likes about him and where his sons get their crazy good looks from. He’s a cross between George Clooney and Robert Redford.

  “Well, that’s great. Shall I escort you to breakfast?”

  “Please. Lead the way.” It’s a subtle way of saying I don’t want to walk at his side. He seems to understand and I follow him in the direction I was already heading, towards the dining room. As we near, the babble of voices gets louder and louder. By the time we reach the door I’m wondering how on earth anyone is actually keeping track of anything that’s being said. It reminds me of high school recess; the crazy hum of too many frantic and excited voices. I stood outside this door yesterday and heard things I wasn’t supposed to. Roderick’s hand goes to the handle and my stomach lurches.

  I’ve got to go in.

  “Good morning,” Roderick announces loudly as he enters the room and I follow, more heads turning than I am capable of counting. All eyes are on me.

  I blush like a beet and catch a few smiles at my embarrassment.

  “Morning,” a chorus of voices reply.

  “Where would you like to sit?” Roderick moves his arm in a sweeping gesture as through there are innumerable seats to choose from. In reality, there are four empty seats at the main table and a row of stools at the counter. I guess that would be where I’d felt most comfortable but it would be making a serious negative statement to sit apart from everyone else. I scan and see that Grant is missing, but my mother is holding court at one end of the table, surrounded by her soon-to-be step sons. She looks at me and smiles but her eyes are worried. I wish she’d saved me a seat next to her but she hasn’t. I scan the rest of the table, noticing a space next to Elliot. He must have left the gym just after me to make it here before me. I limp slowly down to take my place, watched by way too many interested eyes. It’s only then that I notice that no one is eating.

  Each place setting is presented beautifully with delicate white plates, sparkling cutlery and crisp napkins. It’s at that point that I realize they are waiting for everyone to be present.

  I feel like a kid at Hogwarts, waiting for Dumbledore to announce that dinner is served.

  “Ready for a McGregor breakfast?” Elliot teases.

  “I have no idea what that means,” I whisper back and the man sitting across from me laughs.

  I look up and search my memory for who it might be. One of the two I haven’t met yet.

  Ford. He’s pretty unmistakable with his rugged good-looks and huge, bulky frame.

  “It means, little lady, that you’d better be ready to eat!” His smile is broad and the way he’s sitting with his arms crossed makes his forearms bulge in a crazy way. Either this guy likes a sunbed or he’s seriously outdoorsy. Tans like that are earned.

  “Her stomach’s been rumbling for at least an hour,” Elliot says and I find myself punching him on the arm. Where the hell does he get off trying to humiliate me all the time?

  “Well, I like a woman who likes to eat,” Ford says and there is a collective snigger from all the brothers at the table.

  “That’s enough of that,” Roderick chimes in.

  I catch sight of Grant who I think is the last to arrive. He does what I did and scans the room, obviously looking for an empty chair and finding me in the process. For a moment he looks like a rabbit caught in headlights. His eyes widen slightly. It’s as though he forgot that I’m now part of the family.

  Then he smiles and my heart speeds. This man was inside me less than six hours ago. I shift in my seat, feeling
the tenderness there. There’s a cautiousness in the way he approaches, and his brothers all seem to be watching with interest. I guess that Elliot isn’t the only one who knows where I was yesterday. I wonder if Grant will choose to sit in one of the other free spots rather than on the chair directly next to me. Maybe he won’t want his brothers to catch him looking too enthusiastic.

  When he tugs out the chair by my side I realize that he must not care.

  “Laura,” he says in greeting as he takes his seat, then squeezes my thigh under the table where prying eyes can’t see. I’m as rigid as a post. This is the most hashtag-awkward I have ever been in my whole damn life.

  Roderick’s voice sounds off from the far end of the table where he is sitting with my mom. “We weren’t expecting you, Grant.”

  I’m shocked at the abruptness of his tone but it doesn’t seem to faze Grant at all. “I thought I should show my face at the first breakfast.”

  “Hope it doesn’t end up like the last supper,” I mumble and Elliot, Grant and Ford, who are all close enough to hear, burst out laughing.

  “Something amusing,” Roderick sneers. “Would you like to share with the rest of us?”

  I shake my head and stare down at my plate.

  “Well, as Grant as alluded, this is a special morning in the McGregor household. Nora and Laura have now moved in and our numbers have increased.”

  There’s a murmur of what sounds like appreciation and I blush.

  “Now you all know that I’m expecting you to make them very welcome…”

  “Grant’s been taking that responsibility very seriously,” Ford says, followed by a whole load of snickering from the rest of the table. I mean, seriously, these guys are men but they are as bad as teens.

  My mom places her hand on Roderick’s arm in the universal gesture of ‘restrain yourself’, as though she can tell he’s about to lose his shit. I’m glad she’s trying to keep everything on an even keel because I can feel the tension brewing.

 

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