Claiming Kara [Fate Harbor 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  Kara finally got it together and pulled out of Jesenia’s arms. “I’m sorry, you did nothing wrong,” Kara sniffed.

  “Obviously, I did,” Jesenia said with that lilt in her voice.

  “It’s me, Jess. A lot of memories are associated with those flowers, and they just came crashing down when I saw them. Not your fault, I promise.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Jesenia asked hesitantly.

  “Oh, honey, all I’ve done lately is talk about it. It’s nothing personal. You’re somebody I would definitely share this with, but I’m just talked out, okay?” Jesenia could clearly see the misery on her friend’s face and knew that the kindest thing she could do was to not ask questions. She gave Kara another hug.

  “Please know I’m always a phone call away if you need me, sweetheart,” Jesenia assured Kara, and then she watched as Kara’s eyes welled with tears.

  “I know, Jess, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” Kara assured her as tears dripped down her face.

  “Do you want me to take these back?” Jesenia asked, motioning to the flowers.

  “No, they are my favorites, you were absolutely right. Thanks so much for remembering. And thanks for bringing them over yourself. I know that Brad normally does your deliveries.” Kara gave her friend another hug and ushered her out of her backyard studio.

  Kara was lost in thought when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Jim. She cleared her throat and answered with a smile.

  “Hi, Jim, I got your flowers. They’re lovely.”

  “That’s wonderful. Your friend Jessie told me they were your favorites,” he said warmly.

  “They are,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “Are you okay? You’re not coming down with something, are you?” he asked with concern. “I’d hate to think you’re getting sick before your opening on Saturday.”

  “Nope, I’m in my studio. I think that it’s just the chemicals getting to me, I took off my ventilator to answer the phone,” she prevaricated.

  “Oh, well I’ll let you go. I have to start making rounds, anyway. I miss you, Kara. I can’t wait until Saturday.”

  “Me, too, Jim.”

  “Put your ventilator back on. I want you safe and well,” he said, right before hanging up. Leif’s words swam through her head. Was she using this good man? Could she really fully commit to him? She had better make sure. She shut down her equipment, took off her protective gear, picked up her flowers, and made her way back home. She was bone-deep tired, needing a nap.

  She carried the flowers into her bedroom and placed them on her dresser, then stripped out of her coveralls, leaving them in a pile on her floor. Then she did something she hadn’t done in over a year. She rifled through the bottom drawer of her dresser and found the T-Shirt that hadn’t been laundered since she had stolen it from Quinn on her last trip to Alaska. She put it up to her nose and took a deep breath. She could still smell him, and she put it on over her head. She climbed into bed. She wasn’t crying, and she counted that as a blessing. For long minutes she stared at the flowers, until finally she was able to draw comfort from the scent and close her eyes, trying to sleep. She wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t. Instead she lay staring up at the ceiling, remembering the last time she had smelled honeysuckle, sweet peas, and Quinn.

  Chapter 8

  Eighteen Months Ago – Sitka, Alaska

  It was the biggest arrangement the florist could make out of sweet peas and honeysuckle. As she walked up the path to Ben and Quinn’s front door, the upper half of her body was totally covered when she knocked on the door. They were two of Kara’s favorite flowers, but beyond that, when she had looked up the meanings, she knew they were the right flowers to send. Honeysuckle represented the color of fate, a Spirit vision, the bond of love, devoted love, and generous and devoted affection. Sweet pea was suggestive of a meeting, delicate and blissful pleasures, thank-you for a lovely time, and even good-bye. Everything but that one last word seemed right. The definitions for honeysuckle had even said fate, like the town where she lived. What more needed to be said? These were the perfect flowers to capture her men’s attention, and hopefully their hearts. That’s why she had sent them for months, and why she was holding such a large arrangement on their porch at this very moment.

  The door opened, and the first thing she heard was Quinn’s raspy voice. “I told you, we’re not accepting any more deliveries. Take it back!” The door closed with a resounding thud. Kara smiled. Apparently, her flowers had made an impression. Granted, they’d apparently made an irritating impression, but an impression nevertheless. She knocked on the door again. No answer. She rang the doorbell. No answer. The flowers were getting quite heavy, so she just leaned against the doorbell.

  This time Ben answered the door.

  “Hey, look, man, I’m sorry. But we did say no more deliveries. Here’s a ten for your trouble.” He reached out to her fingers encompassing the arrangement and pried a couple of them loose so he could put the money into her hand. Then, as always happened, a definite spark clicked between them.

  “Kara,” Ben breathed out as he peered around the bouquet with a dazed expression on his face. “Oh, my God, Kara.” He immediately pulled the arrangement out of her hands, setting it down on the porch, then pulled her into his arms.

  It had been three years since she had been where she needed to be, and finally she was home. He just stood there, rocking her back and forth. “You came, you’re really here. You came back to us. I only hoped, I never thought you actually would,” he whispered into her ear.

  “You won’t send me away?” Kara asked, her voice trembling.

  “God, no!” he exclaimed. “I’ve dreamed about having you in my arms again. How could I ever send you away again?”

  “Oh, Ben,” she said, her voice clogged with tears as she held him tighter. Then she pulled back because she had to look at him, drink him in. He chuckled, understanding her artist’s eye. He was broader. He still wasn’t as big as Quinn, but he was definitely bigger through the chest and arms. He’d aged. She’d seen that start to happen when she spent the three months here after Timothy’s wreck, but there were more pronounced signs now. The frown lines between his eyes that had previously only shown when he frowned were now a permanent part of his face, and she could see that his eyes were a little more hollowed. But he was still the beautiful man she had fallen in love with three years ago.

  “Kara, you’re even more stunning than I remembered,” he said in a low voice. Kara felt a blush rush up her neck and suffuse her face, making Ben chuckle. “Thank you for coming, but please know we have a plan to come to you.” Kara immediately placed her fingers on his lips.

  “No. Don’t say it, Ben. I don’t want to talk about three years ago. I don’t want to talk about what you might have had planned for the future. I just want to talk about us being here, together, now. Today.” He kissed the tips of her fingers, his warm brown eyes smiling down at her.

  “Whatever you want, Kara. I’m just so happy you’re here.”

  Kara gave a wet laugh. “Me too,” she admitted. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. But this is it, Ben. If we can’t make it work this time, I’m never looking back.”

  “Ben, haven’t you gotten rid of that delivery guy yet?” Quinn bellowed from inside the house, making Kara jump.

  “No, I haven’t,” Ben yelled back, pulling Kara into the house. He bent down and picked up the flower arrangement, winking at her, then giving his head a quick sideways nod to get her to duck behind him. She quietly followed him into the living room.

  “Goddammit, Ben, not more flowers! I just can’t handle it. I thought we agreed to make them take them back. What are you doing, bringing them into the house?” Kara could hear the anger in Quinn’s voice, but behind it, she could hear the anguish.

  “Sorry, brother, I just didn’t have the heart to tell the delivery person to take them back,” Ben explained.

  “Fine, jus
t put them in your room, okay?” Quinn said in a defeated voice. Kara couldn’t stand it anymore. She hated hearing the man she loved sounding so hurt. She moved from behind Ben and stood motionless, just drinking in Quinn as he sat on the couch. He was sitting there, slumped over, his forearms resting on his knees, as he stared at the floor like it might have the answers to all of life’s questions.

  She walked over to him and put a hand on his head, noting that his hair was longer and she could see strands of gray in it. He still didn’t look up. She tunneled her fingers through the silky strands, and he slowly raised his head.

  “You’re not really here, are you? I’m just dreaming you again.” He shook his head sadly, shaking her fingers out of his hair. He looked up at her with such hunger, but tears shimmered in his caramel-colored eyes, and she felt answering tears well up in her own eyes.

  She squatted down in front of his knees and cupped both of his cheeks. She looked him dead in the eye. “I’m here, baby. I’m finally where I belong,” Kara assured him. She felt him tremble as he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers in the softest kiss she had ever received. The tears that had been threatening now overflowed, wetting their lips. He released her lips and started upward, licking up each one of her tears. Not a word was spoken. There was no need.

  He easily picked Kara up and cradled her in his arms. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and breathed in the scent that was Quinn, finding half of her home. Then she felt the sofa dip, and another hand ever so gently cupped her head. She knew Ben didn’t want to disturb the moment between her and Quinn, but he wanted to be part of it, and she so needed him to be part of it, too.

  She reached up, grasped Ben’s hand, and turned her head so that she could breathe a kiss into his palm, and soak in this other man whom she had needed for three empty years.

  Quinn’s right hand cupped her ass, nestling her across his lap, and the other around her back so that her chest was close to his heart. She released Ben’s hand, then cupped his face and traced his dimples before closing in for a kiss. She kept her eyes open, not wanting to miss anything, not his expression or Quinn’s visage that she could see out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was rapt as he watched. It was what they all needed. Finally, as if their bodies had caught up with their hearts, Kara felt her nipples begin to pebble in response, and she felt the unmistakable burgeoning of Quinn’s arousal under her ass, which had her gasping into Ben’s kiss. Ben’s tongue swept along the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, and her neck fell back onto Quinn’s shoulder as her mouth opened, reveling in Ben’s taste and textures, her head swimming.

  Quinn’s big hands began to softly move, no longer just pressing her close but now stroking the lines of her body, down her legs, skimming down her side to follow the dip of her waist to the rise of her hip, and then rounding to the curve of her butt. She pressed outward, into his big warm hand, her chinos hardly a barrier against the heat emanating from the powerful man holding her. As she pressed out toward Quinn’s palm, she melted deeper into the passion of Ben’s kiss, not knowing who was causing her breasts to ache, her pussy to grow damp.

  Kara realized her legs were moving restlessly against the sofa and that Quinn was trying to hold them, but he couldn’t. She couldn’t contain herself. She broke away from Ben, gasping for breath, and shoved her face into Quinn’s shoulder, her body vibrating. She wasn’t just feeling needy. She felt like she would fly apart. She felt like she would laugh and cry at the same time. Both men must have realized it, because Quinn lifted the silky strands of hair off her neck, and Ben started to soothingly stroke the rock-hard muscles underneath. As he loosened one kink, he worked upward to another until he was rubbing deeply into her scalp. Eventually, when the tightness was released, her vocal chords began to work again, and small whimpers leaked out against the blue chambray of Quinn’s shirt.

  With the lessening of pain and pressure came the realization that she wanted and needed more, and it was at long last within reach. With her face firmly planted against the cloth-covered muscle, she blindly felt for the buttons on Quinn’s shirt and started unbuttoning them. She knew she had only a moment left before total meltdown occurred. As soon as she opened her eyes and took in the bounty that was Quinn and Ben she would be lost, so with eyes closed she reached out and ran her fingers through Quinn’s chest hair, and breathed in deeply the hint of musk and the scent of Quinn that she would recognize to her dying day.

  “Sweetheart, please, open your eyes. I’ve dreamed of your eyes.” Quinn cupped her face and gently tipped her chin upward.

  “Once I look at you, at both of you, I’ll want too much.”

  “You can never want too much, Kachawli,” Ben assured her. She heard the rustling sound of him pulling off his clothes.

  Kara kept her eyes closed, thinking it through. As much as she had said she would keep things in the moment, she had come up here to win their hearts forever, to build a future with these men. She needed to just stay in the moment, and feel good and blessed to have this time with them. She wanted these men, even if it was for just a week to finally say good-bye for good. Even if the last meaning of the sweet pea flower had been right all along, she would cope after she went home. For now, she would take the time they could give her. She would relish it and thank God for it. But she would also try her absolute best to convince them that they could build a future together, that forever was in the cards for them. She opened her eyes.

  Quinn’s eyes seemed even brighter now, though his smile was solemn. He reached out and tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, and drew it over her head. She felt Ben’s hands behind her, unclasping the hooks of her bra. Quinn slid the straps down her arms.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed, his expression still intense. Kara understood because she was drinking in the sight of his fur-covered chest. God, seeing the muscles and beautiful teak-colored skin was making it hard for her to catch her breath. She had sketchbooks filled with pictures of Ben and Quinn, but to have them here and in person, available to touch, was awe-inspiring. She turned her head to look at Ben. He was completely naked. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his aroused cock, and her pussy clenched in anticipation. She needed to be filled so badly. It had been three years since she had felt the pleasure and pain of being stretched and fucked. She tore her gaze away from his erection and caught his grin as he winked at her, causing her to giggle. She continued her perusal. She’d been right, and now he was as broad as Quinn. The last three years had added a great deal of muscle. Ben had gotten a lot of ink done, and it was beautiful. It covered most of the upper right side of his chest and went down his right arm. It was in Tlingit tribal art, done just in black and red. It had totem themes of whales and she wanted to trace it, lick it. But then she saw it. It covered a large jagged scar on his chest and upper shoulder.

  She was up and off of Quinn’s lap in a heartbeat. The game was over.

  “What the fuck?” If Ben hadn’t been so big and strong and steady, she would have knocked him over as she gripped his upper arms so that she could get a closer look at the ridged flesh that bespoke a horrible injury. She could see that it was long healed, but it had to have been deep, and it was so close to his heart, he could have died. Her head spun to Quinn, accusingly.

  “How dare you!” she spat. “When did this happen?” Ben caught her hands in his before she could pull away.

  “Kara, it wasn’t as bad as it looks. One of the crew got his arm caught in the winch. When I tried to release him, the damn thing swung back on me and just ripped the shit out of me. It just took off a few top layers, it didn’t go too deep. It wasn’t life threatening, I swear it.”

  “And the other man?” Kara asked.

  “We made it back in time, so they saved his arm,” Ben assured her.

  Kara softly traced over the scars. She didn’t care what the circumstances were that he received them, she was still so sad at the thought of Ben in so much pain. She just wished she had been there to care for him. As
if he knew, he enfolded her against his heart, letting her listen and feel the strong pulse of his life’s blood coursing through his body, assuring her that he was all right, that he was still here on this Earth, with her.

  Quinn pressed up against her back. “Ah, sweetheart, I wanted to call, but Ben wouldn’t let me. He knew that until we could really be together, it would just end in another painful good-bye.”

  Kara took a long moment to process what they had both said. She could continue to think about the last three years, to mourn it, to rail against it, or she could embrace the now and pray for a future. She continued to listen to Ben’s heartbeat, and then realized that she could feel Quinn against her back. She paused again, remembered her promise to herself, and vowed to just live in the present. She would bask in the here and now, without shadowing her time with some potential outcome that could suck the joy out of the moments she had with these two men.

  She placed a kiss on Ben’s heart and trailed her tongue along every bit of raised flesh on his chest and shoulder. Then she leaned back into Quinn’s warm body and looked, truly looked at the beauty of Ben’s tattoo. All of her life she had been sketching the patterns of Pacific Northwest Native American tribal art, so to see it on Ben’s body was extremely erotic.

  She turned around and looked at Quinn. “I want to make love.”

  “So do we, sweetheart. Can we get you out of the rest of those clothes?” Kara looked down and saw that she was still wearing her pants and shoes. She bent over, but Ben was already squatting down to help untie her sneakers. She stood back up and looked at Quinn.

  “What about you?”