by Tia Fanning
Yes. Yes. Yes.
No, she couldn’t… Could she? Could she spend the rest of life with three sexy brothers who loved her, wanted nothing more than to dote on her—who would pamper her silly? Oh, God. A lifetime with three men who didn’t want her to do housework, and she genuinely loved them, loved spending time with them. Why the hell hadn’t she said ‘yes’ yet?
Oh, that’s right. They were fighting. About money.
You’d think we were already married.
The kiss became more urgent, heated, impatient, and his hands moved higher, feathery caresses across her ribs. Desire flooding her, she moaned and rubbed against him. Moving in, he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.
He broke the kiss. “I’m not beyond seducing the answer I want from you,” he said softly, removing her shirt. “I love you too much to play fairly. So just say yes.”
Oriana’s breath hitched as he pulled her close again. His romantic words, so unexpected, moved her in powerful ways—which, when accompanied by the searing paths his mouth made across her skin while his fingers stroked her swollen clit, had her climaxing passionately in his arms.
So she’d only known the guys maybe two weeks. Fuck it.
So they were fighting just moments earlier. Fuck it.
So what if Jack just seduced her into compliance. Fuck it.
What were those three small things in the grand scheme of things? She wasn’t a girl who minded a little risk. It made life that much more exciting. And the rewards to be had if it all did work out…
“Yes,” she gasped, as the last residual tremors subsided. “You win. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Jack laughed softly, kissed her forehead. “Try not to sound too despondent.”
“I’m not. I’m happy.”
“Thank you for saying yes.”
She feigned a forlorn sigh. “I didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. I told Jordan the other day that I would say ‘yes’ to you if you asked. God forbid should I end up in the corner for lying again.”
Reaching down, Jack picked up her shirt. “I think you look darling with your nose pressed into the corner.”
Lifting her arms, she allowed him to redress her. “You should tempt me like that. You’ll make me want to break rules.”
“What’s going on,” she heard Jordan whisper.
Looking over her shoulder, she found him standing next to Jonathan, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Ori has just agreed to be our wife.”
Jordan looked disappointed. “Damn, I missed it.”
“I’m surprised you were able to sleep through it.”
Oriana turned back to Jack. “I think you need to start gagging me.”
Epilogue
Only three weeks had passed since the proposal, only three days since the wedding, but it seemed like a lifetime ago.
Oriana, curled up in Jonathan’s computer chair, stared at the wedding picture on his desk. The four of them all dressed up, standing next to her plane. It had been a small ceremony, just them, the celebrant, and his staff. Jordan had been Jack’s best man, Jonathan her “man of honor”. He also gave her away.
She really wished her father could have been there to do it. He would have been so thrilled for her. Okay, maybe a little shocked as well once he learned that, yes, she was “legally” married to one, but in truth, she was married to all three. But her dad had been a pretty open-minded, non-judgmental man, and had raised her to be the same. So as long as she was happy and they treated her well, she suspected he would have been fine with her new life.
It was too bad she couldn’t legally marry all three. Truthfully, it was more of an issue for her than it was to them. They guys were fine with it. She raised her left hand and studied the tri-colored gold eternity band encrusted with round diamonds, almost not believing the fantasy had come true for her. She smiled, recalling how a couple of days after the proposal, she’d tried to break off the engagement, citing that she loved all of them, and that if she couldn’t marry all of them, then she would marry none of them.
Yeah, that hadn’t gone over so well.
She finally conceded to their argument that it was for her legal protection to have their name, in case something should happen to them. Plus, as Jordan pointed out, marriage was a nice tax break for Jack.
Dear Jordan, always so practical.
Oriana looked over to the next cubical where Jordan sat, typing away, deep in concentration. It was his fault that she had yet to get her full “happy ending”. Everything else was perfect except… Jordan had yet to make a move on her.
As if sensing her regard, he cast a glance her way, though his fingers continued to fly over his keyboard. “What’s up, sweetheart? Did you pick out a place for the honeymoon yet?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not feeling up to it.”
Jordan frowned, taking in her appearance. She was still in her pajamas, which today consisted only of her favorite red tank—which barely covered her very bare bottom. She’d given up on wearing underwear. Why bother? Jonathan would just steal them away from her. Seriously, the man was anti-panties.
“Are you unwell? What’s wrong?”
Candid. Candid. Candid.
“I’m just tired today. It’s been quite a month.”
Damn. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. She just couldn’t bring herself to say what was bothering her. She was starting to really worry about their lack of intimacy. She went through the range of reasons in her head— He was secretly gay and didn’t want to admit it. He was really a virgin and too nervous to make the first move. He didn’t find her sexually attractive enough to engage her in anything more than affectionate friendship. He was impotent and too embarrassed to say so…
She wished he’d just tell her something. It wouldn’t change how she felt about him, but she could sure use the peace of mind.
Not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already were, she’d broken a rule and not shared her concerns with any of her spouses, too afraid of making Jordan uncomfortable, or worse, having his brothers call him out it—which was something Jonathan would definitely do, especially since he assumed she and Jordan had been intimate. She’d never bothered to correct that assumption.
Hm. Maybe I should talk with Jack—
“So where’s Jon?” Jordan asked.
Oriana awarded him a smile. “He’s been out all morning looking for the helicopter keys again. Jack just left a few minutes ago, grumbling that he had to go check on Jonathan and make sure he was staying on task. For his sake, I hope he is.”
“I thought Jon got the replacement parts two weeks ago. I know he changed out the front door locks, or Jack would have postponed the wedding. You know, the last time we all went out and left the door unsecured, we came home found some strange woman sleeping in Jon’s bed.”
Oriana laughed. “Seriously? How rude.”
“While we are grateful for that day, since it brought you into our lives, I don’t think my brother will ever take another risk like that again. So what happened with the helicopter?”
“Well, if you wouldn’t have pulled a Jack on me and locked yourself up in the office like some recluse, you’d know what was going on around here.”
He grinned sheepishly, but still didn’t draw his eyes from his screen or slow the pace of his fingers. “Sorry, Ori. I’ve been trying to get this new program finished. I didn’t mean to ignore you. You always come first. If you need my attention, I can take a break.”
“No, no, I’m fine. Actually, I don’t want to disturb you. Perhaps I should leave so you can concentrate.”
“Stay, sweetheart. I can talk to you and type code. I’m an expert at multitasking. Anyway, I’m almost done. Tell me what happened with Jon and the helicopter parts.”
She sighed. “You remember when you all picked up that package at the post office? I guess there was a crucial part missing from the kit. Jonathan contacted the manufacturer, but the part is on backorder.”
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“Yikes.”
“Yeah, it sucks. I tried my best to get some of the heat off Jonathan, you know, reminding Jack that you all could take the plane whenever you all wanted, ensuring him that we were not going to starve, etcetera. But Jack wasn’t hearing it. He said that we needed to store the plane back at the city, before it draws too much attention.”
“He’s right,” Jordan said. “Some of the refuge employees know we’re here, but they’ve been ordered to keep quiet and leave us alone. They have always followed that mandate. However, they’re curious about us, and what appears to be an abandoned plane on a lake might give them a valid reason to stop by for a visit.
“Really? I thought no one knew about you all.”
“They think we work for the EPA, government scientists doing field research on the effects of global warming on specialized ecosystems.”
“Wow, you have a cover. That is so…incredibly sexy. Does anyone else ever come by, or accidentally stumbles upon your location?”
“Every once in a while, but they usually just see the sign and move on.”
“What sign?”
He chuckled. “The official ‘no trespassing’ one that states how this is a restricted area and violators are subject to federal persecution that might result in a hefty fine and prison time.”
“Huh. I must have missed it.”
God, all this official secret spy stuff was making her kind of horny.
“Here, take a look.” Jordan moved his mouse then indicated for her to come closer and look his monitor.
Rising from her chair, she moved behind him. A view from outside was displayed on the screen, showcasing the sign.
“You have cameras?”
“Constantly recording.” With another click, the display melted into nine smaller squares images from around the bunker—four on the outside, one in the tunnel, and four on the inside: living room, hallway and two views of the office.
Oriana leaned over Jordan’s shoulder for a closer look at the last visual. Moving the cursor, he clicked on the square they occupied, bringing up a full screen shot.
She waved, amused to see herself on camera. “That is so cool.” Inhaling his clean, woodsy scent, she then nuzzled his neck and smoothed her hand down his hard chest, watching her movements on the monitor. Knowing that they were being recorded thrilled her to no end.
“Ori, what are you doing?”
Yes, what am I doing?
Perhaps this was where she went wrong. She’d been waiting for him to make the first move, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. But perhaps she needed to coax him a little, show him how much she was interested. Maybe if they played a little game…
She kissed and licked his neck, her fingers ever so slowly traveling lower. “I’m testing you,” she murmured against his skin.
“On what?” he rasped.
“Your multitasking skills.” She cupped his package, and nipped his earlobe. “Do your work, Jordan.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Write your program, dear. Ignore me…if you can.”
He chuckled. “Is that a challenge?”
“I don’t think your staunch concentration can hold up against my seduction. If it can, I will be impressed. If not…” she trailed off.
“What are the parameters of this challenge?”
“Finish your program before succumbing to me. It’s that simple.” She began to undo his pants. “We’ll be playing for bragging rights, so don’t let me win.”
“I won’t be able to resist you, Ori. You’re too damn sexy.”
“You’ve done a good job of it so far,” she mumbled, her hand delving down to find his cock. She was pleased—and relieved—to find it hard.
“It wasn’t like that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to rush things between us. I was waiting for the right time—”
“I think it’s now, dear.” She pulled out his cock out and began stroking its length. “Or perhaps not. If you don’t start working, I’m going to stop playing.”
He groaned.
“Do you want that? Is now not the ‘right time’?” she whispered in his ear, her fingers tightening around his girth. “Do you not want to play with me?”
“Fuck,” he muttered, restoring his programming screen.
She smiled and lowered herself to her knees, then crawled under his desk. As she took up position between his legs, she heard the keyboard began clicking.
Licking her lips to moisten them, she pumped him a couple of time before wrapping her mouth around his silky smooth hardness.
“Jesus,” she heard him swear. The speed of the clicks increased.
In rhythm to his fingers rapidly tapping away at the keys, she glided her mouth up and down his rigid length, following the path of her clutching fingers, relishing the feel and taste of him.
His breathing labored, he typed even faster.
In turn, Oriana slowed her pace, and on the up stroke, sucked in hard, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, flicking it along his smooth ridge.
“Fuck, fuck,” he bit out, the words punctuated by thumping keystrokes. “Feels so good. Too good…”
Realizing the impact she was having, thrilled at the prospect that he might lose, she descended again, taking him deep into her throat, while her free hand cupped his velvet-soft sac. Up and down, faster and faster, she worked his cock and balls with her mouth and hands, feeling delightfully wicked and wanton, absolutely naughty. At that moment, she wanted nothing more in the world than his bring about his downfall, his completion, to force him to release his thick warmth so she might taste him, drink him.
“Come inside my mouth,” she rasped. “Please, I want you to come inside my mouth. Right now.”
“Goddamn it, Ori.”
The competitive tension grew heavier, a swelling sense of urgency, and she could hear his fingers flying across his keyboard at a seemingly inhuman speed. He was either about to finish his project and win, or he was about to succumb to his orgasm. Her body tingled with anticipation, his excitement feeding her own, and arousal dampened her inner thighs. With her desire flaming, she increased her ministrations, stroking and sucking his dick like she was starved for it, nearly succumbing herself as she envisioned wringing his pleasure and winning the game.
…-tap-tap—TAP!-…
“Get up here,” he growled.
Oriana let out a surprised squeak as he shoved his chair back and pulled her from under the desk, jerking her to her feet. He then bent her over the desk, parted her thighs, and plunged his cock deep inside her wet pussy. She gasped at the sudden intrusion.
The man didn’t waste any time.
He pounded into her mercilessly while she clawed for leverage, and screamed for more. “Oh, my God! Jordan! Fuck me! Harder!”
Suddenly, he lifted her ass up and heaved forward, depositing her on top of the desk. She fought to stay up on her hands and knees, destroying the desktop’s organized neatness as he continued hammering with propelling force. The phone tipped over, the keyboard went crashing to the ground, and folders slid about as stationary went flying and pencils and pens rolled around.
Somehow, Oriana managed to raise her arms and latch her fingers around the handles of the cabinet above her, anchoring her weight against the sybaritic onslaught from behind. She met his ramming thrusts full on, and the whole cubicle shook with the animalistic passion they shared.
The intense pleasure racking her body was nearly blinding. “Fuck Jordan! Yes! More!”
“You’re so hot and tight.”
His words did it.
She came so hard that she pulled the cabinet doors off, causing the shelves within to cave. Books and manuals rained down upon her.
Jordan immediately drew her back and spun her around, lifting her up as he did. Forcing her legs to wrap around his waist, he pressed her against the partition that separated his cubicle from Jonathan’s and resumed fucking her senseless.
“Oh God—Oh God!”
Oriana clawed at his shoulders as his hard, powerful thrusts continued slamming her into the flimsy paneled wall, his cock relentlessly drawing one mind-blowing orgasm after another from her body.
She closed her eyes tight, her wails of pleasure mingling with his passionate grunts and the cracking groan of office furniture. Jordan bellowed, plunging deep, and she screamed, succumbing to a final earth shattering climax that made the world tip and had her free falling.
Jordan landed on top of her with a loud, resounding crash.
She opened her eyes after a few moments, still panting and shuddering from orgasmic aftershocks, and gazed up at him in awe.
“Wow,” she finally breathed.
He kissed her thoroughly. “Are you okay?” he rasped against her lips. “Are you hurt?”
Huh? “Hurt? No. Why would I be?”
Jordan smiled, kissed her nose, and moved back.
The first thing that registered was the easy view of the office ceiling. Next, she took note of the hard, inclined surface beneath her.
Adjusting his hold, he guided them down the slope until they both reached the floor. With him kneeling between her legs, his hands skimmed down her sensitized body, as if checking for injury, while she surveyed her surroundings—and the utter destruction.
The partition had failed to hold-up against the onslaught of their passion. Unfortunately, as if that wasn’t bad enough, it appeared that the thin, cubicle wall was the main structural support that held up one side of Jonathan’s desk—a desk that no longer existed as a whole fixture. It had collapsed when the partition gave out. Looking as if a tornado had swept through his cubby, all of Jonathan’s things lay toppled over and scattered about.
Oriana shifted her position, trying to find comfort while sitting on a debris-littered floor, to no avail. Reaching beneath her ass, she removed the one item that seemed to be causing her the most irritation.
She pulled out a set of keys, ones matching Jonathan’s description.
