The Heart of Falcon Ridge

by DL Roan

  “Hmmm,” Claira hummed and turned her head toward the soft hand that caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Mason’s staring back at her in wonder, his eyes as dark as the deepest ocean.

  “That was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.” His thumb slid over her lips, tracing along the seam as Matt continued to pepper slow, sensual kisses along her neck and shoulder.

  Claira couldn’t help the guilty feeling that pushed at the edges of the euphoria surrounding them. She glanced down at the apparent bulge tenting the front of Mason’s black boxers and a frown pulled at the corner of her lips.

  As if reading her thought’s, Mason slid a finger under her chin and tipped her face back to his, pressing a soothing kiss against her swollen lips. He kissed the tip of her nose then pulled back to look at her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. There will be plenty of time to get to that.”

  “But you didn’t…” She chanced a timid glance back down to his groin. She was utterly boneless. She had nothing left to give. How could she physically satisfy two men?

  Mason chuckled, reaching out to trace her cheekbone. “Oh, but I did, in a way. I felt every pulse, every sensation that passed between the two of you. It was incredible.” The expression on her face told him she wasn’t quite buying it. “We’ll have our time, sweetheart, when you’ve had time to recover. There will be times when we’re all together, and other times when each of us has you all to ourselves. But no matter what, you get the final say. We don’t ever want you to feel pressured to be with any one or all of us.”

  Claira was astounded at what she felt swelling in her heart for this man; for both of them. Was this love? She didn’t know, but all the wants and needs she’d held back her entire life seemed to burst through the dam she’d built to keep them at bay. “I want you, though. I want to feel you with me like this.”

  Mason placed another kiss on her nose and tweaked her nipple, eliciting a squeal from her and a laugh from Matt. “Believe me, sweetheart. I want you too. Let’s get you into a warm bath and we’ll see what happens after that.”

  Matt pushed up, both of them wincing as he pulled out of her tender sheath. He sat on the edge of the bed and slid the full condom from his spent cock. Claira gasped as the realization dawned. She hadn’t once thought about protection. How was she supposed to remember all the do’s and don’ts of something as elementary as sex when every brain cell in her head was liquefied every time they touched her.

  Matt heard her shocked gasp and turned to see her staring at the wad of tissue in his hand. He grinned and patted her bare thigh with his empty one. “We’ll always protect you, darlin’. You aren’t on the pill, are you?”

  She shook her head, worrying her lip between her teeth in that way that made him want to eat her alive.

  “Don’t worry about a thing, then. It’s our job to always protect you, Claira.” Matt stared into her sated, brown eyes, hoping she understood how serious they took that responsibility.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Billowy puffs of bubbles swirled around her sated and relaxed body as she reclined neck-deep in what had to be the largest bathtub known to man. The thin mat of coarse hair in the center of Mason’s chest tickled her back when Matt, sitting across from her, lifted her legs and draped them over his thighs. “Feelin’ better, darlin’?”

  Claira giggled when he teased the arch of her foot with a light squeeze. “If I felt any better I’d be the elemental equivalent of Jell-Oh—that feels good.” Her head fell back on a moan as Mason pressed his thumbs into the sore flesh between her shoulders. “I think I might have pulled something yesterday.”

  Matt exchanged a look with his brother, another silent message she didn’t understand. “Who’s Stephan?” he asked. His hand never ceased its soothing caresses on her foot, but his brows furrowed with concern when she hesitated to answer his question.

  “Is—was he the one you told us about earlier?” Mason asked, placing his lips against the slow curve of her neck. “Your first?”

  Claira pulled her legs from Matt’s lap and drew her knees into her chest, resting her chin on top of them. She scooped up a handful of bubbles as she thought about what to tell them. Stephan had been her world after their mother left. Now that she didn’t even have a picture of him, her memories were all that was left. The possibility of never sharing them with someone left a cold hollow in her chest. He deserved to be remembered.

  “He was my brother,” she finally said, scooping up another handful of bubbles, unable to look at either of them. “He died in an accident the day before my twenty-first birthday.”

  An accident she’d caused. Her memories of what happened that night were still fractured at best. The only thing she knew for sure was that, before she’d found him lying dead on her father’s library floor, she’d held the gun that had shot him.

  She’d taken the gun from her father’s desk to protect him. He was so angry with their father, and the screaming wouldn’t stop. Lucien had been marching toward Stephan with a look she knew all too well meant that Stephan was dead if she didn’t do something. That’s where her memories faded into nothingness. She woke up to a police officer standing over her, reading her rights. Her father had her arrested for murdering her own brother and her life as she knew it had fallen apart from there. But she couldn’t tell them any of it. She couldn’t tell anyone.

  “I’m so sorry.” Mason wrapped his strong arms around her. “What happened? Can you talk about it with us?”

  Claira shook her head. “I…” She bit down hard on her cheek, determined not to cry. “He was my hero, my world. I miss him terribly, but I can’t.”

  “That’s ok, sweetheart. We understand, believe me,” Mason said in a near whisper. “It’s still hard to talk about Sarah sometimes.”

  “You loved her very much, didn’t you?” A heavy guilt settled across her shoulders. She had no right to use their love for Sarah to divert their questioning about her brother. She simply couldn’t tell them about what had happened the night Stephan died.

  “We did,” Matt said, grabbing the shampoo and pouring a generous amount into his palm. He motioned for Claira to lean back into Mason’s arm and began massaging the clean smelling soap into her wet hair. “She died giving birth to Con and Car. She had a heart condition that had gone undiagnosed throughout her pregnancy and went into cardiac arrest minutes after Car was delivered.” Matt’s nostrils flared when his chest expanded on a deep, wrenching breath. “The doctors said she died instantly.”

  Mason looked down into her eyes as Matt scooped up a handful of water and drizzled it over her scalp. “It was the best and worst day of our lives.”

  Her heart seized for a beat and her chest began to ache. Some of the families of the children she’d worked with had splintered under the stress of such trivial things like a few missed car payments, or a string of late nights at the office. Their family had not only made it through one of the hardest tragedies the world could have thrown at them, they were still strong and bound by a love she’d thought only existed in fairytales.

  “Can you tell me about her?” Claira knew it wasn’t fair to ask it of them, especially when she’d avoided their questions about Stephan, but she felt an inexplicable desire to know the woman who had held these strong, wonderful men’s hearts. When Mason nodded, but didn’t continue, she asked what seemed like the least painful question she could think of. “How did you meet her?”

  Matt chuckled as he rinsed the last of the shampoo from her hair. “She took my bottle away and gave it to her kitten.”

  “What?” Claira giggled at the unexpected image.

  “We grew up together,” Mason shrugged, smiling as he lifted her from the water and drew her back against his chest, his hands cupping her breasts and lifting them until her taught nipples peaked above the bubbles. “Our mothers were best friends. It was sort of expected for us to be together. We never expected anyone else to capture our hearts.” His thumbs circled her nipples as he leaned in and
caught her earlobe between his lips, sucking off a drop of water. “Until now,” he whispered, his tongue flicking against the soft lobe, summoning the newly familiar ache between her thighs.

  “Mason.” She sighed and arched against his chest. Matt slid closer, his eyes fixed to Mason’s hands on her breasts. She leaned her head back against Mason’s shoulder as his hands left her sensitive nipples and slid over her ribs to her hips. He cupped her bare ass cheeks then continued up the back of her thighs to the bends of her knees, lifting and separated her legs, lowering her heels onto Matt’s shoulders.

  “Have I ever told you how gorgeous your legs are? So slender and perfectly toned.”

  “Ah, so he’s the breast man and you’re the leg man.” Claira laughed as Mason tickled the back of her knees, sending cold shivers over her wet skin and hot spikes of need to her core.

  Matt’s hands appeared through the puffy suds and cupped her breasts. “Getting cold?” He asked, his heated gaze focusing on her rigid nipples.

  Claira shook her head, unable to form the necessary syllables for a verbal response. Mason’s fingers trailed over her shins, stopping to circle her kneecaps before tracing twin paths up her inner thighs. When his thumbs came together over her slit and spread her lower lips, Claira’s back arched on a moan. Her heels slid from Matt’s shoulders, her legs falling open and draping over the crooks of Matt’s arms.

  Matt leaned forward, spreading her legs wider for his brother as he sucked a hard nipple between his teeth. Mason’s thick fingers traced her folds, exploring and caressing before pressing one into the depths of her tight, sensitive channel.

  “Still sore, sweetheart?” Mason’s voice rumbled in her ear. She sucked in a ragged breath through her teeth and tightened around his finger.

  “Not much,” she panted as his finger slid out and then slowly back in. She was a little tender, but not enough to want them to stop. She wanted—needed to feel them touch her.

  One of Matt’s hands left her breasts and found her hand under the water. He circled her wrist and brought her hand to his groin, wrapping her fingers around his engorged cock. She flinched when she touched him, but he covered her hand with his own and tightened his grip. “I’ll show you,” he said, dragging his lips across one nipple to the valley between her breasts.

  Claira licked her lips, wishing she could see what they were doing, yet grateful for the cover the thick bubbles provided. She wasn’t sure how to react or move and the distraction Mason was causing with his hands between her legs didn’t help her already handicapped coordination. When Matt’s hand moved hers up his thick shaft to the mushroom tip, they both moaned with pleasure.

  Mason thought he’d go out of his mind with need. His dick was so hard it was going to rupture if something didn’t happen soon. He’d already tested the limits of his control when he passed up her earlier offer. He hadn’t wanted to make their first time unpleasant for her, but damn he didn’t think he could take any more.

  One finger in her pussy, he moved his free hand between him and Claira and gripped his own dick. He pumped in time with his fingered thrusts into Claira’s scorching hot sheath and the motion of her hand on Matt. Dammit, he needed her heat around his cock and those legs around his waist!

  When Claira’s passage began to tighten like a vise around his fingers and her back arched into a tight bow, he knew she was close. He deepened his thrusts, crooking his fingers to find that special spot, at the same time easing his pinky down toward her back passage. His dick pulsed in his hand when he circled the tiny, smooth pucker, expecting her to tense against the unexpected sensation. Her husky groan spurred his desire and he sank the tip of his pinky past her tight ring of muscles on the next inward plunge. She soared, shouting her release as she bucked against his hand.

  Joining her in his own explosive release, Mason’s head fell back, his lips stretched tight across his teeth as he cried out behind her, his fist pumping in time with her inner spasms. Matt had to be close behind them.

  He saw something shift behind them and looked past Matt to see Grey leaning against the doorframe, his right hand aggressively massaging the bulge behind his zipper.

  Coming down from his high, Matt opened his eyes to see his telling gaze fixed to something behind him. He and Claira turned at the same time to look for themselves at what had captured Mason’s attention.

  “Oh God.” Claira’s hand drew back from Matt’s cock as she flailed against Mason, trying to sit up. When she looked down and saw that her breasts were on full display for Grey to look his fill, she slid back down beneath the bubbles, hoping there was enough to cover her.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Mason pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, covering her bare breasts. As if that was any better.

  She was humiliated. She knew it was silly. These three men had once shared a wife. Grey seemed to look straight through her. She didn’t think he liked what he saw. The protective and caring way he’d held her the night before, adding to the safety she’d felt for the first time in so long, warred with the almost hostile and brooding way he was staring at her now. She suddenly felt like an interloper; like she was treading on hallowed ground, and all for reasons she could easily understand.

  Before the embarrassment could claim her life as she’d silently prayed it would, Grey’s hands dropped to his sides, drawing out her desire to look at him. She’d only seen him in a business suit. Dressed in faded, worn, blue jeans, a hunter-green button up that made his angry, green eyes look like glowing jewels, he looked…hard. Everything about him seemed strong and tough. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his muscles bunched and flexed; his stance rigid and tense.

  His expression as unyielding as his posture, he cleared his throat with a growl and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Tearing his gaze from her virtually naked form, he looked first at Mason, then Matt.

  “We have a heifer down, up on Logan Bluff. Sheriff Long called it in about ten minutes ago. Saw it when he flew over on his way back from a trip to Missoula.”

  He glanced back at Claira and then down at his boots, toeing the bottom of the doorframe with his boot. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to go, but then stopped, pausing in the doorway.

  All she could see was his broad back as he leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. His slumped shoulders rose on a breath. She thought for a moment he was going to turn back around, but he dropped his head and pushed off the open frame again. “We need to ride up there now while we still have plenty of light.” Without a look back, Grey stepped away from the door and disappeared.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ten minutes later Matt met Grey at the top of the stairs and they raced down to the main floor together. When Grey pulled up short and darted into the kitchen, Matt paused in the hallway, a little confused. He turned to see what his big brother was doing. Thinking he’d maybe gone to get a thermos of coffee for the long ride ahead of them, Matt was a little puzzled to see Grey bent over in the pantry, the upper half of his body buried in the chest freezer.

  “What the…?” When Grey reemerged with a large bag and paced past him toward the front door, Matt had to ask. “What’s with the frozen peas?”

  Grey paused in the hall and grabbed his Stetson from the hook near the front door. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the saddle with a hard-on, but I’m sure it still hurts like a sonofabitch.”

  Fuck! Grey was right. As Grey headed out the door toward the barn, Matt turned and ran back to the pantry. He stirred the frozen contents in the overstuffed freezer until his hand landed on another bag and pulled it from the pile. “Carrots.” He slammed the freezer door shut and tore out to meet Grey. Who the hell cared what vegetable it was, as long as they numbed his dick enough to survive the trek to Logan Bluff and back.

  They were saddled up, iced down and about an hour into the two and a half hour trip before Matt broke the silence between them. “What did Benton have to say this mornin’ when
you went over to meet him and his dad at Claira’s?”

  Grey shifted in his saddle. “Frank changed out the porch lamp while Benton and I cleaned up the mess in the front yard.”

  Matt peered at Grey and scratched at his eyebrow. “That was thoughtful, but you still didn’t answer my question.”

  Grey slowed as he guided his paint over a precarious section of rock. Once they were both safely around the hazard, he turned in his saddle and looked back at Matt. “She’s not going back there.”

  “Dammit, Grey. Would you just spit it out?” Matt was about two seconds from pulling Grey off his damn horse and beating it out of him, again.

  “Benton’s called in a favor with one of his Ranger buddies down in Fort Worth. He’s running a check on Claira with the information he already has, but he’s asking this guy to dig around, see what he comes up with.”

  Matt pulled his horse up short. “What the hell? You’re runnin’ a check on her? Shouldn’t we be focusin’ on whoever this bastard is that has her scared out of her mind?”

  “Goddammit!” Grey turned his horse around to face him. “You were there! She’s not talking. We start with what we know, and right now all I know is that some sick bastard is tormenting a sweet, innocent school teacher that makes my dick so hard I can’t think straight. I know we’re not letting her go back there. I know we’re not letting her go anywhere or do anything that doesn’t include one of us until we figure out what the fuck is going on. We’ll talk to Uncle Cade, too. He might still have access to some of his old contacts with the Feds. He can start looking at whatever this guy in Fort Worth digs up.”

  Grey straightened in his saddle and spurred his horse back around toward the trail. Matt clicked his tongue and his horse trotted up beside him. “So you were watchin’ us this mornin’? You were listenin’ and watchin’ but you didn’t have the balls to—”