by Sierra Dafoe
“Yeah, but what about a wedding? I mean, there’s gonna be talk enough, Tommy.” Judah was dressed in nothing but his jeans, his broad back facing her. Tommy, she noted abruptly, was completely naked.
Oh God, they really had done that. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the recollection flowed through her mind. They’d made her come so hard she’d passed out, practically, tumbling into a sleep so deep she hadn’t woken even while they’d set up the bed.
Tommy shrugged after a moment. “You ask her. She already turned me down.”
“Ask me what? And where did the bed come from?”
They spun to face her, looking almost guilty. Tommy cleared his throat. “From the attic. I didn’t want to take it with me when we moved.”
“Moved to where, anyway?” She smiled, sitting up, only realizing she was naked as the sheet over her slid downward, baring her breasts. Both Tommy and Judah followed the motion, the expression in their eyes growing suddenly intent.
“There’s only one answer. We’re just going to have to share you, Annie.”
She stared back at them, finally grasping the full depth of what they were offering. Finally understanding that for once, she didn’t have to choose.
Didn’t have to feel torn in two.
Didn’t have to leave them.
A relief so great it felt like agony flooded through her. Burying her face in her hands, Annie burst into tears.
Immediately, they were beside her, Tommy sitting on the mattress with his arms around her while Judah stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. “Shh, Annie. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”
“You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “I’m happy. I’m happy.”
Through her tears, she caught the perplexed glances they gave each other. It made her laugh even as she was crying.
Great, Annie. Two men can’t figure you out any more than one can.
Except they had. Both of them. They’d finally realized what she’d never been able to make them see—that she couldn’t choose between them. She loved them both too much.
“Just hold me,” she whispered. Tommy held her closer, pillowing her head on his shoulder. She looked up at Judah. “Both of you, Ju.”
Tommy stiffened momentarily, then made himself relax. It would take time, Annie realized, for them both to get comfortable—but it’d be okay.
She’d make damn sure of it.
Turning her head, she reached an arm out to Judah, drawing him down onto the bed with Tommy and her. He lay on his side and Annie rolled toward him, feeling Tommy shift with her until he was curled against her back. Tommy’s arm was looped around her waist, his hand caressing her ribcage. Smiling, she led Judah’s hand to her ass as she kissed him, slow and wet and deep.
His hand tightened, kneading her bottom. Tommy lifted his hand to stroke her hair back, baring her neck so he could nuzzle it softly.
Annie smiled at the feel of them surrounding her, cocooning her in the fierce, protective warmth of their love.
Oh yeah, they’ll get comfortable with this quick.
Epilogue
She could hear the sound of sawing from outside on the porch. Tommy’s voice drifted down the hallway from the open door.
“Damn it, Ju. No, the other end.”
Annie smiled, lifting the tea kettle from the gas stove. Warm sunlight fell through the big kitchen windows, pooling on the counter and making the petals of the Black-eyed Susans Tommy had picked her glow.
Mrs. Ambinder looked around as Annie filled her tea cup. “I must say, it’s nice seeing the old place set right.”
It still felt strange to Annie, standing on this side of the counter, with Mrs. Ambinder perched before her on her old stool. She smiled, though, and nodded. “It is, isn’t it? But I still wish you’d move in with us—it’s not right without you here.”
Mrs. Ambinder surprised her by blushing furiously. Her hands flapped in the air before her as if chasing off flies. “Gracious no, child! I don’t even want to think about what the three of you do at night, let alone hear it!”
Suddenly, it was Annie who was blushing, looking anywhere but at the pink-faced old woman.
Then Mrs. Ambinder reached over, patting her hand comfortingly. “Never you mind, Annie. I’m better off where I am, what with all the conveniences Judah put in the new house. I was fifty-eight before I ever owned a dishwasher, can you imagine?”
Her eyes twinkled, although the tips of her ears were still pink, Annie noted. “You just bring that baby down to visit his grandmother often,” she added, nodding at Annie’s swelling belly.
“What makes you so sure it’s a boy?” Annie teased.
Mrs. Ambinder smiled inscrutably. “Nothing. But I’m right. You’ll see.”
Yes, Annie thought, she probably would.
Standing, Mrs. Ambinder gathered together her things, pausing to hug Annie before she left the kitchen. “I’m glad you changed your mind about marrying Tommy,” she whispered. “You had to marry one of them, and Judah’s always been the stronger.”
Remembering all the years Judah had watched them, silent and protective, Annie had to agree. It was hard now to remember the grim, guarded expression he’d had for so long—especially now, she thought as she and Mrs. Ambinder walked out to the porch, seeing both brothers look up at her with broad, open grins.
Things did change, Annie realized suddenly. Even if sometimes it seemed to take forever. Gazing out at the pastures and the rumpled, rolling hills, she took a deep breath, smelling new paint and sawdust and the deep, vibrant richness of the Montana air.
About the Author
To learn more about Sierra’s books, please visit www.sierradafoe.com. Send an email to Sierra at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sierra_Dafoe
Look for these titles by Sierra Dafoe
Now Available:
The Boys Back Home
She could never choose between them. Until they both chose her…
The Boys Back Home
© 2008 Sierra Dafoe
Even as a young girl, Cassie Jordan knew the rules: one man, one woman. Especially in rural Idaho. But how can she choose between blond, kind-hearted Kyle Watson and dark, sensuous Alan Caine?
She can't. Not even when she discovers the two handsome cowboys in bed together and is convinced that neither of them cares for her at all. That discovery sends her running all the way to Chicago and into the arms of another man. Now, with her wedding fast approaching, it’s time to return to Preacher’s Bend to sort out her tangled emotions.
Now that Cassie’s back in town, Kyle and Alan are determined to do whatever it takes to keep her there. As far as they're concerned, there’s only one place on earth Cassie belongs—in their arms.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Boys Back Home:
How could he hold her like this, damn him? How could he touch her so gently when she hated him? He’d broken her heart, he and Alan—they’d torn it between them like two puppies with a sock, leaving her with nothing but ripped, tangled shreds.
Why wouldn’t he let her go?
Kyle was saying something, but she was shrieking too loud to hear him, her fists flailing at his chest, his shoulders, struggling to break his grip on her. She screamed as he swung her upward, scooping her unceremoniously into arms that felt suddenly like steel bands, pinning her to him.
He carried her into the parlor and lowered her onto to the sofa. Immediately Cassie sprang back off it, trying to get past him.
“Cassie!” Grabbing her arm, he shoved her back down, pinning her bodily to the cushions. She arched below him, screaming, fighting against the hands clasping her shoulders, the legs wrapped tight around her own.
“Cass! Damn it, Cass, breathe!”
She glared up at him wildly…and saw him staring down at her, panting, his eyes wide and shocked. Like a cord snapping, her rage broke, running out of her like water through san
d. She sobbed, feeling all the grief and hurt she’d kept so long at bay wash over her, seizing her as ruthlessly as a tidal wave.
Nothing was safe. Nothing held its shape—not Kyle, not Alan, not the world. Nothing.
Ten days after that night at Big Blue’s, Meredith Jordan had suffered a fatal heart attack. Cassie, who had moved through those ten days wrapped in a numbness so deep she’d honestly believed she wasn’t really that hurt, had found the last tenuous strands of her childhood torn away, leaving her with nothing but a hollowness she knew she’d never be able to fill.
Now she cried, feeling the warm weight of Kyle’s body over her like a blanket, his arms shifting around her to hold her close. It wasn’t his fault that he wanted Alan. And he did love her. He did. He’d even been there for her at her mother’s funeral, if she’d wanted him, if she’d even so much as lifted a hand…
The parking lot hadn’t, in fact, been the last time she’d seen them. She’d spotted them at the cemetery, standing together far back in the crowd, their faces pale and somber. But by then she’d been too far gone to even care. As the first shovelful of half-frozen dirt had thudded down onto the casket, she’d turned on her heel and left. Before the sun rose again on Preacher’s Bend she’d been a hundred miles east, heading for Chicago.
Sliding an arm around his neck, she hugged Kyle apologetically as her tears finally slowed. His chest heaved with sharp, rasping breaths. Realizing only then how badly she’d frightened him, Cassie turned her head to whisper “I’m sorry” in his ear…and froze as his mouth, hot and demanding, closed on hers.
For a moment, her mind went terrifyingly blank. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. He didn’t want her. He’d never wanted her…
Then she was kissing him back with a frenzy that stunned her, pulling him to her with a desperation she’d never once felt with Richard. Kyle’s hands stroked her face, her arms, her back as their lips locked together, tongues darting hungrily into each other’s mouths, their bodies straining together as if starved for the contact.
Kyle pulled back abruptly, staring down at her in shock, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His silvery blue eyes seemed to burn into her, wide with questions, doubts and—unmistakably—desire. Groaning, he bent his neck to seize her mouth again, his tongue diving deep between her lips to taste her, devour her. She arched up against him as his hips pressed down, rubbing his cock right against the place that ached for him—that had always ached for him.
How many nights, how many years had she dreamed of this? Practically whimpering with impatience, Cassie tugged Kyle’s shirt from his jeans, sliding her hands under it to feel the hard, solid ripple of his abs. He kept his mouth tight against hers as he unzipped her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse, his fingers shaking, his eyes closed as if he, too, could barely believe what was happening. Hesitantly, he brushed his hand over the lace of her bra and she cried out, moaning into his mouth, holding him tighter as he squeezed first one breast, then the other with growing assurance.
Like teenagers, they rubbed against each other, legs intertwining, hips pistoning fiercely as they fought to press their bodies even closer together. The bulge of his erection strained against her clit, and he panted in her ear, his fingers finding the taut nub of her nipple and squeezing it over and over until she was writhing beneath him, her thighs wrapped around his hips, her hands scrabbling madly at his heavy sheepskin jacket. She dragged it off him, hungry for the feel of his body against hers, and felt him stiffen in sudden doubt or fear.
He couldn’t stop now—he couldn’t! With wanton desperation, Cassie buried her hands in his hair, dragging his mouth back down to hers, kissing him until something inside of him, some last hesitation, crumbled like sand. With a harsh, wild sob, he thrust his tongue deep into her open mouth and dragged her tight against him.
Fumbling, eager, they tore at each other’s clothes. Kyle hugged her to his chest with one arm as he worked her coat off with the other. Cassie didn’t even bother with the buttons of his shirt as she yanked it over his head, taking the white T-shirt beneath with it, and tugged his belt loose. Then she dropped her head against the arm of the couch, panting.
Bracing himself on his arms, Kyle looked down at her, his pale, piercing eyes drinking in the sight of her. Her blouse hung open; her breasts, cupped in her white lace bra, heaved with each breath. His gaze traced them, his pupils widening, and Cassie studied him just as avidly.
She hadn’t seen him shirtless since he was thirteen, his lengthening body still all sharp angles and seeming half-finished. Now she stared wonderingly, transfixed by the width of his burly shoulders, the solid curve of his collarbones, the firm swell of his chest flecked now with soft blond hairs. His nipples, small and tight, brushed against her palms as she slid her hand over his pecs, following the smooth rise and fall of his ribcage down to the taut muscles of his abs.
Groaning, Kyle bent his head, kissing the curve of her breasts above her bra, then raked his teeth lightly over one lace-clad nipple. Her pussy, already soaked with arousal, throbbed hungrily, and she pressed against him, sliding her hands up his back, feeling the heavy muscles beneath the velvety skin. Burying his face between her breasts, he murmured, “Cass… Oh, Cass.”
Can their love give her the strength to overcome the tragedy in her past?
Colters’ Lady
© 2010 Maya Banks
Colters’ Legacy, Book 2
When police officer Seth Colter sees the delicate, shabbily dressed beauty in line at the soup kitchen where he’s serving, he’s gut shot over the idea of her being on the streets cold and alone. More baffling is the dark, possessive instinct that tells him she belongs to him.
For Lily Weston, home is a secluded nook in a back alley—until Seth offers her a place to stay. She’s wary of his offer, but even one night out of the cold is too much temptation to resist.
Seth is convinced Lily is his. The problem is, when his brothers lay eyes on her, the same primitive instinct comes roaring to the surface. The Colters never imagined they’d follow the unconventional path of their fathers, but they can’t ignore their mutual need to offer Lily their protection—and their love. But before Lily and the brothers can forge a future together, they must heal the deep wounds of her past.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, multiple partners, ménage a quatre, violence.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Colters’ Lady:
Michael’s gaze was drawn to the kitchen entrance where he was astonished to see a woman standing in the doorway. She was dressed in what looked like a pair of Callie’s old pajamas. Her eyes were wide with…fear? She looked anxious, and she stared at Michael like she was afraid he was going to jump up and pounce.
An eerie sensation niggled his nape and snaked down his spine, spreading like wildfire. What the hell? He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had the most stunning blue eyes he’d ever seen on a woman. Her hair fell over her ears and to her chin in soft curls. She looked…enchanting, like some delicate fairy come to life.
And what the fuck was he doing sitting here mooning on about goddamn fairies? Jesus on an eggshell but he was losing his ever-loving mind.
He was starting to think stupid things, like he’d do anything at all to remove the fear from her gaze. He wanted to protect her.
And she was coming out of his brother’s bedroom. Or at least from that general vicinity.
“S-Seth?” she asked in a wavery voice. But before Seth could respond, she said, “I should go. I need to go.”
Her voice was whisper soft, and before he could catch himself, Michael was on his feet—to do what? Keep her from going?
He forced himself to stand there while Seth hurried toward the woman.
“Lily, no,” Seth said in a soft, urgent voice as he took her shoulders in his hands.
So Lily was her name. Michael watched as Lily skittered away from Seth’s grasp, her eyes darting toward Michael as she did.
“
Honey, it’s only Michael. My brother Michael. Remember, I told you all about him last night?”
“The vet,” she said in a husky voice.
“Yes, that’s right. He just started his practice back home.”
“I should go,” she said again, and Michael saw her edge toward the hallway that led to the bedroom.
“Stay and eat breakfast. I made you a cup of hot chocolate. It’s probably cold by now, but I can pop it into the microwave for you.”
She hesitated, her gaze going between the two brothers.
“I need to get dressed,” she said faintly.
“Okay. I’ll be here in the kitchen. I’ll make breakfast so you can eat when you get out.”
She was gone before Seth could say another word. When he turned back to Michael, there was something decidedly desperate in his older brother’s eyes. A desperation that for some reason, Michael felt in equal measure.
“Who is she?” Michael rasped out. Hell, he couldn’t even talk right. He had a knot in his throat the size of a boulder.
Seth cut an impatient glance at his brother. “Lily,” he bit out. “Just Lily.”
“Who is she to you?”
Seth swung around, his eyes blazing. “Why the hell do you want to know that?”
“I want to know,” Michael said. “I need to know, because damn it, I just had the most powerful reaction to a woman I’ve had in my entire life, and I damn well need to know if I’m poaching on my brother’s territory.”
Seth’s mouth gaped open. “You stay the hell away from her.”
“So it’s like that,” Michael said grimly. “You’ve staked a claim.”
“Are you out of your mind? You just met the woman. What are you planning to do, haul her off over your shoulder?”
“Maybe,” Michael said calmly. “Probably.”
