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Page 26

by Ranae Rose


  “Better go inside and let Katrina clean you up.” Clearly, Torben’s accidental blow had re-opened John’s wound. Brom could easily feed the rest of the horses on his own. Maybe a bit of time spent with Katrina was just what John needed to realize what was so plain – that she was happy with the decision the three of them had made and that she loved John just as much as she loved him.

  * * * * *

  Katrina was industriously scrubbing the kitchen when John entered, his hand sticky with blood. As his footsteps caused the floorboards to shake beneath her knees, she looked up, her eyes going wide. “What happened to you, John?” She was hurrying toward him in an instant, the chore forgotten.

  Feeling vaguely guilty, he told her briefly what had happened, assuring her it was nothing serious.

  “I’ll fetch a cloth,” she assured him, and whisked quickly away only to return moments later with a cloth and a bowl of water.

  John let her pry his hand away and press the cool cloth against his cheek, soothing the wound. It stung where it had been reopened, and ached deep beneath, all the way to the bone. Her touch was tender but sure, utterly soothing. It made his gut twist to think that he might have let things go too far the night before, and that they couldn’t be undone. “Katrina,” he breathed as water beaded on his lip. “Tell me truly – are you content with this arrangement, with what happened last night?” His cock stirred traitorously, even as he steeled himself for her reply.

  Her eyes and lips went equally round with surprise as she lowered the cloth from John’s face and dipped it into the bowl of water.

  “If you’re not, I apologize.” Water trickled into his mouth, embittered with blood.

  “Of course I’m content,” Katrina said. “What would make you think otherwise?”

  “It’s only that—” How could he put his worries into words? Yes, she’d seemed to enjoy what he’d done to her the night before – he never would have been able to go through with it if she hadn’t given every appearance of ecstasy – but he’d been half-frenzied, his judgment clouded, perhaps, by his lust. And even if the experience had been physically agreeable to her then, that didn’t mean it didn’t trouble her mind now. “It seems absurd that I should expect you to be content with having given your virginity to a man other than your husband. Especially one such as myself.” He waved a hand toward his face. Being deflowered by a man who didn’t have any real right to touch her, whose face was a mask of bruises and cuts… It must have been a frightful experience.

  “Oh, John.” She dropped her cloth into the bowl, where it sank beneath the surface of the reddened water. “You worry too much. I mean what I said; I love you just as I love Brom. How could I possibly be unhappy with what we’ve done? To tell the truth it…it seems too good to be true, and I fear I may wake up to find that it’s all been a dream.”

  “Funny,” John said, his stomach knotting. “I feel the same way.” Only he was afraid that he’d wake to find himself caught in a nightmare, despised by Katrina and cut off from Brom. Could the sheer perfection of what they’d experienced the night before really last? Could life truly be lived this way?

  Katrina’s lips quirked in a smile, and she placed her hands on John’s shoulders.

  “Careful,” he said, “you’ll soil your gown.”

  His cheek was wet; a mixture of blood and water tickled his jaw, threatening to drip.

  “It can be washed,” she replied, and leaned in, pressing her lips lightly against his.

  Her kiss sent a shiver of sensual delight down his spine and roused a burning hunger deep within him. His own nipples went hard as her breasts met his chest, full and soft. The memory of them from the night before was vivid in his mind; the weight of them in his hand, the sweet stiffness of their tips in his mouth. She was perfect. Brom had only told John directly that he loved him once, but his willingness to share Katrina was more proof than anyone could have asked for.

  The kitchen door swung open, admitting a rush of cool air, and boots sounded against the floorboards. John jumped reflexively and turned, relieved and anxious at the same time to confirm that it was Brom who’d entered. Despite Brom’s blessing and the love shared between the three of them, accepting Katrina’s kiss still felt sinful.

  “Bad news,” Brom declared, saying nothing of the kiss, though his eyes gleamed as he surveyed the two of them. “There’s been some trouble at the schoolhouse.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “The schoolhouse? But there are no classes today.” While the children were more than capable of getting up to mischief on a school day, it was difficult to imagine anything going awry when they weren’t even there. “Is the roof leaking again?”

  Brom shook his head, rolling his broad shoulders as if he’d just been carrying a heavy burden. He probably had been. John’s insides twinged with guilt at the thought of Brom performing manual labor while he himself had been inside, snuggling up to Katrina. “The building’s been damaged.”

  “What – how?”

  “Don’t know. Joel Claus just rode by and stopped to inform me so that I might tell you.”

  Joel Claus was another farmer, one who lived nearby. If he knew, most of the village probably did as well. Before John could ask another question, Brom turned back toward the door. “Shall we go and see the damage for ourselves?”

  John agreed, and despite the feeling of foreboding that hung overhead like a storm cloud, he still felt warm inside when he cast one last glance at Katrina and bid her goodbye. Then he and Brom were in the stable, saddling horses.

  Brom rode Torben and John took a sturdy bay gelding that wasn’t as handsome as Torben, but was a significantly better ride than Gunpowder. As they rode through Sleepy Hollow, eventually approaching the schoolhouse, apprehension had John sitting tall in the saddle, craning his neck to peer ahead.

  The building was most definitely still standing – John’s nervousness ebbed a little at the sight of it. It had occurred to him during the ride that it might have been burnt, somehow, or otherwise irreparably spoiled. There were some signs of exterior damage, however. The door hung crookedly on one hinge, and the building’s sole glass window had been shattered. After tethering their horses, John and Brom approached the gaping door.

  The inside of the schoolhouse was in shambles. All the benches and desks were overturned and had been strewn about the room as if caught up in a tornado. Something streaked down the walls, crusty and odorous – eggs, upon closer inspection. One of the shells crunched under John’s foot as he stared at a place where the wall was bright yellow with dried yolk. The most startling thing, though, was the phrase that had been emblazoned onto the back wall in large, angular letters. Leave Sleepy Hollow, it read, the letters written in what appeared to be blood. Below was an ominous, flamboyant signature.

  “Vandals,” Brom growled, stepping up to the wall and leering at the crimson letters as if they’d yield evidence of who’d written them if he stared long enough.

  “Indeed. But who?”

  “Not the headless horseman,” Brom said, “I’ll guarantee you that.”

  The blunt message was indeed signed ‘the horseman’, in dripping red letters. Of course, John didn’t believe for a moment that it might have actually been the headless horseman who’d wreaked havoc on the schoolhouse and written the message. Not really.

  “Probably Dirck,” Brom said, spitting out the name, “or some of his cohorts.”

  “Probably,” John echoed, his gaze lingering on the red letters. It was probably only chicken blood, but… No, it was definitely animal blood. Any one of the local farmers could have acquired it easily enough, and it was no surprise if Dirck and his companions had decided to try to frighten John after what had happened the day before. Anger flared within John as he looked around at the damage. Not only were things a mess, but some of the benches and desks had been broken in places. “School is going to have to be put off for at least another day in order to make repairs. This doesn’t harm me nearly so much as it harms the
children. Doesn’t Dirck care about that?”

  Brom snorted. “Dirck isn’t the sort who values education. I imagine he thought this would be the best place to strike back at you, now that you’re living with me – he wouldn’t dare try anything like this at my home.” Brom stood glaring, his arms crossed over his chest. “Damned coward.”

  Brom was probably right, and in the end, the damage done to the schoolhouse could be repaired. But there was a bigger problem. “People will talk, and not everyone will believe it was Dirck or his friends who did this. Some parents might be afraid to send their children to school if they believe the headless horseman really was behind this.”

  Brom frowned, saying nothing – news of the vandalism would have spread through the entire village like wildfire by now. “It’s a pity we couldn’t have caught the culprits red-handed. I suppose all we can do now is make repairs.”

  “Let’s get rid of the blood first,” John said, rolling up his sleeves.

  * * * * *

  By the time Brom and John arrived home, dusk was beginning to descend. Brom’s muscles ached faintly from a long day of manual labor. The lifting hadn’t been bad, but all the scrubbing had been a nightmare. Removing the blood and egg stains from the inside of the schoolhouse had taken the better part of the day, and his knuckles had been rubbed raw. So had John’s. The work had been hard on him; that much was clear from the way he walked as they approached the farmhouse, his head bowed slightly in weariness. It probably wasn’t good for his injuries for him to have labored so hard all day, but he’d refused to not help Brom with the work.

  Katrina greeted them at the door, smiling despite the fact that they were work-worn, and their clothing dirty. The evening light spilled over her face, highlighting several curling tendrils of her golden hair, which had escaped from beneath her cap to frame her face. In the twilight glow, her beauty seemed almost other-worldly. John must have thought the same thing, for he straightened, his lips curling in a dreamy smile that belied the gleam of lust in his eye. Brom couldn’t blame him for his reaction – not when he himself felt like taking her into his arms and making love to her then and there. Instead he followed her to the table, where she’d laid out a delicious-looking dinner. Brom’s stomach growled, even as his mind whirled with carnal thoughts.

  Dinner was a quick affair; both Brom and John ate enthusiastically, pausing only to fill Katrina in on the day’s events, which had been dull, for the most part. She frowned when they told her of the message that had been painted onto the wall though. “Do you think Dirck Acker was responsible?”

  She wasn’t just beautiful, but intelligent, and not frightened too easily. He’d been fortunate to marry her instead of being saddled with one of the other local women, most of whom had less sense. The majority of Sleepy Hollow’s women were surely gossiping away over the matter, and half of them probably believed that the threat really had been written by the headless horseman. But not Katrina. Brom nodded, his insides warmed by dual feelings of pride and satisfaction. “Him, and maybe some of the men who joined him in harassing John yesterday.”

  Katrina nodded, still frowning pensively. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to conduct classes tomorrow, will you John?”

  “I’m afraid not,” John said between bites.

  Katrina’s lips quirked in a brief smile that was quickly suppressed. Was she pleased that John would have to stay home tomorrow? Probably. She most likely wanted him to take another day off from his duties to recover – not that he’d rested today, by any means. Either that, or maybe she simply relished the thought of his company. That notion caused Brom’s cock to start swelling and his appetite to suddenly seem unimportant. God, he couldn’t wait to have her and John in bed again. Had she been looking forward to it all day too, pining for it as he and John had been?

  He and John hadn’t dared to speak much of the matter that day, as the schoolhouse had received a steady stream of visitors including everything and everyone from curious onlookers to local men volunteering to help with the repairs. But Brom had seen the telltale look in John’s eye, and noticed the way his interest had peaked the few times Brom had mentioned Katrina in passing… He’d be damned if John hadn’t been thinking about last night all day, just as he had.

  When dinner was over, Brom’s erection was full-fledged and hard as a rock. John clearly noticed, his eyes flickering toward Brom’s waist when he pushed back his chair and rose from the table. The weight of John’s brief gaze was palpable, burning, and left Brom simmering with desire even after John looked away. And Katrina… She was rising from her seat at the table, pushing her chair underneath. She was only a few feet away, and he could virtually feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, could practically taste her. Brom’s cock throbbed, desperate to be inside either of them – both of them. He reached out and wrapped an arm around Katrina’s waist, pulling her against him.

  Her body seemed to immediately melt against his, and he smoothed his hands over her hips and belly, cupping her breasts. A thrill of satisfaction flared inside him when he saw how John was watching, his eyes turning a darker shade of grey with excitement. Brom played with Katrina’s nipples, causing them to go hard, to strain against her bodice, begging for more of his touch. “It’s not too early to go to bed, is it?” he asked.

  “No,” Katrina sighed, and he knew her answer had nothing to do with the fact that the sun was setting.

  John agreed, his eyes shining with the same desire that was broiling inside Brom.

  Brom’s cock continued to throb as they all three hurried to the bedroom. He stripped, eager to be free of his clothing and wrapped in another warm body – in two warm bodies – instead. John seemed to have conquered his inhibitions from the night before; he undressed too. His cheeks were flushed beneath his bruises and his cock looked as hard as Brom’s felt.

  Brom’s mouth watered with the sudden urge to taste John, to take him deep into his mouth and then his throat. He and John hadn’t interacted much for the past several days, and what they’d done that morning in bed had been a compromise, a desperate act of passion that they’d known would be necessary to be able to make it through a day filled with thoughts of the previous night’s pleasures. Now, Brom wanted more, wanted to take his time in exploring every bit of John’s body. But how would that affect Katrina? Was it too soon to show her his and John’s unrestrained passion, what it meant to love another man? Or would such a display excite her, as it had seemed to the night before?

  “Let me help you with that.” He assisted Katrina in shedding her gown, contemplating the matter as he relished the feel of her silky skin.

  When she was finally nude, he ran his hands over the curves of her body, caressing the full swells of her breasts and hips, her creamy-white thighs. John joined him, embracing her from behind, and they held her between them, their hands sliding eagerly over her porcelain skin. She sighed, tipping her head back against John’s shoulder and laying her hands on Brom’s chest. “I missed you both terribly today.”

  Her skin was so warm, her body so pliant beneath his and John’s hands. He couldn’t resist encouraging her. “That eager to find yourself between us in bed again?”

  Her breathy “yes” rushed against Brom’s ear as he cupped one of her breasts, and his balls tightened in response. God, she was serious, and clinging to him like she needed the support to stand. He teased her nipple, massaging and pinching it, thrilled by its stiffness. “We’ll be glad to oblige you,” he said, scooping her up and depositing her on the bed. “Tell us what you thought about while we were gone.”

  The rosy blush that stained her cheeks deepened as Brom and John climbed onto the mattress beside her. Brom caressed her breast again, playing with its stiff little peak. John did the same, massaging her other nipple, his lips parted and his eyes gleaming with obvious desire.

  “I’ll tell you,” she said, smiling tentatively. “I only hope you won’t be angry.”

  “Why would we ever be angry with you?”
/>   “I watched you,” she said, half-gasping as he pinched her nipple lightly. “Both of you, this morning.”

  It only took a moment for her words to settle in. “You watched John and me in bed this morning?” His cock ached, as much at the thought of her watching as the memory of how he and John had pleasured each other, stroking each other’s cocks until they’d climaxed.

  “Yes.” She really did gasp this time, her eyelids fluttering as John bowed his head to press a lingering kiss against her breast.

  “Where were you – in the doorway?” John asked, raising his lips from her curves.

  “Yes,” she said again, glancing back and forth between Brom and John.

  “Why didn’t you let us know you were there?” John sounded much like Brom felt – surprised and aroused by the idea of Katrina watching them in secret.

  She hesitated for a moment. “I enjoyed watching. I was afraid you’d stop if I interrupted.”

  Brom resisted the urge to climb on top of her and slide inside her. He ached for contact, for release, but her words had other ideas whirling through his mind. “You liked it.” It wasn’t a question; he believed her, but it felt good to say it, to acknowledge the fact – and most of all, to hear her say yes.

  “Very much,” she said, her voice soft. “I liked seeing you both kiss last night, as well.”

  Much like the night before, things suddenly took on a surreal quality, as if they were the events of some dream that would have had him tossing in his bed, groaning and spilling himself on the linens. “Would you like to see more?” he asked.

  He was barely able to make himself wait for her whispered “yes” before he seized John, pulling him into the sort of kiss he’d been longing to give him all day. Their mouths collided in a haze of heat and moisture, their tongues meeting. Katrina’s soft gasp spurred him to kiss John harder, reaching below to grasp his cock.

 

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