Battered Not Broken

by Celia Kyle

  She wanted to run in two directions at once. To the window, or through the door? Frozen, she clutched the knob as the voices continued, but she couldn’t hear any evidence of a continued fight.

  “Feel better now?” Ronan.

  He was okay. Her grip remained on the knob, even if she felt like sagging against the door in relief.

  “Asshole.”

  “That I am.”

  “Move, Max.”

  Feet moved on the other side of the door, their shadows peeking beneath the wood. Her heart had begun to slow at hearing the low growl of Ronan’s voice, but it was quickly picking up speed once again. Now was the time to flick the lock. Now!

  But she couldn’t. The sweet way Conner took care of her when she first arrived, the tender touches Max gave her as he cared for her cuts and the softest most touching kiss she’d ever received from Ronan made her hand freeze on the knob. They’d proven their tenderness and caring toward her, she couldn’t let Conner attack Ronan. Couldn’t.

  “Conner, I don’t think now’s the time…”

  “You’re not going in there, Conner.”

  “Watch me, Ronan.”

  “Guys, this is becoming a bit like a pissing match only you’re pissing gas and she’s the match. Do you really want to go in there as pissed off as you are?”

  Silence reigned then the sound of bare feet padding down the hall met her ears. They’d left. Maybe she could sneak into the living room and grab her shoes and then…well, she didn’t know what. She just knew their fighting freaked her the fuck out.

  Turning the knob, she opened the door on its silent hinges and was met with what she could only guess was Max’s back. Fuck!

  He must have heard her gasp, or breathe, or something because he whirled around. His furrowed brow and look of worry was quickly replaced with an easy smile—so much like Ronan’s, but different.

  “Mornin’, beautiful.”

  He greeted her as if he hadn’t just broken up a fight between his brothers. Like everything was as it should be in the world.

  “Max?”

  “Yep, you’re getting better at telling us apart.”

  Grunts and a thump against the house could be felt through the floor. Max coughed, pounding his chest and stamping his foot. Was she supposed to believe that the sound had come from him? Did she look like an idiot?

  “Where are Ronan and Conner?”

  The fear still waged a war against her compassion, but she didn’t like the idea of the two men fighting. The fact that the fight had been taken outside, she presumed to keep her from hearing, made her feel a little better, but she couldn’t let them beat the crap out of each other.

  “Uh. Around.”

  His body blocked the entire doorway, his shoulders nearly touching the sides of the doorjamb. She scooted as quickly as her feet would allow to the left, but he was too quick for her. She stepped back to look him in the eye.

  “Around?”

  “Uh huh.”

  She feigned right and moved her body left, but he blocked her again. Stepping back, she planted her hands on her hips and glared at Max.

  “Why are you keeping me locked in here, Max?”

  “Uh. What makes you think I am?”

  “Max?” She growled his name, low and as menacing as she could make it. “Do I look like an idiot to you?” She held up her hand. Max had proved to be the laid-back jokester of the family and she’d just walked him into the perfect set-up. “Wait, don’t answer that. Just tell me why I can’t go outside where it’s obvious Conner and Ronan are doing their best to kill each other.”

  Leaning against the doorjamb, Max looked defeated, his smile turning into a grimace as the seconds ticked by and grunts of pain could be heard from outside.

  “They didn’t want to scare you. They’re working out their differences the only way they know how and well, they don’t want you thinking of them as another 'door', beautiful. We all like you, a lot, and want you to feel safe and happy here. They didn’t think fighting in the hallway outside your bedroom would make you feel safe or happy.”

  Fuck if that wasn’t what she thought when she heard the first punch connect. Now, knowing that this just was the way they were, she wanted it to stop.

  “I’m going out there, Max, and you can’t stop me.”

  “Gillian, I really think it’d be best if we stayed inside until they’re done.”

  “No.” She’d made up her mind. Couldn’t he see that?

  Running his hands through his hair, she could practically see the wheels spinning as he tried to think of a different stalling tactic. But, he ended up repeating a phrase that was familiar and oddly comforting.

  “I’m carrying you.”

  Victory!

  Of course, her victory was short lived. When he bent to pick her up, she expected to be cradled in his arms like all three of the men had done before. Instead, he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ass straight up in the air.

  “Max! Put me down!”

  Chuckling as he strode down the hallway, his hand moved up and down the backs of her thighs and she couldn’t stop the shiver that raced through her. What kind of slut was she to get aroused by the brother of the man she’d kissed the night before?

  When he reached the door, he flung it open and stepped into the bright, frigid morning air.

  Fuck, it's cold!

  Smacking his lower back didn’t have any effect on the man. That had been proven by every hit she’d rained on him as he walked through the house. Aiming lower, she smacked his ass, which earned her a swat in return.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey yourself!” He laughed, deep and hard. She felt it through her entire body.

  Max strode around the wrap-around porch until they were within earshot of Conner and Ronan fighting. Gillian could hear their pants, grunts and moans as they fought. Hitting Max’s back, she yelled at him.

  “Put me down or turn me around, I want to see!”

  Spinning, she squeaked when she felt like he’d drop her, but his hold was steady. Conner and Ronan were locked together, arms twisting, pulling, squeezing and fighting for dominance as they rolled around in the snow, ice, and mud. They weren’t punching each other so much as they were wrestling. This wasn’t about one beating the other unconscious, but resembled two kids fighting in the schoolyard.

  The tension she hadn’t known was with her released, but it was quickly replaced with agitation. Stupid men! Worrying her, making her fret and contemplate running because they wanted to wrestle like animals. Max had been right. It was a great big pissing contest.

  She poked Max in the side as she issued her orders.

  “Take two steps back and move left.” She waited while he moved as she directed. “No, no, your other left. Perfect.”

  Her goal was within arm’s reach. Gillian scooped a handful of snow off the railing and formed it into a small ball, compacting the snow as tightly as she could. It needed to both sting and stun the men she had her sights on.

  Thanking her brother for being into baseball and needing someone to throw with, she let the first ball fly. It hit Ronan in the shoulder, drawing his attention away from Conner, which resulted in him being laid out by his brother. She heard Ronan yelling, but was focused on gathering another clump of snow and forming the perfect ball to really pay attention. Conner distracted him again, so she supposed it didn’t matter. Taking aim, she let her second snowball fly and got Conner in the back of the head. Max had remained perfectly still through her two lobs, but was now on the move and striding across the porch.

  “Max! What are you doing, I’m not done!”

  “But they are, Gilly, and they’re ready to turn their attentions to us.”

  Glancing back at Conner and Ronan, she realized that Max was right. They had both jumped up and were stomping toward the porch. Smacking Max on the ass, she urged him to move.

  “Run, Max, they’re coming!” Giggles fought with the twinge of fear over what would hap
pen when the two hulking men caught them.

  Max made it through the front door before his brothers caught them and plopped her down on the couch in the living room and stood between her and his brothers.

  “Move it, Max,” Conner and Ronan barked.

  “Okay.” He held his hands up and moved out of their way.

  So much for my valiant protector.

  “Uh, guys. It was a joke. I got mad at you for fighting and…”

  They were on her in a second. Tickling every inch of her body they could get their hands on. Growling when they got a good spot and her laughter filled the room, smearing mud and melted snow all over her. By the time she cried “uncle”, she was soaked and covered in mud from head to toe, as was the couch and a good part of the floor.

  Gasping for air, she sat on the couch between the two men. Remembering why she’d gone outside with Max in the first place, she smacked both of their thighs.

  “You idiots! You scared me half to death! One minute I thought you were going to break down the door and the next I thought you were going to kill each other. Don’t you ever do that again—at least, not during my visit.”

  The three brothers shared a look before Ronan spoke. “Sorry, Gillian. We’ve been together, just the three of us, for a long time and tend to settle disagreements with fists.” She’d turned her attention to him the moment he began speaking and she leaned into his touch when he cupped her cheek. It seemed so natural and reminded her of the kiss they’d shared the night before. She didn’t jump or pull back when his lips brushed hers.

  A warm hand encircled her wrist and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Max crouched before her. He pressed a tender kiss to the palm of her right hand and when another set of lips kissed the palm of her left…it felt right.

  Chapter Six

  Two hours, four showers, two eggs, bacon, toast, and a coffee later, Gillian didn’t know what to do with herself. She watched as Conner and Ronan bumped down the driveway and out of sight in their four-wheel drive pick-up truck, complete with towing wench. They’d promised that their trip out would result in warm clothes for her and the return of her car, one way or another.

  She prayed that the "one way" they hinted at was not that her car would be towed behind their truck. Because that would mean that the hunk of metal wouldn’t start. It was just something she wasn’t ready to consider yet. Being in their cabin, surrounded by their presence was all right short-term.

  When their lips touched her body, all at the same time, she’d felt a zing of awareness shoot through her. It skittered along her nerves, just beneath the skin and materialized as a foreign awareness in her mind. Almost as if she could… No. That wasn’t possible.

  The novelty of having three identical men giving her three nearly identical looks and kisses was toying with her mind. Better to nip those thoughts in the bud now. No sense in imagining or interpreting their attentions for anything other than simple old-world chivalry. Nothing more.

  Okay, maybe Ronan’s kiss was more. The quiet, brooding type didn’t usually catch her attention, but maybe things were changing. For the better, she hoped. With Ronan’s apparent claim by capturing her lips when he apologized, Gillian wondered how he’d react to the knowledge that his brothers had kissed her palms. Would he be jealous? Would Ronan hand out a few bruises to Conner and Max as soon as they were alone? She hoped not. More than anything, she didn’t want violence or dissention to arise from her attraction to Ronan.

  Who was she kidding, she was attracted to all of them. They should bring a tattoo artist back with them and have “Hopeless Slut” tattooed to her forehead. At least then people would know what type of person they were talking to. The type that would wander into a home, fall asleep in someone’s bed, wake to three gorgeous men staring at her, and after a series of events that made her head spin just thinking about, fantasize about all three of them—separately, and together. S. L. U. T.

  “Whatcha thinking about over there? So serious.”

  Heat suffused her face, but she ignored it.

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “Uh huh.”

  Flopping onto the center of the couch right next to her, he pulled her feet into his lap before she could utter a protest. Not that she would protest…well, maybe a token protest, but she would’ve given in, which made the attempt at a protest pointless. So she didn’t.

  Max clicked the TV on, but lowered the volume before tossing the remote onto the coffee table. He must have seen her confused look because he answered her unvoiced question.

  “Background noise. Can’t stand a quiet house.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, Miss Gillian No-last-name, tell me about yourself.”

  “Maybe I’m an axe-murderer out to get you.”

  She’d play coy and joke her way through this. Thinking and speaking of the truth just hurt.

  Max’s hand encircled her wrist and slid up her arm, past her elbow to her bicep. He squeezed for a fraction of a second before opening his hand and nudging the side of her breast and then squeezing again. She gasped and jerked against his hold, but didn’t push him away. The surreptitious touch felt too good, sending tingles of arousal through her body. Gillian’s nipples tightened in response, pushing against the cotton t-shirt she’d borrowed from Conner.

  “No offense, Gilly, but you haven’t got the muscles for it.” He opened and closed his hand again, fingers brushing the sensitive skin through cloth before sliding his hand back to her wrist, his eyes locked on her the whole time. “How about your last name?”

  Did he see the truth in her eyes? That she was as aroused by his touch as she was by Ronan’s kisses.

  “Locke.” Had her voice dropped a few decibels?

  “Miss Gillian Locke. Nice to meet you.”

  Max flashed a smile, but the teasing glint in his eyes had yet to leave. He was up to something.

  His hand left her wrist and settled on the top of her thigh while the other stroked the calf on her other leg. She was wearing yet another pair of pajama bottoms donated by one of the brothers, so she was clothed, but for some reason she felt nearly naked under his gaze.

  He traced tiny circles with his fingertips on top of the cloth, sometimes tracing the printed pattern for a while before returning to the miniscule circles. Was it getting hot in the cabin? Maybe they should put out the fire. Her eyes darted to the fireplace and noticed it was dark. Damn, no fire. Max’s hand burrowed through the extra inches of fabric at the hem of the pants and felt their way up her pant leg.

  The sensations of his skin on hers brought those feeling she’d been trying to ignore back. It was almost as if she could feel him feeling her. But that didn’t make sense.

  Swallowing hard, she forced words past her lips, words she didn’t really mean, but thought she should voice.

  “What are you doing? You shouldn’t…”

  “Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t do this?” His hand beneath her pants rose higher, stroking every inch of skin he could. “Or this?” Max spread the fingers of the hand on her thigh, his thumb coming dangerously close to where she ached to be touched the most.

  All she could do was moan.

  S. L. U. T.

  “Max, you don’t understand. I don’t want to get between you three and last night…”

  “You kissed my brother.”

  She shot straight up.

  “Exactly. Which is why your hands should stop…you know.”

  “Making you feel good? I can see your pulse in your neck, hear your breathing—you’re enjoying this a little bit, Gilly. Don’t deny it.”

  Oh, she wouldn’t deny it, but she couldn’t let him continue. She didn’t owe Ronan anything, but making out with his brother didn’t exactly feel right.

  “I’m not going to deny it, but Max…”

  “We share a special bond, Gillian. To find a woman we are all attracted to has been a lifelong dream of ours. Ronan won’t be jealous or angry if I make you feel good.” His hand on her th
igh dipped lower, closer to her heat and he tightened his grip. One inch higher and he’d… “Let me make you feel good, Gillian.”

  She didn’t say no, but she didn’t say yes either. She whimpered. An honest-to-God whimper formed in her throat and emanated from behind her closed lips.

  Max must have taken the noise for a yes. His body shifted and moved as he repositioned her legs to his choosing. Now she lay back on the couch, her legs on either side of his hips as he sat himself between them. A hungry, feral look passed over his face before he smiled. Her heart sped up, but quickly calmed when she saw his smile, his laid-back look instantly putting her at ease. Of course, that quickly ended when he ripped the crotch of her pajama bottoms right out, exposing the juncture of her thighs to the cool cabin air.

  “Max!”

  “Okay. Okay. Sorry. Just a little impatient.” His hands grasped her upper thighs, thumbs rubbing along the skin where her leg and pelvis met. That sensitive area that only seemed to come alive under a man’s touch tingled with every swipe of his thumb. “Better?”

  What? Did he say something? Gillian wasn’t sure. She was too busy enjoying what Max was doing with his hands. No man had ever touched her so intimately without rushing and with only regard to her enjoyment. This was…nice.

  “Gillian?”

  “Hmm?”

  Her eyes drifted close as his hands stroked her body. She felt him shift and move, but the gentle assault of his fingers continued so she didn’t bother opening her eyes. It felt so damn good. Her clit tingled and ached as it filled with blood. Her core clenched as his fingers shifted to her nether lips, and along the outer edge of her slit.

  Gillian widened her legs, dropping one foot to the floor, she pressed her other knee into the cushions lining the back of the couch. Max’s chuckle reached her ears as his breath feathered across her skin. Eyes flying open, she looked down her body into Max’s. Her body tensed and she moved to close her thighs, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Max?”