by Celia Kyle
Her question must have stolen the wind from his sails. He pulled her off his shoulder, seating her on the kitchen table.
“He’s still pretty riled, Gilly, you sure you want to go see him now? You can wait till he’s calmed down…”
“Nope. Ronan, you got me some new clothes in town, right?”
“Yeah,” he grumbled. He didn’t seem to like her idea any better than Max. Too bad.
“Well, give me my new clothes and point me in the right direction.”
“You sure about this, Gilly?”
“Yes, I’m sure. If he’s not mad at me and only upset because we haven’t spent time alone together, well, this is his chance to say so and get some.” Lord, did she just say that? “TIME! It’s his chance to get some time.”
Chapter Eight
Dressed in her new jeans, layered flannel shirts, jacket and boots, Gillian set off into the snow-covered wilderness, leaving two very unhappy men behind. They’d pointed her in the right direction, mumbling about being careful and to stay on the path, the whole time looking like little kids who’d had their candy stolen. Tough, it was high time she made decisions for herself and got used to confrontation. It seemed her life with these three men would be full of it.
The thought made her stop dead in her tracks and lean against a tree. Had her thoughts really wandered there? Was she considering staying with the three brothers? No. Good, moral women didn’t do things like live and love three men. Love? No, it wasn’t love either. Affection, maybe. Like, and a connection, sure. But love? Nope, it was too soon to be love.
She wasn’t trudging through the snow, opening her body up to new aches and pains for love. She wanted to make sure Conner wasn’t mad and was okay. And maybe spend some time with him alone to see if they had a connection like she did with Ronan and Max. Damn. She really must have a "slut" tattoo somewhere on her body.
Gillian pushed away from the tree, continuing her journey to God only knew where. They’d told her it was a few hundred yards away, but she felt like she’d walked that far and a few thousand more. Oh well. One foot in front of the other—she’d done it before—she trudged through the snow-filled mud. At least this time, her body wasn’t wracked with shivers and shooting pains as she walked. The clothes Conner and Ronan had purchased kept her body relatively warm and comfortable, even in the freezing temperatures.
Eyes glued to the ground, searching for the trail the brothers had convinced her could easily be seen, she ran straight into a tree, bumping her head on the trunk. The collision knocked her flat on her ass. She landed with a grunt.
So much for following the path.
She wiped the snow and bark debris from her hair, her fingers came away smeared in blood. Now they’d never let her out of the house by herself. After a few minutes, the bleeding seemed to stop and she hoisted her body from the ground. Ass soaked from sitting in the snow, she looked around, trying to find the trail. She couldn’t see the “unmissable” trail, but could hear the gurgle of water in the distance. Hoping the sound came from the river the brothers had said Conner liked to sit near, she took off at a slow plod toward the noise.
Coming through the trees, she found Conner just where Ronan and Max said he would be—sitting on a twenty-foot high natural outcropping of rocks along the river’s edge, staring into the water. The sound of the water muffled her approach, and he didn’t turn to look at her until she’d nearly crawled onto the mound next to him. When he did notice her, he acted as if the world was coming to an end.
“Gillian! God! Are you okay?”
He jumped to his feet in one fluid movement and pulled her into his arms. The Bearclaw brothers sure did seem to have a thing with holding her. He lowered the two of them to the cold stone, cradling her weight in his lap. As soon as he’d settled her, he tugged off a glove and his cool fingers stroked the hair out of her eyes. She leaned into the touch, craving the feel of his skin against hers.
“Are you okay, Gillian? What happened, poppet?”
She sighed and let her eyes close as she snuggled closer to his warmth. She really did like his nickname for her.
“Nothing. Well, a tree sort of happened, but it doesn’t matter. I wanted to come looking for you. I heard you three arguing, and I told Ronan and Max I wanted to leave…”
“You’re not leaving.”
His arms tightened around her. Smiling she looked into a pair of eyes which seemed so like Ronan and Max’s, but different just the same.
“No, I’m not. At least, I’m not if I’m satisfied with our conversation.”
Conner stiffened beneath her, it felt like she now sat on a wooden board instead of Conner’s fleshy lap, but she snuggled closer, ignoring the tension humming through him. Good, let him be the one on edge for once.
“What do you want to know? What can I say to make you want to stay?”
“The truth. Nothing more than the truth.”
“You might not like the truth, and then you’ll leave.”
She gazed at him and ran a finger down his cheek. His stubble scratched her skin and causing goose bumps to rise along her arm.
“Would you want to keep me with a lie?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then trust me the way I’ve trusted the three of you for the past two days. Can you give me your trust, Conner?”
Instead of answering, he lowered his head to hers, brushing his lips in a soft sweet caress of skin against skin. His weather-cold lips warmed with each kiss. Infused with daring, she snaked her tongue out to slide along the seam of his lips, savoring his flavor as she begged for entrance. Conner obliged, spreading his heated lips he gave her free reign to explore the moist cavern of his mouth.
Gillian surged closer to Conner and slid her arms around his neck, tugging his chest to press against hers. More. She needed more. Sliding her hands beneath his jacket, she clutched his back ran her fingers over the taut, flannel-covered muscles.
Her tongue devoured Conner’s mouth, licking and tasting his very essence; a mixture of hickory smoke and earth, musky and strong, like him. He moaned against her lips as she sucked his tongue, showing him others things she could do with her mouth, her lips. She made sweeping, swirling motions in his mouth, teasing and dancing as they both fought for dominance. Each time she won, and she arched closer, pressed harder, demanding more.
Sliding her hands to his chest, she kneaded the tightened muscles, felt the tense jerks each time she sucked hard, and the delicate release of muscle as she released the suction. His cock, hard and thick seemed to reach for her body through the confines of his jeans and she did what she never thought she’d do.
She skimmed Conner’s abdomen, stroking toward her destination. Her fingertips brushed the button of his jeans, the ice cold metal a stark contrast to the heat they had created. With one quick flick, the button was undone. A swift tug on the zipper and her fingers brushed the soft cotton of his underwear. Did he wear boxers or briefs? She’d soon know.
Tearing her mouth from his, their gazes met, a question visible in Conner’s eyes.
“Let me.” She breathed against his lips. A plea. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, his shaft in her mouth. “Please.”
Gillian wormed her hand into Conner’s jeans, ignoring the tight squeeze, craving only to feel him in her hand, his arousal for her. He gasped against her mouth, his eyes squeezed shut when she managed to grasp his erection, her fingers not quite managing to envelope him fully. Long and thick, mmm.
“Questions.” He moaned against her mouth just after she squeezed him. “You.” Pant. “Had questions.”
Gillian pulled back, flicking her tongue along his lower lip, teasing him. She didn’t relinquish her hold on his cock, but gave him a bit of breathing room. Rubbing the tip of her nose against his, she whispered against his lips, anxious for his answers as she had plans for the cock in her hand. Never before had she ever felt so empowered, so free to do as she pleased. These three men wrenched those feelings
out by showering her with freedom and caring.
“Were you angry for what I did with Max? Or Ronan? They said you were jealous, but not angry. Which was it?”
Conner closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers, and took a deep breath. “You want to talk about that now? Here? With your hand…”
Gillian tightened said hand and nodded. “Yes, here, now. Talk fast, make it good and I promise to make you a happy man.”
Wow! Where had all this bravado and sexual aggression come from? Before meeting the three brothers’ she’d been withdrawn, and always turned inward during sex, of any kind. Sex with Kyle had been when… No. She wouldn’t think about that. Wouldn’t think about the stench of alcohol on his breath, or what always managed to follow their “lovemaking”. Not when she had another man’s cock in her hand.
He moaned and sucked in a harsh breath, she slid her hand further into his pants, searching for his balls. “Both. Oh God, Gilly. Stop. Wait, don’t stop.” Her fingers found the tender skin where the skin of his shaft stretched lower and transformed to his sensitive scrotum.
“Both?” she queried, anxious to hear his explanation and get her lips around him. Scratching his skin through the fabric of his boxers, or maybe briefs, she waited for her answer.
“Both.” His breath came in harsh pants, the sound warring with that of the river below. “Jealous. Wanted to be with you.” Conner swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple dancing along his throat. “Angry. Thought they took…” She tightened her grip, and taking advantage of the space she’d fought for in his pants, stroked him from balls to tip and back again. “Advantage.” The word came out on a sigh, his breath fanning softly across the skin of her cheek.
So sweet, her Conner. So sweet and caring he’d nearly screamed the house down twice when he thought his brothers had taken advantage of her. First, when they’d just awoken, and again when he’d arrived home. While he had gotten angry unnecessarily both times, her heart melted for the man she held so near.
“They didn’t take advantage, Conner.”
He closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against hers. “No?”
“No.”
Reaching the top of his underwear, she prayed her hand had warmed while buried within Conner’s jeans. Slipping her fingers beneath the waistband, the feeling of silken steel against her palm sent a shiver through her body and Conner jerked in response.
Legs widening beneath her let Gillian slide to the ground beneath Conner’s thighs, getting comfortable for what she had planned. Sitting on her heels, hand still buried and tight around his cock, she milked him softly as she tugged at his jeans and made more room.
“Gilly…”
“Mine, Conner. Save the protests for later.”
Pulling the cotton fabric of his underwear down, she exposed his erection to the harsh winter winds.
“Fuck! It’s cold!” he yelled, but didn’t move to stop her. Obviously couldn’t be too cold, Gillian thought with a secret smile.
The cinnamon-toned, mushroom-shaped head of his cock leaked droplets of pre-come that begged her mouth to taste. Leaning forward, she flicked the salty sweet fluid from his slit, rolling the bit of his essence around in her mouth. Going back for a second taste, she sucked the tip of his shaft into her mouth, running her tongue along the crown as she familiarized herself with his body.
His hand sifted through her curls, brushing them away so he could cup her cheek. Gillian froze under his caress. Her heart pounded as she waited for his next move, what his demand would be. Would he wrap his hand in her hair, forcing his cock down her throat? She waited for the tension, the pressure as he “guided” her to do his bidding, but it never came. His touch remained gentle and feather-light as she ventured to take more of him, never demanding she rush.
Willing her heart to calm, she inhaled a deep breath of the frost-laden air, begging her wayward thoughts to cease. Conner wasn’t Kyle. Period. She needed to remember the distinction.
Widening her mouth, she slid further down Conner’s pulsing shaft, slicking him with her saliva as she endeavored to take him fully. His moan of appreciation could be felt through her body; nothing existed for her but him at the moment, him and his cock. Tapping her tongue along his erection, she raised and lowered her head, riding his cock with her mouth, doing her best to grant him pleasure. His hand remained light, cupping her face, his thumb drawing circles on her cheekbone as she sucked him. She moaned around his cock and her pussy grew damp with each flick, lick, and suck she gave.
Conner’s hips thrust his cock further into her mouth, and she swallowed convulsively around him as the head nudged the back of her throat. She wanted it all, wanted him all. The wind whipped and whirled around them, sprinkling snow over their bodies, but her thoughts and actions were focused on giving him pleasure.
Resting her hands on his hips, she inhaled, savoring the musky scent of arousal and sex emanating from Conner, and unable to help herself, moaned again. Increasing her suction, she milked his cock with her mouth, begging…no, demanding from him his release. In her mind she imagined him filling her mouth with the salty-sweet tang of his very essence, and she craved it; wanted to swallow every drop he’d give.
Her mouth stroked his staff as she teased and tempted his orgasm from him. She had a feeling he’d come soon—his moans came more frequently, as did his gasps. Gillian upped her tempo, sliding her lips and tongue over his saliva-slicked shaft, doing all she could to coax his warm seed to be released.
She sought out every vein and ridge of his erection, flicking over and over the places she found to be most tender and cause the greatest reaction. If he sucked in a breath, she flicked. If he groaned, she licked. And if he swore her name, she sucked the spot, aching to hear him scream again.
Her ministrations were soon rewarded, the combination of licking, flicking and sucking pushing him over the edge. His body tightened beneath her hands, hips jerking as he roared her name, his cock pulsing to life within the deep recesses of her mouth. Searing hot seed burst from the tip of his cock, filling her mouth as she’d hoped. The salty, musky taste of Conner’s very essence seeped into her, sliding down her throat as she swallowed around him, savoring every drop her gifted her.
Releasing Conner’s deflating shaft with a soft pop, she slid his underwear back in place before folding the flaps of his jeans over him, placing a soft kiss on the material.
Sitting back on her heels, more than satisfied with her performance, she accepted Conner’s soft, sweet kisses he rained on her face, neck and lips. Pressing his face to her neck, sliding her fingers through his midnight locks, she wasn’t expecting a large, dark moving object near the tree line to catch her eye. As it trudged through the falling snow, her interest piqued and she kept her eyes trained on the object. It slowly came into focus as it stepped out of the shadows and into the clearing. Gillian’s heart froze and breath caught—a bear.
Chapter Nine
The trudge from her and Conner’s “mountain” back to the cabin took longer than Gillian would have liked. True to form, Conner wouldn’t let her walk and insisted on carrying her the entire way. He didn’t seem concerned by the bear’s appearance and had only increased his pace at her urging. While Gillian trusted Conner to know how to get back to the cabin, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of the great big bear following them, waiting for its chance to pounce. Convinced the animal lurked in the shadows and behind every tree, her heart didn’t calm until Conner placed her on the cabin’s back porch.
When the back door opened, revealing Max, she dashed past him into the house, anxious to wrap herself in the protection the cabin offered.
“Shut the door, Max! There’s a bear!”
He seemed as unconcerned as Conner, closing the door with a soft click as he stared at her, brow furrowed. “A bear?”
“Where’s Ronan?” Conner looked around the room, causing Gillian to do the same.
“Um, out?” Max replied, not looking at either of them, but finding
something on the floor very interesting.
Oh, God. Ronan had gone outside…with the bear!
“Do you two have guns? You should go get guns and save Ronan from the bear.” When neither of the men moved, she urged them further. “Go! Ronan’s your brother and he’s in trouble and…”
“Oh. Who’s in trouble dear?” A short, rotund woman with cinnamon skin and deep black hair stepped from the kitchen, dishcloth in hand. “Are you boys scaring this dear child?”
Conner’s exclamation of “Mom!” was drowned out by Max’s reassurance of “No, Mom”. Mom. Good Lord, now she was meeting their mother. The slut-of-the-universe in the same room as the mother of the men who’d turned her into said slut. Lord, strike her down now and make it quick.
Shocked speechless, she let Conner mumble introductions. When their mother, who she now knew as Ethel, embraced her, she distractedly patted the woman’s back as she shot panicked looks at Conner and Max of her shoulder. Couldn’t they do something? Why had they not told her their mother was coming to visit? Not that she truly had any place with them other than a woman who liked to give and receive oral sex, but…damn it! Somebody should have said something!
Clearing his throat, Conner spoke up after introductions had been made. “Um, Mom, this is a surprise.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, reminding her of a small child who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t. “You didn’t call or anything. What brings you here? I assume you brought Dad?”
Ethel, with one arm slung around Gillian’s waist, turned back toward the kitchen, dragging her along. “I had a dream that my boys needed me, so here I am. Why don’t you two leave us ladies to dinner and go help Father and Dad with Gillian’s car? I heard Father cursing up a storm, and I could hear Dad laughing like a damned hyena.”
Gillian gave Conner and Max a pleading look, but both men shrugged their shoulders as if powerless against the vibrant storm that was Ethel.
At least Max tried. “Um, Mom, we can introduce Gilly to…”
