Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Kristin Coley

  “No!” Ian grasped my waist, startling me back to the present, as his touch sent sparks through me. He dropped his head onto my lap, and I found myself burying my fingers into his hair. “I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t mean to disappear on you this evening.” He rubbed his head back and forth against my legs, as I stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, still confused by he thought I’d leave if he wasn’t sending me away.

  “Why would you think I’d leave?” I asked, as he lifted his head, his face a mix of regret and sorrow.

  “Because I was rude. I abandoned you. I was needlessly cruel. Need I go on?” he answered, his expression resolute as he anticipated my exit from his life, and I wondered how many had done just that.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked instead, curious at what had prompted his behavior. Michael had seemed to anticipate something of this nature happening, but it was strange to me. It was as if something had triggered his behavior after he’d left.

  He shook his head, and I glimpsed agony in his eyes before he shuttered them.

  “The past is a wicked woman,” he finally muttered, swaying, and his hands tightened around my waist. He seemed to realize how tight he was holding me and removed his hands. “Some wounds hurt too much. Their pain cannot be put into words.” His eyes begged me for absolution, forgiveness from the demons inside of him, and I suddenly understood Michael’s warnings. I swallowed, blinking back tears of my own as I stared at his hopeless expression.

  “I’m upset you did it, but Ian, you had Buster check on me. You came in here to apologize.” I cupped his cheeks in my hand, his golden stubble rough on my palms. “I don’t give up on people because they make a mistake. I don’t walk away. If you give me your word this won’t happen again, then we’ll put this behind us.”

  “You have my word,” he promised instantly, sincerity ringing through his words. I ran my thumbs against his cheeks, curious as to who had hurt him so deeply the wound still bled. Whoever it was still had power over him, and whatever had happened tonight was because of it. He closed his eyes, turning his face into my palm, and I felt his lips press against the fleshy pad under my thumb. I shivered and drew back, pulling my hand from his face slowly.

  “Okay.” The word sounded shaky and a little breathless, and I cleared my throat as the intimacy of our circumstances occurred to me. I tucked my legs back under the blanket, arming myself against the desire to pull him toward me. It was a dangerous thought, especially after his brother’s soul searing kiss, and I shivered at the desire thrumming thorough me. My own body so easily betrayed me with both of the brothers and Buster, and I questioned if I had the strength to resist any of them, or the will to even want to.

  Ian stood, catching himself on the nightstand as he stumbled. He stared down at me, hunger in his eyes, and once again I felt like a mouse poised in front of a cat. I wondered if he would pounce on me like his brother had, and ignored the naughty hope that he would. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before reaching for the light switch on the lamp.

  “Michael was right about one thing. You are better than we deserve,” he sighed, clicking the light off. I’d caught only a glimpse of his expression before the light went off, but it caused my heart to jump painfully. He’d looked like a lost boy, one rejected and left to despair. He moved toward the door, and the words escaped me before I thought.

  “Wait, Ian.” He paused, half turning, his posture tense in the dim light from the window. “Perhaps you could hold my hand?”

  He gave a jerky nod and walked back to the bed, pausing on the other side to yank off his shoes. The light was too low to see any details of his face, but he lay down next to me on top of the covers, and reached for my hand. Our fingers intertwined, and I let out the breath I hadn’t know I was holding.

  “Sleep, lovely Jane, morning will come soon enough.” He began humming then, the sound a lullaby soothing me back to sleep.

  The next morning, I woke alone, sunlight streaming brightly in through the window. I stretched. The events from the night before ran through my mind like the remnants of a bad dream. I padded to the door and opened it in time to see Michael pouring a green concoction into a glass for Ian.

  Ian’s eyes were bloodshot and his face was paler than normal, but he still sent me an impish grin.

  “Sleeping Beauty awakes!” He winced slightly at the loudness of his own voice, and I grinned.

  “Drink up, brother.” Michael gave me a conspirator’s wink. “It is the foulest thing I could conjure on short notice.”

  Ian’s mouth pinched, but he nodded, drinking it down in a few short gulps.

  “There’s a good lad.” Michael nodded approvingly before smiling at me.

  “Do I want to know what was in that?” I asked, carefully taking in both of their expressions. They seemed back to normal, the night before forgiven and on the way to forgotten, as Michael removed the glass.

  “Probably not,” Ian answered with a shudder. “At least, I have no desire to know what I just swallowed.”

  Michael tilted his head in agreement with Ian’s statement, and I sat down at the table.

  “What time is your call with your parents?” Michael asked casually as he took a seat across from me.

  “Ten,” I replied, glancing at the clock. The way the light was shining in, I was afraid I’d missed our call time, but the clock showed it was only nine.

  “I thought we’d go out for lunch after and then to Café du Monde. I have yet to try the beignets and figure you would appreciate watching me.”

  I grinned happily. “That sounds awesome! You’ll love them, Michael.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he replied, smiling indulgently. “Breakfast?”

  “Yes! I’m starving.”

  “None for me, I’m afraid my stomach can’t tolerate food at the moment.”

  “I don’t recall asking you, Ian,” Michael said with a small smile.

  “Of course not. You are the creator of the atrocious hangover antidote. You must be well aware of how my stomach churns.”

  “Perhaps,” Michael said, hiding a knowing smile behind his teacup. I shook my head, still caught off guard by the sight of a grown man drinking tea out of a teacup. Ian poured a glass of orange juice for me and shoved the breakfast tray toward me with a groan.

  “Go ahead, love, torture me with your breakfast.” I smiled as I removed the lid with a flourish and saw his face blanch at the smell.

  “Gladly.” My laugh may have been a tad wicked, but maybe he’d remember not to overindulge next time. I didn’t have the slightest bit of guilt as I enjoyed the over easy eggs and bacon either.

  An hour later the ringing phone interrupted our conversation, and they stepped away to give me privacy as I swiped the screen to open the video call. The sight of my parents sent a sharp pang of homesickness through me. We’d never been so far apart for so long, and knowing it would be an entire year before I saw them again hit me hard.

  “Mom, Dad,” I choked up as I said it and Mom blinked back tears of her own.

  “Baby girl, I miss you. I wish I could hug you through this phone!” Mom cried, as she smiled at me with sad eyes. Dad waved, the emotion on his face betraying him, as he attempted to speak.

  “How are you?” The question was expected, but as I answered him, I realized how much I meant what I was saying.

  “I’m great! I miss you, but I’m happy.” I nodded, keeping my focus on them least my eyes slip to the source of my newfound happiness. “How’s the mission trip?”

  “Oh, it’s wonderful,” Mom gushed, and I noticed a slight sunburn on her face. “The people here are so welcoming and appreciative. We can do so much good.”

  “It is far out, though. It’s hard to get to a town with good enough reception to call. We were afraid we were going to miss the time we arranged,” Dad interrupted, his face edging into the camera range.

  “I’m glad you made it,” I answered, as I drank in the sight of them. They’d made mistakes, and it c
ould have gone very badly for me, but they meant well. My eyes flickered to Ian for a second, and the memory of his pain at his parent’s rejection made me grateful for my own parent’s unconditional love.

  “Us too,” Dad replied, and Mom nodded vigorously behind him. “We’ll probably have to switch it to every two weeks, though. There’s no way we’ll make it back every week.”

  I nodded, even though the thought was painful. Seeing them reminded me how much I missed them. They had been by my side my entire life, and this forced separation was painful. Part of me had known it would come when I left for college, but I’d always expected to be able to go home on the weekends and hug my mom, eat her famous pot roast, and watch Dad at the pulpit. Those things were impossible for at least the next year, and as I met Michael and Ian’s sympathetic expression, I had a feeling it would be longer than a year.

  “Everything going well there?” Dad’s question drew my attention, and I told him a variation of the truth I’d decided on.

  “Actually, no.” His forehead wrinkled, and Mom looked concerned. “The people I was supposed to stay with were arrested,” I told them baldly, figuring the truth was like a band-aid, better to rip it off fast than linger over it.

  “What!” Dad’s voice roared and his face turned tomato red so fast I was concerned. Mom gasped and patted his shoulder. I decided to keep going, seeing as how the next part was not quite the truth. I had debated my decision to lie to them, but in the end, I decided it was best for everyone involved.

  “I found out when the plane landed.” I waved my hand dismissively. “It was a shock, but I’m fine. Luckily, I met a wonderful family on the flight here. They’re British!” My attempt to be upbeat seemed to work on my mom as she gave me a sickly smile. Dad … not so much.

  “A British family?” Mom questioned when no one spoke. I nodded, keeping an eye on the time. Dad limited the calls to ten minutes because of the cost, and I was using it to my advantage.

  “Yes, and they needed a babysitter for the summer while they stayed in New Orleans. It was obviously God’s hand at work.” I gave them my most angelic look and saw Ian smirk out of the corner of my eye. Dad’s mouth opened and closed at this idea, but he couldn’t argue my words. “I know we don’t have much time, and I want you to meet my employer. They are so kind, providing housing and a small stipend for the summer until school starts.” I smiled, taking in their faces, since I knew it would be a while before I saw them again. “I love you both very much. Stay safe and know I’m fine.” I pressed a kiss to my fingers and back toward them. Mom blinked and nodded, and Dad’s lips parted, but I waved Michael over before Dad could comment. It was hard enough without saying goodbye.

  Michael moved into the camera’s view armed with his most charming smile. His custom business suit immediately eased my father’s mind, I noticed, as I slipped out of view. Ian pulled me into a hug the second I came close, and I buried my head into his shoulder, listening to Michael soothe my parents’ concern. He skirted around the half-truths beautifully, even with my lack of warning. A minute later, they ended the call, and Michael gave me a cautious smile.

  “They seem like lovely people.”

  I nodded my head against Ian. “They are.” He rubbed my back gently, and I wanted to curl up and cry. His kindness, combined with my homesickness, left me feeling like a lost puppy. Michael’s gaze flickered to meet Ian’s, and the weight of their unspoken conversation pressed down on me.

  “The best way to get over an upset is distraction!” Ian declared, rubbing my arms briskly and setting me away from him. He narrowed his eyes at me before giving me a brilliant smile. “And I know just the ticket.”

  I raised my eyebrow, as I tugged my hair over my shoulder and began braiding it. Michael tucked his hands into his pockets and gave him an inquiring glance. “Do tell.”

  “The Garden District. Jane expressed an interest in exploring the old homes there. I think it’s the perfect distraction, and after we’ll watch Michael eat those beignets. How does that sound?”

  I nodded shyly and then more enthusiastically as I saw Michael’s face.

  “These beignets better be good for all the fuss.”

  “They are,” I answered brightly, my mood rebounding as I thought about peeking at the magnificent old homes. “But Michael wanted to see the cemeteries.” I remembered suddenly. “We can do that instead, since you work so often.”

  “Your consideration is greatly appreciated, but the Garden District is fine with me.”

  “Luckily for you both I read up on it, and there is a cemetery right next to the Garden District. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.” Ian smiled at his own cleverness as I tugged on my shoes.

  “Well, that’s settled then.” Michael studied our attire and his nose twitched, but all he said was, “Are you ready to go then?”

  “Yes!” I declared, bouncing to my feet. “Wait! Where’s Buster?”

  “I believe he’s still asleep. He was up rather late with Ian,” Michael mentioned, trading a glance with Ian, who had the grace to flush.

  “Do you think he’d like to come?” I asked cautiously, uncertain how they’d take me inviting him. I didn’t want to examine my own eagerness at the idea of him joining us, but bounced lightly on my toes as I waited for their answer.

  “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

  “Especially if you were the one asking,” Ian added with an impish grin. “I know I could never deny that gorgeous face.”

  Michael gestured to a closed door, the only one I’d yet to go in besides Michael’s. “Go on,” Michael encouraged. “He doesn’t bite,” he grinned and added, “At least not us.”

  I threw Michael a surprised glance and noticed Ian do the same. Was that an innuendo from Michael? I shook my head, deciding not to mention rule number 3 after Michael’s comment about breaking rules.

  I knocked gently on the door, but there was no answer so I turned away, but Ian waved me back.

  “He’s a sound sleeper, love. Just go in there and shake him.” Ian crossed his arms and leaned back against the table. “I’d do it myself but he’s liable to come up swinging if he sees my face at his bedside.”

  Michael’s phone started to ring and he glanced down at it with a frown. “I have to take this. We’ll meet downstairs.” He gestured for Ian to follow him, and after a quick glance at me, he did. I watched the elevator doors close behind them and then steeled myself to go in Buster’s room. When another louder knock didn’t garner a response, I slowly turned the doorknob, peeking inside the dimly lit room. He’d remembered to close his curtains so the only light came from the doorway where I currently stood.

  “Buster?” I called quietly, edging forward when there was no response. “Buster,” I said again, wincing when the sound echoed, louder than I’d anticipated.

  There was a grunt from the bed and I waited for a second, but there was no other sound or movement.

  “I’m really going to have to shake him,” I muttered under my breath, my heart beating a little harder than normal as I inched closer to the bed.

  “Buster,” I said when I’d gotten close enough to see him sprawled across the king size bed and taking up more of it than I thought possible. He also wasn’t wearing a shirt, and after a quick glimpse at where the sheet pooled low on his hips, there was a distinct possibility he wasn’t wearing pants either.

  “You can do this,” I whispered encouragingly, my hand hovering over the broad expanse of bare skin in front of me, uncertain where to touch to shake him awake as Ian had suggested. “Just do it,” I exclaimed, fed up with my own shyness.

  I brought my hand down on his shoulder, and the first thing I noticed was how hot his skin was and the second was how quickly he reacted to my touch.

  “Omph,” I grunted as I found myself pinned underneath his weight, his body settled firmly over mine. I tried to ignore his bare skin and the realization that he wasn’t wearing pants or underwear. His head settled into the curve of my neck, nuzz
ling me as one of his hands slide up my leg and under the skirt I was wearing.

  “Buster,” I squeaked and quickly cleared my throat as his thumb stroked the inside of my thigh. “Buster,” I said more loudly.

  “Mmmm, you smell good, lassie,” he murmured, his lips skimming my neck.

  “Buster! It’s Jane,” I said a little more desperately, bracing my hands against his waist and pushing, not that it did me any good. He wasn’t easy to budge.

  He paused, his mouth a hairsbreadth from mine, “Jane?”

  I gave a strangled acknowledgement, trying not to move my mouth for fear I would accidentally find myself kissing him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, obviously not as concerned about the proximity of our mouths.

  “Waking you up,” I answered, barely moving my lips.

  “Why?”

  “To see if you wanted to come with us today,” I replied, trying to find another place for my hands since touching him wasn’t helping my mental acuity.

  “And they sent you?” He questioned, disbelief coating his voice. I caught myself before I nodded, and tried to discreetly shift my head over, so our lips wouldn’t be so close. It didn’t help because he didn’t move and instead followed the movement like a heat seeking missile.

  “Ian thought you’d deck him if he tried and Michael said you bite,” I paused, trying to sort out my scattered thoughts as his body heat raised my own. “Or maybe he said you don’t bite. I’m not sure,” I finally trailed off, biting my lip.

  “I bite,” he affirmed, his teeth catching my lip as I released it with a surprised exhale. He nibbled the plump flesh as my hands slid up the wide expanse of his back, my fingers tracing over the heavy muscle.

  He released my mouth with a sigh, lifting himself up so he could see my face more clearly. The movement pushed his lower body more firmly against mine, and I didn’t miss the hard ridge of flesh pressed against my thigh.