Two Times the Trouble

by Mellanie Szereto

  Bewitching Desires 5

  Two Times the Trouble

  Under constant attack from her family's sworn enemy, Jolán Macska has all but given up hope of finding her mates when the day of her twenty-first birthday arrives. Now a full-fledged witch, her fertility cycle has begun and she must find her mates soon or wait seven years to try again. Security is tight, and no one dares leave the safety of the estate. How will she meet any eligible men?

  Liam Pattison and Ivan Janokov have been hired to build a new wing onto the Macska mansion to accommodate the growing family. Both men are drawn to Jolán, and the stepbrothers are at odds when they begin the job.

  When the enemy attacks, the three of them are trapped in the basement beneath a massive maze of tangled lumber. While there, Jolán, Liam, and Ivan must discover a way to work together to build a strong and lasting love.

  Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 30,985 words

  TWO TIMES THE TROUBLE

  Bewitching Desires 5

  Mellanie Szereto

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  TWO TIMES THE TROUBLE

  Copyright © 2012 by Mellanie Szereto

  E-book ISBN: 1-61926-550-8

  First E-book Publication: April 2012

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  Many thanks to my fabulous critique partners, my family, and my readers. Your support means the world to me.

  TWO TIMES THE TROUBLE

  Bewitching Desires 5

  MELLANIE SZERETO

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter 1

  “Happy birthday to me. Whoop-dee-doo.” Jolán Macska kicked at the dry grass as she marched toward the herb garden to gather parsley for the night’s evening meal. The sun still hung low in the eastern sky, and already she dreaded the next fourteen hours. “A day like any other.”

  What a way to celebrate her twenty-first birthday and the first of her fertility cycles. Her hormones were going crazy, but without a man around, the sex education lessons of the last year were worthless. Instead of searching for a mate, she’d have to resort to orgasms via her collection of sex toys for the next week. When it was over, she’d still technically be a virgin. How humiliating. Even worse, she’d have to wait seven years before she could begin the hunt again—and she’d have to spend the entire day listening to false words of encouragement from grandmothers, aunts, and cousins.

  “If I ever get my hands on that shifty old Kazmer, I’m going to make him pay for messing up my—” She kicked again. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow!”

  She hopped on one foot to inspect her throbbing toe, but her skirt slipped down her leg every time she let go of it to grasp her heel. A bumblebee buzzed around her head. “Arghh! I bet you’re one of his nasty minions.”

  “What happened? Are you hurt?” A male voice had her turning toward the barn. Long, lean legs carried an upper body sculpted from marble and a handsome chiseled face that sent her uterus into a spasm.

  “Oh, Goddess, thank you!” Every nerve ending in her pussy jumped to attention. The Fates had given her a gorgeous hunk of a man for her birthday. Sky blue eyes and light brown hair. Muscles galore. Her ankle gave way as she lost her balance on the uneven path. She swung her arms out and prepared for a painful collision with the ground.

  Strong arms caught and lifted her as she fell sideways. “Careful. Did you step on something? You probably shouldn’t be walking around barefoot out here with the construction going on.”

  Heat flooded the juncture of her thighs, and a rush of lightheadedness took her by surprise. “Mm, bee sting. I feel strange.”

  “Are you allergic?” His forearms cradled her legs and back.

  “No, I don’t think so.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. His clean-shaven chin brushed her forehead.

  He strode away from the gardens. “Is there fresh water in the barn? If we wash your foot, maybe I can find the stinger and take it out.”

  “Hm? Yes, water.” Tightening her hold around his neck, she inhaled the woodsy scent of her savior. “You smell wonderful, like the woods in the spring.”

  One side of his mouth quirked upward. “Are you sure you’re not hallucinating? Sounds a little poetic for a guy smell.”

  The light dimmed as they entered the stable, but he didn’t slow. One of the mares nickered from her stall down the center aisle from them. Would the horses mind a bit of moaning and screaming while she had a romp in the hay with tall, built, and sexy?

  “Can you tell me where to find a spigot?” He took a quick left turn. “A bathroom. Good. And a cot. Maybe there’s a first aid kit. Are you sure you’re not allergic? You seem a little out of it.”

  Not out of it—more like into him. She giggled. “What’s your name?”

  He settled her on the wide cot, loosening her arms from his neck. “Liam. Liam Pattison. I’ll be right back.”

  His perfectly rounded ass flexed as he stepped toward the sink. He bent to open the lower cabinet and pulled out a bottle of witc
h hazel, a box of bandages, and a bag of cotton balls. With his every movement, lust coursed through her veins. She couldn’t stop a wicked smile from forming.

  “I don’t see any antihistamines. Maybe we should go to the house, um, mansion.” He shifted, looking at her over his shoulder.

  “No.” A shudder raced up her spine. “Kata’s and Rebeka’s concoctions might work, but they almost always taste and smell terrible. A kiss will probably do the trick.”

  His lips twitched and curved upward. He chuckled. “You’re not shy, are you? Let’s see about that bee sting first.”

  Snagging a washcloth from the shelf above the sink, he wet it and carried it to the cot. When he lifted her foot onto his lap, her long skirt slid up her calf, and she tugged it past her knee. The gentle stroking along her arch made her pulse jump and her clit contract. Wetness dampened her panties, and she spread her thighs in the hope that he’d catch the musky scent of her arousal.

  He moved to her toes, his touch light enough to tickle. She focused on the caress of his fingers and bit her lower lip to keep from jerking her foot from his grasp.

  “I’m not sure how you managed to step on a bee with such tiny feet. I don’t see any—”

  “Ouch!”

  He held up his hands. “Oops, sorry. Looks like I found the stinger. Some redness. Not much swelling, so you probably aren’t allergic. Hold still while I get it out.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Jolán waited for the inevitable stab of pain. A squeak escaped when he scraped across the sore spot, and she willed away the tears pooling behind her eyelids.

  “Got it.”

  Something cool dribbled between her toes, and she flinched at the burn of antiseptic on the injury.

  “You okay?”

  She shook her head, taking a slow inhale then exhale before opening her eyes. His method beat a stinky poultice, hands down. She sat up and clutched the front of his T-shirt in her fist. “I could really use that kiss.”

  Tugging him closer, she pressed her lips to his mouth and teased the seam with the tip of her tongue. The sex manual had given instructions for kisses for various occasions, but it hadn’t prepared her for the powerful zings of desire streaming from her face to her breasts to her cunt. Pushing past his lips, she made a circuit around the moist interior of his mouth, tracing his teeth and gliding against his tongue. He tasted of mint toothpaste and something she could only describe as horny male.

  He groaned and eased her backward to lie on the cot. With every swipe, he became the aggressor, but she refused to let him overpower her. She nipped at his lip when he tried to push their sparring to his advantage. Her blood heated, and her heart hammered in her chest. She needed more.

  Yanking his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, she skimmed the contours of the muscles beneath the silky skin on his back. His spine made a shallow valley up its length, and his shoulder blades formed two smooth plateaus on either side. She raked her fingernails up and down, the need to mark him nearly annihilating her thoughts.

  He pulled away, panting against her cheek as he wrenched off the T-shirt and worked her tank top up far enough to bare her breasts. “Damn, braless. Do you have any idea how much I love tits?”

  She arched against him, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the coarse hair on his chest. “Enough to suck and lick them, I hope.”

  “Hell, yeah.” He levered up on his elbows and drew a circle around her puckered tip with his tongue.

  She gasped when he fluttered back and forth, sending tremors shooting to every erogenous zone in her body. Moisture flooded her pussy. She moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him in place. Playing with her own breasts didn’t begin to compare with being touched by a man.

  Pulling her nipple into his mouth, he ground his erection into her thigh. She pushed back and hiked her skirt up to her waist. “I want to taste your cock, Liam, and then I want to fuck you.”

  He growled, the vibrations radiating through her core. Without releasing her, he climbed off the cot and unbuttoned his jeans. She reached over to help him ease down the zipper. Ragged breath teased her overheated skin. “Whatever you want, honey. You like being on top?”

  How was she supposed to answer that question with her total lack of experience? “Shut up and undress.”

  His eyes darkened to oceanic blue as he shoved his pants down his legs. His rock-hard dick jutted out, nested in light brown curls and sporting a road map of three-dimensional veins on taut, purplish skin. Leaning toward her, he guided the glistening head toward her mouth. “It’s all yours.”

  Happy birthday to me! She trailed her tongue up his length, following the ridge to the crown and over the drops of pre-cum leaking from the slit. After a quick trip around his cap, she swallowed him. Fighting the gag reflex she’d learned to overcome with her Fillet of Cock dildo, she sucked and scraped her teeth along the steely hardness as she rose to the end again. “Mm. Tasty.”

  “Shit, you’re killing me. I’m going to come before I get to be in your pussy if you keep that up.” His hand snaked over her hip and into her panties, pushing them past her ankles. His finger slipped through her juices on the return trip, dipping into cunt. He skated out and over her clitoris.

  Shivers rippled through her body, and she hovered on the precipice of pure sensual pleasure. “Right there. Don’t stop!”

  He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he continued to flick at her clit. “You’re so wet. Are you ready to ride me?”

  Her shallow breaths made answering him almost impossible, but she opened her eyes wide and concentrated on the words. “Make me come first, and then I’ll sit on that beautiful dick.”

  “Don’t worry. I plan to make you come at least twice. Once now, and once when I’m inside you. Maybe twice if I can last that long. We’re going to play ‘find and conquer the G-spot.’” He withdrew his finger, bringing it to his mouth and sucking her juices from it. “Mm-mm. Time for orgasm number one.”

  The second he slicked between her pussy lips, he gave her nipple a squeeze, pushing her over the edge. A wave of utter bliss stole the air from her lungs and drowned her in a rush of satisfaction. She released the scream that had momentarily gotten stuck in her throat.

  Liam lifted her by her waist, flopping down on the cot and settling her on his erection in a single graceful movement. “Fuck, you feel good. Fast and hard, honey.”

  She sucked in a breath at the sudden fullness, still seeing spots from the recent explosion. Aftershocks shook her, even as she began rocking forward and back. A year of fantasizing with assorted sexual aides didn’t begin to approach the reality of sex with a real man. “Wow. I can feel every inch of you.”

  Sliding his palms up her thighs, he took hold of her hips, helping her maintain a steady rhythm. She arched backward toward his legs, adjusting where the head of his cock massaged. Experience told her he’d hit her G-spot if she leaned away from him.

  He thrust upward as he guided her forward, and she cried out from the pressure. “Did we find it?”

  She let loose with another high-pitched moan when he repeated the action.

  “Yeah, honey. Come again. I love watching your face.”

  Each collision brought more tension. He swelled, tightening the fit and increasing the friction until every cell exploded. A burst of color flashed in front of her eyes. Euphoria charged through her nerve endings, and her throat ached from the long yell of relief.

  He stiffened beneath her. “Ah, God, yes!”

  Wet heat flooded her insides as he came. She dropped her head to his chest, certain she was about to melt into a puddle where she lay. His thundering heartbeat echoed in her ear. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer than any other person had held her.

  He’s The One. The words came unbidden into her mind. Could she have found her mate?

  The hormones humming through her body seemed to have calmed, but she’d been warned not to trust her instincts while under the influence of a
fertility cycle. The chemicals skewed a witch’s common sense and logic. Pregnancy was the only proof-positive connection with a true mate, and for that to occur, the parties had to love each other.

  Liam couldn’t have gotten her pregnant yet. They had seven more days to achieve that goal, though.

  He wiggled beneath her, loosening his hold and rolling her off of him. “Look, the sex was fantastic, but...” Pivoting to sit on the edge of the cot, he lowered his head to hands for several seconds then stood to pull up his jeans and pace the small room. He stopped at the sink, leaning over it with his back to her. A gray muffling cloud surrounded him, negative energy blurring the edges his silhouette. “I’m not interested in a relationship right now. I went through a really bad breakup last year, and...I just can’t, okay? It’s not you.”

  Not me? She wasn’t his One? His brutal rejection soured the sweet afterglow, dousing her hormones, her emotions, and her body in ice water. She straightened her clothes and waited for him to face her. What would she say? What could she say?

  He turned, his lips pressed together in a grim line. “I’m sorry.”

  A laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she scooted to the end of cot closest to the doorway. She pushed to her feet, trying to ignore the semen dribbling down her inner thigh. “Rather presumptuous, aren’t you? What makes you think I want anything more than a one-time roll in the hay with you?”

  His eyes finally met hers, and he frowned. “You shouldn’t sleep with every guy you meet.”

  Oh, dear Goddess, the gall of this weasel. The twinge of hurt morphed into disgust. She shook her head and snorted. “Are you calling me a slut, Mr. Naughty Man-Whore? That’s some self-righteous double standard you have there.”