“And,” he said as he stuck a few slices of bacon in the microwave and shut the door, “they have your expertise to translate European sizes into something American girls understand.”
“Exactly.”
They grinned at each other as if they were long-time buddies.
At once, she noticed he had a dimple in his left cheek. And those blue eyes were as dreamy and deep as the water around Naples. His hands, his big, beautiful hands, cupped the edge of the granite counter. In appreciation, her breasts blossomed even more while her pussy lips swelled. She swallowed hard.
He examined her mouth as though he had never seen it before. “Tell you what I’m gonna do, darlin’. I’m going to give you your breakfast and you are going to eat it. While I,” he said as he pushed away from the counter and strolled over to her to bend down a breath away, “am going to go out to look at your truck. It’s straight out that door.” He nodded across the kitchen. “The causeway is covered. You don’t need an umbrella. But come out, if you want. I’d like to talk to you about the damages and what it’ll take to make it right.”
She bit her lower lip, tugging on the flesh, fighting back the temptation to kiss his dimple and sink her hands into that long, straight black hair. “Okay. I need to get my purse out of the cab. Call my Aunt Bree just to say hi myself.”
“She’s fine. Glad you’re safe. She says to come home when you can.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“You are safe and warm and sound here. So eat your breakfast.” He squeezed her shoulder with one of his expressive hands and turned on his heel to let her admire his tush as he plated her eggs and bacon, then left her.
Chapter Six
Food was one thing. But what she really wanted this morning to satisfy her appetite was Harry. He was more than interested in her, impatient to have her. And I am done with fretting about taking on one more brother.
Swallowing the last of her coffee, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and headed toward the kitchen door.
As she put her hand to the knob, she stopped. Practical measures demanded she be smart. If she went out to the barn and managed to tell Harry with her unsubtle clues that she wanted him, she needed to be prepared. Turning around, she went back to the beautiful bathroom, pulled open the drawer where Jed had extracted all his condoms last night and grabbed one. On second thought, acknowledging her voracious appetite, she turned back and pocketed another condom.
She might be horny and she might have the opportunity to make love like a sex kitten to the second man in as many days, but she was not on the Pill. And results of unplanned encounters with irresistible men were not on her agenda.
She took the causeway to the barn at a jog. The weather had turned colder and her cotton shirt was too thin to be any comfort. But if she read Harry’s eyes correctly, she wouldn’t have to worry about heat. He’d give it to her.
She charged through the big door and shut it with a clang. Then she called to him.
“Back here,” his rasping bass voice boomed at her. He stepped around a wall lined with all kinds of tools and she noted how dynamite he looked.
He’d rolled up his shirt past his elbows and his jeans bore a streak of oil they hadn’t in the kitchen. His hands were dirty too. His big, talented hands.
No need to bargain or debate with herself or him.
I just want you, Harry.
She stopped right in front of him and he, sweet man, hadn’t moved an inch since he’d rounded the corner. Every part of him—eyes, mouth, body—seemed to be absorbing her.
In need and desperate desire, she gazed at him.
“Cara, darlin’,” he whispered as he threw down his oily rag and swaggered toward her with a measured pace. “I’m glad you came. Want to talk?”
She shook her head.
“Want to know about your truck?”
Another shake. A smile. She flowed toward him.
He held up his hands for her to see the palms, “I’m dirty.”
If her breasts weren’t screaming to be out and in his hands, if her pussy weren’t pulsing in mad anticipation, she might have laughed. Instead, she took the two steps forward to leave only enough room for him to deny her and turn away. “I want to get dirty.”
His dimple deepened. “You came to the right man. But the way I want to touch you means we’ll have to wait.”
“How long?” she demanded, one finger trailing down the center of his warm, muscular chest.
He groaned, looking at the ceiling. “A minute. Just one. I need to wash my hands.”
“Hurry,” she insisted and watched him take two strides to a sink where he scrubbed himself so diligently she thought he’d remove his skin. He yanked at a paper towel from the rack, swiped once and threw it in the nearby trash can.
He was back suddenly, hauling himself right up against her, one arm around her waist and his cock straining against her pubic bone.
He sank his damp fingers into her hair and held her still. His lips came down on hers in a fierce assault that made her knees give out. He caught her up and frog-marched her around the wall, then up against it. He nipped her lower lip. “Tell me what you need.”
“Your mouth on my breasts.”
Quick as lightning, he leaned back, put two hands in the neck of her shirt and tore the thing in two. “You’ve got such pretty girls here. I knew they were lovely last night peeping out over Jed’s robe. Don’t want to tear this bra though.” His warm fingers danced over the edge and around the back to unfasten it. “Gonna do them justice. Lean forward.”
In a flick of his fingers, he had her naked. He was cupping both breasts. Thumbing her nipples. Tweaking them.
She cried out, jutting them into his hands.
He chuckled then pulled both nipples. “Pink. Like the rest of you. Can I make them red?”
“Yesssss!”
He laughed again. Pushed her flush to the wall and this time, this time, this time, he did what she craved.
He sipped at one nipple. Stroked the other. Then caught it between his teeth and tugged.
She melted. Her legs failed her.
He paused. “Stand up or I stop.”
“Nooo,” she wailed, her hands gripping his waist and drawing him nearer.
He thrust a thigh between hers to help her stay up, then went back to the breast he had favored with his teeth. This time, he used his rough tongue.
She thrashed her head against the wall. Her vision dimmed. All she knew, all she cared to know was his lavish loving. He licked her nipple round and round, forming it, shaping it to a painfully hard point. Then he sucked her, hard and soft, over and over.
“More,” she complained. “The other.” She thrust it at him.
He obliged her and worked on her other breast until she groaned like a madwoman. “Are you gonna fuck me?”
He captured her face, his fingers digging into her scalp, his huge hands a comforting brace. “Want me?”
“Yes. Here. Now.”
He ran a hand over her aching breasts. “Can I leave these for a second to strip you?”
“Yes. Yes!” She worked at her belt buckle and her zipper, then grabbed one of his hands. She sank it inside against her moist mound. She wiggled the fabric lower and took one of his fingers to stroke along her slit. She swooned, in heaven again.
He jerked away, yanking at her jeans, snagging down his own zipper. She caught a glimpse of his cock. Huge, long and red. Commando too.
“Do any of you boys wear underwear?”
He snorted. “Not with you around. We’re ready to roll when you are, darlin’.”
“Like now,” she challenged him with a wide-eyed smile.
He seized her hand and wrapped it around his thick rod. “Show me how eager you are. Then we’ll see if you need to wear underwear. What do you say?”
She laughed then, wild and loud. At once, she stopped. Her newest obsession came to mind. “Can I have you in my mouth first?”
He cursed. “No.”
“Okay,” she said, more agreeable than she ever thought she could be. “Need a condom?” she asked like a major tease.
“Got one.” He bent to fish one from his jeans.
“Prepared, huh?” she asked after he opened the foil and rolled it on in record time.
He pinched one nipple, then rubbed his long rod between her pussy lips. “With you around, you think any of us goes without one?”
She blinked, startled, although the longer she considered his words, the more she accepted them as smart practice. And oh so appealing. So necessary. “You decided that each of you was going to have me?”
He pushed his cock back and forth along her seam and kissed her ear. “Yeah. You objecting?”
Lost in the rhythm and feel of his long cock against her creaming cunt, she shook her head. “No, no. Not at all. I’m getting used to that idea. Takes me awhile. Guess you’re not the only one who was dropped on their head as a baby.”
“One woman for three men is a lot to take in,” he agreed as he nipped at her earlobe and thumbed a nipple.
“In more ways than one,” she laughed, her pussy drenched in desire and swelling unbearably. “Just please make love to me before I come without you.”
He caught her chin. “Look at me. You. Will. Never. Come. Without. One of us. You hear me?”
The command, his audacity thrilled her. “I hear. I agree.”
“Doing yourself might have been necessary—”
She gasped. “How could you know that I—”
“A guess. A woman who’s been wronged like you have, you’d pleasure yourself.”
She worked at words. “I didn’t trust myself to find a good man.”
“But you have.” He kissed her then. Sweetly like a prince charming might. Then he thrust his tongue inside, sweeping the caverns of her being, demanding she surrender to his strength and his authority. And she went. Enchanted and somehow…for some insane instinctive reason, trusting him.
She sank her hands in his hair, loosening the rawhide, messing him up, kissing him back with a savage intensity she didn’t know she could feel.
“Christ, Jesus,” he murmured, pushing her jeans down her thighs and shoving them apart so he could get inside.
In a moment that she swore she’d recall as long as she lived, he rammed his cock inside her pussy.
“Lord have mercy, you are one juicy piece,” he groaned into her ear, kissing her cheek and her jaw as he jammed himself higher
She gasped, she moaned, she rocked with him. Her cunt stretched wide and so delightfully full. He banged her against the wooden wall and she ached with the thrust of his possession. She tried to open her thighs wider to take more and more of him.
But he swore again, hauled her up against him and carried her to her truck. Yanking open the door with one hand, he perched her on the side of the seat, tore off her boots and jerked down her jeans. She was naked in one second, opening her legs in another, taking him deep, deep, impossibly deeper inside her the next.
He settled himself firmly in front of her, gripped her hips and worked her hard and fast and solidly. One finger to her clit, he rolled and massaged her nub until she screamed her need for more and he ground into her.
Teeth bared, eyes hard with lust, he pummeled her cunt until she knew this was what she needed. Him and his fucking. Wild loving. Good loving. His brother. And maybe, yes, even his other brother.
She shuddered as she came, creaming all over his sweet, hard cock.
And he yelled when he let loose, his fingers deep in the flesh of her hips, his eyes on her breasts. Her sore, aching, satisfied breasts.
He wrapped her close to him, both of them breathing as though they’d just run a marathon. Then he smoothed back her hair, kissed her lips quickly and winked at her.
“I think,” he said as he lifted one breast and pinched the nipple so that she mewled in delight, “you smell like motor oil.”
She rubbed her nipples against his chest. “I smell like you.”
“And I need to taste you.” He traced her pussy with a deft fingertip. “Here.”
She shivered deliciously, enticing him with a grin. “Can I rush you?”
“Come on,” he grunted, picked her up and strode with her to the door and out the causeway. ”We’re wastin’ daylight here, woman!”
* * * * *
Living in some X-rated fantasy took a lot of getting used to.
Cara stood in the MacRaes’ huge kitchen pantry, hands on her hips, surveying the healthy supply of canned foods, fresh potatoes, spices and…yes, four different kinds of chocolate, and knew she had to be in a dream world.
What else could explain this crazy house party?
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles. And couldn’t.
Outside, thunder rolled and shook the earth. Inside, the earth moved too. She laughed. How many times had it moved for her since she got here?
Three times last night with Jed. Three with Harry in the barn, the shower and then, agreeing that they needed some comfort, in her bed.
She shifted in her jeans, newly washed once again today after the sweaty doings with Harry. She ran her palms over her nipples, clothed now in one of Harry’s shirts and already aching for his mouth. Damn, and he hadn’t been gone but three, maybe four hours from her arms.
Horny was not an appropriate word to describe her yearnings any longer.
Now I’m constantly needy. Craven.
She rubbed her thighs together, feeling her lips pulse and her cunt flood with warm cream. She licked her lips, her eyes no longer focused on the items before her but on mental images of her with Jed. Her with Harry. And now—wow, was she truly lost—fantasies of her with Will.
And I haven’t got the faintest clue who he is or why I should want him. Other than his brothers are the finest specimens of male virility I’ve met in years and so… Doesn’t it follow that Will must be just like them?
Hmm. And what was his expertise?
Jed was a forthright man. Harry was funny and fast. Did a woman learn the true nature of a man when she went to bed with him? Certainly she had proof of that. With these two MacRaes. With Jeffrey, the plain vanilla guy. With two other boys she had dated at UT in Austin, both of whom were quick and unimaginative. And I wasn’t creative in the sack either.
The thought struck her. To get in bed, you had to give. And this, she knew with a glowing insight, was what she had learned from the MacRaes. What she had been ready to learn. What she was willing to do now was give more of herself. Give well and often. She laughed.
She ran her hands through her hair. Stop mooning, kid. She’d promised Harry she would cook dinner while he went out to help his brothers who still weren’t back from the range.
Now get a move on!
She took down two cans of crushed tomatoes, a box of thin spaghetti and headed for the counter with them. Garlic, she found in the vegetable basket. Onion, green pepper and even a chili too. Harry had told her they had an herb garden out back if she needed oregano or basil or parsley, but with the downpour still going strong outside, she was too much of a wuss to venture out and pick any. In the wonderful freezer, she found ground beef and pulled it out to thaw.
Harry had been surprised she could cook. But she’d show them she was capable of more than becoming a daring bed partner. She paused in mid-stride to the counter, struck by the fact that Harry had not known she could cook.
Had even said so.
That had passed right by her as he had ruffled her hair as though she were a kid, kissed her as if she were made of porcelain, then waved goodbye, assuring her he’d be back for more of her good lovin’.
Ahem.
Yes. But she went to the table and sat down to think.
Horny, craven, whatever she was, she hadn’t thought too much today about what had struck her last night. That the three of them had planned this…this hook-up with her. Oh, not her coming to their ranch with their boxes of leather goods. But getting her here. For the
first time since she had divorced Mr. Asshole, she felt the power of her femininity.
She laughed. She had lost that over the last few years. And now, she had it back. Twice over. Maybe even three times…
Her gaze traveled to her own boxes, still on the far counter. Unopened. Even though—she shifted and her breasts brushed the soft cotton of Harry’s shirt—even though her own little French demi-bra was washed and now sitting in her bedroom. Still, she hadn’t bothered to open up the boxes, remove one fabulous treat for herself and don it. Not panties either.
Just as she had asked Harry in the barn, she now asked herself. “Do you not need underwear when you’re around them?”
No. You don’t want anything between you and them.
She stood.
Sank down again.
Reeling with self-understanding.
For minutes, she remained where she was. Absorbing the impact of her own revelation, she didn’t argue with herself about its validity. She knew she didn’t have to. Instinct? Good instinct? Whatever it was, it assured her and reassured her that she was fine. And unafraid.
They had planned to seduce her. Gratifying as that was, she was more proud of herself that she was—and she tried not to snort at her own choice of words here—a good fit.
Will was the first to come home a few hours later. Soaked through, he opened the back kitchen door and looked at her like a drowned man making it to shore.
“It’s hell out there, Cara. Pardon me for getting undressed here, but I damn sure do not want to traipse all this crud through the house. Left my hat, my coat and boots on the porch.”
“Let me help you,” she assured him, wiping her hands on her apron and striding toward him. “You must be frozen through. The storm’s getting worse.”
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