Her Best Men: A Brother's Best Friends Reverse Harem

by Rye Hart

Ember

  I called my mother when I was about three months pregnant. I didn't know why – it wasn't like I owed her a damn thing. For some reason though, I wanted to let her know she would be a grandmother. At first, the conversation was tough. Halting. Awkward.

  She believed that I'd planned it all along. That I'd schemed and contrived a way for me to end up with Jude. I feared the worst – I feared I might have lost my mother completely. Feared I might have lost her just as I was starting my own journey as a mom-to-be. I needed her more than anything in the world.

  I knew that balancing school and a newborn was not going to be easy. But, I never doubted that I could do it. I wasn't alone, after all. There were four men willing to step up and do what needed to be done to make sure that child was well taken care of. That I was well taken care of.

  I was about eight months pregnant when there was a knock on the door. We were just about moved into our new home – an even larger estate for all of us – when the most unexpected of visitors arrived at our doorstep.

  “Mom?” I couldn't believe my eyes when I opened the door.

  I quickly steeled myself, prepared for what I assumed would be an onslaught of insults. That's all I'd gotten up until that point. But standing there on my doorstep, I could see that something had changed. I saw the difference in her eyes. In her face. Rather than scorn and derision, she stared at me with something close to awe.

  She looked down, saw my pregnant belly, and something seemed to hit her all at once. If I had to guess, I would have said it was the realization that she was going to be a grandmother – and that she was that close to losing me. Not just me, but her grandchild as well.

  “Ember, I'm so sorry,” she said.

  She stepped forward and embraced me, tears streaming down her cheeks along with the remnants of her mascara. I wanted to accept her hugs, to believe she was sincere, but I was hesitant. Her visit had come out of the blue, without any sort of advance warning, and I couldn't help but feel like she was playing an angle. What that angle was, I hadn't the first clue.

  I just didn't trust her and remained stiff in her arms. She pulled away, hurt and confusion on her face.

  I looked her in the eye and asked her point blank, “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see you,” she said. “Can't I just want to see you?”

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stared at her. She knew I wasn't buying it and sighed.

  “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I just wanted to let you know that I'm getting married again, and –”

  “And here, I thought maybe you'd changed,” I muttered. “Which billionaire's bed have you weaseled your way into this time?”

  She looked down at the ground, color creeping into her cheeks. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “Damn right you did,” I replied.

  She let out a long breath and looked back up at me. “No one,” she said, her cheeks still flushed. “I mean, not a billionaire at least. It's – Marlon.”

  “Marlon?” I asked, disbelief washing through me. “Really? I thought –”

  “I'd never marry him because he's not loaded enough?” she chuckled. “Yeah, me too. But if this experience with you and Jude – and losing you for so long – has taught me anything, it's that money isn't everything. That money is the very least of things, actually.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for the catch. Waiting for her to deliver the punchline and reveal herself to be the greedy, gold-digging woman I knew her to be.

  “That and his company was just bought out by Time Warner,” she said. “He may not be a billionaire, but we'll be pretty comfortable.”

  That was more like it. Closer to the mom I knew. Still, I couldn't help but crack a smile. All these years, mom had fooled around with Marlon, loving him and only him, and finally, she'd get to have him. Maybe my mom could have a happily ever after too.

  Hell, if she could, I certainly could too.

  “Well, I'm happy for you,” I said. “You'll have to send me an invite.”

  Mom's eyes drifted back down to my belly. “Do you know the sex yet?”

  I nodded. “We're having a girl.”

  Mom's eyes filled with tears again as a shaky smile creased her lips. “A daughter.”

  “Yes, I'm going to have a daughter,” I snapped. “And trust me, she's never going to go without. Nor is she going to learn to be a taker. She will never learn the fine art of swindling rich, old, lonely men.”

  Mom's eyes fell. She looked honestly sorry and ashamed, but it wouldn't be that easy to forgive. Maybe, in time, we could move past it, but she'd be the one having to make the effort. Not me.

  “I want to know my grandchild, Ember,” she said. “And I'd like to have my daughter back too, if that's all even remotely possible.”

  I hesitated for a moment, searching her eyes. Searching her face. I searched for the barest flash of insincerity. I found nothing of the sort. In fact, all I found was sincerity and hope in her eyes. She'd changed. I didn't know what had precipitated it, but she'd changed. For the better. Which was a rarity in people, it seemed.

  “I'd like that, mom.”

  “I know it'll take time –”

  “That's the understatement of the year.”

  Mom flinched. My words hurt her. I even felt a little bad for it.

  “Come inside,” I groaned. “Let's talk. The movers will be here soon.”

  “You're moving?” she asked.

  “Yes, to a bigger house,” I said.

  “A bigger house than this?”

  I laughed. I'd said the same thing, but now that it was happening, it made sense. Not that I wanted to explain to my mom about how I had four different baby daddies and they were all moving in with us. Nah, I'd let her figure it out on her own. Because God, if she hated me before when I'd taken one billionaire away from her, what would she think if she discovered I had four now?

  I'll admit, it was a nice thought. Four handsome, sexy billionaires. What more could a girl ask for?

  The End

  6 MOUNTAIN BROTHERS FOR CHRISTMAS

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  PROLOGUE

  Standing there, in the living room, we passed around the bottles until they were drained of their contents. I looked down at the green bottle in my hands and smiled, placing it on the ground before I spun it.

  It spun, and it spun, and I could feel the brothers’ eyes on me. Their curious glances slowly growing devilish while my nipples puckered painfully behind my bra. They knew what I was thinking, and I knew what was rolling through their heads. As the bottle slowed to a stop in front of Chance, I lifted my gaze to him and grinned.

  “Chance,” I said. “Truth or Dare?”

  In an instant, the entire atmosphere in the room changed. Chance’s gaze held mine steadily as I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth, and I heard Ethan let out a groan as Chance drew in a long breath through his nose.

  “Dare,” he said.

  “I dare you, Chance Trent, to undress me and make me come.”

  “Oh…,” he said as he approached me. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

  In an instant, Chance’s lips were on mine as his hands rounded around to my ass. I could feel his strength pressing into me, pinning me between him and the cool glass of the sliding back doors.

  “I’ll give it to you just the way you want,” he said into my lips.

  He stripped me of my clothes before he picked me up against his body. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling him carry me up the steps. He opened up one of the bedrooms and laid me down onto the bed. I could hear the footsteps of the other Trent brothers behind us, and I was thrilled for the show we were about to give them.

  Chance’s lips kissing down my cheek and suckling at the skin on my neck.

  “Oh Chance,” I said, whispering.

  “Say it again,” he said.

  “Chance,” I said. “Please don’t make me wait.”

  “I love it when you say my
name.”

  His lips traveled down my breasts, bypassing my nipples that were angry and screaming for attention. His hands parted my legs, and I felt my juices dripping out onto the bed. He kissed the insides of my legs, sniffing my scent deeply before his tongue slid up my slit. My hands wound into the sheets underneath my body, and my heels dug into Chance’s back while his tongue worked my clit.

  I could feel my toes curling even before he picked up his pace. And the most erotic part of the experience was my acute awareness of the other brothers in the room – patiently waiting.

  Had someone told me I’d be in this position (pun intended) one month ago, I would have laughed in disbelief.

  Yet, in this very moment I knew one thing for certain: I was the luckiest girl in this enchanted mountain town.

  CHAPTER ONE - KYRA

  Why the hell did I become a sex education teacher?

  I’m the last person that should be teaching these kids about sex!

  My eyes scanned the words on the page, and the text made my cheeks flushes. I swallowed as the students continued to stare. I could hear their snickers and feel their judgmental glances burning into my skin.

  Oh, that’s right…it was either this, or babysitting obnoxious rich kids.

  I forced myself to keep reading the words out loud, but my voice continued to stammer. “The tip of the…ahem… male’s anatomy… is the most sensitive part of his body. It is akin to a woman’s…’”

  “If she can’t say ‘penis,’ she’ll never say ‘clit,” one student said.

  “Miss Lancaster, are you trying to say a dude’s cockhead is like my clit?”

  I whipped my head up while my eyes scanned the room. “Who asked that?”

  “Me,” said the Angela Lopez, the girl at the back of the class that had it in for me the entire semester.

  “Well, yes that’s what this book is trying to say,” I said.

  “Nah, the book says it just fine. But you can’t even say the word ‘penis.’ How’d you get this job anyway?”

  “Come on, Miss Lancaster,” another student said. “Say it. Say ‘penis.”

  The children were laughing uncontrollably like something out of a nightmare. I dipped my head toward the pages of the book, not wanting to face the jeering mob.

  What has my life come to?

  After a college career spent learning psychology and education, this was where it got me. A sad reality spent drooling over an idiot ex-fiancé that wanted nothing to do with the real me.

  Landon was much more interested in the pathetic picture of a cookie cutter wife he wanted me to fit into. I’d basically put my life and dreams on hold when I dropped everything and followed him into the city.

  Months of applying for jobs resulted in mostly nanny offers, until I received a phone call from a high school in Queens. The facility was in dire need of a sex-education teacher. Rumor had it, the former teacher was let go after getting caught making out with her student in the locker room. Yuck!

  The stress from the last few months of a sad relationship and a thankless job was showing - especially in my figure. I’d put on some noticeable weight around my mid-section and rear. Getting into my favorite pair of jeans became a creative process, entailing deep yoga breaths and a prayer. I seriously felt for my poor zipper which held on for dear life. I’ve always been a curvy girl, but things were beginning to get ridiculous - even by my standards.

  If that wasn’t enough to stress over, I was stuck in the middle of a city I hated, and teaching children a subject I had less knowledge about then they did.

  “How many sexual partners have you had, Miss Lancaster?” a girl asked.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “How many blow jobs have you given?!” a boy shouted.

  “That is not an appropriate question,” I said.

  “I’ve had three,” a girl said.

  “Dude, me too!” another exclaimed.

  “I’m still a virgin, but I’m changin’ that tonight,” someone else chimed in.

  God help me. My middle school kids were more sexually experienced than I was.

  “All right, everyone! Pop quiz!”

  All of them groaned while I handed out the papers. Then I sat back at my desk and took out my phone. The quiz was supposed to be for tomorrow, a little parting gift before Christmas break, but I had to do something to bring the embarrassment to a halt. When I first moved to New York City, it was on the heels of my fiancé.

  His entire business empire was here, and it was assumed I would follow him. When I got here, I was in desperate need of a job. Even though I moved, we weren’t living together officially, and up until a few weeks ago, I could hardly get him to nail down a wedding date. He expected me to follow him wherever he went, but he didn’t want to give me solid commitment. It was total bullshit and I was sick of playing games.

  The funniest part was that he was the one that wooed me relentlessly at first. In college, he’d been romantic. He took me on random plane trips to the other side of the country and surprised me with dozens of roses after end-of-semester exams. He showered me with attention, and he was gentle when he took my virginity. He opened my mind sexually to things I never thought I would experience - and up until this job, I thought I was well-versed in the art of sex.

  But clearly, I was not.

  Unlike me, Landon was wild and spontaneous. He was a buyer while I was a window shopper. If there was something I even stared at long enough, he would get it without a second thought. I’ve never liked the idea of letting someone buy my affection, but he would object. He genuinely wanted to express his love, and I guess it was the best way he knew how.

  But when we graduated, things changed.

  Suddenly, he wanted to know what I planned to do with my life. He wondered why I wasn’t pursuing a Master’s in Business or focusing on becoming the best paid educator in the nation. Pursing money or recognition wasn’t important to me; I wanted to help people – specifically in their relationships.

  I grew up in a broken household, with parents that hated each other. It eventually led to a bitter divorce, which was the worst memory of my childhood. Luckily I managed to move on with my life, but my sister, Abby, had major issues dealing. Even as an adult, she blames her troubles with commitment to my parents’ failed relationship. The girl refused to commit to a puppy, much less a man. It was hard to witness; especially knowing she was limiting her own happiness out of fear.

  Growing up, I promised myself I would find a way to help others avoid the struggles that came out of poor relationships. I told Landon I wanted to build my own YouTube empire, based solely around relationship advice, and once I could work up the courage, share tactics couples could use to spice up their life.

  And all Landon did was throw his head back and laugh. He told me I was coming to New York City with him after we graduated, so I followed. He proposed to me the moment we stepped off his private jet, and suddenly, all my anger melted away. He wrapped me in his arms and told me he was sorry, that he supported me in whatever decisions I wanted to make.

  But the dream was short-lived.

  He didn’t want to set a date for the wedding, and he still wanted to jet away on the weekends. Then there was the complete lack of support for my dreams. Whenever I tried to get my YouTube channel up and running, he always had something planned to interrupt me. A charity ball or an event that popped up out of nowhere, diverting me from what I’d sat down to do that evening after searching for jobs.

  Eventually, I asked if I could move in officially instead of simply living with him temporarily. When he told me he would think about it I was honestly disappointed.

  Truthfully, I was pissed. We were apparently getting married, and he was having trouble committing to shared living quarters?

  I wasn’t going to pressure him into making a decision. If it wasn’t one hundred percent his choice to commit then he could take his ring back.

  And, the moment he started jetting away on the weekends w
ithout me, I decided enough was enough.

  He looked down on my profession and laughed my dreams.

  He dragged me to cities I didn’t want to be and postponed the wedding.

  The straw that broke the camel’s back was a secret life he was living behind closed doors.

  We were done.

  Now, I was sitting in a classroom I had no business teaching, juggling the numerous phone calls he was sending to my phone, while the students took their pop quiz. Now, the man I called my ex-fiancé was trying to get me to talk. He thought I would come crawling back to him if he sent me gifts.

  But those gifts turned into surprise appearances at my apartment. And those appearances that went unanswered turned into angry text messages. And now, those unanswered text messages were turning into angry voice messages he was leaving me every single time I ignored his phone calls.

  I needed a serious time out.

  The children started bringing their pop quizzes up to the desk and setting them down. I only had seven more minutes until I could release them to go home, and relief cascaded throughout my body. I was ready for Christmas break. I was ready to see my father, my friends and the place I still called home, Castle Rock, Colorado. And finally, I was ready to figure out how the hell I was going to put all of this behind me and follow the dreams I’d once had pulling at my heart strings.

  Just as the bell rang to release the students, text messages began to light up on my phone. I put my hand on top of the pop quizzes that were being tossed at me, while trying to ignore the snickering of the students still teasing me.

  When I looked at my phone, it wasn’t my ex trying to get ahold of me this time. The Trent brothers were blowing up my phone, wondering when in the world I was coming home. Their jokes and comments had me giggling as I sat there in the quiet of my little classroom.

  The Trent brothers had been our neighbors for years. My mother called them the “gaggle of gossips,” mostly because there were six boys, and all of them were prone to running their mouths. They became my solace when my mother died. A rare blood disorder essentially caused her body to turn on itself, and those six boys were my only reprieve from the horrible experience of letting my mother go, far too early.