“Mollie,” Lysander whispered. “You are so perfect.”
She lifted her head and shifted so she could kiss him too, and while she locked lips with Lysander, Flint nuzzled her neck. When she turned back to face Flint, she rocked her hips and they both let out loud groans.
“Was it good for you?” she asked, trying to mask her fear with humor.
Flint laughed, and the sound vibrated through her and into Lysander, judging by his pinched expression.
“Fuck,” Lysander gasped and pulled back. “Going to let us do this?”
“I’m going to make you do it if you don’t hurry up,” she snapped.
“Did we order the pushy model?” Lysander asked Flint.
“Deluxe,” Flint said “Pushy and sexy.”
Lysander pulled her up onto her knees. When he pressed his fingers into the crease of her butt, Mollie whimpered and tensed. Flint laughed and she growled.
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” Lysander said.
“Need to relax.” Flint guided her down onto his cock.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” she wailed as he slid deeper and deeper.
Flint lifted her by the hips until his cock was almost out of her then dragged her down.
“No more,” he grunted.
“Once?” Mollie tried to put as much indignation into her voice as she could. “That’s all I get?”
He rocked up into her and held her hips tight to stop her moving. “Twice. Okay? Satisfied?”
The sensation of his thick cock filling her made her clench her muscles around him and Flint gasped. “Fuck.”
When Lysander pressed his face against the place where they were joined, Mollie and Flint both froze. The squirt of cold lube made her buck and Flint screwed up his face. Lysander rubbed her anus with his finger, spread the lube as he pressed and circled the ring of muscle. She pushed back against him and his finger slipped inside her.
“You don’t feel as big as I thought,” she blurted.
Lysander chuckled. Then there were two fingers inside her and Mollie sucked in a breath against the sting of pain. But the burn faded and as he began to gently fuck her with his fingers, ribbons of pleasure uncurled in her belly and fluttered in her chest. The pressure of Lysander’s thrusts pushed her up and down on Flint’s cock and Flint began to pant, his fingers tightening on her waist. He reached for her mouth with his and kissed her and Mollie sank deeper into pleasure until she felt the broad head of Lysander’s cock replace his fingers.
Then she panicked. Her breathing became so erratic as he slid his cock up and down the crease of her butt that she wondered if she’d forgotten how to breathe.
“You have to push back against me, sweetheart,” Lysander said. “Do the opposite of what you think you want to do.”
“Now I’m confused,” Mollie said.
But when Lysander pressed harder, gently rocking into her, and Flint kept her exactly where she was, she forced the tension out of her body and Lysander slipped partway inside her.
She tried hard not to flinch, not to cry out, not to yell no way is that going to fit. But it was difficult.
“It’ll fit,” Lysander said.
Mollie groaned. “Did I say that? Or are you butting in on my internal conversation?”
“Butting in on something,” Flint said.
Mollie laughed then cried out when Lysander slid a little deeper and kept going.
“Oh fuck, fuck,” Lysander gasped.
Mollie could feel them both deep inside her, the sensation of fullness, rightness made her want to cry but she couldn’t even breathe.
“Mollie, Mollie,” Flint said. “Take a breath.”
Can’t.
“There’s someone at the window,” Flint said.
“What?” She gasped then sagged when she saw the smile on his face.
“Forget upstairs?” Flint asked.
“Is it okay to move?” Lysander asked. “And just so you don’t end up disappointed, we will get better at this, it’s just that you’re so tight and sweet and hot and…fuck.”
“Can you feel Flint’s cock?” she whispered.
“Is that what that short stubby thing is?” Lysander asked.
“Bastard,” Flint said and bucked up hard, which sent Mollie into Lysander and made all three of them cry out.
“Be serious now,” Lysander said.
Mollie squeezed every muscle she had and the guys let out shaky cries.
“Mollie, maybe you ought to just lie there,” Lysander said.
She squeezed again.
“Fuck,” Flint moaned.
“We’re all in this together,” Mollie said. “But if you don’t get a move on, I’ll have to take things into my own hands.”
They worked together, gliding into a rhythm, hips shifting in turn as they shared her between them. She knew they must be able to feel their cocks sliding against each other and the thought thrilled her. Lysander held her by her ribs, Flint by her waist, and they rocked and rolled to their own music, shared between the three of them. The sounds of their bodies sliding together, their noisy breathing, the feel of them joined so intimately drove Mollie on a journey that could only end in perfect bliss.
She came suddenly, as if she’d been knocked off her feet, bursting like a solar flare, contractions biting her belly before racing in fiery torrents over the rest of her body. She gave a loud cry and her back arched, her head going back into Lysander as the world turned white-hot. Lysander thrust faster, driving into her, pushing her up on Flint before Flint pushed her down onto Lysander. Flint tugged her onto his chest, fused his mouth with hers, and Lysander pressed his face to the sides of theirs to share the kiss. Both guys stiffened at the same time, sucked in a breath at the same time, and when she felt them come inside her, Mollie toppled into another orgasm. She thought she might explode with love.
None of them could move for a while, but Mollie became dimly aware that they were washing her with warm cloths, muttering sweet nothings in her ears, wrapping themselves around her and keeping her safe.
It was all she needed. And she never wanted it to stop.
Epilogue
Six months later
Flint felt Mollie’s fingers creep onto his and he smiled at her. He wasn’t going to win, but even being nominated for an Oscar had been beyond thrilling. He hadn’t won the BAFTA he’d been nominated for, but hadn’t gone to the ceremony. He was sure an Oscar was out of his reach, but Mollie had made him practice a speech just in case.
She and Lysander had flown to the States with him and sat with Ryker, who was chewing his nails. Flint wasn’t nervous because there was no way they’d call out his name. He wasn’t yet back to normal but he was almost there. Much to Ryker’s disappointment, Flint had told Weston Davies in confidence about his stroke and Davies had said if Flint wasn’t up to filming, he’d give him another six months because he was the person for the role. An offer that had staggered both Flint and Ryker.
“Here we go,” Mollie whispered and squeezed his hand even tighter.
She was more excited than him. Flint listened as the nominations for best actor were read out, almost surprised to hear his name. They showed clips from the four films and Flint thought Mitch Logan would get it for a film about an explorer in South America. He felt quite calm, ready to applaud the winner, a smile already on his face, until the moment the envelope was ripped open and he allowed himself just a moment of hope.
“And the winner is…”
Oh yeah, just fucking stretch it out.
“Flint Klavan for Edge.”
Flint was clapping Logan before he realized that wasn’t the name that had been read out. Mollie kicked him and he rose to his feet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Please don’t let that be the first word that comes out of my mouth.
He made it onto the stage without falling over. Kissed everyone within reach and stood in front of the mic looking out onto a sea of expectant faces.
“I won,” he said in gen
uine astonishment and everyone laughed.
He took a deep breath. “I had a speech prepared just in case—on the off chance, because there’s a long list of people I need to thank.” He took a roll of paper from his pocket and let it unravel. It fell to the floor and kept going. “You’re all on there. I’m thanking all of you.”
Flint scanned the audience until he found Mollie and Lysander and once he saw them smiling, he felt calmer.
“I know a lot of you will be wondering what I’ve been up to for the last eight months. Writing my autobiography? Coming out of an addiction to drugs, or alcohol or sex? I haven’t been writing a book. Nor have I been in rehab. I’m not addicted to drugs, alcohol and sex, but don’t ask me to give the last up.” A ripple of laughter spread around the room.
“I’m going to tell you the truth. The speech I should be making is not the one I’m going to make. My publicist, his name is on that list, Ryker, great guy, worth every penny—have I said enough?” he called and Ryker shot him the finger.
“So, this is not the speech I should be making because I have a different story to tell. From this point, I speak with no rehearsal. These words will come from my heart.”
The audience fell silent, as if they knew something important was coming.
“Last July I had a stroke.”
He heard people gasp but kept his gaze on Mollie and Lysander, his rocks.
“Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t understand. Couldn’t read. Couldn’t write. Never been so sc…scared…in my life. Thought I’d slipped into a p…p…parallel dime…dimer…dimension. Had to learn to talk again. You can hear that I’m still learning. Speech th…therapist called Joe…Rothman helped me, but there are two other people I have to thank.
“I met Mollie when she tripped over a boa…con…constrictor. Not a joke. Not my boa constrictor.” He patted his pants. That won him a laugh. “She’s the best teacher in the world. Usually teaches little kids. I was a…big challenge. And Lysander Weldon, b…brilliant artist, made me keep trying when I wanted to stop. They wouldn’t let me give up. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be standing here.” He started to clap and everyone joined in.
He could see Mollie was trying not to cry. Lysander had his arm around her.
“Last word,” Flint said. “Love. Not a word I’ve had to say in a script or in real life. Didn’t want to. Wasn’t sure what it meant. Frightened of it until something happened to me that was more frightening. Gave me pass…pers…perspective. Thought love would be like a…truck hitting me but…crept up on me. Love found me when I wasn’t looking for it, when I didn’t know how much I needed it. Now I understand why we all look for it and keep looking until we find it because love…burns and…dazzles. Love is wonder and awe. Love is the reason we don’t give in. And I am the luckiest man in the…world because I have the love of two people who complete my world. Thank you for this award.”
He walked off the stage to tumultuous applause, straight into the arms of Mollie and Lysander. He put his hand on Mollie’s stomach and wanted to cry with happiness. He didn’t care whether people understood the implications of what he’d said. All that mattered was that he and Lysander and Mollie were together forever.
They were a family.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Perfect Trouble
Barbara Elsborg
Excerpt
Chapter One
Damn, I stink.
The sickly scent of Ever Yours, the cheapest perfume she’d been able to find, enveloped Jinx in a thick, suffocating cloud. It had been an hour since she’d sprayed the contents of the bottle over her body and she had the horrible suspicion it was going to take more than a long, hot shower to get rid of it. But it was the best protection she had against being recognized for what she was.
A werewolf.
Lurking in the cover of a large tree in Harrogate’s Stonefall cemetery, she watched as her mother’s coffin was carried toward a mound of earth. Even from a distance of a hundred yards, she knew the six pall bearers were wolves. In fact, the only person in attendance who wasn’t a wolf was the priest. This was the closest she’d been to so many wolves for fifteen years and she felt conflicted, tugged toward her kind yet strangely repelled by them.
If only she’d been able to talk to her mother before she died. There’d been so much she wanted to ask, and now it was too late.
A lump formed in her throat. The last time they’d been together had been on Jinx’s twelfth birthday. Jinx had thought they’d been going to the cinema and instead, her mother had taken her to the train station and handed her a heavy backpack containing gold and a purse with a hundred pounds.
“Buy a ticket to somewhere you’d like to live,” she’d said. “Destroy the ticket when you arrive. Don’t tell me where you end up. Hide the gold until you’re older. Give yourself a new name. You can’t be Lizzie Cole anymore. Don’t tell anyone anything about where you came from. You have to start living as another person from this point.”
Jinx had stared at her in bewildered horror, but her mother had held firm against her pleas for them both to run.
“You can only be safe without me. I’m too easy to track. You’re not. Not yet. Never look for me, but remember I’ll always love you. You’ll never leave my heart.”
And her mother had stayed in Jinx’s heart too, which was why she’d had to come today.
The priest’s voice carried across to where Jinx stood. “We therefore commit her body to the ground—earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust—in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.”
Jinx swallowed hard, but the lump didn’t shift. What did ‘certain hope’ mean? How could hope be certain? She didn’t believe in another life. She didn’t believe in God because if he existed, she wouldn’t have had to spend all these years away from the one person who loved—Jinx froze as one of the wolves swiveled round. He looked directly at her and sniffed.
Oh hell. David Morrison, the alpha, who’d hardly changed in fifteen years. Tall, dark haired, with lots of muscle, and a complete bastard, he was the reason Jinx had been sent away. She knew at the precise moment their gazes collided, that coming anywhere near him had been a mistake. She hoped it wasn’t the biggest one of her life.
But then, he returned his attention to the grave. Jinx exhaled and calm returned. He couldn’t have recognized her. The last time he’d seen her she’d been a twelve-year-old shrimp with long brown hair. She sighed. Okay. I’m still safe. But the fact that this was a mistake hadn’t changed. What was the point of a final goodbye to someone who could no longer hear her? Her mother knew she loved her. Distance couldn’t break that bond, nor could death.
The pack home in Derbyshire where she’d lived with her mother had burned down within a few weeks of Jinx leaving. She’d sat in children’s home miles away watching the blazing mansion on the TV news, relieved no casualties had been reported. But she had no way of knowing where the pack had gone after that. Too many questions might have brought trouble to her door. Though she’d quietly searched over the years, hoping to at least reassure herself that her mother was happy, but found no trace until a week ago. She’d broken down in tears when she’d seen the article in the newspaper about her mother’s death and the time and date of her funeral.
She should have mourned without leaving her home, but instead she’d done expressly what she’d been told not to do all those years ago—she’d come back. Her wolf had persuaded her to come, and for once, she’d not questioned why. Now she did. The quicker she left the better.
Yes, her wolf responded.
Bit bloody late now.
Get out of here.
Okay, okay, we’re going.
“Bye, Mum,” she whispered.
She slipped away from the tree and headed down the path toward the gates. Hopefully her taxi still waited outside.
Two big guys in dark suits, both wolves, moved onto the track ahead and Jinx forced herself not to falter but to
keep walking. Her attention snagged on their leather gloves. On a summer’s day? That wasn’t good.
“You a friend of Sonia’s?” one of the men asked as she approached. “You’re welcome to come to the house for the wake. We can give you a lift.” He sniffed and recoiled.
Good. “I’m not here for a funeral. Sorry if I intruded. I’m doing a research project on World War Two cemeteries.” Jinx smiled and kept walking, willing her heart not to race, her wolf to stay calm.
Another guy stepped out of nowhere to block her path. She thought about running, she even thought about shifting, but went for confused human instead and frowned. “Excuse me.” She sidestepped and when he moved the same way, she forced out a chuckle. “Oops.”
Before she could try again, arms wrapped around her from behind and squeezed hard. She kicked back and was rewarded with a yelp but not freedom.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, struggling to get free and losing her purse in the process. “Help! Someone help me!”
She elbowed Thug One and as he gasped, she squirmed free, only to be caught by Thugs Two and Three. Jinx was strong and fast, but stood no chance against three mature male wolves. While two held her, the other grabbed her by the hair and fastened a silver collar around her neck. The drain on her strength was instantaneous, as if a tap had been turned on and all her blood drained out. As they let her go, she collapsed onto all fours. Get up. Get out of there. Run, yelled her wolf. But even pushing to her feet took huge effort. The silver siphoned up her energy like a sponge.
We have to get away, her wolf urged and she set off on a shaky route across the grass only to be yanked to a halt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a man snapped.
When he pulled her round, she found herself facing David Morrison. Her wolf began to growl and Jinx shushed it.
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