Butler, Reece - 1 Bed, 2 Weddings, 3 Husbands [Bride Train 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “That what the nightmares are about?”

  “Don’t know. I’ve only heard them. You’ve lived them.”

  “You know what they did to me.”

  It was a statement, so Clint didn’t answer. A light flashed, and thunder cracked right over their heads. Jed scrabbled back into the cave like an animal. Rumbles faded as Clint’s eyesight got over the sudden blindness.

  “Shit.” Jed’s wavering voice came out of the deep part of the cave. “I hate thunderstorms. They make so much noise you can’t hear yourself even if you scream.”

  The light that blinded Clint came from inside this time. Jed was right. If you live in a tent, everyone can hear what you say. But when you beat a child during a thunderstorm, with the rain pounding down and frightened children crying, no one can hear. And no one would know the upstanding preacher and his perfect wife beat their oldest child?

  “Nobody heard you, Jed.” Clint made his voice just loud enough to be heard. “You were only a child. These were your parents. You knew it was wrong, and you tried to get help, but nobody heard.”

  “What shit are you talking about?” Jed’s harsh words blasted out.

  “They screamed that you were the son of Satan, the devil’s child. That you were born from sin and Lucifer would drag you down into hell to roast for eternity. The whole time, your father beat you with his shepherd’s staff. His mark of faith.”

  “No.” Clint barely heard Jed’s whisper of denial.

  “They always put up a tent when they visited Grandpa Fortune, never wanting to share the cabin with the others. This night, with the storm threatening, they let my mother and father take the little ones inside. But the storm got worse, and my father came out to get you. He heard you screaming and figured you were terrified. But he heard your father’s words. He heard something thud. And then he heard you scream like to die.”

  Jed whipped his head back and forth in denial. The whites of his dark eyes reflected the fire.

  “Father ripped that tent open. Your mother held a lantern high, waving it back and forth. You were curled in a ball, your father holding that staff above his head, about to smash you again. My father grabbed it and broke it over your father’s shoulders. He carried you from the tent and brought you home. I was only four, and asleep with your younger brothers. Father and Mother moved them down by the kitchen fire and brought you in. I woke up when I heard you whimpering in pain. At first I thought you were a puppy.”

  Beside Clint Jed moaned, but he couldn’t stop talking.

  “That’s the only time I ever saw my daddy cry. Tears rolled down his face, Momma’s too. They washed the blood off you, bandaged you up, and slid you into bed next to me. I remember looking up at Momma. She whispered that even though you were older, I had to be the big boy now, because you needed a brother to protect you.”

  Clint wiped his eyes. He stared at the fire, blurry from the tears that wouldn’t stop leaking. He rubbed his knuckles between his ribs to relieve his tight chest. His throat hurt, and he tried to swallow the bile that threatened to come up.

  “And that, my brother, is why you hate thunderstorms.”

  Another crack erupted as lightning flashed right over them. Clint jumped. His head banged against the rock ledge above. He yelled out in pain. He couldn’t tell if he saw stars or the reverse of the lightning flash on the inside of his eyeballs. As if on cue, the skies opened. If there was more thunder, Clint didn’t hear it over the pounding rain. After a few minutes the intense outburst moved on, leaving a steady rain.

  “Damn! That hurts.” Clint took off his hat and rubbed the sore spot. Jed nudged his shoulder and held out the bottle. Clint nodded his thanks, unscrewed the top, and took a glug. Jed yanked it from him in mid swallow and finished it off as Clint choked the stinging liquor down his raw throat.

  They sat there shoulder to shoulder, two brothers together, as the storm moved on. Clint wouldn’t move for fear of shutting Jed down from his memories. It was bad enough telling the story. Remembering living it would be far worse. But the skeleton was out of the closet. It was up to Jed whether he shoved it back in, or blew it up and moved forward.

  “Hope some of those chancres were on his cock and balls.” Jed cleared his throat and shuffled his seat. “That would have been justice.”

  “Bet the Doc heated up a poker red hot and made him drop his pants,” said Clint. He looked at Jed out of the corner of his eyes and took a chance on a grin.

  “Made him hold his own cock out for a sizzle. Burn that sin right out of his skin.” Jed shoved his shoulder against Clint. “That why I hate preachers, too?”

  “Don’t ask me. You’re the one with the nightmares.” Clint shoved back. “I never could stand even that son of a bitch’s voice, always complaining. Hated the look of him, all beady-eyed and whiskers twitching, like a rat trying to ferret out some stinky cheese.”

  “What about the other one?”

  “Jeez! That woman was a nightmare all by herself,” said Clint, hamming it up a bit to keep it light because he was talking about Jed’s mother. “She’d pinch my ear if I looked at her sideways. Got so bad I asked Momma if I could wear my ear-flap hat whenever the witch came by. Momma said she’d make me a special one, all red and black with pointy horns on top.”

  Jed swatted Clint in the back of the head. “Aunt Chrissie never did no such thing!”

  “Ow! I just banged my head and now you’re whapping me on it!”

  “Don’t be a crybaby.” Jed gave a huge pout, sticking out his lips like Riley did when he first arrived on Grandpa Fortune’s farm.

  “I need a piss,” said Clint. He shuffled out from under the overhang and stood.

  “For God’s sake, don’t put out the fire this time.”

  “You mean when we all got likkered up on that white lightning you bought from the traveling wagon?”

  Clint laughed in memory. They knew to cut it with water so they didn’t go blind, but went too far. They drank so much water they kept pissing, so they made a contest to see who could pee the most. Clint won, but he almost put out the fire doing it. It was a proud accomplishment for a thirteen-year-old boy. Ten years older, he let loose into the rain, sighed in relief, and buttoned up. Jed took over, making his stream go farther before it touched ground, showing off. They added wood to the fire and sat once more.

  “I had a bigger cock than you even back then,” boasted Clint after a moment.

  “Wrong, boyo. My cock’s not only bigger, I know what to do with it.”

  With Victoria. Her name silently settled over them, bringing them back to the present. They both stared into the fire for a while. Jed groaned and wiped his face.

  “You think she’ll take me back?”

  “You plan to marry her in front of a preacher this time?”

  Jed hugged his knees and dropped his head on them. When he looked up the fire picked up the sheen in his eyes. The rain had slowed to a gentle patter.

  “I will do anything and everything to keep that ornery, cantankerous, beautiful, sexy woman in my life.”

  Clint nodded at Jed’s hoarse promise. “Good. Because if you were too stupid to marry her the way she wants, I was going to do it.”

  Jed drew back his head and snorted. “You?”

  “Better me than Riley!”

  Jed laughed. Clint, relieved to hear his brother and best friend finally free, joined in.

  “You know where Riley is tonight?” asked Jed.

  “If he’s following my orders, he’s sleeping with Victoria. On her floor!” Clint put up his hands to slow the fist that Jed held up. The other hand had grabbed his collar. “I told him to make sure she was safe.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?” Jed, eyes narrow, growled the words.

  Clint yanked back. Jed released him. He resettled his coat on his shoulders, taking his time as Jed fumed.

  “If Smythe’s in town, I don’t know what he’d do.”

  Jed stared at him, jaw clenching. “If Smythe’s in town
, what the hell are we doing here?”

  “I told Riley to find out what skeletons Victoria has in her closet. Now that we’ve cleaned yours out, we can go help him.”

  Clint sat back and enjoyed being dry while Jed took care of the bedrolls. Then he brought the horses in, wiped them off and saddled them up.

  “Why the hell aren’t you helping?” blasted Jed when he noticed Clint hadn’t moved.

  “Figured you had a few kinks to shake out. If you’re ready to ride, I’ll take care of the fire.”

  Jed grunted. Clint took that as a yes and got to work. Twenty minutes later they approached their house. Since they had their cattle back, they had to check the herd as well as do evening chores. It was halfway through the night when they continued on to town. A few stars and a sliver of moon lit their way. Just before they rode into Tanner’s Ford, Jed turned to Clint.

  “I am going to whip your ass.”

  “You can try, brother,” taunted Clint. “But I’m four inches taller and my fist can reach a lot farther.”

  “It never stopped me before. Race you!”

  Clint laughed and kicked his horse into a gallop. Jed was going to be fine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Riley snuck in through Victoria’s open window while she was in the privy. Smythe was still at Mrs. Emslow’s boardinghouse. From the noise Riley heard as he walked past, both men were well into their cups. Maybe Smythe would be too drunk to stagger home, especially since he’d never slept in the house before.

  A thin pallet was laid on the floor near the wall. Victoria was using an empty crate to store her few things and to keep the candle safely off the floor. He hunkered down on the far side of the door, took off his boots, and waited in the dark.

  She came in a few minutes later, her skirts skimming the floors since she’d removed her boots. She set her candle on the crate, shut the window, and then drew the curtain. Riley cleared his throat. She gasped and flattened against the wall.

  “It’s just me, Riley,” he whispered.

  She slumped for a moment before turning furious. “What are you doing here? I told you to go. If Mr. Smythe comes in—”

  “That‘s why I’m here, Victoria. To stop him from coming in.” He looked up at her, speaking calmly and quietly. What he wanted to do was haul her into his arms, tell her she was safe, and kiss her. “I’m going to sleep on the floor by your door. Smythe’s so drunk he couldn’t hit the floor with his hat. I heard him getting drunk with that newspaperman at Mrs. Emslow’s. He could stay there with Hames, or come back here. If he does, and tries to hurt you, I’ll stop him.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Thank you. I was worried…”

  He rolled to his feet and folded her into his arms. She was warm, trembling, and smelled so good he inhaled as deep as he could. She clung to him just as hard.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he sighed into her hair.

  They stood there for a moment, slightly rocking. He kissed her head, inhaling the rose scent of her soap. He nibbled the side of her neck. She dropped her head to the side and sighed. He continued small kisses around to her throat. She had a few buttons undone, so he worked his way across her damp skin. Her collarbone required a bit of work, since he’d not made acquaintance with it for days. When his lips touched the smooth skin above her breasts, he was glad he’d taken the time to shave.

  Her breath hitched, that slight feminine sound that meant only one thing. He turned her just enough for his hand to reach her breast. Her nipple pressed into his palm, fighting to escape the layers of cotton. He grasped it between his thumb and fingers. She arched into him.

  “I want you, Victoria.” Riley kept his hand busy on her breast as he spoke. “I want to slowly undress you and touch you everywhere with my tongue and fingers.” He dropped his other hand to her bottom. He caressed her cheek through her skirts.

  “I want to spread your legs and kiss your clit. To suck and lick and finger you. I’ll bring you almost there, and then start over. Each time will bring you higher. I want to pleasure you, again and again, until you beg me to give you release.”

  He kissed her, deep and probing, his tongue showing her what he wanted his cock to do. She took charge, sliding her tongue around his in a wild dance. He was almost out of air when she pulled back, gasping.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He rested his forehead on hers, shuddering in need. A need to give her everything he could, to show her how much he loved her, how much he wanted to be with her for the rest of their lives. This was about Victoria’s pleasure, not his. But giving her pleasure brought more in return than he could ever imagine.

  Riley slowly undressed her with shaking fingers until she stood before him, trembling in her shift. Her hands never left him, touching his head when he knelt to remove her stockings. These ones were soft, a gift to replace the horrid ones she’d arrived in. He inhaled her scent, letting it fill his body. Every moment, every action, could be for the last time. How could he store everything in his memories?

  She fiddled at her hip, and her petticoat dropped to the floor. He moaned and kissed her soft curls. He rested his forehead on her belly, holding her around the waist, and inhaled.

  God, she smelled so good. Her soft, warm skin under his hands felt like satin. How could he live without this?

  He looked up to smile at her. She’d unbuttoned her top, and as he watched, she shrugged it off her shoulders and smiled proudly in return. Her full, swollen breasts glowed in the candlelight. Her nipples made long shadows across her breasts. He nosed between her legs. She moved her feet farther apart, releasing a wave of scent.

  She tilted her pelvis in a silent plea. He sent his tongue between her lips. She was wet, swollen, wanting. He couldn’t go slow! If Smythe returned, he would destroy the moment. He stood, careful not to scrape her delicate skin with his belt buckle.

  “I wanted to go slow, but I can’t,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

  Her hands attacked his clothes, her quick fingers stripping him. She only slowed when she knelt and carefully removed his cock from his pants. She kissed him there, licking off the drops in a way that almost made him come right there. But he wanted to be inside her.

  They sank onto the pallet, Victoria underneath. She spread her legs for him, but though he wanted to thrust into her, claiming her as his, she needed more from him first. He knelt and caught her pussy lips between his own. She tasted so sweet, more like scented honey than the caramel of her hair.

  She hissed when his tongue found her clit. He smiled proudly to himself and investigated it thoroughly. Had it changed at all since the last time? He had to make sure. He didn’t ignore the rest of her pussy, of course. Just when her gasps approached a certain level, he’d lick her slit, swallowing her juices like a cat would a bowl of cream.

  She was so wet his smallest finger easily breached her ass a half inch. That made her gasp. She lifted her bottom off the floor and spread her knees. He couldn’t see well with just one candle, but nothing had ever looked so beautiful as her shining thighs and what was between them.

  No, her face was more beautiful, with glowing eyes, swollen lips, and her mouth open, panting his name, pleading for his cock. He’d tried to ignore that cock, throbbing between his thighs as he bent over to pleasure her. His balls hurt with the need to sink into her and explode together.

  “Now, Riley. Please!”

  She opened her arms to him, begging him to come to her. He couldn’t deny this woman anything. Certainly not pleasure.

  He set his arms on the floor, bracketing her ribs and her bountiful breasts. He kissed each one, sucking her nipples, pressing them against the roof of his mouth. She reached down and grabbed him. His cock jerked in reply. She pulled him toward her, opening her legs and guiding him in.

  He loved that she knew what pleasure he could give her, and demanded it.

  The first few inches always brought exquisite agony. Fighting the need to surge to the hilt and take her hard, h
e slid inside her, his cock spreading her swollen tissues. Every time he entered her, it was as if it was the first time. How could anyone remember this exquisite pleasure? Every part of him touched her, a caress so intimate and joyous that his brain almost exploded just from that first contact.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned. She grabbed his ass in both hands and pulled him deep.

  He filled her to the hilt, and then drew back, just as slowly. He dragged his flesh against hers, angling his cock to rub that rough spot high inside her belly. She shuddered when he hit it. Yes! He drove forward again, still up on his hands. This time he ground his pelvis into her clit. She shuddered and groaned.

  Again, and again, he filled her, slowly torturing them both. She shifted her legs, pulling them together. He had to move his feet to the outside of her hips. His knees touched the floor, and—whoa!—she squeezed his balls with her thighs.

  “What was that?” he gasped.

  His swollen balls ached with a fiery need to go like dynamite. She laughed up at him and pulled his ass cheeks apart to drive him into her again. He leaned forward to nip at her breast, which ground him against her clit even more. He was still in control, barely.

  Then she pressed her finger into his ass, hit something, and kee-rist!

  He looked down at her swollen lips and glazed eyes as he pounded into her with long fast strokes that he had no control over. She arched her back, coming hard. Her pussy clenched him so hard he could barely fit into her. Her breasts jiggled every time he hit bottom, a sight that burned itself into his brain.

  Riley shuddered, suddenly realizing that he had to lie down before his arms collapsed and he fell on her. Panting as if he’d run all the way from the ranch, he went to his elbows, his sweaty chest slick against her. His heart pounded so hard his brain squeaked. His cheeks almost ripped, he was smiling so wide.

  So was Victoria, glorious under him. He got enough control to roll over. It took them off the pallet and onto the chilly floor, but it was welcome against his searing back.

  Now her breasts pillowed on his chest. He hadn’t paid enough attention to them this time. Next time, he’d…