by Jess Bentley
“Isn’t he though?” I interrupt, gliding forward and taking Silas's elbow. As far as anyone knows, I am a preacher's wife: committed, devoted, and practically pristine.
Little do they know. I’m not sure everybody would approve of our lifestyle choices.
“Yes, yes, yes,” the senator says wearily. “Listen, I think my wife over there needs a drink. Would you excuse me?”
“Certainly, Jack,” Silas says. He gives him a sarcastic little salute as he walks away, as soon as he can't see us.
“How did the ladies enjoy their tour?” Silas asks, his voice a sexy murmur that sends chills through me.
“Impressed,” I happily reply. “They love what we have done with the place.”
“As they should,” he smiles. “Daniel was happy. Senator Kenilworth seems satisfied too. I think we’re solid from here on out.”
“So, that's good, right?” I whisper, enjoying our private moment in the midst of all these people. We are still connected, like there’s a live wire between us. “We can keep going?”
“We can keep going, little Angel,” he murmurs into my hair. “In fact, we should be able to open the new space even sooner. Fifty beds. Can you imagine that?”
I really can't. We've gone from five foster children, now to fifty more? We’re really doing it. Making a difference.
It's perfect.
“So, can I steal you away, just for a second? Remember, I asked you?”
“Oh!” he gasps. “I'm so sorry. I got stuck with him for way too long. Yeah, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“This way…”
I tug him by the hand, drawing him back through the glittering groups of people drinking their martinis, listening to the swanky jazz band in the corner. I love the way my silk gown swishes around my legs, flowing up behind me like flower petals. It's wonderful.
I still keep mostly to bare feet, because I never really learned how to walk in heels. But somehow bare feet are trendy around here. People think I'm quirky, like some kind of religious hippie, they assume. I get away with not wearing shoes, at least in the house. Sometimes at parties if they’re nice enough.
I get away with a lot of things. Everything I could possibly want.
I open the door to our bedroom, and Owen turns around when he hears us. Softly, I close the door again and lock it. This is our sanctuary. No one can see in, and no one can hear us through the soundproofing. The housekeeper doesn’t even clean in here. I do it myself. It keeps me grounded.
It’s just us. Safe and sound. Separated from everyone who would want to criticize or judge us.
Owen’s tux coat is across the custom-made, extra large bed. The top four buttons of his shirt are undone. He raises his glass, a tall sparkling water with a twist of lemon. He hasn’t had a drop of alcohol since we got here. He says I am the only drug he needs.
Isn’t he sweet?
“Okay. I wanted to talk to both of you.”
Silas shifts away from me, his eyes dark with concern. I love how he always thinks of me first, always looking out for me.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m perfectly all right.”
Owen walks over to us. He looks me up and down with the same sort of concern. I puff up my chest with pride and allow them to inspect me. I hope they never stop.
“Well, you know how I told you have been working on something…” I tease, just sort of giving another hint. I love to see the frustration in their expressions.
“Go on,” Father Daddy prods.
“It's not another foster house, is it?” Owen rolls his eyes. “I think we might be just about maxed out, don't you? We can't give beds to absolutely everybody, you know. We have to work up to it.”
I nod seriously, like I'm considering it.
“Well… you may have a point.”
“Oh, Angel, I hope you're kidding! Another foster house? Really?”
I pout, looking between each of them, drawing the moment out as long as possible. “Well, I mean… I guess Owen has a point about there not being enough beds…”
“There really aren't,” he insists.
“Well, then... how about a crib?”
They look at each other. Some silent communication passes between them. I just wait.
“A crib for what?”
I stare back at Silas. “What are cribs usually for?”
The realization dawns on both of them at the same time. I love to watch it. It's like the sun coming through the clouds. It's like seeing a parade at the end of the block, just as it turns into view.
“No way!”
“Are you for real?”
I nod happily, just about to burst with excitement.
“You're going to be fathers!”
They look at each other again. Owen pipes up first.
“Do we know whose…” Owen asks delicately.
“Does it matter?” Silas challenges.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Owen admits. “Well, you can change the diapers. You do like to be in the thick of things, right, Silas?”
Silas claps Owen in a big bear hug, squeezing until I hear his joints cracking.
“I'll take the diapers if you get up at 3 o'clock in the morning every day to feed the little rascal, sound good?”
“No way! You know I need my beauty sleep!”
“Okay, okay, okay,” I say, with my hands up. “There will be enough work for both of you, I promise. But that's up to me. It’s my job. I decide what gets done and who does it. Deal?”
I look at both of them seriously, pointing with my index finger so they know I really mean it.
“Well… no, I don't know —”
“I'm the boss. I'm the woman. And in this, you both answer to me, understand?”
They both dip their heads, going hangdog and obedient. I love it, this feeling of power pulsing through me. They both love me so much. I think they'll do anything to make me happy. And I’ll do anything to make our baby happy.
Silas comes closer to me, stroking my shoulders tenderly.
“Whatever you say, Mother Angel,” he murmurs sweetly. His lips cover mine, kissing me slowly with heartfelt tenderness.
I feel Owen's hands snaking across my belly, cupping around the fullness that's there.
“You can't feel it yet, silly,” I whisper. “It's too early.”
“So, the little guy’s just safe in there? Can't feel anything from out here?”
I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean, exactly?”
Owen unbuttons the single button at the back of my dress, sliding the silk off my shoulders at letting it puddle on the floor. Silas's eyes widen as he inspects me hungrily, attuned to the tiny differences in me that already show. My breasts are fuller. My waist is slightly thicker. I don't look pregnant yet, but I do look solid.
He runs his thumbs over my nipples, drawing them into peaks. I arch my back into his touch, thrilled to feel goosebumps washing over me in waves.
“I mean, we don't have to be gentle with you or anything, do we?” Owen asks. I hear the smile in his voice.
“You better not!” I smile back. Gentle, with me? No way. I’m tougher than I look.
Ready to take the challenge, Owen sweeps me up off my feet, clasping me to the front of his body before dropping me in the middle of our enormous bed. Silas dives for the other side, coming up next to me with his hands already stroking me, pinching me, exploring me with this new knowledge. I can hear him growling as he bites the top of my neck, his kisses trailing down to my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple hungrily. The snarl that rumbles through his chest is desperate, inspired by the life inside me.
“I want to be inside you, now,” Owen growls. He takes my lips in his, his tongue pushing past my teeth, filling my mouth. I suck at it hungrily, overwhelmed with lust for my men.
Heaving himself to his feet, Owen’s fingers work quickly to unbutton his shirt and he almost tears it off, revealing those perfectly sculpted muscles, lit from behind by the
last rays of sunlight. His pants slide from his narrow hips to the floor, freeing his beautiful, thick manhood.
“Wait for me, brother!” Silas commands him, but Owen pretends not to hear. He pulls my legs open while Silas rushes to disrobe, then leaves close in a messy heap on the floor.
“I can't wait,” Owen sighs, his mouth covering mine again as his cock slides against me. I'm already wet and wanting, ready to be filled with more of him. I spread my legs, angling up onto my side as Silas comes up behind me.
But he does wait. He gives Silas another three seconds so that they can both enter me at the same time. This is what they love, the feeling of their cocks plunging into the center of me at the very same time, one in front and one in back. My body is crushed between them, all of our flesh fitting together like we were formed from the same clay.
I cry out, overwhelmed by this transcendent sensation. My body is rocked back and forth by both of them, thrusting in unison, filling me more than I ever thought that I could be filled. Completing me.
Explosions burst behind my eyelids and I cling desperately to my men, shuddering with wave after wave of bliss that rockets through me, threatening to shatter me into a million pieces. But I don't shatter. Instead, I am made complete.
Owen roars into my mouth as he comes, hilting himself at the same time as Silas, as they both fill me with their hot, thick seed. Our bodies slide together, slippery from sweat and lust, until finally we just lay, panting, confused and awash in the joy that our love has brought together.
As the sun goes down, I can see the shimmering lights coming up from the pool and remember we have a house full of guests to attend to. I need to get dressed again, gather myself, and somehow leave this room without smiling in bliss and triumph. Everyone will know, somewhere in the back of their minds. Though hardly anyone would believe it from a little church mouse like me, this is my secret life.
It all worked out. Life has a funny way of coming together. Like we have. Now that we have found each other, everything is perfect.
WHEN LOVE IS SHOT WITH INK AND WEARS SPURS
Chastity
I thought I had it all: a new husband, a baby on the way, and a love that was meant to be. At least, everyone kept telling me my life was perfect.
When it all came crashing down, I ran. As far as I could.
Who’d have thought the one thing to save me would be bucking a cowboy called Wrecker?
Kanen
It’s lonely at the top.
Especially when you come from rock bottom.
I gave up on a love that lasts a lifetime. Gold diggers, fame wh*res, I just took what I was offered.
At least until I met the girl with the sweet curves and the kind eyes. The one who accepted me for who - and what - I am, not for the fame or the money. The one who might give me my second chance.
Or will she run away again?
Bucked is a steamy standalone novel with a HEA ending, a satisfying epilogue, and NO CLIFFHANGERS!
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Acknowledgements
Thank you for reading Beauty and the Beasts, and enjoy the bonuses!
Copyright © 2017 Jess Bentley
About The Author
Jess Bentley is a contemporary romance author who adores writing about adventurous young women — and the hot sexy men who love them. She spends her days reading and writing, tending to her flower garden and growing vegetables, as well as playing the guitar.
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Copyright © 2017 Jess Bentley
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