by Abby Blake
He couldn’t quite explain what it was, but he knew for certain that it wasn’t a casual, sexual relationship that he sought with Mikayla. Listening to Ty go on and on about her for the two weeks they’d been working at the substation—affectionately known as the Ice Shack because of its poor heating—had made him ache to hold the woman between them. The weeks back at the main facility since had solidified his feelings.
It wasn’t that he knew Mikayla well, but he did know his brothers and, like Ty said, Matt and John were getting more and more attached to the woman. Since getting back to the main station, it was obvious that Lachlan and Brock had fallen under her spell also.
Selfishly, Ryan had wanted in, wanted to be a part of that something special that he could see growing between Mikayla and his brothers. But he knew Ty well enough to see that he felt reluctant to get involved. Not because he didn’t want Mikayla himself, but because he didn’t want to overwhelm her with the attentions of all seven of them.
Ryan moved to collect his and Ty’s clothes off the floor. He should feel guilty for convincing Ty to join in the “fun” when Ryan knew it was far more, but once Ty had made love to Mikayla, Ryan knew Ty would never let her go. Now he just needed to convince Mikayla to stay.
* * * *
Ty carried the sleeping woman back to his quarters, holding her tightly against his heart. He never should’ve made love to her. Just the thought that she would leave them when the twelve months was up filled him with dread.
She smiled sleepily as he lowered her to his bed.
“Ty,” she said as she grabbed his hand to stop him from walking away, “stay with me, please.”
He managed to mumble a positive answer, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him say more. Just the fact that Mikayla knew who he was, even with her eyes closed, sent something deep into his soul.
Ryan and Ty had often been considered by women as interchangeable—same looks, same job, similar personalities—but Mikayla was different. She saw them separately. Saw their differences and their similarities and had never treated them as anything less than two individuals. She was so special. How could he ever let her go?
* * * *
“Hey, Mik.”
Peter tried to sound casual as he entered the kitchen, but it was kind of hard when the woman he’d found himself falling for was bent over trying to see into the oven. He desired her with a passion that bordered on insanity, but he held back, wanting more—needing more—than she claimed willing to give. From the beginning Mikayla had said it was just fun, just scratching an itch. She was probably even living her fantasy, but she’d made it more than clear she’d move on when it was over.
But Peter wanted more.
He needed the fairytale, the love, the whole package.
All of his brothers were having sex with her. Over the weeks, Peter had watched them good-naturedly vying for her attention and growing more and more attached to the beautiful woman. But there had never actually been any fighting over her. Peter had never really thought a relationship with so many men and only one woman would work.
So far, he’d been proven wrong.
But then, they all claimed to just be having fun, enjoying Mikayla in bed, not exploring anything serious. Maybe they said so out loud, but he knew his brothers well enough to see they were falling for her.
If only he knew what went on in Mikayla’s head, too.
“Today’s my sort of anniversary,” she said as she pulled a massive chocolate cake from the oven, “so I thought we might have a celebration.”
“Oh?” he asked, wondering what she referred to.
“Three months since I met you,” she said with her back turned.
She seemed very interested in her cake, but he wondered if she was avoiding looking at him for a reason. He hadn’t registered that it had been such a short time, and he shook his head when he realized it felt like she’d always been here with them, that he’d always ached for her.
“So have you given any thought to what you might do when you leave here?”
She shrugged but kept her back to him, and a small kernel of hope sizzled in his brain. If she was falling for his brothers, maybe she would learn to love him, too. He swallowed hard as his head filled with images of the future he wanted.
“How long to dinner?” he asked as a plan formed in his brain.
She glanced over her shoulder in his general direction, but he didn’t get a good look at her face before she turned to check the timer on the stove.
“About forty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll let the others know.”
* * * *
The evening meal was always a loud affair with so many people talking at once. The brothers always teased and ribbed each other over the slightest things, and she laughed at their silliness. Despite the fact that they were all over thirty, there were times when they acted like a bunch of teenagers. Tonight was especially loud, and she laughed at their antics and threatened to never make chocolate cake again.
For some reason, Peter seemed on edge. Over the last three months, she’d managed to build a friendship with him that was just as close as those she shared with his brothers. The only difference was that she’d never been in his bed. At first, she’d encouraged him to join the fun—that’s all it was, no matter how much she dreamed of more—but had soon realized how much the woman he’d been engaged to had hurt him. Mikayla had backed away from a sexual relationship at that point, but she’d often wondered how he coped with being snowed in. It wasn’t like he could jump a shuttle and visit town.
She grabbed a handful of plates and headed into the kitchen, unsurprised when Peter did the same and followed her. It had become a bit of a ritual. Even though the others had offered, she and Peter did the dishes every night together. It was a little thing, but she enjoyed talking to him about his day while the others talked in the other room.
Halfway through cleaning up, the dining room went suspiciously quiet, and Mikayla wandered in to find the room completely empty. Usually, she had one or more of her men waiting to whisk her off to bed, often for sex but occasionally just to hold her while she slept. Sleeping beside Matt or John or in between Ryan and Ty or Brock and Lachlan had become so routine that none of them had even bothered to find her a bed of her own.
It might’ve bothered some women—not having a space to call their own—but Mikayla found it strangely satisfying knowing that she was wanted in their beds. Except that tonight, they’d all left. Usually, they chose who she would spend the night with, and she’d been happy to go along with their system. It took a lot of work keeping so many relationships running smoothly, even if it was just about the sex.
But tonight it seemed they’d left her with Peter, even knowing he was the one brother she’d never slept with. She turned to go back into the kitchen and almost bumped into Peter, who’d been quietly standing behind her.
“Disappointed?” he asked her quietly.
“What about?” she asked as she tried to rationalize the situation.
Maybe whomever she was supposed to spend the night with had gone to the bathroom or back to his office or lab to get something. There could be a million reasons why she’d been left alone.
“That I asked them to let us spend some time alone,” he answered as he placed his hands on her hips and rubbed his thumbs over her pelvic bone. She practically melted at the gentle touch as she realized what he was saying. “Mikayla, will you spend the night with me?”
She was nodding and smiling even before she threw her arms around him and peppered kisses along his jaw. “Yes,” she mumbled, and his hands slid around her and pulled her close.
God, as selfish as it sounded, Mikayla had mourned that she wouldn’t share the same type of relationship with Peter as she did with the others. Somehow, her fantasy wasn’t quite whole without that final connection. But now things felt complete.
Peter kissed her reverently, sipping at her lips, caressing her face with his warm fingers. When he pulled
away, he smiled into her eyes and then led her back into the kitchen. She laughed as he guided her to the sink, and, together, they finished doing the dishes.
Finally, the last dish was washed and put away, and he grabbed her hand, threading his fingers through hers and rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles as they walked side by side to his room. She’d never actually seen inside his bedroom but wasn’t surprised by the neat organization.
He led her to the bed, kissing her tenderly as he slowly undid the buttons down the front of her dress. She usually pulled this one straight over her head, but the gentle, fleeting touches of his fingers against her skin made her feel desired and wanted in a way she couldn’t quite describe.
She closed her eyes as he slid the material off her shoulders, and it pooled at her feet. He touched her breasts softly, lifting the sensitive globes to his mouth and worshipping the stiff peaks with his mouth and tongue. She held his head to her breast as gentle waves of heat whispered through her veins.
As he stood to look into her eyes, she helped him undo the buttons on his shirt, pushed it from his shoulders, then slid her hands lower to tackle the fastening on his jeans. They laughed together as she fumbled with the tight clasp, and he helped her to get the stubborn thing undone. Carefully, she pushed his jeans and boxer shorts lower, kneeling at his feet to remove them completely.
She glanced up at his long, thick cock, wondering what he would enjoy. She was about to wrap a hand around his length and kiss the mushroom-shaped head, but he helped her back onto her feet.
She watched as he grabbed a large, fluffy towel and spread it in the middle of the bed. Wondering what on earth he had in mind, she nevertheless followed him when he encouraged her to lie facedown on the bed.
All of his brothers had some sort of kinky preference, so she wasn’t really surprised by his request. She lay still and tried not to wiggle impatiently as he moved around the room collecting some things she couldn’t see. She bit her lip anxiously as some of the more extreme fetishes Brock and Lachlan had described ran through her head.
More than a little nervous, Mikayla jumped when warm oil drizzled over her spine but quickly lay back down at his gentle urging. Kneeling on the bed beside her, Peter used his fingertips to smooth the oil into her skin and massage her tired muscles. His touch was sure and strong and so heavenly that she felt like she melted into the mattress. By the time he reached her left foot and started at the top again, this time on the right side, she was feeling a strange mixture of completely relaxed and totally horny.
She adjusted her position, hoping to press her mound against the bed more fully. Her whole groin felt numb with her arousal, and she shivered as he patted her bottom and asked her to roll onto her back.
He started the massage over, beginning with her shoulders and arms, down to her hands and fingers. He smoothed the oil over every sensitized inch, and she writhed against the bed, wanting more, wanting him. Slowly, his hands worked their way down her abdomen, dipping to the crease at the top of her thighs and then moving lower to her knees and calves. She giggled when he tickled her toes and then groaned as he gently eased her legs apart and moved between them.
He leaned over her, kissing her sweetly, possessing her thoroughly with his gentle touch. She gasped as his cock pressed against her opening and sighed when he slid into her heat, touching her womb, touching her heart.
His intense gaze captured her more thoroughly than rope or bindings ever could, and she closed her eyes as tears threatened to fall. He loved her with his whole body, kissing her, touching her, pleasuring her in ways she’d never understood. His simple touch built the tension inside her just as rapidly, just as hotly as anything else she’d experienced in the last three months.
She gasped as her orgasm pulsed through her, the walls of her pussy fluttering against his thick cock, his deep groan of satisfaction just as fulfilling as a shouted climax.
As they held on to each other, Peter kissed her neck, her face, her eyes. He worshipped her, and she felt a lump in her throat form at his tenderness. She felt cherished and cared for and completely loved. Every move, every action was filled with emotion, and she cried a little harder at the thought.
It felt so real.
But it wasn’t real. It was just an illusion. She was the substitute for the woman Peter loved. Mikayla was just the girl his brothers fucked. There was no emotion involved. They were having fun, nothing serious. Nobody was falling in love with anyone.
But that final lie didn’t fool her because one person had fallen completely, totally, irrevocably in love—her.
She loved all of them.
Matt with his hero complex and kind heart. John with his mismatched sense of order and fun. Brock for his intuition and caring and Lachlan for his intense protection. Ryan for his crazy sense of adventure and Ty for his undisciplined approach to life. And Peter for his gentle, unassuming acceptance.
“Mikayla?” Peter asked, sounding so concerned that she cried even harder.
He rolled off her, and she wanted to cry buckets at the loss, but she tried to drag the emotions back under control. She was hurting him with her reaction and panicking him by not explaining.
The cowardly part of her demanded she flee his intense scrutiny.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she rolled off the bed, grabbed her dress, and fled the room. She heard him call out, but she kept moving, wanting to outrun her own emotions, needing to hide from all of the brothers to lick her wounds and shore up her defenses.
She made it all the way to Ryan and Ty’s lab, but instead of finding the solitude she sought, she found instead the other six brothers. A moment later, Peter came through the doorway behind her.
All seven of the men she loved in one room. How lucky could a girl get? Except that she wasn’t lucky. She swallowed hard, not knowing what to do now.
“I want to go home,” she blurted out, raising a hand to stop them as they moved toward her. She shook her head, frantically taking a step back but bumping into Peter behind her. She jumped like a scalded cat and sidestepped him before he could wrap his arms around her.
She could see the silent communication going on between them. She probably even understood what they were asking, but she needed space, needed time, and she couldn’t answer their unasked questions.
“I want to go home,” she repeated, her hands shaking as she tried to find escape.
“Why?” Peter asked. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the confusion on his face, but he stepped up to her, crowding her against the bench, his kind expression belying his aggressive stance. “Why do you need to go home, Mikayla?” He held his hand up to stop one of his brothers—she didn’t see who—from trying to come closer. “Why, Mikayla?”
“Because I love you,” she said to Peter. When he looked pleased, she felt lower than a slug. He needed to know the truth. “But,” she said swallowing hard, “I love Matt and John and Ryan and Ty and Brock and Lachlan just as much as I love you.”
He touched her face, and tears slid down her cheeks once more.
“I know,” he said in a confident voice. He tilted his head toward his brothers. “So do they.”
She glanced over miserably and was surprised to find them all smiling.
“We love you, Mikayla. Please don’t go home without us.”
Her tears fell even faster now. Either she was having a very strange dream or she was completely delusional. How could seven brothers all fall in love with her? As much as she wanted to believe, it seemed too incredible to be true.
She found herself enveloped in Peter’s arms as each of the men she loved took their turn kissing her and repeating the words she’d never thought she hear from anyone. “I love you.”
Epilogue
Waiting in the customs area of the spaceport on Earth, Mikayla sighed with a mixture of annoyance and relief as Lachlan maneuvered her onto a seat and lifted her feet into his lap. With strong fingers, he massaged the ball of her foot exactly where it
was aching. She’d spent far too much time on her feet today, but she wanted everything to be perfect.
After nearly a year living with and loving the men of her most intimate dreams, she was finally going to meet her in-laws. Three fathers, two mothers, and seven sons all in the one room was more than a little daunting.
What if her parents-in-law didn’t like her?
She groaned as Lachlan’s heavenly touch did its magic, and her tension started to dissolve. She’d just spent twelve months holding on to her independence while surrounded by men willing to coddle, protect, and pamper her. If she was able to refuse their loving but unnecessary attentions, she would be able to handle anything her in-laws had to offer.
“Can I sit here?” The quiet question came from an attractive young woman.
“Of course,” Mikayla said as she sat up a little straighter.
“Thank you.” The woman practically collapsed into the seat beside Mikayla. “I’ve been so busy getting everything organized. It feels wonderful just to sit for a moment.”
“Organized for what?” Mikayla asked curiously. She hadn’t realized how much she missed occasional conversations with someone she wasn’t married to.
“I’m getting married,” the woman said. Mikayla glanced at the ring on her own finger, smiling at the seven identical gemstones set in a circle—one stone for each husband. “It was so fast,” the woman gushed as her excitement bubbled over. “We only met three weeks ago, but he swept me off my feet, and now we’re going to travel and see all the worlds I’ve read about but never thought I’d be able to visit.”
Mikayla’s breath jammed in her throat, her heart starting to pound as the familiarity of the woman’s story.
“W–what’s his name? Your fiancé?” she asked, feeling pretty silly. Just because Jet had been an asshole it didn’t mean every man was. She had seven very good reasons to believe that.
