by Renee Rose
He hesitated, torn between following to make sure Mira was okay in there, and giving them space. He opted for space but was reluctant to leave the living room where he could hear everything going on in the bedroom.
Jakk came to stand beside him, arms folded over his chest. The sound of Darley snarling at one of her sisters—that’s not yours, now put it down!—sailed out of the room. Jakk flinched. He knew his brother was as itchy as he was to solve the problem. But neither of them had been very successful at winning the girls’ affection or obedience yet. They probably wouldn’t do much better than Mira.
“Come on.” Jakk bumped his shoulder. “She has to figure it out on her own.”
Reluctantly, he peeled himself away from the room.
“I’m going to leave instructions for meals and chores for tomorrow,” Jakk said, heading to the kitchen. “What did you decide to do about the collar?”
“I will weld it shut. It means we’ll have to break it when we remove it, but at least it will work for the time being. I’ll get some more at work. It’s not ideal, but it will get us through these first few weeks while we feel each other out.”
He helped his brother by pulling out an electronic communication pad/translation device and listing the times things would happen during the day. He wrote in Pra’kirian and it translated his words into the foreign letters it said belonged to inhabitants of Earth. He added the times for leaving and picking up from school, even though the girls wouldn’t be able to return until their rash went away. For chores, he started a list of the basics— washing clothes, scrubbing the bathrooms, cleaning the floors, shaking out rugs, etc.
Jakk planned meals and added the directions to the communication pad. Then they both crept back and peeked into the bedroom.
Darley sat in her bed, arms folded sulkily across her chest.
Mira lay beside Pritzi on the child’s bed, not touching her, arms folded behind her head. “And when Harry received his invitation to Hogwarts, he didn’t know anything about his parents being magic. He thought they’d died in a car accident…” Mira’s voice had a singsong quality as she told a story of some kind.
Jan had her usual withdrawn expression, but she lay facing Pritzi’s bed, eyes on Mira as she spoke.
He backed out before they saw him. Not bad for an introduction. It definitely could’ve been worse. Clearly, Mira had a knack with children.
He just hoped she could work a miracle with these particular children.
Chapter Six
Mira shrieked and cursed as smoke billowed from the dryer. She threw open the door and waved the black plumes away enough to see inside. Fuck. Not a clothes dryer. What the hell was it?
Hearing the snicker of laughter behind her, she whirled and glared at Darley. “This isn’t a clothes dryer, is it?”
The girl had the audacity to cover her mouth and giggle. Jan stood behind her, wide-eyed, and Pritzi shrieked, “Fire!”
“Yeah, I know it’s a fire,” she snapped. “Your sister told me this was a clothes dryer. What is it?” She looked to Jan, but the girl didn’t speak. Jakk and Gav’n said she hadn’t spoken since the day her mother died—poor child.
Pritzi crept closer and peered in. “It’s where mama cooked meat.”
Great. An oven of some sort. Why wasn’t it in the kitchen?
“Well how do you dry your clothes?”
Darley sneered at the burning cloth. “I don’t think they need drying now.”
She drew a deep breath and counted to ten. It was hard not to dislike the girl. For starters, she appeared full-grown—to Mira, anyway. She was nearly the same height and probably weighed more than Mira. It made it easy to expect more from her, as if she were an adult. At least something about Darley’s face still looked childlike—it helped Mira remember Darley was the equivalent of an eleven-year-old on Earth. Just a tween. One who’d recently lost her mom and surely blamed Mira for it.
“Darley, go to your room and don’t come out until I say.”
Apparently that wasn’t a punishment on Pra’kir, because the girl smiled. “Okay,” she said brightly and trotted off. The sound of her entertainment screen turned up loud came filtering back.
Great. She probably was supposed to have limited how much time they watched screens, too. She’d already let them watch them all morning. Getting their rashes cleared up so they could go to school had moved to her highest priority.
She huffed and yanked the singed clothing out of the contraption, dropping the items on the floor when they burned her fingers.
Jan moved in to help, but Mira threw out her arm to hold her back. “Careful, they’re too hot.” The girl’s blank expression killed her. “Thank you, though.”
Pritzi said, “I don’t think we have a clothes dryer, Mira.”
She sighed. “Where and how do you dry your clothes?”
Pritzi grasped her hand and led her to the washing machine. Mira looked around, trying to figure out where the dryer could be. Pritzi pointed at the washer. “This.”
“This is the washing machine, Pritzi. Where do the clothes get dried?”
Pritzi tapped the machine. “In here.”
She narrowed her eyes at the controls, which of course she couldn’t read. Remembering the electronic pad with translated instructions the brothers had left, she went in search of it. Of course, she didn’t know how it worked, and with her luck that day, would probably lose the screen with all their notes to her. Even so, she shifted it around, punching buttons until she managed to take a picture of the control panel.
Bingo!
It rearranged the characters into English. Sure enough, the machine had a “dry” setting. Now, she knew. Too bad, like Darley had said, it was too late for the load she’d already incinerated. Those clothes wouldn’t ever need drying again. But, at least, she’d figured something out on her own.
It seemed being a Pra’kirian housewife was harder than she’d thought.
Breakfast and lunch had been a semi-fiasco. Darley had given her misinformation on how to use what she thought was a microwave but actually was more like a convection oven. Which she had shorted out by turning it up too high with too much inside it. She now had the machine disassembled and in pieces all over the counter as she tried to diagnose the exact problem so she could fix it.
It also meant she’d burned their morning cereal. Fortunately, the girls seemed happy to eat some bright-red berries they’d produced—from where, she hadn’t seen. Darley had even been nice enough to put some on a plate for her to try. They’d tasted sour to her, but the girls seemed to like them, and she wanted to show appreciation for their efforts, so she’d eaten all of them.
Now, though, her belly grumbled as if it hadn’t appreciated the fruit. Which was too bad, because she’d been hoping by sticking mostly to fruit she would be indigestion-free. Looked like she’d be skipping dinner. She sure hoped the guys weren’t going to be as intense as the guard at the prison over her eating habits.
She glanced down to see her two little shadows were still there, watching her every move. Putting them to bed the night before had been interesting. Darley was impossible, but the two younger girls let her tell them a bedtime story. When she realized they didn’t know any of her childhood stories, she’d happily launched into the retelling of one of her favorite ancient book series. She figured she could go for years, retelling the stories she remembered. Pritzi had dropped off to sleep within a few minutes, but Jan had still been listening, so she went on a little longer for her before tucking her in.
She didn’t have little brothers or sisters. She’d never babysat, or even wanted her own children. But she felt responsible for these little girls. Her ship killed their mom. As uncomfortable as caring for them was, she owed it to them to try her best.
She picked up Jan’s arm and examined her hives. “Are these getting worse today?”
The mysterious rashes. The brothers had told her the doctors couldn’t diagnose them and the academy wouldn’t allow them to re
turn until they’d cleared up.
She brushed the pad of her finger over one of the blisters. “Does it hurt? This really seems like some kind of allergy to me.”
“What’s allergy?” Pritzi asked.
“It’s when your body has a reaction to something. Like a poison.”
Jan’s face blanched.
“Do you have that here?” She asked Jan the question, even though the girl wouldn’t answer. She figured it was better to keep assuming one of these days she would open her mouth and speak again, rather than to cut her out of all conversations.
“Yes, we have poison,” Pritzi said. “It’s not poison, though, is it Jan?” she turned to her sister.
“I didn’t mean you’d been poisoned. An allergy is not usually fatal, although it can be.”
She glanced at the timepiece on the communication device. Shit. It was past time to start dinner preparation, according to their instructions.
She rushed to the kitchen, but it was still a complete disaster, the convection oven parts covering every inch of the countertop. She wouldn’t be able to cook until she repaired the oven.
Of course, that was the moment Gav’n walked in. He stared across the living room and into the cramped kitchen where she was hurriedly throwing parts into the hole that used to be the oven. “What in the hell happened here?”
She wiped at a black smudge on her nose she could see in her peripheral vision, but only seemed to make it larger. “I’m trying to burn the fucking house down. What does it look like to you?” she snapped. Defensiveness had always been her default mechanism for failure.
Gav’n stalked into the kitchen, eyes sweeping over the mess and the children. He stepped into her personal space, gripped the back of her hair, and yanked her head back. He claimed her mouth with a swift, dominant kiss and then murmured in a voice too low for the children to hear, “I’ll be whipping that sass out of you shortly. Let me hear a sorry, Master.” His deep, seductive voice contrasted with the tight pull on her scalp.
Heat flooded her core, and her irritability morphed into something more vulnerable. Even though she was clothed today, she felt as bared to Gav’n as ever. How did these aliens have the capacity to reduce her to a trembling mass of Jello?
He tugged a little harder when she didn’t answer immediately.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
A slow smile lit his face, and he eased the grip on her hair to massage her scalp instead. Her knees went weak.
But she sensed the stares of all three children—Darley had emerged from her room to watch the show as well.
“What happened here?” He still spoke low, in the sexy voice that belonged more in the bedroom than in an examination of her misdeeds as a nanny.
“I, uh, had a few accidents today.”
His eyes flicked over the kitchen again. The corners of his lips twitched.
She shoved against his chest in irritation, but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers.
“And then you took things apart because the engineer in you wanted to see how they work?” He grinned like he found her absolutely charming, instead of a bumbling pain in the ass, like her family always had.
“Yes, Master.”
He released her and moved into the kitchen, swiftly pulling things out of the chiller and assembling them on plates.
Jakk’s steps sounded outside. Gav’n gripped her waist and propelled her toward the door. “Go greet your master with a kiss, pashika.” He gave her a nudge.
She stumbled forward, tossing a quizzical look over her shoulder at Gav’n, who shooed her forward. She remembered Jakk’s wooden explanation about why he’d never have a Pra’kirian mate. Did Gav’n hope she’d make up for it?
It was no less than she’d hoped when she’d given him that blow job, yet, for some reason, it bothered her. Jakk deserved more than a pity fuck. She genuinely found him attractive. Gav’n didn’t need to urge her to make Jakk feel better about himself.
Like in the shuttle the day before, her anger with Pra’kirian women made her bold. She twined her arms around Jakk’s neck the moment he walked in the door. “Welcome, Master.”
He went rigid, as if unsure how to handle affection. She started to pull away, but his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her up against his huge, hard body. “Hello little human. How did it go?”
He peered past her at the disaster in the kitchen and stiffened. When his gaze returned, he wore his more customary stern expression...which she seemed to find sexy.
Her nipples tightened against his body as his masculine scent filled her nostrils. Their faces were inches from each other, and the way he studied her made her feel beautiful. “Terrible,” she answered honestly.
All day long, she truly had cursed them. She’d rehearsed a litany of complaints she planned to hurl at them, even knowing it would get her punished for disrespect. But they’d both disarmed her simply with—what? Their razor-sharp attention? Was that all it took to win her allegiance? Was she so attention-starved she would take anything from them—all forms of punishment and degradation, so long as they looked at her like she was their entire universe?
Maybe.
Yes.
Feeling all three girls’ eyes on them, she pushed away. Darley’s face was contorted with fury. Jan wore worry. Even Pritzi stared, somewhat dumbfounded.
“Are you going to mate Uncle Jakk or Uncle Gav’n?” the child asked.
Jakk stiffened against her, and she froze, too. Looking to him didn’t help, either, because his face had closed off like shutters had been drawn. She darted a glance at Gav’n, who wore a furrow of concern between his brow.
“We’re all family now. All six of us,” she said.
The tension on Gav’n’s face eased.
“I know none of us chose each other, but families are like that. You get stuck with who you get stuck with, and you make the best of it. That’s how it works. I had four older sisters always telling me what to do or what I’d done wrong. Sometimes I hated it. But I also loved them.” She choked a little at the end. Four sisters she’d never see again.
Jakk yanked her against his body roughly, squeezing the breath right out of her.
Darley still looked like she wanted to break something.
Too bad. They were stuck with each other.
~.~
Jakk gazed down at Mira naked and bound spread-eagle to their bed. He’d been particularly ruthless that night. After what she’d said about them being a family—her miraculous acceptance of his most fervent desires, he had too much passion in him to be gentle. And with him, as with Gav’n, the urge to fuck also came with the urge to dominate. And so they’d tortured her, slapping and smarting every inch of her body as she writhed and squirmed on the bed, bringing her to the edge of orgasm over and over again until he finally pounded into her pussy while Gav’n fucked her mouth.
They’d had to spank it out of her, but she eventually confessed all her difficulties that day. They’d agreed to punish Darley by removing all screens for the following day.
“You do realize you’re only making my life more difficult with that punishment?” Mira had complained, which they had answered with more spanking.
Now, he released her and picked her up. “Let’s get you in the shower, little one,” he murmured, carrying her to the bathroom. He turned on the water and carried her right into the stall, not willing to set her down.
Possibly ever.
He wished he could take the collar off her for the night, but it was welded on now, and removing it would break the expensive piece of equipment. Fortunately, it was waterproof.
Water ran over her breasts, beading up on her pale skin, washing away his and Gav’n’s scent. Gav’n pushed his way in, squeezing to the back of the shower. He lifted Mira’s legs over his shoulders, tugging them open and bringing her juicy pussy to his mouth.
He groaned watching his twin flick his tongue over her clit, riling her up again.
“No more,” she cried, voice raspy. “Please.”
“I love with when she begs, don’t you?” Gav’n flashed his cocky grin.
“Mmm, more than anything.” He balanced her back against his chest, pinching her nipples.
“No more...I can’t...oh God, yes!” Her throaty cry made his cock rock-hard again.
“Should we let her come again, Gav’n?”
His brother sucked her clit, and she tore at his hair, desperate for release. “I don’t know...she did burn our clothes up.”
“I told you...that wasn’t my...fucking...faul—ung, oh! Please, Jakk, Gav’n, Masters. Please!”
“She might need a proper whipping. I think when she uses the word fuck that way, it’s a curse. Or a show of disrespect. And she ought to have learned to respect us by now.”
Gav’n met his eyes as he went in for the kill, flicking his tongue fast over and over again until she screamed and came, quaking and shuddering.
He shifted her torso to Gav’n’s care, and his brother maneuvered her legs around his waist, her head collapsed over his shoulder. Their poor girl was wrung with overuse. He stroked her wet head. “You’re a good girl, Mira. Always available to your masters.”
She let out a half-whine, half-sigh.
He climbed from the shower and dried himself quickly then held a towel for their girl. Gav’n turned off the water and stepped out with her, transferring her into his arms and the waiting towel.
“I can dry myself off, you know,” she mumbled, blushing.
“If your master wants to see to your care, you yield and say thank you, Master.”
“Thank you, Master.” Her surrender came easier each time. She had begun to trust them. “I know it’s late, but do you think I could take a walk outside? I haven’t left the house all day.”
“No,” he said immediately.
Tension returned to her limp muscles, firming her slender body as she struggled for autonomy. “Why not?”
Gav’n flicked a towel across his back and raised one eyebrow. “We don’t need a reason for setting rules, Mira. It’s not your place to question them.”
