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Jane gazed at the woman staring back at her from the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing her. She’d changed so much in the last six months. Her hair was still shoulder-length, straight and black, and her eyes were still dark blue. But there was pain and cynicism in those eyes that hadn’t been there before. Her face had always been thin, but now it was gaunt and pale. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her bathrobe around her and left the room, snapping off the light behind her.
In two steps she was in her living room, which was also her bedroom. Her life had changed in many ways since the night she witnessed the murder. The police had been skeptical at first, until she’d produced the evidence. Then they’d been thrilled. She’d become their star witness and since then her life had been little more than a media circus.
Her posh apartment had been a job perk and she’d lost that the moment she’d accused Richard Trenton of murder. Most of the furniture had come with the place, so she’d rented a van and loaded up her personal belongings. The media had descended on her apartment about the same time security had come to kick her out. She’d just managed to get the last box out in time. Jobless, homeless and hunted by reporters, she’d headed to the one place she felt safe—the apartment building she’d grown up in. The place she still considered home.
Her father had worked the docks his entire life, running a forklift, loading and unloading the cargo ships that came into the harbor. She remembered a time when they’d had a small house. But after her mother left when Jane was six, her father had sold it when the courts had ordered him to pay his soon-to-be ex-wife a settlement. They’d moved into a large, old brick apartment building near the docks and her father had lived there until he’d died of a heart attack three years ago.
He’d been the best father a girl could ever want and he’d always wanted more for her then he could provide. She’d worked hard to make him proud of her. When she’d been promoted to personal assistant to the CEO of Trenton Industries, he’d been so happy and excited, telling all his friends about her accomplishments. He’d only lived a scant two months after that. It was as if he felt she was settled in life and he could let go. Jane knew he’d never got over her mother leaving them. She was glad he didn’t have to witness the life she’d built, the one that he was so proud of, crumbling around her.
She’d run back to the old apartment building, back to the friends she’d known her whole life, and they’d taken her in. The landlady, Shelly Abbott, was a no-nonsense, hard-talking woman in her early fifties, but Jane knew that behind the façade was a heart of gold. There had been no vacant apartments but Shelly and some of her father’s friends had cleared out an unused bachelor apartment in the basement, helped her paint it and found a few pieces of furniture to put in it.
This one room was all she had, but at least she had it. It was better than being homeless. Her ex-boyfriend had ditched her immediately. He didn’t want to be tainted by the scandal surrounding her. After all, he still worked for Trenton Industries. She’d thought they were building something special. They were compatible enough and the sex was good, but obviously their relationship hadn’t meant anything to him other than the fact that she’d worked closely with the boss.
Snorting, she crossed the small room, removed her robe to reveal the thin, short nightgown beneath and crawled onto the old iron daybed that sat against the far wall. It doubled as both bed and sofa and she’d covered it with a quilt she’d made years ago. All her art and valuables were gone, sold at pawn shops and consignment stores to raise money. She hadn’t known how long the trial was going to take, but she did know that no one would hire her until this was over. And maybe not even then.
Having grown up without money, Jane was quite good at sewing and needlework. She had bought a used sewing machine yesterday, determined to start taking in small sewing jobs to supplement her dwindling savings. Plus she enjoyed sewing, which was a bonus.
Reaching down to the end of the daybed, she smiled for the first time today as she pulled the piece of fabric towards her. She couldn’t believe she’d found such a treasure in a thrift shop. But there it had been, rolled up next to the sewing machine. At first, she’d passed it over, too excited about the possibility of owning her own sewing machine again to bother with it. But something had pulled her interest back to it time and again until she’d walked back over to it, picked it up and unrolled it.
She’d forgotten to breathe as she stared at it. The tapestry was about two feet wide by three feet long and was obviously very old. The rich colors created a picture unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life. A large stone castle stood in the background surrounded by a forest. There were pine trees, their needles a green so deep they looked almost black in places, and other trees covered with leaves of various shapes and sizes, in every shade of green imaginable, from dark and lush to bright and brilliant.
The longer she looked, the more she saw in the intricate design. Various birds and animals were hidden in the depths of the trees. There were flowers of every shape and color, many of which she didn’t recognize. But they were all beautifully framed against the castle and filled the meadow beyond it. The tapestry was truly a work of art. You could almost see the trees sway and smell the flowers on the air. It was breathtaking.
But it was the three warriors standing in front of the castle that captivated her. Their chests and arms rippled and bulged with muscles, even though they were standing with their arms folded across their chests. Only vests covered their torsos, leaving most of their chests and all of their arms bare. What looked to be wide metal bands, the color of bronze, were clasped around their upper arms and wrists.
Form-fitting pants molded strong thighs and cupped rather impressive bulges in the front. She licked her lips as she stared. They really were impressive and definitely created right out of the artist’s mind. No men could look that good. Leather boots that came to just below their knees completed their outfits. They all gave off an aura of barely leashed power that could explode at a moment’s notice.
They all had long blond straight hair. Strands of it flew out behind them as if it was being whipped around by an unseen wind. Proud and strong, they were the protectors of the castle and its inhabitants.
Their features seemed to take on a sharper definition the longer she’d stared at them. They looked similar enough to be related, probably brothers. They looked like Nordic gods with their long hair and pale blue eyes. The one in the center looked older than the other two, harder. His lips were thinner and his eyes were filled with carnal knowledge and sensual promise. If she shifted the tapestry slightly, she could almost make out the form of yet another warrior, but like a shadow, he seemed to fade in and out of the fabric, not quite there.
She shivered as she’d done in the thrift shop. Her reaction to it unnerved her. It drew her in and made her feel hot and achy. Her breasts had swelled and her nipples had pebbled against the cups of her bra. Between her thighs, she could feel her sex getting damp as she stared at them.
Closing her eyes, she could almost hear their voices, deep and slightly rough, promising all kinds of sexual delights. They would whisper in her ear, telling her in explicit detail what they wanted to do to her separately and together. Her eyes shot back open when she whimpered aloud. Pressing her legs together, she tried to ease the growing ache deep within. But that only seemed to make it worse.
She’d had to have the tapestry. Clutching it tight in her arms, she’d hurried to the cash register to find out how much it cost. She’d almost cried, the relief was so great, when the older white-haired lady running the shop had told her it was ten dollars. Deep in her soul, she knew it belonged to her and she knew she would have beggared herself to own it. She was just glad that she didn’t have to.
Pulling the tapestry up over her, she turned off the light and drifted off to sleep. She could almost imagine the hands of the warriors touching her. The skin on their hands would be rough as they caressed her skin.
Chapter T
wo
Jane rolled over in bed, trying to get comfortable. Sighing, she thought about getting up and putting on the kettle to boil and making herself a cup of tea. That had become her nightly ritual. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in six months. With grim determination, she kept her eyes closed and tried to will herself back to sleep…
Something gnawed at the back of her brain. Had she heard a noise? Had something awakened her? Lying still, she listened carefully. Silence. That was the problem. It was too quiet. Down here in the basement, she could usually hear the sounds of the traffic on the street and the clanking of the ancient water pipes.
Opening her eyes, she blinked, trying to see through the darkness. There was a streetlight just outside her apartment that usually cast a dim light through her lone apartment window. But the room was pitch black. Must be a power outage. There was no way she could have tea now. But perhaps she should get her flashlight. Ever since the murder, she’d disliked being completely in the dark, afraid of what lurked in the shadows.
Before she could decide what she should do, she heard a noise. It was a faint rustling sound that seemed to come from right next to her. Oh God, there was someone in the room with her! Ever so slowly, she slid across the sheet. And hit a solid wall.
Then the wall moved.
Jane gasped as a massive arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to an even bigger body. She froze. How had someone gotten into bed with her? Even worse, she was naked. What had happened to her nightgown?
She had to get away. Immediately, she grabbed his arm, trying to shove it away from her even as she struggled to free herself from him. It was like pushing against steel. There was no give in his arm at all. She didn’t bother wasting her energy trying to scream. No one would hear her way down here in the basement.
“Shhh,” a seductive male voice whispered in her ear.
“Who? Who are you?” she managed to stutter out as she gasped for breath.
A shuffling sound on her other side caught her off guard and she cried out as a large shadow rose from the other side of the bed. “What’s wrong?” a sleepy male voice asked.
Light filtered in from the end of the bed at the same time Jane heard a curtain being pushed aside. She blinked as the dim light hit her eyes. After the compete blackness, it seemed bright. When she could make out her surroundings, she blinked again, unable to believe what she saw.
Walls made of gray stone and a stone fireplace were illuminated by the small blaze crackling in the hearth. She could see a wooden table and several chairs off to one side. The bed she was in seemed huge and was surrounded by bed curtains. She couldn’t see the man behind her but glimpsed the one in front of her when he bent closer to her. For a split second, his face was illuminated in the light. She’d seen his face before, but where?
Her heart was pounding against her chest and her breath was coming in short gasps. She had to get a hold of herself. Think, Jane. Think. Then it came to her. The tapestry. He was one of the warriors from the tapestry.
Relief swamped her. She was safe. This was just a dream.
Reaching out, she touched the side of his face, jumping slightly when he nuzzled her hand. His jaw was covered with stubble that tickled her palm. She started when his tongue stroked her fingers, jerking her hand back tight to her chest.
The man behind her had to be another one of the warriors. Turning so that she was lying flat on her back, she gazed up at him through the dim light. She couldn’t clearly make out his features, but his long hair flowed behind his shoulders and she caught a flash of his white teeth as he smiled.
His arm was still wrapped around her, holding her tight as he lowered his head and brushed his lips across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her chin. The light feathery touches calmed her. This was just a dream after all. A wonderful, delightful dream. It had been a long time since she’d had sex so no wonder she was having an erotic dream. And if she was going to have one, then she couldn’t have ordered a better fantasy than the three warriors from the tapestry.
Sighing, she reached her hand up, threaded it through his hair, and tugged him toward her. She wanted to taste him, to experience his lips on hers. She could feel him smile as he skimmed her mouth with his. His tongue traced the fullness of her bottom lip before stroking over her top one. Her mouth parted eagerly and his tongue slipped inside.
Moaning, she moved her hand over the side of his face, allowing it to slide down over his neck and chest. He was so strong. Like velvet over pure rock. His skin was hot to the touch and she could feel a light dusting of hair on his chest. She longed to be able to see it. Her fingers roamed over his torso as his tongue explored her mouth ever so slowly. He treated her like she was a fine wine to be sipped slowly and appreciated.
A low rumble escaped him as her fingers brushed against one of his nipples. The texture of his kiss changed as he deepened it. He stroked her tongue with his, coaxing it back into his mouth. He tasted hot and male. He sucked her tongue hard.
Jane jumped when she felt lips nibbling at her neck. She’d all but forgotten the other warrior, as impossible as that seemed. It was absolutely delicious to have one of the warriors kissing her while the other one sampled her neck. She’d never had an erotic dream this real before. And it was absolutely wonderful. She didn’t want to ever wake up. She could feel her cream flowing from her sex, softening it, preparing it for a hard male cock.
A hand stoked across her stomach and she held her breath as it moved higher, circling her breast but not touching it. She wiggled closer, trying to get his hand where she wanted it. Pleased masculine laughter reached her ears just before he cupped her breast. His thumb stroked across the tip, making it tighten. Breaking away from the kiss, she gasped for breath.
Both men shifted. She could feel their breath brush across her skin as they lowered their heads towards her breasts. “Oh, yes,” she cried out as their mouths descended on the aching mounds. Each of them sucked a nipple past their lips and suckled.
Her hips arched upwards with each lap of their tongues against the hard nubs of her breasts. Her pussy grew wetter with every stroke as her cream continued to flow. She could feel it slipping down between the globes of her behind and onto the sheets. She’d never felt this needy in her life.
A dark shadow appeared at the end of the bed, blocking the light. She instinctively knew that this was the third warrior. Well, if she was going to have an erotic dream, she might as well enjoy them all. The bed shifted under his weight as he knelt between her thighs. As he leaned down, she caught sight of his face in the dim firelight. This was the warrior from the center of the tapestry. His face was slightly older, harder and filled with a lust that would have frightened her if this hadn’t been a dream. Instead, it excited her.
Spreading her legs, she tilted up her hips, offering herself to him. He growled low in his throat as he wrapped his hands around her thighs and spread her even wider. He blew softly on her sex, making her shiver with desire. Her entire being was focused on her sexual pleasure. Her blood pumped hard, her heart pounded against her chest and she knew she would soon explode.
The men on either side of her continued to suck and lick her breasts, alternating between gentle touches and those that were almost rough. They shifted closer to her and she felt two hard male cocks nudge her hands on either side. Without thought, she wrapped her fingers around them, sliding her hands from base to tip. Her thumbs stroked the heads before she slid her hands downward again.
A rough tongue licked up one side of her swollen sex, caressing the slick folds before continuing down the other side. He’d lifted his tongue as he’d passed her swollen clitoris. She pumped her hips and cried out in protest. One of the warriors suckling her breasts immediately lifted his head and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her frantic cries.
She continued to pump her hands up and down over their cocks. Hot and hard, they pulsed against her palms. Both warriors tensed at the same time and then shoved their hips harder again
st her. Jane didn’t stop even though her own release was close. She felt them come. Felt the hot spew of cum on her fingers even as they continued to pleasure her.
She screamed as the warrior between her thighs caught her clit carefully between his teeth and flicked it. Two of his long fingers thrust inside her swollen pussy, stretching her. The mouth at her breast bit down gently on her hard nipple at the same time the warrior kissing her thrust his tongue deep. It was too much.
Jane felt her body explode. She convulsed as spasms of pleasure shook her entire being. Her legs and arms tightened as the almost painful pleasure shot through her. Wave after wave washed over her as she rode out the storm. She couldn’t take any more, but they continued to pleasure her until sobs welled up deep inside her and she began to cry.
Immediately, the caresses turned gentle and soothing. She lost all track of time as they stroked and petted her. With a final sigh, she sank back into the mattress, too exhausted to move. The warriors on either side of her cuddled close to her, but the one between her legs shifted.
In the dim light, she could see his cock, hard and swollen, jutting out in front of him. He hadn’t come yet. There was no softness in his face as he lifted her hips in his large hands. She could sense the determination in him. He would have her. He would claim her as his own and she knew she would never be the same again.
For the first time since the dream began, Jane felt fear. This warrior was a threat to her. If he took her, he would somehow own a piece of her. “No,” Jane shouted as she began to struggle. She’d already lost enough and couldn’t afford to lose anything else.
“Wake up. Wake up,” she chanted as she pushed away from him.
As the scene began to fade, she heard a desperate shout. She glimpsed his face for a split second and the sheer desolation on his face made her cry out. But it was too late.
Bolting upright in her bed, Jane gasped for breath. For a second, she thought she could hear the echo of the warrior’s pained cry. Then a car horn blared through the night and the glow from the streetlight illuminated her small room. The covers were a tangle around her and she tugged them over her naked body. She felt hot and sticky and could still feel the throbbing ache between her thighs.
Bakra Bride Page 2
