Ten Mountain Men's Baby: A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 9)

by Nicole Casey

  Brock turned and looked at him. “Hang on. One more minute.” Then he went back to her pussy and wrapped his thirsty mouth around it.

  Fuck! I can’t hold on another minute.

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember how many home runs Babe Ruth had hit in his career. I couldn’t recall, but scrolling my mental index for baseball statistics was enough of a distraction to stop me from reaching my climax.

  I opened my eyes, and Brock was getting to his feet. He stepped out of the way. Holly looked at him and whimpered. Owen got on his knees. He took her leg, lifted it, and pulled it across her body.

  Holly lay with the top of her shoulders flush against the blanket yet turning to her side at the hips, showing the small of her back and her ass. Owen eased his cock into her.

  Holly and I gasped together.

  Owen straddled her from the side. He pumped. She threw her head back and moaned. Gannon cupped his hand under her chin. Owen pumped her hard and fast.

  Holly wiggled her head free from Gannon’s hold. Her mouth found his finger, took it between her teeth, and bit down.

  Brock leaned in, put his cock against her heaving breast, and sprayed her chest with come.

  I closed my eyes again. But I couldn’t fight it anymore. I came.

  17

  Holly

  Lying on a blanket, stark naked, I propped my head up and watched the flickering fire cast dancing shadows on my sweat-streaked belly. I spread my legs apart and touched myself, still feeling the phantom thrusts against my pelvis.

  Gannon brought me a glass of water. I thanked him but refused the drink. I didn’t want anything to wash away the taste of their lips, not just yet.

  Miles had resumed playing the guitar, a softer, slower tune this time, one that perfectly fit the exhaustion and the lethargy of the room.

  “Are you hungry?” Lawson asked me. “I could make you an omelet. We’ve got bell peppers and mushrooms.”

  “Thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  I laid my head back down and watched the shadows dance on the ceiling.

  Ryker came and sat beside me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’m in a dream,” I said. “It’s all so surreal. I still feel hands on me.” I glanced down the length of my body. “Look. My legs are quivering.”

  “Are you cold?”

  I shook my head. “No. I feel warm, actually. Not too warm. It’s perfect.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair, straightening it and delicately working out the tangles.

  I turned my head to look at him. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Very much. Did you?”

  I looked back up at the ceiling. “Very much.”

  “Sharing is caring.” He touched me lightly on the cheek. “And I do care so much about you, Holly.”

  I took his hand from my cheek and held it against my chest. “Are you tired?”

  “Very much.”

  I kissed the back of his hand. “Come, lie down with me. Let’s get some sleep and dream together.”

  I awoke with Ryker lying on my left, his head resting on my shoulder. Lawson was lying on my right, his head resting against my hip. I patted him on the head. He stirred and murmured, then settled himself back against my thigh. With blankets covering the windows and no light from outside getting in, it was impossible to tell what time it was, morning, afternoon, or perhaps even the following evening.

  Will and Owen sat by the fire, their backs to me.

  “Will, Owen.”

  They turned in unison. With the fire between their faces in the background, I was presented with a kaleidoscope-like picture of two identical images of dark-haired, dark-skinned beauties. Am I still dreaming?

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  Will looked at his watch. “Five past nine.”

  I slipped my arm from around Ryker’s shoulders and eased myself up, trying not to disturb the two men sleeping at my side.

  No such luck.

  Lawson mumbled and reached out for me. His fingers brushed against my ankle and fell to the blanket as I stood. Ryker propped himself up onto his elbows and mumbled, “Morning already?”

  I patted his head, stood up straight, and stretched. “I need a shower.”

  Owen hopped to his feet. “Right this way.”

  Lunchtime arrived, and the power still hadn’t been restored.

  “We’re going to have to eat everything,” said Brock, “or it’ll all go to waste.”

  The eleven of us were up to the challenge.

  By the time we’d finished our feast, the day was slipping into the evening, the roads had been cleared, and Will offered to drive us back to our motel.

  “You’re perfectly welcome to stay here, of course,” he said. “But we can at least get your things, bring them back.”

  “What about the DNA test?” asked Ryker.

  “We probably still need to wait a day or two,” said Will, “but I’ll call my friend later and check, just in case.”

  Ryker nodded.

  “Not that there’s much of a need,” Will added. “I mean, we know we’re related.”

  “Yeah, seems like just a formality at this point,” said Ryker.

  “Dennis is back,” said Will, and he fought back the tears. He went to give Ryker a hug, then resisted. Then he abandoned resisting and took Ryker in a strong embrace. “Dennis!” He pulled away and looked Ryker in the eyes. “But now you’re Ryker. I know that. That’s cool.” He fought back the tears, shook his head, and added, “I never gave up hope. I always knew you were out there somewhere and that you were okay.”

  “And now I’m here,” said Ryker. “And now I’m more than okay.”

  Will dropped us off at the motel. He said he wanted to do some grocery shopping, and he’d be back in an hour or so to pick us up.

  Instead of packing—there was very little to pack anyway—I immediately collapsed onto the motel bed. “Man, what an incredible turn of events!”

  “Shocking, isn’t it?” said Ryker.

  I rolled over onto my side, propped myself up onto my elbow, rested my head on the back of my hand, and lay with my feet dangling off the side of the bed. “What are we going to do, Ryker?”

  “About what?”

  “I mean, are we going back to their cottage? What about the trail? I have a charity to document.”

  “Can’t you do that from here? You could treat Franklin like a base of operations. Spend a few days on the trail, come back, write up, and post your reports, then head back to the trail for a few days.”

  I rolled onto my back and kicked up my feet. I suddenly had lots of energy. I felt like I could do absolutely anything in the world; there were no more boundaries; all options were now open.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to finish the trail, finish your residency?” I wanted to ask him about his family in Massachusetts, but I bit my tongue. Too soon.

  He took a seat on the bed beside me. “I came here to find out about my roots. I hadn’t imagined that I would find a brother, let alone nine of them.” He held a guidebook of the trail and tossed it from one hand to the other like a baseball. “I’m going to stay here a while. My search has only just begun.” He stood up and began packing.

  I watched him and waited till he was finished before I packed my things. I didn’t know what my next move would be, but I did know how I felt about Ryker. We had grown so close over the last few days, too close for me to up and leave him here, and I wanted to see where his journey—our journey—would lead us.

  As we drove back to the cottage, Ryker bombarded Will with questions: What will I do about my residency? Do you think there are opportunities here for me? What about renting a house? What’s the job market like? What am I going to tell my family back in Massachusetts?’

  Will didn’t interrupt. He merely let Ryker get all of his thoughts and his doubts off his chest. Finally, once Ryker paused to catch his breath, Will said, “This area needs do
ctors badly. You’ve probably seen evidence of that in the short time you’ve been here. It’s true, there are communities, isolated communities, in the mountains that are in bad need, plus the people in town need doctors, too.

  “You’ll have no trouble finding a residency program here. I can even help you with that when you’re ready.”

  “You can?” Ryker exclaimed.

  Will chuckled. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know a lot of people. Plus, I work at a hospital, remember. I know a lot of doctors and administrators, too.

  “As far as renting a place, I can definitely sort you out with that. I’ve got a place in a town near my work. We’ve also got a cottage in the mountains. Smaller than the cabin, but it’s nice. You’re welcome to stay at either. And your family in Massachusetts, they’re welcome here, too.”

  He paused, and a somber silence fell over the conversation.

  I couldn’t contain myself anymore. “And me?” I blurted out.

  Will chuckled and glanced at me from over his shoulder. “You’re welcome here, too.” He waited for a beat, then added, “You’ve probably noticed, this area is in bad need of a good dentist. You are most certainly welcome here.”

  I had noticed, and I did feel welcome there. Ryker looked back at me and smiled. In addition to feeling welcome, I also felt wanted; and, beyond that, I felt needed. It was a good feeling, a very good feeling.

  I wondered how this turn in events would play in my blog. People were donating to “Medicine on the Trail” in part because I was showing them the need the Appalachian people had and also because I was showing them the commitment I had by hiking the trail. How would it go over if I shifted my commitment from the trail to one specific region? Not very well, I presumed.

  At least for a few days, I decided I could give a more in-depth account of Franklin. There was the added benefit that Franklin sat on the border of Tennessee and Georgia, so in one day, I could report from three different states.

  However, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay—at least not immediately. I couldn’t treat this place like a base of operations. Sooner or later, I would have to go back to the mountains and finish what I had started.

  18

  Ryker

  In less than two weeks since arriving in Appalachia, I’d discovered that I had nine brothers; however, in the exchange, I also discovered that my birth parents had passed away over a decade ago. They were young lovers who’d run away from their oppressive parents. They’d sought sanctuary in the seclusion of the mountains, and there they’d raised a large family.

  My adoptive parents were anything but oppressive, yet despite my mother’s objections to my going off to the mountains, here I was in a secluded cabin in the mountains with my lover, Holly. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to break the news to them. I’d written to them, told them about some of the interesting aspects of the trail and about my charity work in remote communities, but nothing about my birth family; however, I did tell them that I’d met a girl, one I was crazy about. When I told them that she was from California, their response had been, “California, that’s so far away.”

  Holly spent her days either with Dr. Hicks, accompanying her in her rounds to the isolated communities in Tennessee, Georgia, and North Carolina, or at the Angel Clinic. It was interesting to follow her blog, though my brothers and I did notice, despite it heavily leaning on the biographical aspect of her journey, there was no mention of us.

  Will put me in touch with a few hospital administrators regarding a residency. I even had one interview in nearby Sylva. But the process was slow, and my future was still undecided.

  It had been a little over a week since we had arrived in Franklin, and I could sense Holly getting restless.

  In our secluded cabin in the mountains, warmed by a fire, I prepared a lentil soup while Holly typed up her latest blog entry.

  “Smells good,” she said. She entered the kitchen, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me gently on the back of my neck.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” I said.

  “Yeah, I am.” She kissed me again and slid her hand down my chest and to my crotch where, from just her nearness and her gentle touch, I was getting an erection.

  She murmured, her breath tickling the back of my neck, “I see I’m not the only one getting hungry.”

  I pushed her away playfully. “Don’t disturb the chef. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

  She put her hands on my hips; she then slid them around and down my legs and up to my groin. “Mmm, twenty minutes. What could we possibly do for twenty minutes?”

  There was no point in resisting her advances. Holly got what she wanted, and I was more than happy to give it to her. I turned around. I took her by the back of the head, grabbed her ass, then lifted her leg and wrapped it around my waist. I pulled her to me and kissed her long and hard. With my stiff cock pressed tightly against her crotch, I ground in rhythm to my exploring tongue.

  She drew back, grabbed me by the collar with clenched fists, and pulled me out of the kitchen and into the living area.

  “But the soup,” I said.

  She caught me off guard, and in a move I’d expect from a champion judo wrestler—not from a dentist—she tackled me and threw me to the floor in front of the fireplace. She straddled me and pinned my arms to my side. “I think the mountains have me stir crazy,” she said. The fire reflected in her eyes, adding to the wild burning look that shone from them.

  “I think you’ve always been a little crazy.”

  She pulled my arms up over my head and held them down with one hand. With the other, she pulled off her shirt. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” she said.

  She wrapped her shirt around my wrists and tied them tightly together. She was strong, but I think I could have overtaken her. Still, I didn’t try to resist. I was curious to see how far she’d go.

  She leaned over me. I tried to look back to see what she was doing. I gathered she was trying to tie the other end of her shirt to the leg of the nearby sofa, but I couldn’t be sure. I was distracted. Her gorgeous, firm, round tits were inches from my face. I searched for them with my mouth, just out of reach. The frustration only increased my desire.

  “You looking for these?” She cupped her breasts and held them an inch from my straining mouth.

  I stuck out my tongue and only managed to touch the tip of her nipple. The touch was too fleeting. I squirmed and tried to pull my hands free. To my surprise, she had tied them good and tight.

  I bucked and tried to turn over, but she straddled me with her knees pressed tight at my sides.

  She looked at me with a devious smile stretched across her face. She laughed. “Going somewhere?”

  I bucked and shook my arms futilely. She laughed again and pulled my shirt up over my head. I tried to tug my hands free, but the shirt was too secure. It wouldn’t give.

  Holly slid down, her knees now snug against my hips. She leaned over and let her hair fall, lightly touching my chest. She ran up and down, tickling me first with the ends of her hair, then tantalizing me with the soft touch of her breasts and the hard touch of her nipples.

  I wanted to grab her, pin her down, and possess her. I writhed, and I squirmed. “Untie me.”

  She laughed.

  I gritted my teeth. “Untie me, or else.”

  “Or else what?

  “This isn’t going to end well for you.”

  She unzipped my pants and slid them down off my waist, freeing my throbbing erection from its confines. She took it in her hand and stroked it softly. “Oh, I think this is going to end just fine for me.” She stood and slipped out of her pants. “You like to watch, don’t you?”

  I did watch her. I watched her stand over me, put her foot onto my chest, and run her toes up and down the crease between my pecs. And I did like it.

  She gripped her pants by the waist in a balled-up fist and whipped me with the pant legs.

  “Ow!”

  “I asked
you a question. You like to watch, don’t you?”

  I gulped and nodded.

  She whipped me again. “Say it!”

  “I like to watch.”

  She smiled deviously and tossed her pants. “Good. Well, now you’ve got a front-row seat.” She straddled me anew. Took my cock in her hand and stroked it gently. She placed it against her groin. With her other hand, she stroked herself, her fingers exploring her wet pussy.

  Strands of black hair veiled her eyes, but I caught enough of a glimpse to see she was staring at me. She licked her lips and pressed my cock against her labia. I felt how wet she was. I bucked my hips, searching for entry, but she was in control.

  “Not yet,” she said. She leaned over me, her hand pressing my throbbing cock against her wet pussy, her other hand like a claw scraping down my chest.

  I arched my back and groaned.

  “Are you watching?” She turned her back to me, straddled me, and inserted my throbbing member into her.

  I watched her, her ass hitting my pelvis, her head flung back, and her long black hair swaying from side to side in rhythm with her gyrations. I gave up trying to pull my hands free and focused on moving my hips to meet her.

  She leaned forward and grabbed my ankles, her nails digging into my skin.

  “Ahh!”

  She ran her nails up along the inside of my leg. She cupped my balls in one hand, then she leaned back and braced herself with a hand on the floor to my side. She groaned and moaned.

  I thrust harder and faster.

  “Yes!” she called out. “Yes! Like that.”

  There was no one within miles. She could scream as loud as she wanted.

  She grunted and pounded her ass against my bucking pelvis.

  “I’m going to come,” I said.