Falling For Them Volume 2: Reverse Harem Collection

by Nikki Bolvair

My arms fold over the back of the couch, and I prop my chin on them. “You can eat more of Darcy’s casserole.”

  He makes a gagging noise, and Davin’s arm shoots into the air. “I’d like cereal, please.”

  Jameson does a quick search of the cabinets, muttering to himself, before pulling out a box of dried pasta and a can of tomato sauce. “It will be plain without any seasonings, but we could do spaghetti.”

  “There’s salt and pepper.” I point to the wooden shakers on the counter by the stove.

  His eyes narrow at me. “I’m going to teach you to cook.”

  “I’m going to burn your food.” When he looks ready to argue, I add, “Don’t you think my mom already tried?”

  “Mrs. McKathry’s a divine cook.” Davin pops up from his seat and hurries into the kitchen on sock covered feet to open the fridge. He pulls out the large plastic container from two days ago. “We still have pancakes.”

  “They’re stale by now.” Jameson fills a saucepan with water and adds salt to it before placing it on the stove.

  As the brothers talk over each other in the kitchen, warmth fills my chest. This feels right. They belong here in this home, with me. It would be a cold, lonely place without them. It’s time I throw caution to the wind, grab onto the future I want with both hands, and refuse to ever let go again.

  “We should bring all of your stuff over on Sunday.”

  They freeze mid-argument and turn to stare at me in shock.

  I nibble on my lip and hunch down on the sofa, suddenly unsure. I thought they would look happier. Throat tight, my voice comes out a little high. “What? It’s not like you didn’t plan to anyway, right?”

  Grins spread across Jameson’s and Hughe’s faces as Davin nods frantically, his bangs sliding across his forehead. Davin abandons the pancake container on the kitchen counter and rushes into the living room.

  When he climbs directly over the couch, I scramble away. “No, wait! I just showered!”

  Before I can escape, he tackles me to the cushions, and my nose fills with dust and the scent of wood shavings. He rains kisses onto any part of my face he can reach. “Of course, we’ll move in with you!”

  ~

  I wake in the middle of the night with a desperate need for water. When I lift up onto my elbow to peer over Jameson to the nightstand, the red glow of the clock reveals an empty glass on the nightstand. Disentangling myself from the triplets, I climb over Jameson’s body, grab the empty glass, and tiptoe out to the kitchen to refill it.

  The deck of cards from earlier still sits in the center of the kitchen table. We played a few hands of poker before calling it an early night. After hauling boxes all day, no one had the energy to stay up past eight-thirty. I grin to myself. If only I could see my teenage self’s face right now. She’d be appalled at how content I am to be a homebody now.

  The facet squeaks quietly as I twist it on. Filling the glass halfway, I chug the contents before putting it back under the flow of water.

  When I turn back around, I nearly drop the glass as I let out a quiet shriek.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Rubbing a hand through his hair, Jameson shuffles into the kitchen.

  I put my hand over my pounding heart and whisper, “It’s alright. Did I wake you?”

  He takes the water glass from my hand and takes a sip before he answers. “No, it was Davin trying to cuddle with me that woke me up.”

  I snort quietly. “Did he try to grab your boobs?”

  Glass back at his lips, Jameson glares at me over the rim. “You know, he never used to do that on the island. You’re teaching him bad habits.”

  “We’ll get new mattresses for the other rooms on Sunday, then we won’t all be smashed together.” My stomach tightens at the idea, though. I like waking up surrounded by them. I can’t imagine the king-sized mattress with just me. Drawing my lip between my teeth, I hesitate before adding, “One of you should take the master bedroom. I don’t need that much space.”

  He sets the glass down on the counter and leans back against it. “Is that what you want? All of us in separate rooms?”

  I hug my arms around my body, the cold of the floor seeping up through my sock covered feet. “Wouldn’t you like some privacy?”

  He shrugs. “We got used to sharing a room on the island. I would be lonely not to hear them breathing.” He reaches out to cup my elbows and draw me closer. “And I like your snores. They let me know you’re nearby.”

  My fist thumps lightly against his chest. “I don’t snore!”

  “More like a little snuffle.” He imitates the sound, then grins down at me when I thump him harder. “You’ve always snored like that, even back in middle school.”

  I lift my chin. “Now, we’re definitely taking separate rooms.”

  “It’s adorable.” He drops a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “You’re adorable.”

  I blow a raspberry into his face to let him know what I think of that, and he chuckles quietly.

  Another kiss lands on my cheek. “And beautiful.”

  “That’s better.” I lean into his body and shiver at the scrape of stubble against my skin as he shifts sides to drop a kiss onto my other cheek. “Compliment me more.”

  “You’re strong.” His hands drift up my arms to circle my biceps briefly before he cups my shoulders and soothes his palms down my back. “But supple. You’re not afraid to admit when you need help, or when you think yourself in the wrong.”

  Shaking my head in denial, I tangle my fingers in the flannel of his nightshirt. “I’m afraid all the time that I’ll mess up.”

  “But it doesn’t stop you.” He kisses my forehead, his lips dry and hot against my skin. “You move forward despite the risks.”

  My throat tightens at his praise. I don’t deserve it. I’m not the woman he thinks I am. Blinking fast, I turn my face away from his tenderness. “I only became brave again when you returned.”

  “Fitting, because you’re the reason I can be brave.” He pushes the curls away from my ear to allow his lips to skim along the delicate shell. “I went to bed every night to the thought of when we would be together again.”

  I turn my face toward him, drawn by the love in his words. “Really?”

  “Every single night.” He reaches up to cup my cheek. “You make me stronger when I’m with you. You make me want to be a better man. Someone you’ll be proud of.”

  Tears sting my eyes once more. “I was always proud of you.”

  “I was so stup—“

  My lips press against his, sealing in the words. He returns my kiss with gentle passion as he lifts me, takes two long steps, and sets me on the kitchen counter. The cold tiles only accentuate how hot his body is as I pull him closer. His mouth leaves mine to trail kisses down my throat.

  I moan, fingers threading through his short hair as he reaches my collarbone. My pulse leaps beneath the caresses, my stomach muscles clenching. He draws the delicate skin into his mouth, and my breasts tingle, nipples tightening for attention. When he cups me through my shirt, my back arches, my body greedy for his touch. He finds my ridged peaks and rolls them between his thumbs and forefingers.

  My nails scrape against his scalp as I urge his head lower, and his mouth opens over one breast, his breath hot through the barrier of my shirt.

  “Jameson,” I urge him quietly.

  My fingers lift to the buttons on my shirt, but he pulls my hand away, his fingers threading through mine against the counter as he switches his attention to my other breast. Instant cold fills the place he abandoned, and my nipple aches as it tightens even more.

  I wrap my legs around his hips, moaning louder when his hard cock presses against my core.

  His head lifts, lips covering mine briefly before he pulls away. “Shhh. Don’t wake the others.”

  My eyes dart to the hallway, and I nod.

  “Lay back.” His hand on my shoulder urges me to lay on the counter as his other hand grips my hip to pull me closer to
the edge.

  Long fingers skim along the line of skin between the hem of my shirt and my sweat pants, the calluses rough from long hours at manual labor. When they dip beneath the waistband, my breath catches, and I lift a hand to mask my excitement.

  Slowly, he pulls the pants down, his lips caressing every inch of skin he uncovers. I tremble under his attention, my body tightening with need as liquid heat fills my core. When he kisses the inside of my knee, I spread my legs to make room for his shoulders, unashamed for him to see my need.

  He rewards me as his palms slide up my inner thigh, pushing my legs wider. Teasing, he kisses the flesh on either side of my core, his breath ghosting against my damp curls as he switches sides.

  I press my hand tighter against my mouth as I fight the urge to moan. My hips involuntarily lift in a silent plea as his mouth hovers over my entrance. I jump at the first delicate touch of his tongue against my swollen flesh, and his palm splays across my lower stomach, drawing soothing circles as he dips in for another taste.

  Long fingers part my folds, and his tongue thrusts into my core, shallow at first and then deeper. He groans with pleasure, the vibration traveling through my body, building the pleasure. My heart pounds, and I reach back to grab the edge of the counter as my hips lift.

  His fingers replace his tongue, curving against my inner walls until he finds a spot that shoots waves of pleasure through me. Unable to stop myself, I moan as his lips find my clit, and he sucks delicately, his tongue flicking over the nub as his fingers rub inside of me.

  My body tightens as I come apart beneath him.

  The orgasm still rocks through my body when he tugs my hips over the edge of the counter, and I feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against my entrance. Gasping, I lift up onto my elbows to watch as he slowly pushes himself inside.

  Feeling the inner stretch as he disappears adds a new level of pleasure. My trembling legs circle his hips as he seats himself fully. He stays still, his chest heaving, and I wiggle against him, desperate for the hot slide of friction.

  He groans, his head dropping. “Just give me a minute.”

  “No,” I whimper and move my hips against him, grinding against his pelvis as my inner muscles flex around his cock.

  He gasps, and his hips flex against his will, a short thrust before he freezes again. “Sibby, I’m not going to last.”

  “Neither am I.”

  Sitting up as far as I can on my tenuous perch, I wrap my hand around his neck, my palm slippery against the sweat at his nape. I tug him down to me, my lips clumsy against his as I lick and nibble until he claims my mouth in a fierce kiss. His hands drop to my hips, lifting me slightly as he begins to thrust, long and slow, inside of me.

  Sweet pleasure builds, somehow more intense as his cock slowly drags back and forth over that place he found earlier. I drag my mouth from his to bury my face against his shoulder, my moans muffled against his throat.

  His pants heavily against my skin as he picks up speed, his motions becoming more erratic. Tension builds in my body once more, and he groans quietly as my muscles clench around him.

  A hand slides between our bodies, and he finds my clit, rubbing against the hard nub. It sends me over the edge, my orgasm shaking through me as I cry his name. I feel his release at the same time as he stiffens against me, his hand tight on my hip to keep our bodies sealed together.

  He jerks and gasps within my arms, raining kisses on my face as the pleasure dissipates to leave us tired and content.

  “I want to spend our life together,” he whispers into my ear. “This one, the next one, however many the Thread Maker gives us. I love you.”

  Tears spring to my eyes, and I nod against his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

  “This isn’t the sex talking.” His fingers comb through my hair to cup the back of my head and hold me close. “I’m going to say this again in the morning. And every morning after.”

  Nodding once more, my arms tighten around him. I want those mornings. An eternity of them.

  Tied

  The next morning, I crawl out of bed, my body sore and my head stuffy from lack of sleep. The triplets, damn them, are already gone, but the smell of hot pancakes lets me know they haven’t gone far.

  I stumble down the hall and into the bathroom to tame my morning breath and the fuzzy snarl my curls turned into before joining them in the kitchen.

  Jameson stands at the stove, a mixing bowl at his elbow as he flips hotcakes onto a waiting plate. Davin and Hughe sip coffee at the table. Davin stares at the wall, still blinking sleepily, while Hughe plays a game of solitaire. I stumble to my chair and flop into it.

  My hips instantly protest. After being abstinent for so long, I got a little carried away yesterday and the hard, wooden chair is a painful reminder.

  “Good morning.” Jameson drops a kiss on top of my head as he leans over my shoulder to set a mug of pale brown tea in front of me.

  The bitter herbal scent drifts up on the steam. It tickles my nose and makes my eyes water. Lifting my heavy arms, I wrap my hands around it and drag it closer, but can’t bring myself to drink it yet. Not with the taste of mint toothpaste still on my tongue.

  My stomach rolls at the very idea.

  Hughe sets the deck of cards down and glances at me. “Did you want to go to the pub tonight, Shiv?”

  Davin shakes himself into awareness. “We have to finish the stairs tonight.” His eyes shift to me, and he smiles. “Morning, Vonnie.”

  “You didn’t finish the cuts last night.” Hughe points out. “Which means I’m free to take her to the pub to get away from the noise.”

  Davin leans forward, mouth opening to argue, and I wave a hand between them to stop the fight before it begins. “I have pinochle tonight.”

  “Oh.” Hughe slumps back in his seat. “Should we get pizza later, then?”

  Before I can answer, the phone on the wall rings, and I stare at it in surprise. Mom wouldn’t usually call until tomorrow, and Caira usually phones the community center on her breaks.

  Jameson reaches across the counter to snag it before it can ring again. “Hello, McKathry residence.”

  He listens for a moment, and his eyes dart to me, a small smile hovering on his lips.

  “Yes, thank you,” he says into the receiver. “We appreciate it.”

  After saying goodbye, he hangs up and turns back to the stove to pull the next batch of pancakes off the pan before they burn. When he stays quiet, I exchange glances with Davin and Hughe as we all stand and form a line in front of the counter.

  When Jameson turns with the plate full of hotcakes in his hands, his eyebrow lifts. “What?”

  “What was that call about?” Hughe folds his arms across his chest.

  He skirts around the counter to place the full plate on the dining table. His eyes sparkle as he peers over his shoulder at us. “It was a follow-up to an email I sent this morning.”

  I straighten in excitement. “Another job?”

  “No.” He shakes his head and grins. “Even better.”

  “Just spill it, man.” Davin eyes the pancakes, and his stomach rumbles loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Jameson turns and reaches for my left hand, bringing it up to cover his heart. “Nine years ago, a little Traveler boy told us that our threads bound us together. If you’re willing, the Thread Reader is ready to make that official.”

  My mouth drops open in surprise, and I glance at Davin and Hughe. They wear expressions of shock and delight as their attention focuses on me, and they wait for an answer.

  “I…” My throat tightens, and my eyes sting with tears as I nod frantically. “Yes, of course. When?”

  I glance down at my pajamas, then turn toward the hall. Do I even own anything red? Will pink be close enough?

  Laughing, Jameson tugs me back around. “They have an opening first thing Sunday morning. We have time to prepare.”

  “Not now?” Disappointment crashes through me. I’m ready to perman
ently bind them to me right this moment.

  “It’s the earliest they could get us in.” Jameson pulls me against his chest. “Do you remember what I said last night?”

  My heart lurches, and I stare up at him, eyes wide. “I remember.”

  His head bends until his forehead touches mine. “I love you, Siobhan McKathry. I loved you the first moment I laid eyes on you, I loved you while we were separated, I love you this morning, and I’ll love you every morning from now until all the stars burn out of the sky.”

  He lifts his head and looks at his brothers. Davin and Hughe move in, their arms circling around us in a group hug.

  “I love you, Siobhan McKathry,” Davin whispers from my right.

  Hughe clears his throat, his voice rough. “I love you, Siobhan McKathry.”

  I sniffle and fist Jameson’s shirt to wipe my eyes. “I love you, too, Jameson, Hughe, and Davin O’Brien.”

  ~

  Friday and Saturday pass in a blur. The triplets finish clearing out the Lapton Main Gallery and old Mr. Nigel’s hoard spreads across the hall to take over the dance hall, too. It will take time to finish unpacking the boxes and sorting it, but the work makes me happy.

  When Sunday morning comes, I find a beautiful red sweater waiting for me in the bathroom. Since superstition says not to tell anyone about our trek today, I’ve kept our visit to the Thread Reader to myself. It was hard to hide from my mom when she called yesterday to let me know what to bring to dinner tonight, but I somehow kept my lips sealed.

  I pick up the soft sweater and rub it against my cheek. It feels finer than anything I’ve ever worn. The guys must have gotten it for me.

  Quickly changing, I leave the bathroom to find the triplets waiting by the door. Hughe wears a red wristband, while Jameson found a patch to pin onto his jacket. A red clip holds Davin’s hair back, and he fusses with it before he spots me and lets his hand drop.

  We all know the touches of red won’t change the outcome of the reading, but warm fills my heart that they wear them anyway.