Finding Nora: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Searchers Book 2)

by Ripley Proserpina

  His words held a weight demanding she think carefully before she answered. Did she need to work with Dr. Murray? What option did she have?

  Live off the guys? No. They have bills, tuition, jobs. They can’t support me.

  Get a job? No one will hire me, not now. Not here.

  Leave to find a job? Leave them. Her heart rejected the idea. They were the only bright spot in her life. Their relationship was new and fragile, but it was the realest, most important thing she ever experienced. She wouldn’t leave them. She couldn’t leave them.

  Work with Dr. Murray? It only means more debt. But it also means more options down the road. The degree I need. The money we all need. Time with them. The ability to stay and love them.

  There’s your answer.

  Her eyes closed, body tensed as if readying for an injury before she opened her eyes. She fixed them on Ryan and nodded. “I need to do this.”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw, reminding her of Cai. Matisse’s crossed arms dropped to his sides, and Apollo let out a breath behind her. Seok’s hand dug back into his hair. She felt Cai’s hand on her waist, and she accepted the strength he offered.

  “Yes,” she said again. “I’m sorry. I need to do this.”

  Her brain suddenly played a reel of what she should expect. Ryan would point to the door and one by one, the guys would say goodbye to her.

  But it wasn’t want happened. Ryan nodded, a mere dip of his chin somehow straining every muscle in his body. “Alright, Nora. If you need to do this, we’re with you.”

  The scene she expected was so clear in her mind the reality of his words took more than a moment to process. Her knees actually wobbled, and she had to lock them to stay upright.

  “You will?” Her voice caught and Cai’s hand wrapped around her waist, drawing her back into his strong chest, holding her upright.

  Ryan nodded. Each of the guys met her stare, and nodded. She turned, Cai maintaining his hold on her waist, until she could see Apollo.

  His face was pale, the skin drawn tight against the bones in his face. His hands went to his cheeks and he dragged them down the sides of his face. “Okay, Nora,” he whispered. “Okay.”

  She stepped toward him, and when she thought he might run away, he stepped toward her as well. Cai squeezed and then released her into Apollo’s arms. He dropped his face into the crook of her neck, his lips tracing her shoulder. He pressed a kiss against her skin and whispered again, “Okay, Nora.”

  Bliss

  Nora spent a quiet evening with the guys. She found herself passed from one to the other, often held tight until she was released directly into the arms of the next person.

  She’d expected them to want space from her, to be angry and annoyed. The decision she made was in direct opposition to their very logical reasoning. It should have made them push her away, but instead they wanted her closer.

  She wanted to deserve their love. How could they be so forgiving and supportive? Would she ever stop waiting for them to tell her, “You know what? This was crazy and not at all worth it.”

  She rested her head on Seok’s shoulder, blinking sleepily. She wasn’t going to enlighten them on the ways they could do better.

  “Your head feels heavy.”

  “Sorry.” She jerked away.

  “I think it’s because all your thoughts are weighing you down.”

  She snorted.

  “Do you think you’re the first of us to do something the rest don’t like?”

  Pulling away so she could see his face, she met Seok’s dark serious eyes. “Really?” she asked, having a hard time believing they were anything but perfect.

  “Of course.”

  Matisse nodded from his seat across from her. “All the time. I don’t like what you’ve decided any more for understanding it, though.”

  “I know.” Her face flushed.

  Seok kissed the side of her head and pulled her tighter against him. Closing her eyes, she let the boys’ voices drift in and out of her awareness. She picked up threads of conversation, and let them go. Her body was lax and warm, and Seok’s scent surrounded her.

  Her body jerked, the way it did sometimes before falling asleep, and she opened her eyes, She was in her bedroom. It was dark, but she was warm and comfortable, snuggled beneath a comforter. A soft puff of air pushed her hair into her face and turned.

  Seok slept next to her. He had a small pucker between his eyes, not unlike Ryan when he worried. She reached out, smoothing the lines away with her thumb. He let out a huff of air and turned onto his back. Propping herself on her elbows, she watched him sleep.

  Like a creeper, her mind supplied.

  Shut up. It isn’t creeping when he’s your boyfriend.

  Her face broke into a smile. It was the first time she really thought about him that way. Her boyfriend.

  She found herself mouthing the words, “My boyfriend, Seok Jheon.” His last name made her lips tingle and she said it again, “Jheon.”

  As if he heard her, he opened his eyes. He blinked up at her in confusion and then smiled, pushing his sleep mussed hair out of his eyes and reached for her shoulders. He pulled her into his body, pushing her head onto his chest.

  “Sleep.” His voice was deep and rough.

  “Sorry,” she whispered against his chest. His naked chest, she realized.

  She puckered her lips, kissing him gently. The skin pebble beneath her lips. She skimmed her hand across his skin, and he shivered, threading his fingers into her hair.

  She kissed him again. Her body hummed. “Aren’t you tired” she asked.

  He fisted her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling gently against the back of her head. He shook his head, bringing her face closer and closer to his until he could capture her lips. Even when he had her where he wanted her, he didn’t let go. He reached up with both hands, tilting her face, drawing his lips down her neck. He let go, grabbing her hips and dragging her over him so she straddled him.

  “I’m very much awake right now,” he answered, flexing his hips so his erection rubbed between her legs.

  Her head fell back, rising and falling with each push of his hips into hers. He sat up, his hands going to her sides and skating her t-shirt up and over her head.

  “I love the way you feel under my hands,” he whispered.

  Nora loved the way his hands felt on her. His palms were rough, and his fingers calloused, but when they moved along her skin they created a delicious friction that went right to her core. “Don’t stop.”

  He pressed his fingers a little harder into her back, raking them along her spine and she cried out.

  “Don’t stop this, nae sereang?”

  She melted a little at his endearment. “Yes.”

  His fingers stopped, the beautiful pressure halting. “Stop?”

  Amusement tinged his voice. But she could play the game, too. She reached between their bodies, fingertips delving beneath the loose elastic band of his boxer shorts until her palm cupped the smooth head of his erection. She didn’t grasp him, but ran her hand back and forth across the tip of his penis. Slowly, her fingers curled beneath the mushroomed head, tracing and curling, rubbing and teasing.

  All the time, she kept her eyes open, watching his face. She noticed the way his pupils dilated when her finger touched the damp slit, and the way he bit his lip when she finally wrapped her hand around his length and smoothed it down his shaft.

  His body moved against hers. She couldn’t get the friction she needed, but for some reason, watching his face turned her on almost as much as having his hand, or his mouth, on her body. She twisted her hand, strong but gentle, as she pumped him. He made a noise then, and his teeth sunk harder into his lip. She reached up, tugging it free from his teeth and licked it with the tip of her tongue.

  He dove for her mouth, but she pulled back. “I want to see your face…”

  He groaned, and she tightened her grip, just a little. Her thumb swept over his tip, scooping up some of the dampn
ess to help her hand glide along his sensitive skin. She moved a little faster. Two spots of red appeared on his cheekbones, blooming outward. His head fell back, and his strong throat moved as he swallowed and groaned.

  She leaned forward, kissing the base of his throat, all the while maintaining her rhythm. “Come on, Seok,” she whispered, smiling against his skin. She didn’t know where her confidence came from.

  When she first met Seok, he made her head spin. He flashed hot and cold, and she walked on eggshells. But here, watching every unguarded emotion flash across his face, she was fearless. She could see what gave him pleasure, and committed those actions to memory. She wanted to remember how he gasped when she smoothed her palm over his tip, and groaned when she pumped and twisted her hand.

  He yanked her face to his, devouring her mouth. She increased her speed, loving the way his tongue tripped over hers now, and how he mashed their lips together.

  She did this to him.

  She made him lose sense of everything except feeling good.

  She pushed down on him, at the same time lifting herself onto her knees and pressing her bare breasts against his chest. He groaned again, this time jerking and thrusting into her hand. Slowly, she loosened her grip, barely making contact with his skin as he came down from his orgasm. When he did, he took control of their kiss again. His hands going to her neck, and tilting her head. His tongue dipped into her mouth while one hand dropped to her back. With a move leaving her dizzy, he spun them both until he could settle over her.

  He drew his nose along her neck and then back up to her ear. “My turn.”

  Interview

  “I’m so glad you changed your mind, Nora.” Dr. Murray smiled at her, clicking the top of his pen and leaning his elbows on his knees.

  He is the definition of interested. With his head canted to one side, his glasses in one hand, the pen in the other, all together it made the picture of a sensitive doctor.

  “Thank you for your assignment.” He leaned back, waving the paper she’d handed him when she first arrived. “I’ll read it later and formulate questions for our next session. Today, we’ll be completing two tests. For the first, I’ll be reading you a series of statements. I would ask you answer: agree, disagree, strongly agree, strongly disagree, or are neutral.”

  She nodded, interlacing her fingers tightly.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is more important to get along with others than to be right,” he began.

  “Agree.”

  He smiled at her, made a notation, and went on. The questions were varied. They went from how she felt in social situations, (“You do not usually initiate conversations,”) to her work ethic, (“You respond to emails immediately. You cannot stand a messy inbox.”).

  She answered honestly, at times saying, “Neutral,” if none of the statements struck her as something she cared about.

  “You rarely do something out of sheer curiosity.”

  “Strongly agree,” she answered, lifting her thumb to her lips.

  “You feel superior to other people.”

  “Strongly disagree.” She bit down on the skin, nibbling away the tiny hangnail.

  It didn’t take the doctor long to finish. “You’re very decisive,” he remarked, putting aside the test and folding his hands together.

  “I suppose so.” She shrugged. “What did it tell you?”

  “I have to score it. It will give me a description of your personality. Sort of a summary of traits. Extrovert/introvert. Intuitive/observant. Thinking/feeling, etc.”

  “You mean, am I an introvert or an extrovert? Do I make a decision based on my feelings or my observations?”

  “Essentially,” he answered.

  “Will you tell me?”

  “If you’d like.” He stood, crossing over to his desk.

  They were in the basement of Converse Hall. The walls were bright white, and Dr. Murray’s voice echoed off the cinderblock walls. It hurt her eyes, so she tried to look only at him or her hands. Behind him was a two-way mirror, and she suspected his teammates, Nils, Jessica, and Grant, were watching.

  “Is your team watching?”

  He took a stack of cards off his desk, glancing quickly over his shoulder. “Some.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Does it bother you?”

  “Would it matter if it did?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course it matters, Nora. For this session, I could make a video tape for them to view later if you objected strongly to their presence.” He considered her for a moment. “Do you?”

  Eventually, she shook her head. “No. It doesn’t bother me when they observe.”

  “But it will bother you when they participate.”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t…” She stopped herself.

  He sat, tapping the collection of cards on his leg. “Don’t trust us?”

  She blushed. She wanted to lie, or paint herself unaffected by his team, but they did bother her, and she didn’t trust them. She didn’t know the reasons they did the things they did, every move they made was suspicious.

  “What’s the next test?” she finally asked.

  “Nice deflection,” he laughed, and held up his cards. “An IQ test.”

  “Oh.” She leaned forward, interested despite herself.

  What Nora thought were cards, were actually a series of pictures he propped on the table. He took out his phone, setting it up where he could see it. “The first portion of this test is a verbal section, sort of like the SAT. I expect you’ll do very well on it. Let’s begin.”

  Hours passed. She answered analogies, informative questions, comprehension questions. Eventually, she completed a timed mathematics test. Someone brought them water, and gum. She had a bathroom break, and a stretching break, but then it was right back to work.

  Finally, he closed the test and put his pen on top of the form. “You’re finished.”

  Nora sat back in the chair, rubbing her eyes and stretching her neck. There was a soft knock on the door, and Jessica walked in.

  “Hello, Nora.”

  She sat up straighter, unconsciously glancing at Dr. Murray before back to Jessica, who gave her a small smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Hello,” she answered.

  She held a small black case at her side. “I need to take your pulse and blood pressure, please.”

  Reaching for her sleeve, she pulled it up over her elbow. Jessica squatted in front of her, placing her fingers on her wrist and watching her watch.

  “40,” she called to Dr. Murray.

  He wrote it down on the paper, his raised eyebrows his only response.

  She wrapped a cuff around Nora’s arm, inflating it so it squeezed her tightly before releasing the pressure with a hiss of air. “110 over 70.”

  “Thank you,” he answered, writing it down as well and leaning back in his chair. He flung his glasses onto the table between them and sighed. “I think we’re done, Nora.”

  “Yeah? Okay.” She stood, collecting her bag from the floor and her coat from the back of a chair. “Will you tell me the results?”

  “Of both?” he asked. “Are you worried about the results?”

  She shook her head. The results would have no impact on her life. “I’m curious.”

  “If you’d like,” he repeated the same answer from earlier. “How do you think you did?”

  “I think I did better on the verbal portion of the test than the performance portion. But I’m sure it’ll show I’m solidly average.”

  “Most of us are.” He smiled.

  “Have you signed up for classes?” Jessica asked, standing up and putting the pressure cuff away.

  She shook her head. She owed nearly ten thousand dollars to Brownington right now, or at least she did until Dr. Murray called the business office and had a few of those fees removed.

  Still, she’d end up owing the school money, and she didn’t want to be more in debt to them, or to Dr. Murray
, than she already was. So she decided to hold off signing up for classes.

  She’d also agreed to live with the guys, a concession she made considering how much they didn’t want her to do the study at all. It made them happy for her to stay with them. Perhaps she should be embracing her independence and fighting harder to maintain it, but the truth was she wanted to stay with them. She reveled in the idea of waking up each morning with them, carpooling, eating dinner, grocery shopping. All the normal, boring relationship things people did when they lived together. She wanted them to get on her nerves, annoy her when they left the toilet seat up and she sat in cold, toilet water in the middle of the night.

  She looked forward to all of it.

  “Why not?” Jessica watched her with interest.

  She wondered if she cultivated her air of innocence, like she’d wondered earlier about Dr. Murray’s kind face. There was no proof for her suspicions. Yes, they had taken her on a real-life Fast and Furious ride, but they explained to her its purpose. And yes, the study seemed to be designed to keep people in it, loading them down with debt if they quit early, but was any of it mercenary? Maybe Dr. Murray was being smart. He had a study to run. It needed long-term participants, and it wouldn’t work if his participants abandoned ship willy-nilly.

  The stick and the carrot. He employed both.

  “I couldn’t take them for college credit,” she answered. “And I would owe you too much money should I decide to quit.”

  “You’re not planning on quitting, are you?” He ran his hands through his hair. “Again.”

  She shook her head. “But I also don’t plan on owing Brownington ten thousand dollars for nothing.”

  He waved aside her concern. “I’ll call them later. I’m sure I can get them to delete most of the fees. Probably not the room and board though, you may be stuck with that one. Are you sure you don’t want to stay on campus?”

  “I have a place to stay now.”

  Dr. Murray checked his watch and she recognized the signs he was dismissing her. “When do you need me again?”

  “I’m going to score your tests. It may be a week, may be less. Here. I want you to have this.” He reached into his bag and handed her a phone.