by Maya Banks
her veins.
She felt Greer’s fingers trail over her arm in a lazy, reassuring manner, and her senses reeled at the idea that he was there, waiting.
Taggert kissed her again and then carefully rolled away. He rose from the bed and went to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a towel cupped over his groin. He carefully wiped and then gently cleaned the sticky semen from the insides of her thighs.
When he was done, he tossed the towel away and lay on her other side. She was flat on her back, her gaze too unfocused to do more than trace random patterns on the ceiling.
Greer’s hand rested on her belly, rubbed gentle circles before moving to palm first one breast and then the other. Instead of rising as she expected, he simply reached for her, pulling her up and over him until she blanketed his body.
She loved the feel of him underneath her. Hard, big, so strong. His hands stroked her body until she swore she purred like a sated cat. She arched into his caresses then dropped her head to kiss him.
“So sweet,” he murmured. “You taste just like I dreamed you’d taste.”
She smiled and nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth. Then she all but crawled up his body so she could position her breasts at his mouth. She wanted his lips around her nipples, wanted to feel the erotic pull of his mouth.
“Can you take me?” he asked hoarsely. “I don’t want to hurt you, Emmy. If you’re tired or sore I’ll wait.”
Ignoring his question, she shimmied back down his body until his cock nudged impatiently between her legs.
“The question is, can you take me?”
His eyes gleamed and sparked as he stared up at her. “Do you worst, love.”
With a smile, she reached down and tucked his cock to her opening, rising up as she did. He was as big and hard as Taggert, but God he looked longer. She glanced nervously at him then back again.
His hand rested on her waist but he waited, not pushing.
“I won’t hurt you, Emmy,” he said softly. “Take as much of me or as little of me as you want. It’s all up to you.”
She eased down, feeling him stretch her as she lowered herself onto him. He reached to hold her, to offer support and she grasped his arms for leverage.
Her knees dug into his sides, and she closed her eyes before rising to give her better position to take all of him. The sensation of him filling her was delicious. So hard, big and thick.
Already she panted, her body coiling into a tight ball of intense sexual heat. She came down forcefully, gasping as she stretched more when he pushed deeper.
“Take it easy, baby,” Greer chided as he lifted her hips to ease the burn.
“No,” she whimpered. She wanted it all. All of him. All he had to give.
She released his arms and placed her palms flat on his chest, rose over him and slammed down, taking him into her body in one heated rush.
His fingers curled into her hips at the same time a breathless curse slipped past his lips.
“Ride me, Emmy. Make me yours.”
Her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. She rose and fell, gripping him with her knees. She rotated, bucked and took him hard.
Her hair slid forward, a curtain over her shoulders. The strands tickled Greer’s skin, and he wrapped his hands in them, gathering until his fists rested on her shoulders. Then he extricated his fingers and let them slide down her body until he cupped her breasts, rolling the sensitive peaks between his thumb and forefinger.
Her pussy fluttered and convulsed wetly around him, and unbelievably her orgasm rose when just moments before she’d been limp and sated.
“Come with me,” she whispered. “When I do.”
“Always. Always with you.”
She closed her eyes as he raised a hand to her cheek. She nuzzled into his palm, enjoying the simple pleasure of his touch.
Fluidly she arched over him, undulating, finding a smooth rhythm that had them both straining. Their harsh breaths filled the air, and when she opened her eyes, her unfocused gaze found Taggert, still lying on the bed, his eyes glowing with lust. And love. For her. All for her.
She reached for his hand even as she gripped Greer with her other. She stared at them both with all her love for them to see. The words stuck in her throat. She was too gripped by emotion to force them past stiff lips. But she could show them.
She guided Greer’s hand down to where they were joined, and he slipped a finger through her folds until he found her swollen little nub. His fingers spread the hood, baring her clit to his touch. He stroked, just light little touches but it was enough to send her right over the edge.
She jerked, gripping Taggert’s fingers until they were bloodless. A low cry of desperation burst from her chest. It hurt. God, the tension was so great she was going to shatter.
Up and down, she slammed against his body, driving him deeper, harder.
“Emmy!” Greer cried.
His finger pressed hard against her clit, and she shattered. He arched convulsively into her, and she was too tired, too devastated to continue the ride. So he held her hips and did the work as his release flooded into her.
Long after she’d slumped forward, his hips rose, his thrusts easing in and out of her. And then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her so close she could feel the frantic beat of his heart.
He kissed her hair and then her temple. He raised his hands to pull the heavy curtain away from her face, and she lay limply over him, absorbing his strength.
“Ours now,” he murmured. “Ours, Emmy.”
She smiled and glanced lazily up at Taggert who lay there still watching. She raised her hand and he laced their fingers together before letting them fall to the bed beside him.
“Yours,” she said simply.
Chapter Ten
Emily lay between Greer and Taggert, one arm and leg thrown over Taggert and her head resting on his shoulder. Spooned behind her, Greer rested his hand possessively on her hip and he kissed her bare shoulder.
Peace. For the first time in a year peace filled her. Sweet. Unending. So exquisite she wanted the moment to last forever.
With a wistful sigh she snuggled a little deeper into the crook of Taggert’s arm.
Some of the constant ache she’d lived with ever since Sean’s death dissipated as she felt the steady reassurance of Taggert’s heartbeat and Greer’s warm lips brushed across her skin.
And then, because she couldn’t stand another moment without saying it, she whispered, “I love you.”
They both went still beside her, their bodies tense. Not even the sounds of their breathing could be heard. The silence hurt her ears. It was harsh. A white void that filled her with insecurity all over again. It was too easy to go back to that awful day when her world had irrevocably been turned upside down.
“Do you mean that, Emmy?” Greer asked as he stroked the curve of her behind.
Taggert raised his head to stare into her eyes. There was such hope reflected in his gaze. And fear. She found herself staring at the same insecurity that rocketed through her chest.
“I’ve always loved you. That’s never changed. It didn’t change when I married Sean. I loved him. I loved you. I’ll always love all of you.”
Greer put his lips to her shoulder again and left them there. She felt the slight tremble as if he were trying valiantly to come up with just the right words.
Taggert shifted and came up on one elbow. He touched her cheek, his finger tracing the line of her jaw and then lightly feathering across her lips.
“I love you too, Songbird. I think I’ve always loved you.”
Her heart swelled, and she swallowed to alleviate the discomfort. An ache bloomed but a different kind of ache. Not the sharp, incessant pain of grief and longing. This was overwhelming. Hope budding and unfurling like a flower seeking the sun.
“I love you,” Greer whispered against her skin. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
She closed her eyes against the sting of tears
. It wasn’t fair. How could she hope to have it all when she didn’t have Sean?
“Emmy, look at me.”
Taggert’s command, tender and coaxing, penetrated the fog swirling in her mind. She forced her gaze to his, her lips trembling even as he continued to stroke his thumb over her mouth.
“Tell me why you blame yourself for what happened.”
Her pulse jumped and stuttered. She tried to shrink away, but she was caught between the two men. There was nowhere to run.
“Sean gave up so much for me. For my dream. He loved me. Protected me. He died protecting me.”
Greer kissed her nape, and his fingers curled over her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
“He grabbed my throat—the attacker—he was so angry. He kept saying I’d ruined everything. He was…” She could feel his hand tightening around her neck. Feel the pressure as he squeezed. Remember the absolute knowledge that she was going to die. “He had to be some obsessed fan or someone like my father who felt my career was an abomination,” she finished in a barely audible voice. “My singing, my gift, killed Sean. I should have been happy to have just been with him and away from my father. We could have had a wonderful life, but I was so determined to prove my father wrong. My anger and my resentment killed the man I loved more than anything.”
Taggert sucked in a stuttering breath. His hand fell away from her face for a moment, and she refused to look up at him. She didn’t want to see judgment in his eyes.
“Is that why you won’t sing?” Greer asked.
Her hand flew to her neck. Her pulse jumped crazily against her fingertips.
“I can’t,” she said honestly.
“You will, Songbird,” Taggert said. “Right now you’re afraid, but when you feel safe again, you’ll sing.”
She shook her head, but he leaned down and kissed her, refuting her denial.
“It’s not your fault,” Greer said as Taggert pulled away. “You can’t second-guess your entire life. Sean was proud of you. He loved you. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. You know that, Emmy. If you look past your hurt and grief, you’d admit to yourself that he’d have no regrets.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” she said quietly. “But I do.”
“So do I,” Taggert said. “But I can’t torture myself forever over them. All I can do is try to make things right. With you. I want the chance, Emmy.”
She lay back, staring at the ceiling as she listened to Taggert’s and Greer’s rough breathing beside her.
“Are you sure?” she asked even as her chest swelled with hope. “Is this something you both want or is this a sympathy move for your dead brother’s wife?”
“That’s a shitty thing to say,” Greer said in a low voice.
She pushed herself up, crawled to the end of the bed and turned so she could see them both.
“I’m not trying to be shitty. I have a right to ask these questions. Have you and Taggert even considered what kind of life we’ll have? God knows I didn’t give it any thought before I came barging in here four years ago throwing my feelings around.”
She hated the hint of vulnerability that shadowed her voice. Hated even more that her hands shook.
Greer elbowed up and shifted his body so he was closer. The muscles in his shoulders rippled as he reached for her. She put her hands out to ward him off, but he caught her fingers and threaded them through his.
“What we’ve considered is that we’ll have a life with you. That’s all we care about. Will it be easy? Hell, I don’t know. I’ve never even tried to wrap my brain around a situation like this. Did I accept it overnight? No. I wish I had. Then maybe you and Sean would be here. It took me a long damn time, but I know what I want, Emmy. I want you.”
“Oh Greer,” she whispered. “Don’t blame yourself. What I wanted—what I suggested was so out of bounds. You can’t blame yourself for thinking I was crazy.”
“I’ll make you a deal.” Taggert’s eyes glittered with grim determination. “You don’t blame yourself and we won’t blame ourselves.”
“The point is, we can play the blame game for eternity,” Greer said. “But it won’t change a damn thing. Sean’s gone. We can’t bring him back no matter how much we want to.”
Pain slashed through her chest, and tears clouded her vision. He didn’t say it to be hurtful, but the resignation in his voice got to her in a way nothing else had. Sean was gone. He wasn’t coming back. Ever.
She rolled away, unable to face either of them. She clutched her arms and bowed her head, willing herself not to break again. There was nothing left. She didn’t have the strength for another emotional outburst.
Strong arms surrounded her, holding her, offering her love and support.
“Emmy.”
Said so tenderly her heart clenched, her name slid over her ears and straight into her soul. She turned her face up to see Greer looking at her with the pain of so many memories burning in his eyes.
“We loved him too. We miss him. But he’s not coming back. You’re alive. You have to live. You can’t go on like you have. Taggert and I love you. We want you to stay with us. We know it won’t be easy. We don’t even know what to expect. It’s new to us and we’ll have to work at it. Together. Give us the chance we didn’t give you four years ago. Let us love you.”
She raised haunted eyes and looked straight through Greer’s soul. He felt her pain. It was a tangible, terrible thing. Her grief spilled over into the room. Her guilt. If only he could take it away. He couldn’t. But he could love her. He could cherish her. Offer her all the things he should have given her four years ago.
He glanced over at Taggert and saw the same grim resolve reflected on his face. Emily was theirs. They might not have always acknowledged it, but it didn’t change the utter truth. She belonged to them. She’d always belonged to them.
She sagged against Taggert in a gesture of surrender. Fatigue hollowed her eyes. Making love to her when she was so fragile had probably been a bastard thing to do but he—they—had been unable to resist any longer. They’d waited a damn long time. They weren’t waiting anymore.
Taggert pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head and snagged his fingers in her long hair.
“Lie back down, Emmy. Rest. I’ll be here. Sleep and we’ll face tomorrow together.”
She closed her eyes and then allowed Taggert to ease her down on the mattress. She crawled onto the pillows and curled into a tight ball. She fell asleep before either man could recline beside her. Instead they sat toward the end of the bed watching the soft rise and fall of her chest.
Greer drew in a deep breath and avoided Taggert’s thoughtful stare. Hell, he was sitting on a bed in his underwear with his brother after they’d made love to the same woman. It didn’t get any weirder than that.
He slid off the bed and stood abruptly, his back to both Taggert and Emily.
“She’s right you know,” Taggert said in a low voice. “Have we really considered the life we’ll have? We’ve talked some but mainly we’ve avoided the issue, believing it’ll all work out. But will it?”
Greer cursed under his breath. He didn’t appreciate Tagg’s cold logic. Not now. He didn’t want reality. Didn’t want to face any harsh truths. What he wanted was to keep Emily safe from the world. From her bastard father and the prying eyes of others. But that wasn’t possible. They lived on a ranch where a number of other hands lived as well. How would they look at Emily knowing he and Taggert both shared her bed and her love? Would they think she was some easy lay, there for any man’s taking? He’d kill any son of a bitch who ever acted on that impulse.
“We can only control the way we deal with things. We can’t make others accept it. We can’t keep them from speculating. Any life we have with Emily will be open to the public if she goes back to singing, and if I have my way, she will sing again. She stands to lose more and be hurt more by her relationship with us. If she can deal with it, then I sure as hell can take whatever heat we get.”
Tagg
ert nodded, some of the tension easing from his brow. “You’re right. If Emily is willing to put so much on the line to be with us, then I can man up and do the same. I just don’t like the idea of her being hurt. She’s been hurt enough.”
“Her father could be a problem.”
Hatred for Cecil Patterson left an acid taste in Greer’s mouth. The idea that he’d beaten Emily filled him with such rage that it