by Jane Jamison
“We love you, you know.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Is that so? I thought you were just horny.”
“Well, yeah. There’s that, too.”
She kissed Mica lightly on his lips as Brick massaged the cool lube into her dark hole and around the tight muscles encircling it. Mica’s tongue flicked over her nipple, then captured it between his teeth.
“Hey, don’t go forgetting I’m back here.”
How could she when his thick cock was already pushing at her opening?
“Guys, do you think this is safe? Anyone could come around the back and see us.”
“That’s half the fun, right?” murmured Brick.
“Half?” She arched, thrusting her breasts forward for Mica’s pleasure, while her bottom pushed toward Brick, urging him to give her what she needed. “Naw. I wouldn’t say it’s half.” Sexual wickedness took her over as she reached down and guided Mica’s cock inside her pussy. “This is where the real fun is.”
They took her then, plunging into her at the same time just as they knew she liked it. The afternoon sun beat down on their skin, warming her on the outside as much as they warmed her body and her soul. They moved, three becoming one, lost in a world all their own. As she lifted her face to the sky, she couldn’t help but send out a prayer of thanks. Not only had she found her men, but a new home as well.
The sensations, coupled with the sizzle of the never-diminishing connection, swept her up and over the edge of the world, lighting every nerve ending, infusing every breath she took, sending the taste of them skimming over her tongue.
Mica’s soft grunts matched his brother’s and her muted sounds set up an accompaniment to theirs. They filled her, not only with their cocks, but with their essence, their presence completing her more than she’d thought possible. Locked between her men, she gave in to the storm encompassing her, riding her up and beyond where she’d never gone before. How every orgasm could be better than the last was beyond her, and she’d possibly never know. Not that it mattered. Instead, she gratefully accepted the gift.
Finely tuned to each other, they came together, each releasing their orgasm to coincide with the other two’s. She cried out, no longer worried someone would see or hear them. The men roared, Mica throwing back his head to howl, while Brick put his forehead against her back to ground his out.
Their shudders were shared, the men’s flowing into hers as hers wafted into them. Once she was back on her feet, they held each other, in no hurry to get dressed. Instead, they enjoyed the afterglow together, savoring the experience and pushing it to last as long as possible.
“We love you, baby,” said Brick.
Mica murmured his own sweet words, letting them caress her.
She had no doubt of their love. She could feel it, sense it, hear, and taste it. “I love you, too. More than I thought was possible.” Sighing, she realized they had to get dressed.
It was difficult, but she managed to push away from them. Their heated looks followed her as she smoothed her hair and pulled on her clothes. At least, this time they hadn’t torn her shirt or her underwear. She was always having to buy more clothes. “We need to hurry. I’m supposed to meet Sandy in Milly’s.”
“Why couldn’t she just come out to the ranch?”
She poked Brick on the nose, playfully chastising him for his complaint. “You know we like getting together at Milly’s. You men have to let us off the ranches every once in a while.”
“Who says?”
Mica received his own poke on the nose. “Just because. Besides, she has some news she’s dying to tell me. And no, she didn’t want to tell me over the phone.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”
Caressing Mica’s cheek, she gave him the only answer she wanted to give. At least until later. “I’m fine. It was probably just the flu that had me bent over the toilet this morning.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Look. Just because I don’t have the constitution of a werewolf— at least not yet, anyway—that doesn’t mean a little upchucking is a big deal. I’m still alive and kicking, aren’t I?”
“Okay, okay.” Brick tugged his shirt on. “You can’t blame a man for wanting to make sure, can you?
He received his own caress. “Not in the least. Truthfully, I like it when you worry about me.”
She pushed their seeking hands away and hurried back around to the front of the diner. As she usually did whenever they met in town, Sandy already had the table in the farthest corner and a pot of hot coffee waiting for her.
She headed for her friend, then stopped and placed a hand on each of her men’s chest. Even then, after getting sexually satisfied, renewed desire for them flooded her. But if she gave in every time she craved them, she’d never get out of bed. “Uh-uh. You two head to the counter and get yourself some lunch. This is women’s talk.”
Sliding into the chair closest to Sandy, she poured a cup of the steaming brew, then sat back. “What’s up, girl? It’s been ages since we got together.”
Sandy nibbled on a ham sandwich. “Do you want to get something to eat first?”
Why did Sandy keep glancing away? “No, thanks.”
“Okay.” She took an even smaller nibble.
Since when did Sandy start eating like a bird? Did she look a little green around the gills? Was her food bad? But that couldn’t be it. Milly’s food was always good.
“So tell me. Have your parents come around?”
Daniella didn’t like talking about her parents. She hadn’t wanted the first few months of settling into her new home overshadowed by the sorrow consuming her after she’d confronted her parents with the news that she’d left L.A. Then when she’d told them she was living full-time with not one, but two men, she’d known their already fragile relationship was broken, perhaps for good. They’d acted as though she’d ruined her life and theirs. Why couldn’t they understand that she could still pursue her dream of becoming a stylist while living in Forever? Whenever she had to, she’d travel to Dallas, New York, and Los Angeles to conduct business.
“I bet you already know the answer to that question. They’re still disillusioned, disheartened, and disappointed in their so-called worthless daughter. My father’s lawyer called me the other day to say my father has written me out of his will. I’m just surprised it took him so long to do it.”
After taking away her expensive car, jewelry, and trust fund, he’d finally given her the ultimate penalty for ignoring his demands. He’d disowned her completely, taking away any inheritance she’d ever hoped of getting. She’d been as surprised as he was when she’d laughed, telling his attorney that she didn’t care about his money.
Her father, the infamous and very wealthy Juniper Monson of Monson Oil Company, had never expected his daughter to go against his wishes and move to Los Angeles. But moving to Forever? That was incomprehensible.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. And your mother?”
“I think she’s convinced herself that she never had a daughter. Moving in with two low-rent ranch hands—her words, not mine—isn’t her idea of suitable marriage prospects. Especially because there are two of them. God knows how she’s going to hold up her head in polite society.”
The last video chat she’d had with her parents hadn’t lasted long. They’d ended the conversation after she’d ignored her father’s furious shouts to get “her head on straight again and get the hell back home.” Her mother had only shaken her head in dismay, unable to understand where she’d gone wrong. Raising Daniella to enjoy a privileged life hadn’t prepared her for a daughter who insisted on living life on her own terms.
“Do you think you can make them understand after they’ve had time to cool down?”
She shrugged, again surprised she wasn’t devastated by their reactions. Disappointed and sad, but not devastated. She was stronger than they thought she was. Stronger than she’d thought she was before meeting her men. “I’ll try, but I’m
not holding my breath. Anyway, enough about my parents. Let’s talk about you. What’s your big news? You’re not backing out as my matron of honor, are you?”
“Of course not. And Celia’s still in, too.”
“Good. I’m heading out to her place this afternoon with Harriet Brewler.” Harriet was the best seamstress in the area and Daniella had set her to work on making not only dresses for Celia and Sandy, but her wedding dress, too. She didn’t want a fancy wedding gown from Dallas or New York. She wanted something simple that would fit her new life.
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Sandy was taking too long to tell her. And yet, she didn’t get the impression that it was bad news. In fact, her friend was trying hard to keep from smiling too big. “Okay, what gives?”
“I need to come along with you to Celia’s.”
“O-kay. But why would you bother asking? You know it’s fine with me.”
“Yes, but I wanted to tell you why before I showed up for the ride. And definitely before I spring it on Harriet. You know how upset she can get about changes.”
Everyone knew about Harriet’s temper. And the loose hold she had on her inner werewolf whenever she lost her cool. She could easily go ballistic and shred the gowns with her sharp claws.
She leaned closer, eyeing her friend. Patience was one virtue her men had taught her, but Sandy was pushing the limits of it. “Uh-huh. Go on.”
“I want you by my side when I tell Harriet she has to change the style of my dress.”
“Un-oh. She’s not going to like that. Besides, why would she need to? The dress you picked out is beautiful.”
“Well, remember when I blamed my weight gain on Mack’s cooking?”
“Yeah.” An idea blossomed. Could it be true?
“Well, I can’t blame it all on the food. Because…”
There it was. The smile she’d tried to keep suppressed.
“I’m pregnant.”
They were on their feet, squealing, and hugging each other. “That’s terrific, Sandy. I’m so happy for you. Have you told your guys yet?”
“Of course. But you, Harriet, and Celia need to know. For obvious reasons.” She patted her slightly rounded stomach. “We want to keep it our little secret until the first trimester is over.”
“This is so amazing. You’re going to be a great mother.” There was only one thing that was better than finding out Sandy was pregnant.
“Thanks. It’s all a little scary considering the whole werewolf thing, but I’m sure it’s going to be great.”
They were drawing attention to themselves with all the hugging and now the tears. “I guess telling your men first is the traditional way to do it.” Did she dare? Would Brick and Mica mind?
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
She needed to stay quiet and let it be Sandy’s time. However, she hadn’t planned on Sandy’s intuition kicking in.
“I saw that.”
“Saw what?”
“That face you just made. What aren’t you telling me?”
Damn. She’d tried to keep the news hidden, but it was impossible around Sandy.
“Everything’s all right, isn’t it?”
She retook her seat, bringing Sandy back to hers. “Sure. Everything’s terrific.”
“Then why do I get the feeling you’re the cat who just swallowed the poor canary?”
“Okay, I can’t stand it. I was going to wait, too, but I can’t.” She literally squirmed in her chair, then looked at Brick and Mica with eyebrows raised.
Her men knew her all too well. One glance at each other and that was all it took. They motioned Sandy’s men to join them, then strode over to their women.
“Go on. We can see you’re about to bust.” Brick’s hand on her shoulder comforted her.
“Can I tell them, Sandy?”
“You don’t have to. Mark already told us. Congratulations.” Mica slapped Rick on the back. “We’re thrilled we’re going to be honorary uncles.”
“Are you kidding me? You told them without asking me first?” Sandy’s irritation, however, shifted quickly to bemusement. “I should’ve figured my big mouth men couldn’t keep quiet. And they say women are the gossipers.”
“Hey, don’t rag on them too much,” added Brick. “A man’s first child is something he wants to share with his friends.”
“Is that right? Okay, then, that means you won’t mind if I tell Sandy.” Daniella paused, giving her own men time to stop her. They looked at her, then with dawning realization, they looked at each other.
“Oh, shit.” A wide grin slid across Mica’s face. He hugged Brick, slapping him on the back.
“Tell me what?” Sandy glanced from one to the other. “Somebody tell me.”
When they didn’t protest, Daniella couldn’t wait a second longer. “I’m pregnant, too.”
Sandy’s squeal turned every head in Milly’s. Again, they were on their feet and hugging. “This is even better. Our children will grow up together.”
“Best friends just like their moms.” Her joy felt like it would burst out of her chest. The only thing better than having the child of the men she loved was going through the pregnancy with her best friend.
She touched first Mica, then Brick. “Which is why I’m waiting until after I give birth to be changed.” Transforming while pregnant was risky. She wouldn’t do anything to endanger their child.
Sandy hugged her again. “And if both of us have three or four more, we can start our own pack.”
“Oh, wow. I hadn’t thought about that. A pack of our own.”
A pack of werewolf children? Her first child might be part-werewolf, but the baby would still be accepted into the community. All her children, human, hybrid, or shifter would be loved by all of Forever.
Daniella looped her arm around her best friend. “Come on. We’ve got to tell Harriet. She’s going to have to redesign your dress and my wedding gown to make room for our growing bellies.”
“Okay.” Sandy winced. “But you’re the bride. You have to tell her.”
“Fine. But I’m throwing you in front of me if she loses it and shifts.”
Together, they strolled out of Milly’s Coffee Spot hearing everyone’s congratulations.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jane Jamison has always liked “weird stuff” as her mother called it. From an early age she was fascinated with stories about werewolves, vampires, space, aliens, and whatever was hiding in her bedroom closet. To this day, she still swears she can hear growls and moans whenever the lights are out.
Being born under the sign of Scorpio meant Jane was destined to be very sensual. Some would say she was, and remains, downright sexual. Then one day she put her two favorite things together on paper and found her life’s true ambition—to be an erotic paranormal romance author.
Jane spends at least six days a week locked in her office surrounded by the characters she loves. Every day a new character will knock on the door of her imagination. Her plans include taking care of her loving husband, traveling, and writing at least twelve books a year.
For all titles by Jane Jamison, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/jane-jamison
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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