It scared her. She was used to floating around, belonging to no one and nowhere and calling nothing but her few possessions that were just as detached as she was something that was her own. What could this man do that would make her want to stay with him for the rest of her life? It had to be the charming smile and the way he looked at her as if she were deserving of the attention of the entire world. No, that wasn’t quite it. It was the way he acted with Andrew as well. There was true love there, the kind that was only written about in epics. It might not be inherently sexual in nature, but they were closer than any brothers would ever be. She wanted to belong to a tightly knit group of such people: charming and confident Michael as well as genius and kind Andrew.
She leaned up and placed a chaste kiss along the slope of Michael’s jaw.
They were in a room that was dark and absolutely perfect. Michael moved around the place as if he knew it as well as his own and flipped on a soft lamp that barely cast any light over anything, but it would be enough for them to make out each other’s shapes and see the changes in their bodies as they brought each other pleasure.
Michal arranged Megan on the bed in a comfortable position and took his plaid shirt off, leaving him in his wife beater. She liked the look on him, and the pounding desire that was like a second heartbeat deep in the pit of her stomach washed through her entire body with a force that was strong enough to make her gasp.
A moment later, the door opened and shut, and Andrew was there as well. He had unbuttoned his shirt, and Megan could finally see the definition of his six pack and the way his pectorals stood proudly. She imagined running a tongue in between the muscles and watching Andrew’s face contort with desire. She whimpered. Andrew immediately leaned over her leg, mistaking the sound for pain. “Are you okay?”
“Bed. Now.” She hardly got anything else out before he was beside her, fingers twining in her hair.
Megan distantly heard Michael ask if it was okay if he took bottom and heard Andrew’s grunt of approval before his lips were crashing into hers. She gasped against the sudden pressure, lips molding against his as if they had been created for that very purpose. His lips were a unique blend of soft flesh and force that bordered on pain. She opened her mouth, allowed him to enter, and as their tongues slid over one another, she felt an electric bolt of desire go directly to her aching core. She pressed herself harder against him in the best way she could while lying immobile with Michael’s legs trapping her to the bed.
“Are you ready?” Andrew asked as he broke away and glanced up at Michael.
The cowboy nodded, and he put a hand on Andrew’s arm. “You don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’d like to see you try to stop me,” Andrew all but snarled, and Megan could feel his length pressed against her, hard as rock. She shivered at the sensation and slid one hand up his muscled abdomen to push the shirt off of his shoulders. He leaned back down and captured her lips in a kiss once more, effectively swallowing her sound of pain and surprise as Michael lifted her legs and placed them around his hips. Andrew’s tongue flicked out and ran along her bottom lip, sending little crackles of electricity down her body that only intensified as she felt Michael slowly enter her. She whimpered at the damn close to heavenly sensation.
It had been so long since she had been so attended to, so loved. The beauty of it nearly brought tears to her eyes as she felt Michael fill her up and Andrew grip her head harder, other hand feathering light touches down her abdomen, removing her hastily undone clothes and cupping one breast in his hand. He didn’t break the heady and intoxicating kiss for several long moments as pleasure spiked through Megan’s body over and over again, originating from so many different sources that it was nearly overwhelming.
When he finally did, Megan took a deep, long draught of the air that had been replaced by Andrew for however long her body could stand it and glanced up at him. His hair was mussed, eyes laced with the after-effects of alcohol and burning bright with passion.
He leaned down to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a quick and breathless, “Wait.”
He frowned down at her, confusion clouding the passion in his eyes for a mere second before she rested her fingers against his length, still fully clad in trousers.
“I’m ready now,” she whispered, trying to convey with anything but words that she wanted to reciprocate the pleasure he was bringing her.
He understood, nodding and quickly taking his clothes off. She was able to take all of him; a trick of ignoring her gag reflex that she had learned long ago. It was just as good seeing him from down here, and now that she was able to have her eyes free, she could watch both of them at one time.
She watched as in the throes of passion, Michael reached out and placed a hand against Andrew’s shoulder, drawing him closer and squeezing his bicep hard enough to bruise. Michael whispered not her name, but Andrew’s, but it didn’t bother Megan one bit.
This was different than anything she had done before. The threesomes she had been a part of before had been with straight men. They had kept touching each other to a minimum. It had been about her, and they had ignored the other man, leaving the triangle of giving and receiving incomplete. This was a completely alien experience, to see two men that clearly cared for each other with her. It was beautiful in a way that Megan didn’t think anything else would be. It was a complete circle, and it satisfied something deep inside of Megan.
The cresting pleasure made her forget anything else, and she came in a white-hot shuddering wave of pure bliss. Andrew came next, arching above her in a sight that would rival the sight of heaven in its beauty, and finally Michael spent himself, leaning over Megan for a few moments before claiming her lips in a demanding, rough kiss that softened at the end to something slow and tender. Something that melted a part of her that she had thought was permanently hardened.
To her surprise, he then pulled out and grasped Andrew’s arm and repeated the action, nipping at his lips slightly as a form of permission before fully kissing him. The doctor grunted and pulled himself flush against Michael.
After a few moments, the two broke away from each other and Michael collapsed on one side of Megan, spooning himself against her. He murmured something in her ear that sounded like a thank you, and then he was asleep.
Megan smiled slightly and glanced up at Andrew. He was frowning down at her. “Are you in pain?”
“No, Doctor,” Megan said. “Come to bed,” she added softly, reaching a hand out for him. He hesitated a moment, and she recognized the look. It was the look of deciding whether to face one’s fears or flee from them. She was in no position to give him the advice to stay, because she had run her entire life, but her entire being ached for him to face whatever demons he had dealt with in his past and lie against her and complete the circle.
When he slid into the bed next to her, Megan smiled and closed her eyes. His arms went around her, and she was cocooned in handsome men. This was something she could get used to.
As she drifted off to sleep, Megan finally concluded that she was done running. She finally felt as if she fit in. The feeling was a foreign one but the best emotion she had felt in her entire life.
THE END
© Copyright 2015 by Maya Grey - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Taken by the Bear
by Ruby Scott
"How long are you gonna keep that up?"
Ella looked up from her desk, startled; she'd been gazing at the memorial pamphlet from Jacob's funeral, and now her eyes were blurry from re-reading the same block of text for three uninterrupted minutes. She'd forgotten her coworker was even
there, in fact, and had assumed she'd walked away when her head bowed to study the pamphlet again. Rachel was still there, though, bespectacled face turned up to look at something above Ella's head. She felt the first stirrings of anger and was ready to defend herself, and then she turned to look at the wall, realizing the other woman was talking about the huge silk banner that read FAMILY FIRST INSURANCE.
It had been carefully pinned there in 2010 when she'd first started working for the company, even before she grew so close to the staff. Before they were comfortable with her, before they'd stopped calling her Miss Morales in odd, formal tones and started inviting her over for dinners. She knew even then that this place--- a refuge only thirty miles away from the nearest sprawling city, but still so close-knit and rural that people knew every doctor and policeman by name and most doors were still unlocked at all times--- was the most special place she'd ever lived. She could feel the earth there sing to her bones, and the need to put down roots was so strong that she'd taken out a loan as soon as she found a job. For the first time since Brandon's death, she felt more than content and totally complete. None of the eight places she'd lived in the two years after her fiance's death had given her that, and this town had given her happiness consistently for five years.
She studied the banner now, realizing what the impending name change really meant to her. They'd no longer be First Family, who put family first--a motto Ella found insufferably saccharine at first until she accepted the fact that every single employee believed in it, wholeheartedly. Jacob had liked to say that it was a requirement for working there. It was only half true. There was another requirement, one that only Ella was exempt from, until now.
"I don't know," she said finally. "Maybe forever."
Rachel looked at Ella closely. "You think the new boss will like that?"
"I don't care," Ella said bluntly. "I like the reminder. I don't want to this place to get completely absorbed by some soulless parent company that runs a huge chain."
"That's what a buyout is, though," said Rachel, her voice low as she looked over her shoulder. The new owner wasn't due until the next day, but most of the employees there avoided confrontation as if their lives depended on it. "And what if the new customers don't like it?"
"They don't have to." Rachel tried to hide her shock, and Ella felt a frisson of regret; Rachel really was just trying to help, and she was being unnecessarily indelicate. Ella sighed, gathering her mane of dark brown hair into a ponytail to wring fretfully. Rachel was getting up to leave now, worry painted across her round face. She was probably going to get one of the other women in the office to try to come talk to her later. Ella felt bad but didn't have the energy to stop her. The old mother bear could take it.
It seemed like everyone was doing much better after Jacob's death, even Rachel, who had been his niece. The rest of the staff weren't like Ella, though; she'd been orphaned at 10 years old, and when she'd turned 12, the types of homes that would take her as a foster child were rough at best. She preferred the streets. Until she was 18, she drifted aimlessly from home to home, then went off on her own, staying in shelters and renting rooms, going to community gatherings when she could so she could maintain her sanity and the sense of belonging she'd desperately craved. Then she'd met Brandon, a bear shifter, and they'd fallen in love.
Ella fingered the ring she wore on a chain around her neck, bearing Brandon's inscription. Their engagement had been a natural progression from their close relationship and was barely even discussed before it was cemented. He proposed at the cafe where they met---he'd been working as a waiter, and she came in to see him every day. It was picturesque, and Ella could hardly believe it; the only other relationship she'd ever seen exist in such a storybook fashion was her parents', a love story she used as a model against all others. He was a once stoic Mexican immigrant who softened when he met the beautiful Choctaw ballet dancer at a party. They'd even died holding hands. Brandon never made it to their wedding day, however. He was hit by a car crossing the street on the way to work, a month before the wedding. It was what spurred her wanderlust, and it was why it took her eight towns before she decided to try again.
Now her world was changing again. The man who found her crying in a diner and took her in, giving her a job and helping her find a new place, was gone. Jacob became the father she'd never had, not caring that she wasn't a shifter herself, but understanding what grief does. He introduced her to the largest group of shifters she'd ever been around---his company. Each employee was family or a family friend, and all of them were shifters. It was illegal, but if insurance companies found out that you were a lycanthrope or even worked closely with them, they would try to cut you off. They were almost always successfully. Until legislation tightened the loopholes, Family First--- and other small insurance companies---catered exclusively to shifters and their loved ones. They'd operated for thirty years, until Jacob Smith's fatal heart attack. His widow couldn't run the business on her own, and no one else had the acumen to take over everything Jacob handled. So they'd had to sell, and were becoming a part of Burney Insurance, a growing chain with at least one office in each of the lower 48 states.
"Ella."
She looked up from her desk, annoyed to see Rachel there. Her annoyance was replaced by fear when she realized that Rachel was wearing her bad news face---huge eyes, pinched mouth, shoulders slightly hunched.
"What is it, Rachel?" Ella asked softly.
Rachel took a deep breath.
"The new boss wants to see you in his office."
Ella felt like she was marching to her execution. She stopped several times to adjust her dress over her curves, cursing her wide hips for making pencil skirts creep up her backside. Ella was comfortable with her body most of the time, even loved it, but knowing the new boss wanted to see you because he'd probably overheard you trash talking him sapped every bit of confidence from her body. She examined herself in the small hand mirror in the ladies room before she went in, grateful her dark brown hair was neatly styled, at least. The door was open, but she knocked on the frame before stepping in.
A man with impossibly broad shoulders stood with his back turned, head bowed over something in his hands. He wore a navy blue vest over a white shirt and crisp navy pants. She could see that he was heavily muscled and caught herself gazing at the snug seat of his pants for a few moments before he spoke. "Close the door, please." He still hadn't moved.
She closed the door quietly, taking a seat in an unfamiliar green chair on the near side of the desk. He had a thick head of rich brown hair, wavy and expertly styled. Ella wondered how long it took, then wondered why she was thinking about her new boss' hair instead of ways to get out of trouble. She could pull the grief card because she was still grieving. Her train of thought stopped when he turned around and settled his cool gray eyes on her. He was handsome, but that wasn't it; her mind cast about, trying to figure out where she'd seen the square jaw, dense eyelashes, and capacious nose. Then she realized she'd seen it at Jacob's funeral. She didn't know if this meant something good or bad.
The man sat down, and she noticed a nameplate on the new desk: ETHAN JAMES. Her eyebrows crinkled.
"Something wrong?" He said. When she met his eyes again, she felt jarring sensation like she'd been jostled on a train.
"Uh..no," she mumbled. "I was expecting your last name to be Burney."
He smiled pleasantly, and it didn't reach his eyes. She felt a desperate swooping feeling in her stomach. Ella closed her eyes. "My grandfather's name," he explained. "I understand you expected a lot of things."
"Sir," Ella started, reaching for words that weren't there. "I'm so sorry." Ethan held up a hand, and Ella was glad because she was done. "I understand regime changes aren't the easiest things to deal with. But I'd like to clear some things up. This is not a soulless conglomerate or anything like it."
Ella felt her face burn with embarrassment and hoped her skin wouldn't show it.
"Like Jacob---and I gather you've r
ealized I knew him before his death---I want to make insurance a reality for shifters like it is for everyone else. Like Jacob, I believe workplaces are better when you're a family."
Unlike Jacob, you don't know what it is to be a real shifter, Ella thought bitterly, feeling her blood start to boil. Who did this guy think he was? Surprisingly, Ethan laughed. "I see you don't like me comparing myself to Jacob."
Ella blushed again, flustered. "I didn't say---"
"You didn't have to. You should know that your aura gives off your emotions, Ella."
Ella stared at him. Could he read her aura? She let her confusion seep through her anger, watching him carefully.
His eyes widened. "Oh. You didn't know I was a shifter." He laughed heartily, and it infuriated her.
"How was I supposed to know the owner of a huge chain was a shifter? You don't exactly go around publicizing it."
Ethan narrowed his eyes at her. "You know I knew Jacob. Why would Jacob pass his business along to a non-shifter? A business meant to benefit shifters specifically? Why would he even get a non-shifter involved?"
The last of her patience snapped away. "Just call me useless if that's where you're headed with this, Mr. James," She spat. She stood up angrily.
"Whoa!" Ethan threw up his hands and stood as well, his height making the move more impressive. "What's going on? I'm not insulting you." The wispy white tendrils of confusion creeped into his aura. "Why would you think..."
Ella stepped back involuntarily as his eyes burned into hers and she felt the air in the room change; he was feeling her out with his powers. A curious unlocking sensation spread through her body like a wall was crumbling away inside her mind. He must have felt it too, because his eyes widened and leaned against his desk.
Romance: JADEN: An MMA Fighter Romance (Bad Boy Tattoo Romance) (New Adult Pregnancy Short Stories) Page 28