by Zara Chase
He caught her arm in a viselike grip as she paced past his position. “What else am I supposed to think? He doesn’t leave you alone for five minutes, and the two of you seem pretty damned tight.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I owe him.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course you do.”
Briana resisted the temptation to pummel his chest with her fists, but only because it was so damned solid that she’d probably hurt herself rather than him. “He was here for me when I needed him, but I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about neighborly behavior.”
“You were right about your temper matching your hair color,” he said, surprising her by the abrupt switch in his mood. “I look forward to checking that the collars and cuffs match.”
“In your dreams! You don’t get to talk to me like you just did and then pretend everything’s hunky-dory.”
“I’m sorry.” He shrugged impossibly broad shoulders. She recalled the precise dimensions of those shoulders as they’d looked when he’d spent the day working without his shirt on. She shook her head to dispel the image. She was mad as heck at him and didn’t need those sorts of distractions tempering her…well, temper. “I don’t know what it is about you, Miss Briana, but you seem able to stir up aspects of my character I’m not proud of.”
“Not good enough.”
“No, I guess not.” He sent her a smoldering smile. “Tell me what Greg did to make you feel so beholden to him.”
“I thought you’d already figured it out for yourself,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Look, I’m sorry. Can we start over? Just humor me.”
She ought to tell him to go to the devil. Instead, something in his attitude, his hangdog expression, and the haunted look in his eye quelled her anger.
“If you must know, I got back here too late to see my grandmother before she died. She’s the only real parent I ever had. How do you think that made me feel?”
“Briana, I—”
“You wanted to hear this, so shut up and listen. I had no idea Gran was so ill. She made everyone I keep in touch with promise not to tell.” Briana felt tears welling but willed them away. She was angry with this jerk, not upset. “She didn’t want me to see her the way she was at the end, and so I never got to say good-bye.”
“Shit, Briana.” He loosened his grip on her arm but didn’t release her. “That must have been tough.”
“You have no idea, because you have no heart.”
“That’s not precisely true.”
“I was alone, and upset, and Greg kept me company. He did all the horrible things that I didn’t want to face, like talking to the funeral parlor and, well…I appreciated it. He was a good friend when I needed one. Besides, I didn’t want to be alone.”
“So he kept you warm and cozy at night?”
“You really are a piece of work.” She gave him the benefit of her best assault glare. “It’s not that way with us. He wants it to be, but I don’t. There’s no pizzazz between us, nothing to tempt me to look upon him as anything more than a friend.” She pulled out of his grasp and folded her arms across her chest. It was chilly out here, but she was so riled up that she barely felt the cold on her bare arms. “There won’t be anything between us, either. You’ve spoiled what I thought might be a fun encounter with your possessive jealousy.”
“I’m sorry, babe—”
“Besides, you know just about everything there is to know about my life, but I know diddly-squat about yours because you haven’t seen fit to share, and I’m too nice to probe.”
He moved so fast that she didn’t realize what he intended to do until it was too late to stop him. Suddenly he wasn’t the one leaning against the wall anymore, but she was. He placed one hand on either side of her head and braced his arms. A few inches of space separated their bodies as his handsome face loomed over hers. Even so, she felt his vital heat searing into her and found it difficult to maintain her anger.
“Let me go,” she said, trying to duck beneath his arm. “I’m pissed with you.”
“You have every right to be.” He shook his head, sending hair cascading across his eyes. “I’ve behaved like a jackass.”
She bit back a smile. “No arguments there. Wanna tell me why?”
He was quiet for so long that when he finally spoke it took her by surprise. His voice was pure liquid venom, and the bitterness in his expression made her shiver.
“I was married in a previous life,” he said.
“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to Briana to ask if any of them were married. She’d just assumed that they weren’t. “You say was. What happened?”
“She was the love of my life, and I was the happiest man on earth, especially when she told me we were going to start a family.” He grimaced. “I’ve always wanted kids.”
“Were you in the marines at the time?”
“Yes, but mostly based Stateside so we didn’t have to be apart that often. Our daughter was born three years ago next month.” A flicker of a smile broke through his granite expression. “Needless to say, she was the most beautiful, the most perfect baby in the world.”
“I’m sure you make a fine dad.”
“That’s what I once thought, too.”
He fell into a sullen silence, and although she was burning with curiosity, Briana sensed it would be better not to prompt him. Whatever he had to say, he clearly didn’t enjoy talking about it. She only hoped the baby hadn’t died, but that’s what she assumed, because he spoke about parenthood in the past tense.
“When she was a year old, my daughter got sick and needed a blood transfusion. Turned out she has a rare blood group.” He paused for what seemed like forever, scowling at a point above her head. “And you know what’s so damned amusing? Neither Sheila nor I shared that group. Nor could we produce a child who did.”
“Oh, no. That’s terrible.” Instinctively Briana lifted one hand and gently traced the line of his cheek, smoothing away the anger lines at the side of his mouth, wishing she could erase the hurt she saw reflected in his eyes as easily. “She’d cheated on you.”
“I guess you could say that.” The concentrated fury in his expression stole Briana’s breath away. “And when she was caught out, she tried to put the blame on me, saying she got lonely when I was away.”
“Did she know the baby wasn’t yours?”
“No, how could she? I guess she just hoped.”
“Did the little girl recover?”
“Yeah, her real daddy did just about the only thing he’s ever done for her and gave blood.”
“No wonder you can’t stand people lying to you.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“Presumably you divorced.”
“We sure did, but I still support her and our little girl.”
“Even though she isn’t yours?”
“Her real dad took a hike when the shit hit the fan. Someone has to take care of them.”
“Not all men would be so understanding,” she said softly, conscious of the storm leaving eyes that had become dark and intense. His lips hovered a whisper away from her own, and she breathed in the essence of him—a combination of sandalwood soap, anger, and hot, desirable male. “Do you still see your wife and daughter?”
“Oh yeah, every time the three of us make a tour of our families.” He paused. “My ex is Gus’s sister.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re the only person I’ve ever spoken to about it,” Fergal said.
“Has it made you feel better?”
“Nope, but this will.”
He lowered his head and captured her lips in a deep, demanding kiss. Fire lanced through his veins when she parted her lips and allowed him to invade her mouth with his tongue. She tasted of champagne, strawberries, and the outdoors. She tasted like heaven. His arms closed possessively around her body as he crushed it against his own—her soft curves a thrilling contrast to the solid pl
If they carried on like this, he’d have to take her, right here, right now, on the verandah. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hard, so desperate to sink his dick into a warm, tight pussy. Her warm, tight pussy. That wouldn’t be fair to the others, so he reluctantly broke the kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I set eyes on you,” he said softly. “I’m real sorry that I behaved so badly.”
She kissed the end of his nose, her eyes muddy with passion. “You’re forgiven, but just so you know, this is a no-strings-attached thing. I don’t do emotional attachment.”
“Me neither, not anymore.”
“Good.”
“Any more conditions you wanna lay out?” Fergal asked, running his fingers down the length of her spine until his hands came to rest on her pert ass.
“Nothing springs to mind at this particular moment.”
“Then I guess we’d best go join the others.”
“How come you’re still such good buddies with Gus, after what his sister did to you?”
“It’s not his fault. He was mortified when he found out she’d been mixing more than just soufflés with one of the chefs in their dad’s restaurants. So was the rest of her family. I don’t have any close relations of my own, so Gus’s lot kinda adopted me when Gus and I first joined the marines and got friendly. I spent most of my leaves at their place in Chicago, especially when Sheila and I started dating.”
“And where’s Sheila and your daughter now?”
“They moved to Florida, but always seem to be in Chicago whenever we are. Funny that. Anyway, it’s good to see my little girl, but I try to avoid Sheila.”
“Because she wants you back?”
How the hell does she know that? “Perhaps, but it ain’t gonna happen.”
The door opened just as Fergal pulled her into his arms again.
“I hate to interrupt,” Harley said, “but Gus says you’re to come right now or the food goes in the trash. You know how he gets when he’s got his chef’s hat on.”
Fergal rolled his eyes. “Don’t I ever.”
He laced his fingers with Briana’s, and all three of them returned to the great room, just behind Max, who’d obviously seen the door open and smelled the food. Gus looked relieved when he saw Fergal and Briana walk in, hand in hand.
“You guys need to sit down right now,” he said.
“Briana’s overdressed,” Fergal said as she was about to slide into the seat that Harley held out for her.
“I’m what?”
“Remember what we told you last night,” Fergal replied, sending her a curling smile. “Our games don’t start in the bedroom, sweetheart. They start when I say they do.”
“Who put you in charge?” she demanded.
“He’s the boss,” Harley replied quietly. “Don’t fight him, Briana. Just do as he says.”
Fergal watched carefully for her reaction to Harley’s words, wondering if they were taking her too far, too fast. She’d been pretty angry outside, and he wasn’t sure if she was completely over it yet. Come on, darlin’, you know you want to. When she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and met his gaze with one of reckless sensuality, he wanted to punch the air in jubilation.
“Take your dress off,” he said.
“What! You want me to sit at the table in my underclothes?”
“Darlin’, if I decide it’s appropriate, you’ll sit at the table in the nude.”
Her eyes sparkled, her face colored, all vestiges of anger replaced by intense anticipation. “All right, but I need to—”
“That would be all right, Master, or all right, Sir,” Fergal corrected, taking a seat directly opposite the one that Briana would soon occupy. “Whenever one of us speaks to you, you will respond with respect. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” She turned her back toward Harley. “Would you help me with my zipper please, Sir?”
Harley sent Fergal and Gus a triumphant look over Briana’s head as he yanked down her zipper and Briana stepped out of her dress. All three men inhaled sharply. She was wearing a near-transparent black bra, edged with red and yellow flowers, with matching panties and garter belt. She blushed deeply as she absorbed their scrutiny, but Fergal could tell she’d already gotten over her embarrassment and had to be enjoying the looks of appreciation they made no effort to conceal. Her legs were fantastic, her butt small and pert, her tits as ripe and plump as Fergal had hoped they would be. He could see dark nipples and pebbled areolas pressing against her bra. And as for those freckles, Fergal planned to spend hours joining up the dots with his finger. Or perhaps something a little sexier.
Briana made to sit down, but Fergal slapped his hand on the table, causing her to jump.
“No one told you to move.”
“Sorry, Master.”
“You may sit down, Briana.”
When she did so and Harley had pushed her chair in for her, her tits formed a ledge that could easily rest on the edge of the table. Shit, how long could he hold out before getting his hands on them?
“Place your hands behind the back of your chair, Briana,” he said.
As soon as she did so, Harley cuffed them in place. It pushed her tits out even more, obliging Fergal to suppress a groan. He was supposed to be the one in control here, but, fuck it, it was hard—quite literally—to remain in that role.
“Hey, how can I eat if—”
“No one gave you permission to speak.”
“I have to have permission to say something?”
“Pardon?”
She swallowed. “I have to have permission to say something, Master?”
“Absolutely. You also keep your eyes lowered, unless we tell you to do otherwise. As for eating, Harley and Gus will feed you.”
Gus cut the Spanish tortilla he’d made as an appetizer into small squares, speared one piece with his fork and placed it against her lips. She disobeyed Fergal’s last order by fastening her gaze on his face as she parted her lips and swallowed down the food. Fergal locked gazes with her as he cut up his own food and took a bite. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and continued to defy him by holding his gaze.
“Is your cunt wet, Briana?” he asked.
“Yes, Master.”
“Get a towel, Harley. We don’t want her ruining a perfectly good chair because she can’t control her desires.”
Harley grinned. “I’ll be right back.”
Gus lifted her wineglass and placed it to her lips. He tilted it as she drank and a little wine trickled down her chin.
“Leave it,” Fergal said when Gus made to wipe it away.
Harley returned with the towel, and Briana lifted first one buttock and then the other so he could place it beneath her. Then all three men watched in fascination as the red wine trickled down her chin, landing on her breast bone. Gus leaned forward and licked it away, slowly. Briana gasped but remembered not to speak.
“Did either of your lovers ever clamp your nipples?” Fergal asked as the meal continued.
“No, Master. Why would they?”
“You’ll find out.”
They’d finished the entrée, and Gus cleared away the plates. He returned a short time later with a dish oozing fresh cream and fruit.
“We’ll have dessert in front of the fire,” Fergal said, standing up.
“I couldn’t eat another thing,” Briana said. “Master,” she added hastily.
“You’ll do as you’re told,” Fergal replied, fixing her with a stern gaze.
Harley released Briana’s hands and helped her to her feet. She walked slowly toward the great room, and Fergal, directly behind her, grinned when he saw her honey trickling down the insides of her thighs. She was turned on, ready to play. They wouldn’t have any trouble getting her to agree to what he had in mind for her next.
* * * *
Briana felt detached from what was happening to her. It couldn’t possibly be her, parading about in her underwear in front of three men who appeared to like what they saw. No one had fallen about laughing when they saw her belly, her pendulous tits, or her ugly knees. They didn’t even seem to mind her freckles, possibly because she still had some clothing to hide behind. If, when, they removed her bra and her tits fell down to her knees, they were bound to come to their senses and tell her they’d made a mistake.
Briana was starting to get impatient with them. This looking business was all very well, but none of them had touched her yet, and Briana was desperate to be touched, if only for reassurance. She gasped when she reached the fire. In front of it was a huge comforter, large enough for them all to occupy it. Was that what Fergal had in mind?
Before she could decide, she felt his firm body pressing against her back as his large hands moved around to cup her breasts and his rigid cock pressed into her ass. He tweaked the nipples hard enough to make her gasp as he weighed her hated appendages in his hands.
“Very nice,” he purred in her ear.
He likes them?
Briana opened her mouth to tell him that he didn’t need to pay her false compliments. She was well aware of her physical shortcomings. Then she remembered she wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to and closed her mouth again. She felt Fergal fumble with the clasp and her bra fell away. He threw it on the floor and caught her breasts as they tumbled free, rubbing and massaging them with sweeps of his capable hands while nibbling at her shoulder blade and sending delicious thrills sliding through her.
Heavens, someone had unfastened one of her stockings and rolled it slowly down her leg, turning the simple task into something that was sensuous beyond her imagination. It made her feel feminine, desirable and slim. The pulsating ache throbbing through her sensitized body sent a vortex of desire shooting straight to her pussy. She’d never known anything quite like it. If anyone so much as touched her sopping cunt then she’d probably come then and there, such was the strength of her desperation.
-->