by Maya Banks
“Queasy. And yes, tired. Like oh-my-God tired. And my breasts are sore. But the fatigue was what clued me in. It was exactly how I felt with Rose—like I didn’t even want to get out of bed. I felt that way for much of my pregnancy, and it’s why I never really recovered when I went home with her.”
Dillon’s expression grew fierce. “That won’t happen this time. You’re going to rest. You aren’t going to lift a finger. And after the baby is born, you’re coming home and you’re not going to do anything more than hold or feed the baby.”
Her heart ached at the protectiveness in his voice. If only she’d had them when Rose was born. So many if-onlys. She reached down to place a hand on her still-flat belly. She couldn’t bring Rose back. And she couldn’t replace her. But she could give birth to her brother or sister, and a part of Rose would live on.
Dillon picked up her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. “I love you, Lily. We’ll take care of you and our baby. I swear it.”
She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and held on. He trembled against her, so much emotion shuddering through his big body.
“I know you will, Dillon. I love you too. So much. You and Michael and Seth saved me. You save me every day.”
When she pulled away, Michael tugged her into his arms and cradled her close.
“Do you want to tell the rest of the family or would you rather wait awhile?”
Lily hesitated. “I thought it would be a great Christmas present. For everyone. A new Colter. The first grandchild for your parents. Everyone will be together this year. Somehow it just seems fitting to break the news then.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Seth said, joy lighting his eyes.
“You know what I think would be an even more wonderful idea?” she said in a low, husky voice.
Dillon’s hands tightened on her thighs as though he recognized the tone in her voice and knew exactly what it was she was up to.
“What’s that?” Dillon asked in a near growl.
“If you all took me to bed and made love to me.”
“Oh hell yes,” Michael said as he rose from the couch. He was already reaching for her, pulling her up from Dillon’s lap.
He swept her into his arms, cradling her against his heart. He gazed down at her, relief and love like a beacon shining in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said, his voice hoarse and a little shaky.
She reached up to touch his face. “I love you too.”
He carried her toward the bedroom, followed by Seth and Dillon. Once there, he laid her gently on the bed and kissed her deep and sweet.
There was a reverence to their every touch as they undressed her. Their touches were gentle, so much so that it made her chest tighten and ache. Their fingers stroked, their palms caressed, and their lips kissed.
She lay there naked, spread out before them as they stood over the bed, their gazes riveted. Their eyes brimmed with love, with adoration. Tears burned her lids because she could feel their love. They didn’t just say the words. They lived them each and every day.
It had nearly broken her when Seth had asked if she no longer wanted the relationship with him and his brothers. Never did she want them to doubt her love or her commitment.
She watched as they undressed. She never tired of seeing their bodies, of holding her breath as each piece of clothing fell away. They still did that to her. Still made her light-headed and turned her on with nothing more than a stare.
Michael was the leanest of the three. Taut, muscled. Not as broad shouldered as his brothers, but he was a bit taller. While Seth and Dillon had short, clean haircuts, Michael had shoulder-length, mussed hair that she found adorably sexy. She always thought it was his one rebellion. Nothing about him would make anyone think he was a rebel. He was extremely intelligent, quiet, and tended to be serious.
Seth was broader and his muscles more developed. He maintained a disciplined fitness regimen, especially since he’d been laid up and out of work for several months after being shot two years ago.
Dillon was the stockiest of the three. Massive shoulders, bulging arms that sported tattoos. He had an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that often irritated others, but those who knew him knew he had a heart of gold and when he loved, he loved with all his heart, deeply and without reservation. He was loyal to his toes. All the Colters were. It was a principle drilled into them from birth.
Family wasn’t just something. It was everything.
Dillon leaned over her, pressing his hard, warm body to hers. He was careful to hold most of his weight off her as he stared down into her eyes. He stroked his fingers through her hair and then leaned down to kiss her.
“Are you more sensitive now?” he asked huskily. “I’ve heard women’s breasts can be painful during early pregnancy.”
She smiled. “Yeah, they’re extremely tender. They feel bigger, and if I so much as bump into something, it’s like stubbing a toe.”
“Then we’ll be extra careful with you.”
He moved to the side of her, laid back, and then reached for her arm. “Get on top,” he coaxed. “I want to look at you, and I know they do too.”
Seth took her hand and helped her sit up, and then Michael was there, helping her slide over Dillon’s thighs. She settled just below his straining erection, allowing it to rest against her belly.
No one could resist such temptation.
She wrapped her fingers around the thick base and gently slid her hand upward to the tip. The bed dipped and Michael and Seth got in on either side of her. Seth leaned in, kissing her shoulder, nipping gently. Michael cupped one breast ever so gently in his palm, then leaned down to brush a light kiss across the top.
Her nipple immediately hardened and instead of aching discomfort, she ached for his touch. She wanted his mouth, even knowing how hypersensitive her breasts were at the moment.
Dillon slid his hands up her legs and over her hips to her waist. Then he lifted her, positioning her so she was over his cock.
There was a sense of urgency, almost as if he couldn’t wait to get inside her, to reaffirm his possession. As soon as she pushed down, enveloping his hardness, his nostrils flared and his eyes closed.
His hands shook at her hips and then he tightened his grip as she took him all.
Seth turned her face to his, kissing her long and deep. “Is it okay? He’s not hurting you, is he?”
She returned his kiss hungrily, wanting more. She wanted it all. All three men loving and cherishing her. Making love to her as only they could.
“No,” she whispered. “But I want more. I want you.”
Seth sucked in his breath. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “You won’t hurt me, Seth. The baby is safe. We don’t have to stop making love. At least not for a while. I need you.”
The soft plea turned his eyes warm and soft but then they glittered and his pupils dilated. His breathing sped up as he pulled back and pushed up from the bed. A moment later he returned and rained a trail of kisses down her spine, to the small of her back, and then over the curve of her behind.
His fingers were gentle as he parted her cheeks. The lubricant was warm, as if he’d rubbed it between his hands so it wouldn’t be cold. His fingers slid easily inward, easing the passageway.
For several breathless moments, she remained still, mounted on top of Dillon, whose cock was hard and deep within her. She tried not to move as Seth’s fingers worked sensuously in and out of her tight opening.
Her pussy tightened around Dillon’s cock with each stroke of Seth’s hand and Dillon groaned, his fingers digging into her waist.
Michael stayed to her other side as Seth carefully positioned himself at her entrance. Michael stroked her hair, caressed her breast with featherlike touches, and then bent down to run his tongue over the taut peak.
She sighed, or maybe it was a moan. She was edgy and itchy all over. Eager, impatient. They were being so incredibly careful and
she loved them for it. Maybe she even needed this gentleness from them when she felt so vulnerable.
They weren’t in any hurry, and they seemed determined that each movement fully express how much they adored her.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered against Michael’s lips as he returned to kiss her.
He smiled but shook his head. “This is all for you, baby. We’re not taking. We’re giving. I’m just going to stay right here and I’m going to kiss you and tell you how much I love you while Seth and Dillon bring you as much pleasure as they can. And then afterward, I’m going to hold you and our child while you sleep.”
The beauty and sincerity of his words clutched at her heart. She reached over, thrust her hand into his hair, and pulled him closer so she could lock her lips to his as Seth slid past the resistance of her body.
She gasped into Michael’s mouth. The sudden fullness was overwhelming, as it always was. No matter how often they took her in this fashion, the thrill never wore off. It was always as exciting as the very first time.
“Tell me how it feels,” Michael growled into her mouth. “Tell me what it feels like to have them both inside you.”
“Like heaven,” she whispered. “I so love when all three of you are a part of me. Inside me. Showing me your love and allowing me to show you mine.”
Michael’s hand fisted in her hair just as Seth and Dillon found their rhythm. Dillon held her more gently now, his hands on her hips, holding her in place for their combined thrusts.
Her eyes were half-lidded as she stared into Michael’s eyes. Her hair was drawn tight, the strands wrapped around his fingers as he held his fist firm.
“Please,” she begged softly.
Michael blew out his breath in a ragged spurt. “Like I could damn well refuse you anything.”
He maneuvered up, standing and leaning back toward the headboard. Then, using one hand as leverage against the wall and leaving the other tightly wound in her hair, he pushed his hips forward until his cock pressed against her mouth.
She ran her tongue over the tip, appreciating the moan that spilled from his lips. Then she sucked him inside, wanting that last connection.
They were all three a part of her. Deep inside her.
She relaxed, allowing the tension to ease and the fear that had knotted her insides for so long to slide away.
She let them take the reins. Let them have control. She trusted them. She was in their hands. In their care.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and took Michael as far as she could, savoring the taste and feel of him on her tongue.
Seth slid deeper into her body in an alternating rhythm with Dillon. When Seth pulled back, Dillon sank deep. When Dillon retreated, Seth pushed forward.
Their movements were exquisitely tender. No hurry. No frantic race to completion. It was as if they’d determined that they had all the time in the world and they weren’t rushing a damn thing.
Dillon’s hands left her hips and trailed up her belly, pausing for a moment to caress her abdomen. Then he went higher, palming both of her breasts in the most tender of gestures.
He ran both thumbs lightly over the puckered nipples, all the while making sure he didn’t press too hard.
“Touch yourself, Lily,” he said huskily.
Having long since lost her self-consciousness when it came to lovemaking, she lowered one hand to Dillon’s taut abdomen and then trailed her fingers down to his groin where their bodies met and meshed.
She slid her fingers between them, through damp folds, until she stroked over her clitoris.
Immediately her body tightened all over. Seth and Dillon both let out strangled sounds. Her mouth molded tighter around Michael’s cock and his fingers tangled in her hair once more, holding her in place while he stroked back and forth over her tongue.
“That’s it,” Dillon murmured. “Pleasure yourself. I want to see you come apart right in front of my eyes. I want to feel you tighten all around my dick and then bathe me in your heat.”
Her nostrils flared and her body began to tremble all over in response to the seductive words. Dillon had such a wicked tongue. He had a way with words that never failed to tilt her right over the edge. He could talk a woman to orgasm. She was convinced of it.
Seth’s hands gripped her behind, held her as he began to thrust more forcefully.
She was teetering. So close. So very close.
She rubbed her clit in a circular motion, stroking the taut, sensitive bud with one finger. Harder. Faster.
The world went hazy around her. All she was aware of was pleasure. Beautiful, never-ending pleasure. And the love of the three men who’d changed her life forever.
Inside her. All of them. Deep. Loving.
She let out a soft cry around Michael’s erection and then went liquid in their arms. Seth and Dillon both held her up, supporting her with gentle hands.
Michael slid out of her mouth, though she knew he hadn’t come, and she slumped forward onto Dillon’s chest as Seth shuddered behind her, in the throes of his own orgasm.
Dillon twitched, arched his hips up one last time and then he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms solidly around her, holding her as he poured himself into her body.
For the longest time, she lay there, softly panting, eyes closed as she savored the aftermath. All too soon, Dillon shifted and then she found herself lifted into Michael’s arms. He turned, rolling with her so she was nestled into his side on the bed.
She snuggled into his embrace, tangling her legs with his. She wanted to be close. Didn’t want any space between them.
And then Seth was behind her, molding himself to her back, one leg thrown over hers so she was completely and utterly surrounded by him and Michael.
She smiled against Michael’s neck. This was love. This was her life.
This was home.
CHAPTER 11
CALLIE sat at the vanity in her bedroom brushing her hair, but her gaze never left Max as he shrugged out of his shirt and prepared to go shower.
He wouldn’t take long. He never did. Not when he showered alone. Which he’d been doing with increasing frequency lately.
Usually … She stroked through her hair again and frowned as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Usually he took her into the shower, washed her hair and every inch of her body. Then and only then did he quickly see to his own shower, and when they were done, he’d dry her body and her hair and then she’d await his next instruction.
Chill bumps danced across her skin at the memory of some of those instructions.
One simply never knew with Max.
His power and his confidence enticed her. His dominance gave her a measure of comfort nothing else could.
In his arms, she was free to be herself. He was her center, her anchor. A safe haven for her free spirit and wanderlust. Because no matter where she went, where she was, if she was with Max, she was home.
She continued to brush her hair even though there wasn’t a single knot and the strands were starting to fuzz out from static electricity. She was waiting. For Max.
Max wasn’t himself, but then she could hardly blame him. His focus was on Lauren. But what Callie didn’t like was the way Max seemed to be pushing Callie away.
She understood his worry and his concern. Knew that he was preoccupied with thoughts of his sister. But Callie was his wife and they were supposed to share everything. She knew without a doubt that if she had a family issue, he’d be by her side, involved up to his nose, and he’d do whatever he had to in order to help or support her.
She looked up when the door to the bathroom opened. Max stepped out still toweling his hair dry and wearing only a towel around his waist.
Her mouth went dry because the man was simply gorgeous. He still took her breath away. Still made her heart do this silly little stutter step every time she looked his way.
She laid the brush down and then turned on her seat to face him. He tossed aside the towel he’d been using to
dry his hair and then seemed to realize she was looking at him.
He caught her gaze and then his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
She didn’t answer right away. Nervous butterflies scuttled around her belly before her chin finally came up and she felt calm descend.
“Why are you avoiding me, Max?”
His eyes widened in surprise that wasn’t faked. “Avoid you? Where the hell would you get an idea like that?”
She rose and walked toward him. She allowed her robe to fall away until she stood naked before him. Then she gracefully slid to her knees, lifting her chin so she could once more look him in the eye.
“You’re avoiding this,” she said softly. “Us. The way we are. Who we are. Have you changed your mind, Max? Is this no longer what you want?”
She pulled at one of the bands around her wrist, the implication being that she’d remove it even though she couldn’t without one of the tiny keys they both owned, but his hand was quick to clamp around her wrist, holding the band tightly in place.
“No!” he said hoarsely. “God no, Callie, don’t take it off. Those mean more than our wedding rings. Is this what you want? Is this what you’re trying to tell me?”
She stayed on her knees, his fingers still wrapped tightly around her wrist.
“You haven’t touched me,” she said quietly. “I understand why you wouldn’t demonstrate your dominance of me in front of Lauren or others. We agreed that what we do is private and not for the world to see. But even in the privacy of our bedroom, you’ve stopped … you’ve stopped everything. What am I to think other than that this isn’t what you want?”
He went to his knees in front of her, only the second time ever that he’d put himself in an equally vulnerable position with her. He grasped her face between his hands, his eyes dark and earnest.
“You are my life, Callie. If anything I’ve said or done has made you doubt that even for a moment, I’m sorry. I would never have you feel that way.”
She shook her head because this wasn’t about her pouting and being dramatic. She didn’t want to bring him low. She just wanted her Max back. Dominant, badass Max who always had a firm hand with her.