Three Men and a Woman: Liberty (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)

by Rachel Billings

  She was entirely aware that Tag and Keeg watched in blatant, male satisfaction. That watching their woman take it in the ass was supremely gratifying to them. That watching their brother do it, broody, reluctant Orion, filled them with pleasure.

  Though Ry had been nearly passive to it, and that worried her a bit. He’d just lain there as she worked herself onto him, nothing but the hard steel of his cock indicating any interest.

  Until he’d plucked her nipples, a hard, intention-filled signal of his investment.

  She moaned, then, and arched. Somehow, he knew already how to stir up the hot-wire connection between her tits and her clit, how to suss out that electrical charge that turned her on so much.

  The reflexive arching of her body did something for him, too. She felt the shudder of his breath under her back and felt it, too, when he flexed. When he made a shivery movement that resulted in a thrust of his cock into her ass.

  He groaned in pleasure.

  “That’s it, Ry,” Tag encouraged. “Fuck her. Fuck her while we watch.”

  “Liberty,” Ry said, like he wanted her permission, her consent. But he was doing it anyway, fucking into her and working her nipples. He groaned again before she could answer. “This feels so good. Your ass is so tight. So hot. So fucking good.”

  It was that good. She made eye contact with Tag and then Keeg, and it was so blessedly, freakishly hot. Seeing them watch. Having Ry in her ass, buggering her. Her legs splayed out so the others could see it, her body unashamedly wallowing in the crude, abasing act of an ass fuck. Her breath moaning out, hitching when Ry pinched especially hard at her nipples or when he thrust into her with increased force.

  “Oh, God.”

  At the same moment, two hands reached for her. From the right, Keeg grasped her clit, tugging and massaging. From the other side, Tag pushed his fingers into her cunt.

  “Oh.”

  Liberty flailed. Her feet grappled for purchase against the mattress, lifting her pelvis up. Like she wanted Keegan’s tugs to go harder, like she wanted Tag to give her more. Like she wanted Ry to have space to fuck her hard and deep.

  They all did what she wanted, knowing what she needed even if she wasn’t fully aware of it. Keeg worked her clit wildly. Tag plowed into her until she was stretched around nearly the whole of his fist.

  Ry fucked her, harder than he should have the strength for, thrusting in deep, reaming.

  And squeezed her nipples, tugging, twisting.

  Her breaths turned to a constant moan, and then to a screech. Her body flexed spasmodically, making the most of the stimulation from every one of them. Her arms flailed until she found some grounding hold—Keeg’s shoulder, Tag’s hard thigh.

  Even so, she flew. The three of them drove her to an explosive orgasm, had her crying out, her body jerking and shuddering, entirely overwhelmed. Her mind splintered.

  She was barely aware of what came next, barely conscious for it.

  Tag came over her, his jeans lowered enough so he could shove his cock into her pussy, impossibly finding room for it even as Ry’s cock was still hard and deep in her ass.

  Keeg was on his knees, using a hand under her arm to tug her over to Ry’s right shoulder. So she was close to Keeg. So he could lean over her and press his cock into her mouth.

  Like it was business, then. Like they were on the ranch, working together, coordinated, and of one mind as they always were. Like that, they fucked her. In her cunt. In her ass. In her mouth and down her throat.

  Like they were connected, their breathing rose together. Their passion built in symphony. Their thrusts came faster, deeper, harder. Their moans started low and easy, then grew harsher, rougher.

  Until they were grasping her, six hands taking hold wherever they could, fingers bruising in their grip. Cocks thrusting, moans rising.

  Until they all came together, shuddering and filling her with their cum. Huffing, grunting in wild pleasure as they blasted into her, hotly. Into each cavity her body possessed.

  As one, they held through those long, hard spasms, and then collapsed. Onto her, over her, under her.

  She was filled.

  And she was surrounded.

  * * * *

  Tag thought they’d all dozed a little. But he was on top, more or less, of that magnificent pile of bodies. So when he stirred, he was able to get up without disrupting things too much. From the side of the bed, he looked at the spectacle—his brothers and his woman, all fucked out just like he was himself.

  Belatedly, he toed out of his boots and dropped his jeans, then wandered the house a little. In the kitchen, he set some chicken that hadn’t quite gotten cooked into the fridge—maybe there’d be chicken parm for breakfast.

  They could do worse.

  Then he went to Lib’s spare bedroom and pilfered some blankets. He laid them out on the chaise on her back porch before he went to fetch the woman.

  His brothers grumbled in protest, but they rolled over and seemed content to go back to sleep. Since they were both still recovering from their injuries, he felt they deserved the bed.

  From his arms, Lib looked up and smiled. She kept her gaze on him as he carried her out back and settled into the blankets with her. It would be June soon, warm enough to sleep outside if they cuddled close. Which they would.

  He leaned in and kissed her, then took hold of her hand with his ring on it. He lifted it up and kissed her knuckle. “Can we let this stand for what I meant it to?”

  She looked at him, those blue eyes soft. “Will you say exactly what that is?”

  She knew, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge her wanting to hear it. “I want you to marry me. I want you to marry all of us. I want to have you, and I want to share you with my brothers.”

  “Do you think they want that, too?”

  “I know Keeg does. You probably have a better idea about Ry than I do, but I kind of got the idea he was in, this last hour or so.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she said. “I mean, I get that he enjoyed that…”

  “Spectacular triple fuck we gave you?”

  She smiled wryly. “Yes, that. But I don’t think he meant to. I think he was surprised by it. I don’t think he even meant to make love to me on his own tonight.”

  “But he couldn’t resist you. I told you, he wouldn’t.”

  Lib slipped a hand up to his cheek. “Do you really think this could work?”

  “I do,” he said. He thought it was the only thing that would. “I think if we want it, we can make it work. And I want it, Lib.”

  She was still looking at him as she drew a deep breath. “It seems so complicated. What…what about children?”

  He was still holding her hand, and he kissed it again. “What about them? I want them—I already told you that. How about you?”

  “I want them,” she said. “But—whose? Yours? Keeg’s or Ry’s?”

  Tag lifted a shoulder. “Will it matter? I don’t think it does to me. We can work it out however makes sense. I can say right now, you give us a baby, I’m going to feel like a dad, no matter who it belongs to biologically. I suspect my brothers will feel the same. We’ve all got nothing but Harper genes. We share a wife, we share children.”

  She tucked her head against his shoulder. “Harper men don’t really strike me as the sort to want to share their woman.”

  He understood her point. She wasn’t wrong about it, either. He’d never consider an open relationship. “I get that. It’s only this special circumstance. We’d never share you with anyone else.”

  “A closed relationship among the four of us.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He felt her sigh. “I love all of you.”

  “Even Orion?”

  She only hesitated a second. “Yes.”

  He put a knuckle under her chin to raise her face to his. “You crazy enough to try this, girl?”

  “I think there’s a better question to ask.”

  He studied those pretty eyes. “Do you love me
enough to try?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I guess I do.”

  “You’ll come to the ranch after school is out next week?”

  “Yes. I will.”

  * * * *

  They ate chicken parmesan for Saturday breakfast, and Liberty thought they could have done a whole lot worse. Ry was up and cooking while she and Tag still slept on the chaise. Tag worked his way out from under her and left her to doze a little more.

  When she finally came out of her room, dressed for the day, she saw that she’d been the last to shower. All three men were freshly shaved and looking fine. Tag kissed her good morning, and so did Keegan. Orion was busy at the stove and avoided the issue—even pretending, Liberty thought, not to watch.

  It was a crowd around her little back porch table—three big men and her. She sat with Keeg and Tag at either side, and Orion across from her. The arrangement was spontaneous, unspoken, but she thought there was a little intent to protect her on Keeg’s and Tag’s part.

  As they finished the meal, Tag put his hand on hers. “Liberty has agreed to marry…us. To marry me, because that’s what we can do, legally, but to form what is essentially a marriage with all of us.”

  Orion pushed back and stood, banging his chair into the screen behind him. “I’m not in.”

  His words shouldn’t have hurt, Liberty thought, but they did. She reminded herself that, twenty-four hours earlier, she hadn’t even been sure she liked the man.

  Tag kept his gaze steadily on his brother. “You want her.”

  “Yeah, well, I want a 1958 Harley-Davidson Duo-Glide in black and white, too. But I don’t want it so we can all buddy up on it.”

  “You get a bike like that,” Keeg said, “you can bet Tag and I are taking it for a ride, too.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Tag put in. “How many of those bikes are there in the world? You think we’re all three going to find one? You think we’re all three going to find a woman like Liberty? It sure hasn’t happened yet.”

  Ry was gazing out over the trees behind her house, but he turned to look at her. “You mind they’re comparing you to a motorcycle?”

  His lips were curved in a wry smile, and Liberty thought he cared about her more than he was willing to admit. “I don’t know. Is it a…pretty one?”

  Keeg snorted and looked directly at her, a long, leisurely perusal along her body. “It tops everyone’s list of sexiest bikes ever built.”

  “Ah,” Liberty said, lifting a shoulder. “Well, then.”

  Ry pressed his hands onto the table and leaned toward her. From either side, Tag and Keeg put their hands over hers.

  “Can this really be what you want, Libby? Do you really want to live so far beyond…beyond the norm? Out on the crazy edge?”

  She looked at him and knew the truth. “You’re asking that because you care about me. Because you love me.”

  His eyes didn’t leave hers. “It’s still a good question. The right question, if we care about you.”

  Liberty felt the warmth in the hands that held hers. Hands she didn’t want to let go of. Belonging to men she loved. “What are my choices?” she asked Ry. “Be with only one of you? Tag? Keegan? Or you?”

  “Yes,” he said, leaning in closer. “Yes. Me.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that, and neither could you. Because I love your brothers, and so do you.”

  “You can’t love us all.”

  Leaning forward herself, Liberty met his hot gaze. “I do. So I guess that means I can.”

  He shook his head and turned away, so she spoke to his back. “You belong to the ranch,” she said. “On the ranch. You all do, and you know it. I can’t live there and have only one of you. That would never work. So I can move to the ranch and have all of you. Or I can stay here and have none. Which of those choices seems crazier? The one that breaks my heart?”

  Ry turned around again. “Lib.”

  She stood and knew that Tag and Keegan stood with her. “You have to decide,” she said. “No one else can decide for you. You can make this work or not.”

  “Not.”

  Liberty pulled her hands from the men at her side and scooted around the table. She walked across the porch to her bedroom doors and closed them behind her. Then she closed the door to the hallway, too.

  She was alone. She wondered how much she would have to get used to that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Four times now, Liberty had shared this moment with her teaching buddies—three o’clock on the Thursday that was the last day of school for the summer. Every year, they hit a few of their old favorite happy hours and tried out a couple new ones. They drove their cars downtown and parked for the night, then walked from one bar to the other. At two a.m., there’d be a couple limos outside the Ten Qoo sky bar to get them all safely home.

  Nearly, she’d begged off this year because she didn’t have the heart for it.

  She’d been exquisitely, painfully, exactly right when she felt her aloneness the moment she’d closed herself in her room the previous Saturday. She had been entirely alone for that day and every one since.

  The stupid Harper brothers had been quiet, but not that quiet, as they’d politely cleaned up the kitchen and then walked out of her house. She didn’t consider that last part of it polite. Waiting in her room, with nothing to do but pretend she was working on her score in her head, she stayed until it was way past clear that she was alone. And would be.

  The silence from them for the rest of the week had verified that fact.

  She hadn’t cried since Sunday night. Well, not very much, anyway.

  Good thing the last week of school didn’t require much creative energy on her part. Her students were looking forward to the break too much to notice that she wasn’t at her best.

  Wishing them a good summer, hugging good-bye to the graduates, she’d decided on this day to put the Harpers from her mind for good. She’d loved these years of teaching, and she’d love next year, too. And the next.

  She would.

  Still, she felt her aloneness again as she walked out to the parking lot. Like others, she’d used the faculty women’s bathroom to change into party clothes. Even so, she considered once more whether she’d rather just go home.

  Until she realized she wouldn’t go anywhere. At least, not until the big, black pickup that blocked her car moved first.

  Big, black, shiny pickup, that sparkled as though it had just come out of the carwash.

  Which made it almost a match for the suited up, long, cool drink of water who stood next to it.

  Tag had dressed up, too. Like his brother, he looked mighty fine in a suit, even if he hadn’t gone so far as to replace his boots with fancy wingtips. At least they were dress boots with no dirt on them.

  Liberty wore the same gold sheath she’d worn the night she’d met Tag. It appeared he noticed.

  “I’d forgotten how much I like that dress,” he said when she stopped beside her car, his brown eyes warm if maybe a little uneasy. Like he wasn’t sure of his reception. Which was the damn truth of it.

  “I think you’ve forgotten how much you like me.”

  He took a slow breath, and she could hear the curse in his head—shit.

  “I love that dress.”

  Well, he wasn’t going to see her dancing in it tonight.

  She stood at the door to her car, several feet from him, though the distance didn’t keep her from feeling that familiar heat of his. She dug her keys out of her little clutch and gestured with them to his truck. “Do you mind? I have a…date.” It wasn’t exactly an untruth.

  “The hell you do.”

  Lifting a brow, gaze on his, she waggled an ankle so her heel rested on that four-inch spike—the same hot red shoes she’d worn that night at Beta. He appeared to notice that, too.

  Then he crossed his arms over his chest, squared his weight over his spread feet, and looked her in the eye. “You’re coming with me, Lib.”

  “No,” she
said. “I was coming with you last Saturday. Now, I’m not.”

  He said it out loud this time—“Shit.” He moved his hands to his hips. He’d left his coat open and pushed the sides back with his thumbs and…looked pretty good. “Lib,” he tried again. “You remember we almost lost Ry.”

  “I do remember. I was there.” Close enough, anyway.

  “On Saturday, he needed us. Keeg and me. I thought he needed us more than you did in that moment.” He took another long breath. “Maybe I got it wrong.”

  No. Probably he hadn’t been wrong about that. But, still—“Some reason you couldn’t lift a phone and call me for five days?”

  One hand scrubbed the back of his neck now. “I…thought you’d understand. I got that you didn’t, though.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Her ring. The one she’d tossed on her dresser Saturday afternoon. “I got that today.”

  “Yeah.” She saw. “I guess…you’ve been in my house.”

  “Ry still has the key you gave him. He’s there, now. Keegan, too.”

  “Huh.”

  “Lib,” he said. He took another one of those breaths and then, with his eyes only on her, apparently unheeding of the activity around them, the other teachers and staff who were moving to their vehicles, the ones whose attention was getting pretty avid, he went down on one knee. He held the ring out to her. “Liberty Clark,” he said. “Will you please walk over here and put this ring back where it belongs?”

  * * * *

  Tag wasn’t sure he had her.

  He had been sure—he’d thought he was, anyway—when Liberty had walked off her porch on that Saturday past and Orion had, well, collapsed was too strong a word, but not very much too strong, into his chair out there at her table.

  He thought he understood where his brother was at. Ry had just been Liberty-stunned. Very much like had happened to Tag a handful of months earlier.

  And had happened to Keeg, too.

  God knew, it was a thing that took some getting used to. Could take the feet right out from under a man.

  But Ry had been determined that it would not happen. When the mighty fell…