Claiming What's Theirs

by Jenika Snow

  “I’m sorry. I’m probably driving you crazy asking you every five minutes.”

  She turned away from the window. “No, you’re not.” She smiled. “I’ve never had anyone want to make sure I was okay as much as you do.” Her body heated at his close proximity. Her nipples pebbled, and moisture gathered between her thighs. The look he gave her left nothing to the imagination on what he wanted. His emotions were written clearly on his face, and she wondered if hers were as well. Could he see that in just twenty-four hours she ached to have him touch her, to have his brother do the same? Was she that fucked-up in the head that she wanted the first men she came across? For the second time since meeting Thayer and Deacon she thought this, and for the second time she felt shame for them.

  Tearing her eyes from his she looked out the window just as Deacon’s truck drove up the driveway with her smashed in Honda trailing behind. She had wanted to go with him, to at least make herself useful, but when he had scowled at her she had dropped the subject.

  Since they told her she could stay at their place while he fixed her car, she tried to think of ways to lessen the burden of her stay.. She insisted on making meals and cleaning up. The look they had given her made it clear they didn’t have a problem with that. Their almost childlike expression of pleasure over that had her smiling. It was a small price to pay for their kindness.

  The massive truck stopped parallel to the cabin, and her heart sank at the sight of her little Honda. The driver’s side was completely smashed in, and the window broken. The windshield was cracked throughout the length of it. Thayer’s warm breath was by her ear, and when he whistled at the sight she didn’t have the strength to be irritated. The hairs on her arms stood up at the feel of his close proximity.

  “Looks like that tree came out of nowhere, huh?” His voice teased, and she closed her eyes at the way it made her feel. She really needed to get control of herself. She turned her head, not really knowing how to respond, but feeling the need to defend her poor car. His face was so close to hers, and the feel of his breath, minty and warm, brushing along her face, had the urge to close her eyes and lean closer riding her strong. Of course she didn’t do that, not because she didn’t want to, because God help her she sooo wanted to, but because she did have a little self-respect. She licked her lips and saw the way his eyes dipped down to watch the act. She used that moment to take in his masculine features. Hard planes, a straight nose, and full lips had him looking like he should grace the cover of a GQ magazine.

  “I’ve had that car for ten years. It’s seen me through a lot of crap.” Her voice was a mere whisper, but he wasn’t paying her any attention. His eyes were still trained on her lips, and when he started leaning forward she closed her eyes. Heart beating wildly, she waited for the inevitable contact of his mouth on hers. His breath got closer, so very close she could feel as well as hear the fast tempo puff along her lips.

  “You smell so good, Jessa. So good I want to devour you.”

  She sucked in air at his softly spoken words. If any other man had told her that line she might have laughed, but hearing Thayer say it, his voice so deep, his body so big, made it sound so primal. Her mouth opened to respond, but words failed her. Right when she thought he would finally kiss her the front door opened. They pulled apart so fast she hit her head on the window and gasped in pain.

  “Oh, shit.” Thayer cradled her head, his fingers massaging the back of her scalp. “I’m sorry.”

  She started laughing and pushed his hands away. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” They both turned and looked at Deacon who stood in the doorway, a strange look on his face. They both stood, and the air in the room became increasingly tight, threatening to strangle the life right out of her. She couldn’t help it, her eyes slide down the wide expanse of his chest, the muscles straining and defined against the material. The jeans he wore fitted perfectly against long legs. His thighs were so thick and strong, like sturdy tree trunks. Air sawed in and out of her at the sight of the very obvious bulge pressing against the fly of his pants. Dragging her eyes back up his body, she watched as his lids lowered halfway and his chin dipped down. The look he gave her resembled carnality. Where Thayer was all sweet and softly spoken words, making her feel warm and comforted, Deacon was the badass brother—all raw sex appeal that would tear her world apart. They were on the opposite ends of the spectrum, but put together, side-by-side, they were the ultimate man. They were the epitome of raw masulinity.

  Straightening her shoulders and getting her libido in check, she forced herself to speak normally, without a hint of the tremendous arousal swimming inside of her. “So, what’s the damage?” Deacon continued to watch her with a look that said he wanted to fuck the shit out of her. It turned her on and had her legs shaking from the force of her arousal.

  “Deacon.” Thayer’s deep, controlled voice didn’t penetrate the wall of lust that pulsated outward from his brother. “Get yourself under control.”

  It sounded like Thayer spoke through his teeth, but that pulsating sensation coming from Deacon had already reached her. It sucked her in, drawing her deeper into the animalistic vibe these men were throwing off. It came at her from both angles, making her pussy so wet her panties were soaked. Her nipples pressed against her shirt, straining, throbbing to feel their mouths latched on, suckling deep. A gasp left her when she inhaled, feeling the tight buds move against the material and causing a shot of electricity to go straight to her clit. This wasn’t normal, wasn’t rational. She acted like a hormonal teenager. She was drunk on lust, and would no doubt have the hangover from hell when it was all said and done.

  She felt Thayer grab her arm and pull her back. She hadn’t realized she had taken a step toward Deacon. He didn’t move from his spot, just watched her like some predator, stalking his prey and waiting for the perfect time to attack. Foggy lust filled her head, and she turned and looked at Thayer. He had taken his glasses off, and the blue and silver of his eyes seemed to swirl together, hypnotizing her until she felt like they pulled her in two different directions.

  “Jessa.” Thayer said her name in a way almost pained, but she couldn’t pull herself out of his mesmerizing stare.

  There was an intoxicating scent filling the room, spicy, masculine, and intoxicating. She shook her head and pushed past them, running to her room and shutting the door behind her. A sob tore through her chest. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? Whatiswrongwithyou!? She screamed inside her head and felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She was so screwed up. Humiliation crashed into her like a semi at the fact she had just run out of there, pushing her way past them and running to her room like a child. God, what they must think. She had practically jumped them right then and there. How in the hell was she supposed to face them after the little show she just put on?

  Chapter Five

  Thayer stalked toward Deacon and pressed his index finger in his chest. “Can you not control yourself?” The words left him on a low growl. He didn’t want to yell, but his voice steadily rose. He had seen the animal behind the blue depths of Deacon’s eyes. It would have been only minutes until Deacon had let his beast free. Deacon stared at Jessa’s door. The tension rolling off of Deacon was so strong it would have thrown Thayer back like a ragdoll.

  For several long moments Deacon did nothing but stand there and stare down the hallway. After what seemed like years he finally tore his eyes away and stalked toward the front door. Through the living room window Thayer watched as Deacon’s clothes ripped from his body, and he shifted into a massive white, black, and grey Snow Leopard. His tail, thick and the length of his entire body, whipped back and forth in his agitation. He turned his pale blue eyes toward Thayer for a split second before he took off into the thick forest.

  Thayer blew out a breath at how close the situation had turned from heated to deadly. He found himself walking toward Jessa’s room, knowing it was a bad idea but not able to help himself. He placed both hands on the frame and hung his head. Her scent pe
rmeated through the wood, and he felt his shaft thicken. Her arousal, a cloying aroma that had his arms and legs tightening, had his leopard purring in desire. He forced himself to knock instead of what he really wanted to do—tear the door down and claim her. There wasn’t any sound from the other side, but he could hear her heart beating wildly and could smell her lust thicken the air.

  “Jessa.” Her name was but a whisper from his lips, and moments later the door swung open. She stood before him, her chest rising and falling with the force of her breathing, her breasts pressing against her shirt. The sight tantalized him and he had to curl his fingers around the frame of the door to stop himself from reaching out and cupping the luscious looking mounds. He heard her swallow and watched the slender column of her throat work. What in the hell are you doing, Thayer?

  He was sick of thinking, sick of trying to be the rational one when all he wanted to do was let himself be free and feel. In just two small steps he found himself in front of her. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and heard the fierce growl that left his lips.

  “Thayer?” Her voice was low and aroused. Snapping his eyes open he saw how her pupils dilated and her eyes widened. Yeah, she could see what he wanted, could most likely feel it in the air.

  He slanted his mouth on hers and moved his hands behind the heavy fall of her hair to cup her nape. Pulling her toward him he used his hand on her neck to tilt her head and deepen the kiss. He opened his mouth and let his tongue slide over her bottom lip. Her taste exploded on his taste buds, and he felt his chest vibrate with the force of his groan. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as she opened her mouth for him. Sliding his tongue into the warm, wet, and flavorful cavern of her mouth, he started walking her backward toward the bed. Their tongues slid together erotically. His cock hardened and became insistent, and he knew she had to feel it digging into her belly. When he started using his upper body to lead her back on the bed, her little hands were pushing at his chest. Breaking the kiss, he panted and stared down at her. Desire clouded her face, and he couldn’t understand why she would stop him. He wanted this; they both did.

  “I need you, Jessa.” He dipped his head and ran his lips across hers. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I’m done trying to fight it. I want you, and if I’m not mistaken you want me, too.” This was insane, but it felt so good to have her in his arms and to finally taste her. It was fast and hectic, but everything felt like it fell right into place. Even if she said she didn’t want him he knew it would be a lie. Her arousal smelt like a blooming flower opening to the sun. It was bright and had every one of his senses standing alert. She relaxed against him and opened her mouth for his tongue. He rested one hand on her lower back while the other gripped her waist, The soft, mewling noises coming from her had him grinding his erection into her. A gasp fell from her mouth, and he swallowed it. He moved his tongue in her mouth, tasting every hollow, every corner, and drawing her essence into him until it saturated his soul. Breaking the kiss, he dipped his head into the hollow of her throat. Inhaling deeply, he groaned at her scent and drew it deeper into his lungs.

  Running his tongue up her throat, he kissed her pulse point and smiled when he felt her shiver. He wanted his scent on her, in her, and covering her so that any male that came close to her would know she belonged to him—his mate.. Keeping his lips on the side of her neck, he dragged his hand down to her hip and gripped the material of her shirt, slowly dragging it up. Her hips lifted and moved against his, but as soon as his fingers touched the bare flesh of her belly her body went rigid and she backpedaled away from him. Eyes wide with something akin to fear, she huffed in air.

  “Jessa, what’s wrong? Did I scare you, sweetheart?” Sitting up, he had to shift to adjust the throb of his cock in his pants. The metallic scent of her fear had his pulse increasing. “Jessa, please, what’s wrong?” He reached a hand out to her, but she started shaking her head and then jumped off the bed. He noticed her tugging at the edge of her shirt. Rage grew inside of him, so bright it clouded his vision, and had his whole body strung tight. Someone had hurt her, and she was scared to death because of it.

  “Jessa, sweetheart, talk to me.” Shaking her head wildly, her mouth moved, but nothing came out. Thayer sounded desperate.

  “No, no, no, no. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She rushed out of the room, and he went after her.

  “Did I hurt you?” His chest constricted as he saw her hair billowing out behind her and heard the sound of her feet padding across the floor.

  “No, it’s me not you. It’s always me.” Her voice sounded tight, and he smelled the clean scent of her tears that came from her. She headed toward the front door. It was obvious her thoughts weren’t clear. She wore a pair of jeans and a thin, long-sleeved shirt. She would freeze to death.

  Just as she reached the door Deacon came through it. She skidded to a stop. His somewhat relaxed face turned to stone. He flicked his eyes in Thayer’s direction, and a deep, animalistic growl came from him.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  Thayer saw her body flinch and took a step toward her, but Deacon had her wrapped in his arms. Tiny hands balled into fists rested against Deacon’s chest. His brother’s lethal stare was on him.

  “Thayer, you better tell me what the fuck is going on. I can smell you all over her, and she’s crying.”

  Spearing his hands in his hair, Thayer started pacing back and forth. He should have gone with his gut instincts when they screamed at him that this was a bad idea. He stopped pacing and stared at her small, huddled form. Whoever had hurt her was going to pay.

  ****

  “N-No, i-it wasn’t h-his fault.” Dammit, she couldn’t stop stuttering. She pressed her face in Deacon’s shirt, her tears soaking the fabric. It had felt so good having Thayer touch and kiss her. Everything had felt incredible, that is until she had felt his fingers slide against her belly. Her past had reared its ugly head, and she knew she couldn’t do this. If he saw what her body looked like, how the ugly purple and black bruises covered her flesh. No doubt he would have been appalled and disgusted. She didn’t want to see that look on his face, and so she had done what she did best. She ran away.

  She felt like a fool, but for the life of her she couldn’t pull away from Deacon’s body. His hands ran up and down her back, soothing her and making her tears lessen. At first she had tried to push away, but Deacon was a strong man and refused to let her go. Right now she didn’t want him to anyway. She felt Thayer move behind her and relaxed further. What was it about these men that had her on edge, but also had her feeling more comfortable then she had felt around anyone else?

  “What happened? Who hurt you?” Deacon said at the crown of her hair. Her head rested against his heart, and the sound of it beating could have lulled her to sleep … could have if she wasn’t about to jump out of her skin. Thayer’s hand landed on the small of her back, and she felt the weight and heat of it seep into her. “Tell us, Jessa.” The rumble of Deacon’s voice let her know he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Admitting her private life to these two men didn’t sound like a good time, but she had already acted like a fool in front of Thayer and knew they deserved to know why she acted like a freak.

  Pushing away from them, she moved over to the couch and sat down. They followed right behind her, situating themselves on the leather chairs in front of the couch. Their gazes were penetrating, and she felt like a specimen under a microscope.

  “Tell us, Jessa.” Deacon said as he placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Thayer was in much of the same position. His tone was hard, yet coaxing.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just tell us. You’re safe.”

  It didn’t make sense that she believed them. It wasn’t like she knew them, but deep down inside she knew that these two men could be trusted above all else. Everything seemed crazy and weird, but it was her reality. Everything seemed to be running in fast forward. Although it had just been twenty-four hours ago that
she had run from Paul, it felt like a lifetime ago.

  She took a deep breath and spilled the dirtiest and most shameful part of her life to them. “I started dating him when I turned seventeen. He was my first and only boyfriend, my high school sweetheart. Everything was fine, perfect even. He said all the right things, and was always there for me, especially when both of my parents died the summer I graduated.” She took a deep breath as painful memories washed through her. “Paul helped me get through it, helped me get my life sorted out so I could live again. My parents were all I had, and so after they died Paul became my only family.”

  “Jesus, Jessa. I’m so sorry.” She smiled at Thayer but refused to cry. Deacon held a stoic expression, but she could feel his comfort and understanding in his unspoken words. Here we go. “The abuse started a year after that. First it started as insults and little jabs at my weight. It then escalated to the pushing and hitting.” The room grew uncomfortably silent, but she pushed forward. “I was a fool for staying with him, but I didn’t have anyone else and feared being alone. He apologized every time, telling me it would never happen again, but of course it did. I know not all men were like that, but I’m a ruined girl, and who wants something that’s broken?” She couldn’t look at them as she delved into the darkest part of her soul and put it out in the open. Once again she asked herself why she was telling them any of this. All she wanted to do was put the past behind her, yet she spilled her life just because they had asked, no, told her to tell them. Fortunately, they didn’t say anything, just let her get it out. In all honesty telling someone what had happened had a sense of relief washing through her.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t stay another day, but then he would apologize, bring me flowers and chocolates, and grovel like his life depended on it. I was so dependent on him that I believed every fucking lie he spewed.” The tears she had tried desperately to hold in were threatening to break through. “He brought home random women like I meant nothing, like I meant nothing. I told him I planned on leaving, more than once, but he wouldn’t let me go. He knew I had no one, and he liked knowing I was dependent on him. For five years I let him do this to me. I let myself be his doormat. I decided to finally leave, but that night he had come home drunk and thought it would be a good time to use me as his personal punching bag.” Deacon moved beside her and she curled into his body. She turned her head and looked at Thayer. She hated seeing the sympathy on his face.