Regan [The Sisters O'Ryan 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenna Stewart

  “Anywhere else in the world, I’d agree. But this isn’t anywhere else in the world. Hell, it’s not even the world. It’s heaven, our own little paradise. We’re best friends who love the same woman. Another time or place and one of us would lose. But not us, not here. It so happens we’ve managed to find the one woman on the whole planet who not only loves both of us, but wants to be with us both.”

  His cock rose at a fevered pace, as hard and long as it had been that afternoon with his fingers tight inside Regan’s cunt. Her sensual aroma came back to him, the feel of her cream on his palm, the dazed look in her eyes as she licked her essence from his fingers. He hated saying it, but he had to. “It’s not right.”

  Hay’s voice held a ring of anger. “Are you going to pass up this chance because of some Bible school lesson you had at your mama’s knee? The world isn’t right, you stubborn bastard! How long did we fight on opposite sides of a conflict—you and me, when no two men in the world see more eye to eye on life than we do? Did that make sense?” He paced and raked his hair again. “Was that war right? Those years turned the world upside down. We aren’t in the same place now that we were then, and we never will be again. I thought you of all people would understand how fragile life is.” He swung away, but not before Seth took note of the pain in his eyes. Hay’s shoulders tensed, his head hung, and his hands curled into fists at his side.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Seth said the words softly. “Maybe we should grab all of life we can.”

  The strain seemed to drain from Hay’s shoulders. He lifted his head and slowly turned. “All these years, I’ve been searching for a way to make my fortune, something I could point to with pride and claim as mine. I wanted success. I needed it. I don’t know why this feels so right to me. It’s nothing like I envisioned when I pictured my future. I wouldn’t ask you to try if I didn’t believe we would all three be happy. But I want you to be sure.”

  “How can we handle this, Hay? Up till now, we’ve shared evenly. The idea of sharing Regan stirs up all kinds of emotions. Is it even possible for two men to be with the same woman and one of us not be jealous? How do we keep from being hurt?”

  “We let Regan guide us. We love each other, so we won’t let pettiness intrude. If one of us begins to feel uncomfortable, we must talk it through.”

  Turmoil consumed Seth, and foreboding tangled with intoxication. He no longer dreaded seeing Regan with Hay because he would be part of the equation. They would find a way to make each other happy. Even fumbling through this unexpected living arrangement would have rewards as well as a few pitfalls. Still, if he agreed, he would have to expose himself—all of himself—to Regan. What if his fears came true? What if he totally lost himself in her but saw revulsion in her eyes each time they made love? Was the chance to have a home, make a home, with two people he loved more than anyone in the world be worth the risk?

  He smiled. “I can see this has you tied up in knots. You haven’t quoted the Bard a single time.”

  Hay matched Seth’s smile with a grin. “Take a chance, Seth. ‘All’s well that ends well.’”

  The decision coalesced in his mind. Had there been any reason to hesitate? “Let’s go and talk to Regan.”

  * * * *

  Regan sat before the fire, letting the warmth of the flames infuse the chill that seeped into her when she watched Seth march away. She rose with the sound of boots on the wooden porch floor. “Come in,” she responded to a knock. Seth entered, followed by Hay.

  “We’d like to speak with you, Regan,” Seth said.

  Held by the edge, his floppy-brimmed hat extended to below his knee. In homespun clothing, neat and clean but plain, he looked every inch the farmer, whereas behind him, Hay, with his tailored jacket and cravat, shined boots and new beaver fur Stetson hat, appeared aristocratic. She tried to discern their decision by reading their expressions, but Seth’s notoriously guarded face gave away nothing. For a change, neither did Hay’s.

  She sat, gripping the chair arms in an effort to keep her hands from trembling. “Please come in. The hearth is comfortable if you’d care to sit near the fire.”

  “Thank you.” Seth moved forward to take one end of the bench they used at the dinner table. Hay sat in the middle.

  Seth seemed to be the spokesman, and that worried Regan. His adamant declaration that she couldn’t love both of them left little room for discussion. She took heart, however, when Hay leaned back, elbows on the table, and stretched out his legs, ankles crossed. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.

  Seth cleared his throat. “I apologize for runnin’ out in a huff,” he said. “I was shocked, I suppose.”

  “Shocked with me?”

  “Well, yes, surprised that you would say you loved us both. But truly shocked that I kinda like the idea of it, you with the two of us.”

  She couldn’t contain her smile. “You do?”

  He dropped his gaze and focused on the flickering flames. “I’ve told Hay that I don’t think it’s right, that trouble will come of it.”

  When he faced her, his eyes glittered like shards of lapis lazuli she’d seen in the British Museum. No one had eyes that mesmerized like Seth’s.

  “He explained that our arrangement is different than most. I agree, so we’ve come here to iron out the terms and conditions.”

  Regan winced at Seth’s business tone in something she saw as essentially emotional.

  “I say ‘arrangement’ because no city, no town or state will ever recognize what we’re talkin’ about as a marriage. Can you live with that, Regan?”

  “I–I don’t think I considered that,” she said. “But yes, I believe I can.”

  “Have you considered what the town will think if they should discover that you are havin’ marital relations with two men? Do you think they will welcome you into their church then?”

  Blood rushed from her head, leaving her faint. Bile rose in her throat. Did she know what she was doing? Living with Seth and Hay would violate every law, every mandate of society as she knew it. Could she really turn her back on her family’s values and the opinion of good people? If their house of cards fell around their ears, the men would be unaffected by the scandal. Men usually were, in situations related to sex. She would bear the scorn and shame, as would any children resulting from their union.

  She studied Seth’s and Hay’s faces and knew in her heart they wouldn’t desert her if things turned bad. They would protect her as best they were able. “I’ll take the chance.”

  Seth nodded as though he expected her answer. “Hay and I talked over a few things on the way up. We’d like your opinion. First, I said no state would recognize our arrangement as a marriage, but we think for your protection and any children you might bear, you should legally marry one of us. If you agree, Hay is the most likely partner for you.”

  This was something she hadn’t anticipated. She needn’t face disgrace after all. She could be a married woman and still have both men. Just as she thought, they loved her enough to protect her. Her heart swelled. She might be choosing a life outside the strictures of society, but she had selected fine men to share that life. “I hope you will understand, Hay, but I would like Seth to be my husband.”

  Seth’s eyes widened and he ducked his head, avoiding her gaze. “Thank you for that honor,” he said in a low voice.

  Hay spoke for the first time. “It’s the choice I wanted, but Seth wouldn’t hear of it. He’s a good man and will be a good husband. We’ll both do our utmost to see to your happiness.”

  “As I shall strive to make both of you happy.”

  “Now, as to children. We had decided that any children would carry Hay’s surname but use Pratt as their middle name. Now I suppose”—he shifted a glance from Regan to Hay and back—“we will reverse that. Of course we will both provide for their support. The farm will stay in your name, though I will do all I can to see that it succeeds and Hay will help with finances. Does that meet with your approval?”


  “It sounds very…civilized.” And it did, despite that their pact would be seen as anything but. If Hay contributed to the account at the bank, they had a chance.

  When she saw the banker earlier that day, he revealed that after buying supplies and pipe for the well, she had enough for one season’s planting only. Then her dowry and all inheritance she received from her mother would be gone, and she would have little choice but to return home in defeat.

  To her surprise, Hay pulled back his feet and stared at the floor, and Seth’s cheeks tinged pink. “Hay and I ain’t been saints, but we’re strong and healthy. No French disease, if you catch my meaning.”

  “We can assure you of that, though we will go into town and see the doctor if you wish.” Hay spoke to the oak planks.

  “Neither of us drinks much, and in spite of Hay’s always lookin’ like he’s ready to go to a fancy dress ball, we’re both hard workers and not afraid of gettin’ dirty. If anyone can get your farm goin’, it will be us. That is, if you’ll still have us.”

  “Oh, Seth, I promise, I do plan to have you.”

  Hay burst into laughter. Seth’s cheeks turned a darker shade, but when he looked up, his face held a smile. Regan felt as though she had inherited the sun.

  “Now it’s my turn. You’ve chosen to live with a rather willful woman, I’m afraid.”

  The men grinned at each other. “I think we already knew that,” Hay intoned.

  “I’m twenty-five, and I’ve only been with one man. I fear I am not a very experienced woman in the ways of the bedroom.” She frowned. “Also, if you think you’re marrying a wealthy woman, I’m sorry to disappoint you. What’s in the bank in Cold Springs is all I have, and I can’t turn to my family for anything further. There is barely enough for one planting. I don’t want you to go into this thinking I’m something I’m not.”

  “I’m not disappointed in who you are,” Seth replied. “Neither of us is.”

  “As far as not being worldly, how delightful,” Hay said, grinning impishly. “You have nothing to worry about. We will happily teach you all you care to know.”

  Regan smiled, no need of the fire for warmth now. “Seth started this afternoon.” She looked at him and took a deep breath. “My conditions have not changed. I require your trust as well as your love.”

  Seth slumped on the bench, looking decidedly unhappy. Hay stood. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No,” Seth murmured. “We’re in this together from now on.” He slipped the suspenders off his shoulders and started unbuttoning his shirt.

  Regan rose, only to drop to her knees between his legs. His manhood pressed against his trousers. She licked her lips, and it jumped, a hard, very long rod mere inches from her face. But that exploration didn’t take precedence now.

  She pushed away his hand and loosened the buttons herself. The release of each revealed a firm chest lightly covered in brown hair. His nipples stood out as dusky nubs. She resisted the urge to flick them with her tongue.

  Seth shook the shirtsleeve off his right arm. Cords of muscles limned his shoulder and down his arm. She trailed her hand along their path, excitement building with the feel of his skin beneath her fingers.

  Not a sound, not a movement broke her concentration. “And now the rest,” she said. He nodded and closed his eyes. Regan unpinned the loose sleeve on his left side and tugged at the shirt until it slid off his shoulder and began its descent to the floor.

  A log crashed to the firebox floor, sending a flare of sparks up the chimney. Seth jumped. Startled herself, Regan looked over her shoulder to where Hay stood, still as a statue. He watched her, worry in his eyes. She wished his expression imparted more reassurance. Could Seth’s arm be so bad that even Hay thought she might not be able to handle it?

  Holding her breath, she turned her head to discover Seth’s secret.

  Chapter Seven

  Something as commonplace as a log giving itself up to flames wouldn’t normally cause Seth to jump half out of his skin, but he had already been taut as a fiddle string waiting for Regan’s reaction to his arm. Sue White, the girl to whom he’d pledged his love before marching off to join the Confederate Army, shrank away and sobbed openly when he gathered the nerve to show her his injury. Though that had been years ago, comments from cowpokes and horrified stares from the few people who had reason to see the stump since then made him think its appearance had not improved.

  Seconds later, the room still held nothing but quiet. His shirt off, cool air struck his arm. Was Regan so much a lady she managed to hide her sounds of disgust? He couldn’t bear to look.

  Then he felt a gentle touch. Her fingers skimmed the folds of skin that he knew for a fact showed an angry red after the exertions of the day. Coolness drifted over the scars, following the tender warmth of her fingertips. Taking in a shaky breath, he sighed.

  Something strange happened next, something unexpected. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes and rolled down his face. Her lips touched that place that brought him the greatest humiliation and shame. She kissed his wound, the physical reminder of a minié ball that tore through his left forearm and a tired field surgeon’s work. He trembled with unchecked emotion. Excepting him, no one touched his wound, no one. Until now.

  Risking exposure of everything in his heart, he looked at her. She held his elbow close, caressing the skin, the puckered scars, and discolored ridges of flesh with the tenderness one might use with a delicate rose petal. Tears escaped her closed eyelids. He felt them when she laid his damaged arm against her cheek, streaming over the flesh like tiny brooks over rocks and through crevices.

  Seth glanced over her head at Hay. Eyes glimmering with moisture, he gave Seth a tight smile before turning away and slipping through the door.

  “What kind of woman are you that you can hold me thus after seeing what I am?” The words threatened to hang in his throat, but he had to know the answer. Could she act so well, covering an internal repulsion?

  “One who loves you. All of you.” She opened her eyes, and he saw nothing there but pure emotion.

  Using his thumb he swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’ve tried hard in my life never to make a woman cry because of me, but I don’t know of one who has ever cried for me.”

  “I love you. Do you forgive me for my actions earlier today?”

  “You mean the way you responded to me? I liked it. There’s no need to apologize.”

  “No. I mean when I threw my tantrum. I used French when I knew you wouldn’t understand. I was hurt and embarrassed. I’m so sorry for throwing Hay in your face, for flaunting my education. I hope I didn’t—”

  He silenced her with his finger. “Shh. Pay it no mind. I know who you are, and I know who I am. Right now, I’m the luckiest man on Earth. Will you lie with me, Regan?”

  “Yes.” She rose. Back to the fireplace, she began removing her clothing, taking her time.

  She issued her invitation for him to watch when she didn’t turn away. Silently, her dress fell to the floor, and she stood in a chemise. Her breasts swelled above the slip, dark pink tips showing through the thin material. He ached to suck them, to knead them and feel her flesh fill his palm.

  Lifting the hem, she revealed slippers instead of shoes. She toed them off then rolled her stockings down to her ankles and off her feet. Seth didn’t interrupt with talk or action, but sat and took it all in.

  He couldn’t believe her reaction to his arm. Or that she would offer herself to him this way. A woman as fine as Regan should be in a mansion somewhere with servants and a rich husband. She should be with a man like Hay, yet she chose him to be her lawful husband. All this while he’d been jealous of Hay, of his and Regan’s easy camaraderie, and for no reason. Even though she loved Hay—and who could blame her, as there was no better friend—she truly loved him, Seth, too.

  The waning fire backlit her body when she pulled the slip over her head. In nothing more than a pair of l
ace-accented bloomers, Regan Stone could be surpassed by no other woman. He sucked in a breath at her sheer beauty, humbled that she would stand before him like this.

  “You’re too beautiful for words.” If he were Hay, he would recite sonnets, quote some great writer. But he didn’t have that capability. He only wished she would know what was in his heart.

  “I want to be for you and Hay. I want to be everything you ever wished for.” She reached up, and suddenly her hair tumbled down over her shoulders and to her waist, rich and deep, shining red in the firelight.

  “Come here,” he said. She moved to stand between his open legs. His cock throbbed with the need to be inside her. Seth silently repeated the locations of waterholes on the Texas-to-Abilene run in order to hold back taking her fast and hard, but as soon as he laid his hand on her the dam threatened to break.

  The undergarment was similar to the one he ripped off her that afternoon, and shorter than ladies’ garments he had seen before. He untied the lace in front and tried pulling it down using just his right hand. She stopped him.

  “Use both,” she said gently. “I want you to touch me with every part of your body.”

  He didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her fiercely. He pushed the fabric over her hips using both hand and stump. The sweet aroma of desire filled his nostrils. Leaning forward, he pulled her close then nuzzled the smooth skin of her stomach. Her moan issued from deep inside.

  She tunneled her fingers through his hair and held him to her, all the while flexing her hips in time with his kisses. Her ass proved as round and soft as he had imagined it, watching her move around the farm and cabin the last few days. He kneaded her cheeks, pulling them apart far enough to slide his fingers along the crease and between her legs. Each foray released wafts of scent, working its magic.