by Jane Jamison
Damian played with her nipples, pinching and twisting them, adding another layer of delight. Samuel held back, but whenever she glanced at him, his face was filled with awe and desire.
“Morgan, remember she’s human. She can’t last as long as you can.” Damian squeezed her breasts then kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re amazing, sweetness.”
Morgan grunted his answer then increased the speed of his penetrations. Moving faster, he rammed her again and again, harder and harder.
She couldn’t have held back her orgasm if she’d tried. The explosion tore through her. Her body shuddered as her release took her.
Morgan grunted again then, without warning, pulled out of her. He fell away, his growl turning into a moan. “Fuck. Too fast. Next time…”
“Another promise?” she whispered and collapsed onto the floor.
“Are you all right, baby?” Samuel eased her off the floor and onto his lap with her back to his chest.
“I’m great,” she answered in a breathy voice.
“Good. If you’d said no, I would’ve gone crazy.”
She leaned against him, her hand snaking to the back of his neck. “You feel really good.” She squirmed against his steel-hard erection. “Really good.”
“Well, you know what they say, right?”
“What?” Her hand over her breast covered his.
“Wizards do it better.”
“That’s the biggest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Damian took her chin again, his bewitching eyes once more searching her. “And I’ve lived longer than any of you.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Brookie.” Morgan rested against the wall. “He’s an old man. Better take it easy on him.”
“Fuck you,” muttered Damian.
“No. Fuck me,” she urged.
In the next moment, Samuel did, slipping his cock into her asshole. “Morgan loosened you up as much as his tiny cock could. Hang on, baby, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
She gasped as he thrust his hips upward, driving into her. Her hair bounced around her shoulders, but Samuel kept her breasts firmly in his hands.
She rotated her hips, hoping to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her. She didn’t, however, expect Damian to join in.
“Stand up, Samuel.”
Stand up? But how can he with—
She let out a squeal as Samuel, keeping his cock still inside, used the wall for leverage to stand. Whether it was by his strength or with magic thrown in, he stood then moved his hips forward, putting her at an angle.
Damian wrapped her legs around his waist. Touching her cheek, he put his cock at her pussy entrance then slowly, seductively eased his cock inside her.
“Oooh.” The way he’d entered her was different from the way Morgan and Samuel had done so yet just as primal. She tightened her pussy walls at the same time she tightened the walls of her anus.
Who had captured whom? Were their cocks the prisoners of her body? Or was it the other way round?
Damian and Samuel plunged into her, thrusting their cocks as deep as they could go. She did her best to keep up. She gripped Damian’s shoulders, keeping her attention on his intense expression. Samuel nibbled at her neck between his pants, and sweat formed between the three of them.
They were men of steel in all the right ways. From their bodies to their minds, they were stronger than any men she’d ever met.
Their climaxes came seconds after each other. She cried out, her body convulsing again as an even bigger, stronger orgasm ripped outward. Morgan pumped his cock furiously and joined them in their releases.
As soon as Damian pulled out, Samuel kept her steady and slipped down the wall to the floor. Her body would no longer respond. Instead, she was limp like a rag doll.
“Easy, sweetness. Just relax.” Damian slipped his arms under her and lifted her into his arms. “You deserve a good rest.” With Morgan opening her bedroom door, Damian carried her inside and laid her on top of her bed.
Morgan strode into the adjoining bathroom, grabbed some towels and tossed them to everyone. Slowly, seductively, they cleaned each other. When they were finished, the men crawled on the bed to lie next to her.
Brooklyn was sure she’d died and gone to heaven. How else could she explain how wonderful her life had turned out since returning home to West End? The men she’d loved, the men she’d fantasized about for years, were hers for the rest of her life.
“I’m so happy we’re together now.” She sighed and skimmed her hands over each of them.
“We should’ve been together sooner,” added Damian. “Hell, we’ve always loved you. I don’t know why we didn’t recognize sooner that the kind of love we had for you had changed.”
“I think Reagan realized it before any of us.” Samuel slicked his tongue along the curve of her waist, tickling her.
“I can’t believe you didn’t catch on.” Morgan kissed the back of her knee, tickling and arousing her at the same time.
“How was I to know Reagan was feeding you information about me every time I called home to FaceTime with her?”
“You couldn’t have known. Once we’d figured it out, we swore her to secrecy. Besides, what were we supposed to say? Should we have let our sister tell you how much we missed you?” Morgan kissed higher along her thigh.
“Or that we wanted you?” asked Damian.
“I wish she had. I would’ve come home sooner.” Even her goal of finishing school wouldn’t have kept her away.
“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” Samuel lay next to her, using his magic to write her initials and his in the air above them. Gold script floated on the air and then slowly dissipated.
She curled against Damian, feeling happier than she’d ever felt. “I’m home, aren’t I? I’m really home.”
“You always have been. It’s just now we all realize it.” He wrapped his arm around her as Samuel gave up making initials in the air and traced a pattern along her arm. Morgan decided to scoot lower so he could nibble on her calf.
The knock on the door came as a surprise. “Brooklyn?”
She glanced at Damian then at the door. Reagan wouldn’t disturb them if it wasn’t important. “Yes?”
“Sheriff Benedict is here. He says he has to talk to you.”
“What about?” She’d never been nervous around the sheriff, yet suddenly she was frightened.
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. I’ll wait with him while you guys, um, get ready.”
“What’s going on?” asked Morgan as he sat up.
“I don’t know.” She tried to squash her fear but couldn’t. Something inside her warned her to expect trouble. “Like Reagan said. I’ll have to ask him.”
Brooklyn hurriedly dressed in clean clothing, then rushed to see the sheriff. She left the men behind to gather their clothes and get dressed.
The closer she came, the harder it was to move her limbs. Once she saw the sheriff, she halted, hesitating before walking those last few feet toward the sheriff and his deputy, Foster Harper. His expression sent a cold chill running down her spine. “Hi, Sheriff. Hi, Foster. Did you need to talk to me?”
“I did.” The sheriff’s gaze darted to the men and Reagan. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“Okay. About what?”
“It’s about that tourist named Randall Cartlidge, the one who kept saying you cheated him.”
“I remember.” Her mouth dried until she was certain she couldn’t speak again. Her voice broke as she found the words. “What about him?”
“As you know, I personally escorted him onto the ferry, but I guess he came back.”
“He did?” Alarm stiffened her. She pulled in a hard breath.
“Is that why you’re here, Sheriff?” asked Damian. “To warn her?”
“Sorry, it’s not.” The sheriff kept his attention on her. “Where were you last night, Brooklyn?”
“I was working. In fact, I closed up.”
&
nbsp; “And after that?”
For a moment, she didn’t understand the question. Then, once she did, it was difficult to think. “I came home. I was really tired.”
“Did any of you see her?”
“What are you getting at?” Damian’s look was bleak, adding to Brooklyn’s nervousness. “What’s happened?”
“Did anyone see you come into the house, Brooklyn? Can anyone corroborate the time you got home?”
“Corroborate?” Reagan’s voice lifted in pitch. “It sounds like you’re about to accuse her of a crime. Tell us what’s going on.”
Sheriff Benedict drew in a long breath. “Just answer the question. Did any of you see her come inside the house and note the time?”
Reagan nodded. “I saw her come in, yes.”
“And what time was it?”
Reagan stalled, obviously not wanting to answer. “It was late. Around midnight, I guess.”
“Two hours after the diner closed.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “Reagan, did you notice anything about her? Anything at all?”
“Like what?” Reagan’s eyes flecked with amber as her wolf rose to the surface.
“Reagan, it’s okay. Just answer his questions.” Brooklyn took her friend’s hand. “I didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s no need to get upset.”
“I didn’t say anything to her. I saw her come in, saw how tired and dirty she looked, and left her alone. That’s it.”
“How dirty she was?” Sheriff Benedict’s attention grew more intense. “What do you mean?”
Reagan looked to Brooklyn then to her brother before finally answering. “She had mud on her clothes. I assumed the guys and she were out, um, having fun and she got dirty.”
“Are you sure it was mud on her clothes?” He paused, gritted his teeth, then frowned at Morgan, who averted his gaze. “Could it have been something else?”
Brooklyn crossed her arms, her hands under her armpits to hide how much her hands were shaking. “You’re scaring me, Sheriff.”
“Damn it, Benedict. You’d better have a damn good reason for interrogating her,” warned Damian.
“Unfortunately, I do. Where are those clothes, Brooklyn? Did you wash them?”
She glanced toward the bedroom. “No. I stupidly wore them into work today. They’re in the bedroom right now. But, Sheriff, it’s hamburger and other blood from the meat at the diner. You know how rare some of the folks around here like their meat. Bloody even.”
He nodded toward his deputy. “Foster, go round up those clothes.”
“Now hold on.” Samuel stepped in front of Foster, blocking his way. Morgan, his eyes flecked with amber like his sister’s, moved beside Samuel. “You can’t come into someone’s home and pick up their clothing. Tell us what’s going on.”
“I can get a judge to issue a search warrant, or we can let the town handle it in their usual way. Fortunately for us, Cartlidge didn’t have any family to cause a problem. Still, I’m not going to sweep this kind of thing under the table, no matter who’s involved.”
“You’d better start explaining right now.” Damian’s glare bored into the sheriff.
“Brooklyn, someone saw you at Blue Lake the other night. Were you out there?”
“No.” She struggled to remember, once more her memory failing her. “I haven’t been out to the lake for a while now.” Yet, deep inside her, a feeling said she was wrong.
“Who said they saw her?” asked Damian, his tone cold. “Whoever they are, they’re a damn liar.”
“That’s to be seen, Damian. Until then, I’m going to do my job.”
“Reagan, show the deputy where to find my clothes, please.” She had to get it finished. As soon as they understood that the blood on her clothes was from meat at the diner, then she’d be all right.
“Are you sure, Brooklyn? You don’t have to do a damn thing.”
“Reagan, please.”
Reagan growled, more at the deputy starting toward her than disagreeing with Brooklyn’s order. “Fine. But I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”
“Sheriff, did someone die?”
She saw the answer in his eyes before he spoke.
“Someone hit Randall Cartlidge over the head then dumped his body in the lake.”
The barest of memories hit her.
A bundle.
A body?
Yet before she could solidify the memory, it was gone. But it couldn’t be. She’d never been violent.
“Brooklyn, that man attacked you twice. If you had to defend yourself, then say so.”
She opened her mouth to deny it then simply shook her head. “I really don’t know anything about his death. I swear.”
The memory whipped through again, weakening her knees. Did she know what happened to Cartlidge?
“I hate like hell to do this…” Sheriff Benedict shook his head. “Brooklyn Hightower, you’re under arrest for the murder of Randall Cartlidge. You have a right…”
The rest of what happened was lost in a swirl of emotions wrapped up in a strange numbness as the sheriff continued talking. Her men’s and Reagan’s strong voices blurred together.
Chapter Eight
“Brooklyn, walk faster.” Reagan took Brooklyn’s arm and tugged her along. “They’re expecting us.”
She’d spent less than three hours in the sheriff’s office before Reagan had shown up and gotten her released. Sheriff Benedict hadn’t bothered putting her in the jail’s one small cell. Instead, he’d allowed her to sit next to his desk as he, once again, hammered her with questions. “Where are the guys?”
“They met with everyone earlier. That’s the reason you’re out. Every single one of them, including witches and wizards alike, vouched for you and wanted you released. With everyone on your side, the sheriff would’ve had hell trying to keep you locked up.”
“All of them?” Having all the shifters as well as those in the magical world come together to support one person was highly unusual, but to have them come together for a human was almost unheard of.
“All of them. Of course, the guys had to agree to a shifter tribunal instead of a regular human trial.” Reagan peered at her as she slid behind the wheel of her Jeep and waited for Brooklyn to get into the passenger side. “That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean Morgan basically had to lie and say you’d already agreed to become a werewolf. Otherwise, I’m not sure they could have pulled it off. Well, that and no one wants to see this thing go to a human trial. Those are always so drawn out.”
“Yes. And he didn’t lie. I do want to become a werewolf. I just haven’t told them yet.” She lifted a hand to a few people she knew. Thankfully, they waved back, relief flooding her. The town really did have her back. At least until she was found guilty. She shook off the awful idea. Why would they find her guilty? She was innocent. She’d told the sheriff everything she knew, right? “Then we’re definitely doing this the supernaturals’ way? No judges or trial?”
“Not unless you want one.”
“No. I’d rather do it the easier, faster way.”
Reagan took it easy going through town, but as soon as they were out of town, she pushed the gas pedal to the floor. “We know who said they saw you at Blue Lake. Lying asshole said he saw you dump a body into the water then toss a frying pan into the woods.”
“A frying pan?” She cringed, thinking of the night at the diner when she’d protected herself with a frying pan.
“Yeah. Cartlidge’s head was bashed in.”
A wave of nausea swept over her. “Who would lie about me that way?”
Reagan’s eyes sparkled with amber. “Take a wild guess. He’s a lying scumbag of a wizard who has it in for Samuel. We think he’s trying to get revenge on Samuel through you.”
It didn’t take long for her to realize who it was. “Thornton. Damn, I knew he worked with dark magic, but I never thought he’d try framing me for murder. He must’ve been the one who killed him.”
“That’s our best theory. The
guys are working on a plan to expose him as the killer.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know.” Reagan glanced at her, concern written in her furrowed brow. “You should know more. Thornton swears you and Cartlidge had sex and then got into another fight. He says that’s what was at the bottom of all Cartlidge’s ranting about you cheating him. He said Cartlidge was your lover and you treated him like shit, driving him crazy. Then, when Cartlidge came at you again, you killed him.”
Brooklyn gaped at her friend. “Nobody’s going to believe that.” She shook her head, trying to get rid of the confusion weighing her down. “No. This is all a lie.”
“Thornton says you must’ve killed Cartlidge at the diner then hidden his body and the pan until you could dispose of them later at the lake.”
“What? That’s insane.”
“Yeah, I know. There are a ton of ridiculous rumors flying around town. Stupid shit like how you and Samuel put a spell on the man and cheated him out of money. Which, again, brings up the thing about Cartlidge saying you cheated him. It’s all bullshit.” She let out a ragged breath. “The town’s gone crazy over this. Of course, no one believes you did anything wrong, but they sure do like to gossip.”
“I couldn’t have lifted Cartlidge.”
Reagan’s expression grew even grimmer. “I know. But like I said, Thornton’s pushing the idea that Samuel helped you.”
Fear changed to anger. It was one thing to accuse her, but to accuse Samuel? “That’s bullshit.”
“Of course it is. We have to prove Thornton’s trying to set you up. Says there’s evidence against you.”
How had everything gone from being so wonderful to horrible? “Are we meeting the guys at the house?”
“I don’t know. They’re planning a way to trick Thornton.”
“Like what?”
“Again, I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me, and they sure won’t tell you. The fewer people who know what they’re planning, the better it’ll work. They don’t want Thornton getting wind of it.”
“What if Thornton’s not involved?”
“He has to be. Why else would he be lying about you and Cartlidge? And about seeing you at the lake?” Reagan’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel. “That asshole’s behind this. You can bet your last dollar on it.”