He punctuated the promise with a playful slap. The unexpected sensation proved too much for her overwrought system, setting off a violent orgasm.
“Tate!” Asher complained.
“What the fuck did I do!”
Wave after crashing wave of sensation undulated through her, sending her back curving in a feline arch, her shoulders dropping. Toes curling into the floor, she dug her fingernails into flesh.
“Shit!”
Strong hands gripped her wrists, fingers bit into her hips, holding her, tethering her. And from the recesses of her mind, a dark image emerged. A body lying still in the grass, its flesh torn open, eyes staring unseeing into the distance. Three mighty beasts circled the carnage, their triumph echoing off the surrounding mountainsides.
Chapter Nine
Christa woke to silence, struggling to lift her eyelids. The fire had reduced to embers. Their light cast a faint glow, enough to see she was alone. Shivering, she curled tighter into herself, confused by the overwhelming urge to cry.
It wasn’t guilt or shame. Far from it. With the Baers she’d felt more herself, more real, than any other time in her life. And there’d been no judgment, no denial. As they’d promised, they’d given her everything she needed … and more. And for the first time in forever, the endless thirst had been quenched, the ceaseless inferno dampened. Christa knew complete and utter satisfaction.
But she couldn’t help thinking it had taken an imaginative and sexually dynamic trio of lovers to achieve. A circumstance as extraordinary as it was unlikely to be repeated. No conventional relationship would ever compare. By indulging her darkest fantasy, had she doomed her future to failure?
A form separated from the shadows, distracting her from her melancholy thoughts. She recognized Asher dressed in jeans and a white, button-down shirt. Several logs were balanced in the crook of his arm. Barefoot, he padded toward the fireplace. After placing the logs into the hearth, he straightened and then headed toward her. He slipped a blanket from over his shoulder, letting it fall open before lightly laying it over her. As if unsure, he hesitated, but then reached out and trailed his fingertips over her hair.
“Where is everyone?” she whispered.
He lowered to one knee, bending and tilting his head to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“Good.”
He laid his arm over her, and, again, a wave of sadness washed through her.
“I’m cold,” she told him, instead.
“Blanket’s not helping?”
She shook her head, pulling the afghan closer around her.
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”
When he stood, Christa clutched his leg on impulse. Despite how she’d felt just moments ago, she knew only one kind of heat would banish her chill. Perhaps Brandon had been right. She was an insatiable whore, never satisfied, always looking for her next sexual high. What was wrong with her?
Suddenly ashamed, she let her hand fall away.
“Hey,” Asher called to her softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze. Asher stood in front of her, unbuttoning his shirt. In short order, he’d shed his clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor as he climbed over her and then slipped beneath the blanket behind her. Sliding one arm under her head, he hooked the other over her waist, snugging her into the protective curve of his body.
“Oh.” Christa let out a contented sigh. The friendly ease of Asher’s embrace soothed her. Crossing her arms over his, she breathed a sincere, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“This.”
She closed her eyes at his quiet chuckle.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“For what?”
He shifted his hips, Christa’s eyes going wide as a bold erection settled in the small of her back.
“What is it about you?”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Yes, you. No woman has ever affected us like this.” He ground against her. “We can’t seem to get enough.”
She knew the feeling. “Where are Felix and Tate?”
He rose up and then bent over her, leaning on his elbow.
“Grocery store.” He brushed her hair back from her face before easing her back against him, his hand on her shoulder. “We weren’t exactly prepared for a weekend guest.”
“Weekend guest?” she wondered. “Is that what I am?”
He slid his hand down the side of her face, using his thumb to tip her chin.
Staring deeply into her eyes, he said, “Only if you want to be.” He leaned in and kissed her before lifting his head and whispering, “Please say you do.”
“Oh, yes.”
He smiled and then lowered his head. Christa closed her eyes as he nuzzled her.
“Is this okay?” she murmured.
“Hmm?” he inquired, apparently more interested in exploring the curve of her neck than conversation.
“Is it okay for us to be together when your brothers aren’t here?”
She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.
He paused and then slowly met her gaze.
“Is that what you want?”
Try as she might, she couldn’t read his expression.
“I … I…”
“Christa.” He cupped her cheek, staying her stammer by sweeping his thumb over her lower lip. “There’s nothing wrong with needing more.”
“I didn’t think I did. But, now, with you next to me… The thing is, I can’t stand the idea of causing trouble between the three of you.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. It can’t happen.” He smiled at her doubtful expression. “Trust me.” He became thoughtful. “We’ve been with a couple of women who tried.” He shrugged. “Like they got off on that sort of thing. We’d put on a good show for them. But the three of us, we’re bound to each other in a way most people couldn’t possibly understand.”
She remembered how effortlessly they’d shared her, making and taking suggestions to increase the pleasure, hers as well as each other’s.
“You feed off one another.”
“We do.” He nodded. “We’re definitely better together, but…” He looked down at her, a slow grin splitting his face. “We can hold our own when needed.”
Christa dipped her head, suddenly shy. “I have no doubt.”
“So, I guess the only question is…” He crooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “What is it you need?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out.
“Maybe this will help you decide.”
Asher lowered his head, kissing her until a soulful groan escaped her. Then he eased her away from him, positioning her to lie half on her stomach, her bottom propped in the air. Beneath the blanket, he slid his hand over the rise of her ass. Dipping down between her thighs, he caressed her, the tip of his middle finger nudging her clit as he drew his hand from front to back.
“Do you need to come, Christa?”
“Oh, please,” she whispered.
“Please what? Let me hear you say it.”
“I need to come, Asher. Please.”
He curled around her, his stubble chafing her cheek. “So sweet,” he murmured against her skin. “Say it again.”
“Please, Asher,” she begged. “Please make me come.”
Alternately, he eased and tormented her, her muscles bunching and releasing, time losing all meaning as he kept her dancing on the edge. The thud of the garage’s safety door made her jump.
“Hush,” he crooned, rimming her ear with the tip of his tongue.
Christa bit her lip as a shiver traveled her spine, the sounds of footsteps and rustling grocery bags telling her and Asher, they were no longer alone. Mercilessly, he honed in on her clit, making tight, tender circles without pause. She came within seconds, pressing her fa
ce into the couch cushions to muffle her helpless whimpers.
She’d barely had time to recover when Asher urged her onto her back. Stretching over her, he retrieved his jeans from the floor. After fumbling in the pockets for a couple of seconds, he got on his knees. Christa blinked up at him, watching as he slid the condom from its packaging and then rolled it down his length.
She stifled her groan as he slid in deep. Humming her approval, she wound his waist with her legs and dug her fingers into his ass. Curved around him, she reveled in the feel of his trim body rippling over hers, his hips buffering against her, like waves breaking onto the shore.
With a sound somewhere between a plea and a groan, Asher buried his face in her neck. Muscles coiling, he caught her up in an ever-tightening embrace. She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. And then he began to shudder, triggering convulsions deep inside her. They rippled outward over her skin until every part of her throbbed in fierce, silent release.
Chapter Ten
Christa leaned back in her chair, groaning as she pressed a hand to her belly. She’d made a pig of herself, but it wasn’t entirely her fault. Asher’s pot roast had been so good she hadn’t been able to stop eating it.
“Where did you learn to cook like that?”
Asher laughed and reached for his wineglass before settling back in his chair.
“Mostly self-taught.”
“So your mother didn’t—”
“Oh, no! She’s a horrible cook!” Tate interjected.
Felix narrowed his gaze before turning to Christa.
“Our brother exaggerates. Mother can be a bit—” he glanced toward the ceiling, as if the word he wanted might be written there, “preoccupied.”
“Well, I can see why,” Christa chimed in, fighting a smile as they turned to her, each with the same expectant expression. “Oh, come on. The three of you as boys? Hellions in triplicate, I bet. It’s no wonder she was ‘preoccupied’.”
She shrugged as if she’d said all that needed saying, then left them to think what they would. Casually, she reached for her glass and took a sip. The wine was good. Full-bodied with a spicy finish, it had gone well with the food.
“Yeah, well,” Tate drawled, evidently not ready to concede the point. “We haven’t lived with her for close to twenty years, and she still burns everything.”
Asher sighed, and, in her peripheral vision, Christa caught Felix leaning forward.
“Tell me about her,” she asked quietly.
“Our mother?”
She turned to Asher. “Yes. I’m so curious. I mean, how did she manage?”
“Outside of the kitchen,” Asher allowed with a shy grin. “I’d say pretty well. She likes to say we gave her a run for her money.”
“Still do.” Tate emptied his wine glass and then reached for the bottle.
“That’s true,” Asher agreed. “But most of the time she says it with a smile.”
“She’s beautiful,” Tate told her over the rim of his refilled glass.
“I’ve no doubt.” Christa saluted him before taking another sip. “And what about your father?”
Tate grinned. “I suppose he’s a pretty good-looking guy.”
“And are he and your mother still together?”
“Most definitely,” Tate drawled. “They’re rather disgustingly in love.”
Christa laughed. For some reason, knowing Felix, Tate, and Asher came from a happy home made her absurdly glad.
“Do you get to see them very often?”
“We try to get down to see them about once a week,” Asher answered.
“Oh. They live close?”
“In Danfield.”
She straightened with interest. “But that’s where I live! Well … lived,” she finished sedately, leaning back in her seat.
“It’s where we grew up,” Asher explained.
Christa imagined three dark-haired boys tossing around a football in the park near the townhouse she’d shared with Brandon. It hadn’t been so long ago she’d daydreamed about walking its crisscrossing paths pushing a stroller. What a fool she’d been!
“Must have been wonderful.”
She stared into the ruby depths of her wine glass.
“We’re so sorry, Christa.”
Curiosity brought her gaze to Asher.
“For what?”
“That you didn’t have that kind of childhood.”
“Oh.” She smiled before taking a quick sip of wine. She kept forgetting they knew things about her. Things she didn’t remember telling them. “It’s fine. I mean…” She tipped her glass to her lips once more. “I was luckier than most. My foster families were good to me.”
“Families?” Felix queried, his eyes narrowed.
“It’s pretty common, actually. I was in three different homes before aging out.”
“What the hell is aging out?” he demanded.
“You have to leave the system once you turn eighteen. But it was fine,” she hurried on at the stormy look on Felix’s face. “I got really lucky with my last family. They’re great people. They do a lot of work with teens. Get them ready to be out on their own. I did well in school, so they helped me apply for special programs and get into college. After that, things pretty much fell into place for me. At least in the job department.”
“And in the other departments?” Felix prodded.
“Well…” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s safe to say I’ve had my share of problems in the relationship department.”
Felix muttered something she didn’t quite catch.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, ‘Not your problems’.”
“That’s not true, Felix. Or fair,” she added meekly. “I mean, Brandon was definitely being an ass yesterday, but he wasn’t always like that. He was good for me in a lot of ways. And he had a huge family. Did I tell you that?” She grew wistful as images from last year’s Christmas flitted through her head. “The holidays were pure chaos. Nieces and nephews and second cousins.” She gave a little laugh as she shook her head. “Really, when I think about it, I had no business.” Dropping her gaze, she muttered, “I didn’t belong—”
“Fuck that!” Felix bellowed.
She lifted her head, surprised at his vehemence.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t take another second of this bullshit,” he bit out. “He knew damn well how much you wanted it, the security, the family, even the chaos. And he used it against you, controlling you, keeping you in line. The second he saw you might need the tiniest bit more than he wanted to give, he threw you out. Fucking threw you out!” Agitated, Felix ran his fingers over the bristle of his close-cropped hair before bringing his fists down on the table with a muted thud. “He’s an asshole, Christa. Plain and simple. Not worth your pity or one iota of regret.”
Christa opened her mouth to argue, but something Felix had said had her pressing her lips together.
“What, exactly, did I tell you about what happened between me and Brandon?”
The heat cooled in Felix’s gaze, as if he realized he’d said too much. She saw his brothers’ furtive glances, but he kept his eyes on her. Slowly, he pushed back from the table.
“Come here,” he crooned, patting his lap.
She shook her head. “Not until you tell me.”
“I said, come here,” he repeated more sternly. “Now.”
Knowing there would be no denying him, Christa got to her feet. Reluctantly, she made her way toward him.
“Sit,” he told her when she stood by his side.
“I don’t want—”
“Sit!”
She perched on his knees, her back ramrod straight. But Felix was having none of her petulance. Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her close. For several moments, he simply held her. The steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her, drawing the tension from her muscles. Sighing, she sank against him.
“You called it The Humiliation.”
“No.”
<
br /> The word came out in a breathless rush, as if Christa had been punched. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut against the nauseating images she knew would haunt her forever. The water had been running for several minutes, so she’d known she didn’t have much time before Brandon returned from his customary, post-coital shower. Legs splayed, both hands between her thighs, she’d worked furiously at her not quite sated clit. And as the first contractions of orgasm had gripped her, she’d heard his voice, too close and sneering. “You ungrateful cunt.” Her eyes had flown open, but it was too late. Despite his horrified expression, she’d twitched helplessly with release. He’d dragged her off the bed, barely giving her time to get dressed before ordering her from the house. All the while, he’d ranted, calling her disgusting, perverted, a thankless whore. And the worst part had been she’d been unable to contradict him.
She hid her face against Felix’s chest.
“I want to go home,” she whispered, embarrassingly close to tears. “Please take me home.”
Felix held her tighter. “Sorry, little one. Not going to happen.”
“But you said—” A hiccup interrupted.
Strong fingers beneath her chin pulled her from her hiding place. Tate crouched in front of her, his gaze warm and understanding.
“Now, why in the world would you want to leave, Goldie?”
“I’m only here because you think I’m some kind of a freak,” she muttered weakly.
“For fuck’s sake,” Felix complained behind her. “See! This is why I had to tell her. The fucker made her think there’s something wrong with her.” He hugged her tighter. “You’re not a freak,” he insisted. “You’re a healthy, sexy, highly-responsive woman. You’re fucking perfect.”
Despite the situation, she couldn’t help the buoyant giggle which escaped her.
“There.” Asher beamed at her where he stood, behind his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not such a big deal. So you needed a little topper. We don’t have any problem with that.”
Of course they didn’t. Whether food, or cocks, or orgasms, the Baers were more than capable of exceeding any and all of her expectations. It wasn’t a fair comparison.
Still, she felt raw and exposed, vulnerable in a way with which she wasn’t certain she could cope. But as the Baers continued to hold and pet her, a strange thing began to happen. A measure of relief wound its way through the tumult of competing emotions. They’d known and had brought her home with them, had gone to the trouble of convincing her to stay, had taken their time tasting and teasing her until she’d been ready to move forward. In fact, in the short time she’d been with them, they’d shown her more deference and respect than Brandon had in the two long years she was coming to understand she’d wasted on him.
Just Right! Page 6