Just Right!

by DawnMarie Richards

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “That it’s right for you to be together. I mean, you’re so close.” She shook her head. “There’ve been these moments… I could swear the three of you can communicate without speaking.”

  He laughed.

  “I can see why you might think that, but, I promise, we just know each other really well.” She nodded. “The thing is, it’s becoming increasingly clear, we’re going to have a hard time getting what we want out of life if we insist on being a package deal.”

  “I suppose it depends what it is you want.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes. “A family?”

  “Oh.”

  He smiled. “Didn’t expect that, did you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I didn’t. But the three of you … you’re so, I don’t know … I thought you were all on the same page.”

  “We have been.” He frowned and then looked at her. “For a long time.” He cupped her cheek. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you. It’s just, after hearing you talk about your childhood… I can’t quite grasp the concept of being on my own.”

  Christa was having a hard time with the thought of it, herself. The Baers separated? Each with their own home? Their own life? Even if it was of their choosing, it seemed like an abomination against nature.

  “Are you sure you’d have to?”

  “You tell me.” His attention slid to her mouth as he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s one thing to find a woman willing to spend the odd weekend.” He met her gaze. “But make a life with us? Be our wife? The mother to our children?”

  He was being hypothetical, of course. But it didn’t stop Christa’s imagination from running wild … accepting the cozy cabin in the woods as her home, sharing it with the trio of sexy men she found so compelling, and—one day—helping to fill it with a clutch of brown-haired babes with amber eyes. She should have been scandalized. Instead, she felt a peculiar yearning.

  She caught Felix studying her. But before she could ask what it was he’d seen to make his eyes grow wide, he lowered his head. The wistfulness of his kiss had her winding her arms around his neck, pressing tight to him. He caught her up in a powerful embrace, lifting her off her feet and smoothing her legs around his waist. And then, with no notice of his intention, he staggered forward through the snow, carrying her away from the winding trail.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, bewildered, as he set her down and dropped to his knees before her.

  “I need you. Now.”

  The smoldering appeal in his heavy-lidded eyes caused her to reach for his shoulders for support.

  “What? Here?”

  Even as he nodded, she shook her head. They were outdoors, for heaven’s sake. Anyone could wander by, though the path was barely visible through the trees from where they stood. And it was freezing! But she had to admit a charge of curiosity at how he might manage it.

  He unsnapped the waistband of the ski pants they’d lent her and then leaned forward, pressing his lips to the small triangle of exposed skin.

  “Please,” he entreated, his breath hot against her stomach. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  A Baer, on his knees in the snow, begging? Christa doubted there was a woman alive capable of refusing.

  “All right.”

  The two little words were all the encouragement he needed. While she held his shoulders, he eased the pants, along with her tights and panties, over her hips and down to her knees. The he helped her pull her foot from her boot, stripping away her clothes before guiding her toes back into the cozy wool lining. Her other side received the same treatment, and, in no time, she stood before him bare below the waist except for her borrowed Timberlands.

  He smiled up at her, and the sheer gratitude on his face made her giddy. She cupped his cheeks, meaning to pull him up for a kiss, but he slipped from her grasp. Grabbing her ass, he angled her forward and then lowered his head, positioning his mouth over her pussy. She gasped, his tongue molten in her folds, his taste buds tickling over her clit. Her thighs began to quiver. And it had nothing to do with being half naked in the snow.

  Her moan amplified in the crisp air, and she thought about Asher and Tate. Were they wondering what had happened to her and Felix? Would they come looking? She hoped not. Felix seemed to need her to himself. And, to her surprise, she found she needed him just as much.

  He got to his feet, unzipping his jacket, and then hers, before dipping his head. Following his gaze, she watched as he released his erection from the confines of his jeans and then covered it with a condom he produced from his back pocket.

  They looked up at the same time, staring at one another for several heart stopping seconds before he caught her up in his arms, kissing her breathless. She tasted herself on his lips and, with a groan of longing, twined her arms around his neck and pressed her body tight to his. He lifted her, smoothing her legs around his waist beneath the shelter of the hem of his coat. She wriggled over him, taking his hard length deep into her body.

  “Fuck.”

  He repeated the curse, softly, slowly, like a mantra, like a prayer. Christa buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent, cheeks rounded with a broad smile of satisfaction.

  And then he began to move, again. When he stopped, he placed his hand in the center of her chest, urging her away from him to press against the trunk of a massive tree. When she leaned back, he tugged the sides of her jacket further apart. Then he shoved her sweater and bra up over her breasts. The bite of the air drew her nipples to tight peaks. Christa groaned, tipping her chin as he ran the flat of his tongue over a taut nipple.

  She grunted and squirmed, blindly reaching out to tangle her fingers in his hair, pull him closer, and force him to take the wet skin into the warmth of his mouth. But he denied her, pulling away to turn his attention to her opposite breast. Back and forth he moved, the tender skin pinching and puckering in the frigid air.

  “Please.”

  The plea, torn from her lips, echoed in the silent woods around them.

  “Please what?” he panted.

  “Please. Oh, please. Make me come.” She buried her face in his neck. “Please make me come, Felix.”

  “Soon, little one,” he promised. “Soon.”

  She lifted her head, piqued.

  “I’m not a child,” she managed between gasps, the objection ruined by a punctuating groan.

  For a heartbeat, he lost rhythm, as if unnerved. Sliding in deep, he went still, bringing his hand to her face.

  “I don’t think you’re a child, Christa.”

  “Then why?” she rasped.

  “To remind me…”

  “Remind you of what?” she prodded, gazing into his upturned face.

  She sucked in an unsteady breath at the intensity in his coppery eyes.

  “You’ve been through so much in your life. Abandoned, used, hurt … and yet, you’re not afraid. I call you little one so I don’t forget. You may seem strong, able to take on the three of us and whatever we might dish out, but you’re still vulnerable. And your pleasure…”

  Closing his eyes, he slid slowly in and out of her, his hands tight on her hips.

  “To me, your pleasure is everything.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, head falling back, dappled sunlight warming her skin. “Oh!”

  Felix reached up, pressing his ring and middle fingers between her lips as he began a slippery, winding tango, so deep and deliberate, it left her feeling branded, owned. She did her best to claim him in kind, digging her nails into his shoulders. Sucking eagerly, she drew her tongue over his skin, wondering if the intricate swirls and ridges were unique to him, or if he shared even these with his brothers.

  All at once, the ache became too much and she opened her mouth on a frustrated gasp. As if it were exactly what he’d been waiting for, Felix withdrew his fingers. And then, slick with her spit, slipped them between the cheeks of her ass, high inside her. Her muscles contracted as one before expanding
in a sweeping explosion, Christa’s cries echoing endlessly over the frosted mountainside.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I think she might be the one.”

  “The one what?”

  “What do you think? The one we’ve been looking for.”

  “You can’t be serious, Felix. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Goldie’s great. But the one? We’ve known her for about five minutes.”

  “When has that ever stopped us?”

  “Never … from taking a woman to our beds. But inviting her into our home?”

  Christa willed herself to be still. She must have misunderstood. Or, perhaps, she wasn’t really awake. And the bizarre conversation was nothing more than another freakish dream.

  “Look.” Felix sounded especially exasperated. “We let her go back … to work, friends, normal life … and you know what will happen.”

  “She’ll convince herself it was just sex,” Asher said flatly.

  “Right. A fling, a weekend tryst, nothing less and, certainly, nothing more.”

  “And what’s she going to think of us asking her to stay?”

  “She’ll probably think we’re out of our minds.”

  “My point, exactly! I’d rather not ruin what might be our last night together.”

  “So you’d take one more fuck over the possibility of a future?”

  “It’s not a possibility, Felix! It’s a fucking fantasy!”

  “Calm down, both of you. You’re going to wake her up.”

  “All right then, Asher. What do you think we should do?”

  “Talk to her tonight.”

  “Figures.”

  “Look, Tate, no matter how we do this, she’s probably going to need some time to think about it.”

  “Right from the beginning, you two haven’t given Goldie enough credit. She’s not some shrinking violet, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “We’ve noticed,” Felix grumbled.

  “Yes, we have,” Asher conceded. “But we’re not just talking about sex—”

  “I know that.” Tate cut his brother off, sounding more impatient than usual. “But it’s not like she’s got anything to go back to.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “Is it, Felix? Have you forgotten the things she told us on Friday? Or last night? She’s got no family. No friends.”

  “What about Lana?” Asher reasoned.

  “Right,” Tate scoffed. “Some best friend. She abandoned her for some guy she’d just met. And do you really think Christa will be all that anxious to get back to Lana’s couch after we offer her our guest room?”

  Christa held her breath. What the hell was Tate saying?

  “Sleeping arrangements aside, she has a life,” Asher explained, gently. “Not to mention the challenges of living with three men.” Ignoring Tate’s dismissive huff, he continued, “Look, we just have to be prepared. If she says no, we have to let her go.”

  “Oh, I see,” Tate drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm. “I thought we’d chain her in the basement until she comes to her senses.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Tate,” Felix bellowed. “That shit’s not helpful!”

  “Shh,” Asher hissed.

  The room went quiet, and Christa forced herself to relax, imagining three sets of eyes focusing on her.

  “Looks like she’s still asleep,” Asher assured the others.

  “What the hell’s your problem, Felix?”

  “Sorry. I just … I need her to stay,” he finished gruffly.

  After a moment of charged silence, Tate murmured, “Never thought I’d hear you say something like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve never shown more than a weekend’s worth of interest in a woman.”

  “Yeah, well, obviously Christa’s different. Isn’t that the point?”

  Again, conversation halted, Christa sensing Felix was being scrutinized by his brothers.

  “What happened this afternoon after Asher and I took off?”

  “What do you mean?” Felix snapped.

  “I mean, what happened … beyond the obvious, of course? Did she say something?”

  “No. Well, yes…”

  “Which is it?”

  “Ease off, Tate.”

  “No. He knows something, and he’s not telling us. What the hell, Felix!”

  “It wasn’t anything she said…”

  She heard footsteps and rustling, imagined Felix pacing, running his fingers over his hair.

  “I was the one doing all the talking, about the future … us not being able to stay together. And I saw something … in her eyes.”

  “You saw something… Are you telling me you’ve got your balls in a bunch because of a look?”

  “Yes.” Felix’s tone dared contradiction.

  “I don’t know what short circuited in your brain when you first laid eyes on her, Felix, but I have to say I really think you’ve lost it.”

  “Fuck you, Tate.”

  “Right back at you, bro!”

  Clutching at the couch cushions, Christa pulled herself up to sitting.

  “Stop it!”

  She looked from one to the other, wildly. Tate was coiled with tension, his hands curled into meaty fists. Felix, chest puffed with misguided pride, willing to take whatever his brother dished out to prove his belief in her affection. And Asher, ever the referee, his shoulder wedged between the two.

  “I was. All right?” She tore her gaze from Tate to take in each of his brothers. “I was thinking about staying here, living with you, having brown-eyed babies.”

  Clapping her hand over her mouth, Christa flopped back down out of sight. All the sex had obviously had an effect on her filter. The situation was absurd. Which was more reckless? Asking a woman to move in after knowing her for a weekend? Or being the woman who said yes to such an outrageous proposal? Perhaps she’d never woken up at all the other morning. Perhaps she was still dreaming. A delusion brought on by alcohol and an overactive imagination. Wake up, she pleaded. Wake up!

  Instead, a bearded smirk appeared in her peripheral vision.

  “My, Goldie,” he quipped. “What big ears you have.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Tears stung her eyes. “I just … I can’t stand being the reason you fight.”

  “I know I wouldn’t have minded getting a couple of punches in,” Felix told her gently as he bent over her legs, lifting them up before sitting down and settling them over his lap.

  “As if that would have happened,” Tate scoffed as he knelt down, crossing his arms over the back of the couch.

  “Let’s give it a rest, guys.” Asher smiled down at her. “May I?”

  Christa nodded and then lifted, waiting until Asher had settled beneath her before resting her head on his thigh. He gently stroked her hair.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Most of it, I think. Asking me to stay.” She gave Tate a sidelong glance. “The prospect of chaining me in the basement.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Interested, Goldie?”

  “Please.” She sat up, clasping her hands in her lap before looking at each of them in turn. “You can’t be serious. We hardly know each other.”

  Asher put a hand over hers.

  “We know it’s strange.”

  “But what would you suggest, Goldie? Dating?” Reaching over the back of the couch, he slid his hand over her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple to attention through her shirt and bra. “Don’t you think we’re a bit past that?”

  “I suppose,” she conceded, closing her eyes and giving a quiet moan.

  “Tate.”

  At Asher’s reprimand, his brother withdrew his hand. Christa opened her eyes, shifting her gaze from one man to the other. She reached out, touching their faces. They’d become so familiar to her in such a short time. She could almost anticipate their reactions. The way Tate’s eyes grew wide, his expression hungry, whereas Felix closed his, as if savo
ring every touch. And Asher, his thoughtful gaze never failed to warm her heart.

  “How is this possible?” she murmured. “I can’t have feelings for all of you. Can I? After just one weekend?”

  Felix slid his hands up her calves, fingertips teasing at the sensitive spot behind her knees before gliding higher, her legs parting instinctively to accommodate his gentle exploration.

  “Why not?” he challenged.

  “Because it’s not normal.”

  “Normal’s overrated.”

  She couldn’t disagree. She’d been trying desperately to be normal for years, and what had it gotten her besides heartache and disappointment?

  “I don’t know…”

  “We don’t know either, Christa,” Asher told her. “But the idea of taking you back to Lana’s…” He shook his head.

  She smiled. “I can’t imagine it either.”

  “Then stay. You know there’s plenty of room.”

  “But I’ve got work. I’ll need clothes … and my car.”

  “Is that a yes, Goldie?” Tate asked, hope lighting his eyes. “Sounds a hell of a lot like a yes.”

  She nodded, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word out loud.

  “Little one?” Felix prompted.

  She should have known a head bob wouldn’t be enough for him.

  “Yes,” she told him, shifting her gaze to take in all three. “Yes.”

  They crowded around her, but it was Felix who took her face in his hands, sealing the deal with a possessive kiss.

  Epilogue

  Spring had come to the meadow, snow giving way to tender blades of grass. The trees at the periphery sported new foliage in yellows, greens, and reds, the muted shades foreshadowing what would be their autumn brilliance. And, in a burst of tiny blossoms, bluebells cast a cheery carpet over the forest floor.

  Christa knelt next to a large wicker basket, emptying its contents onto the picnic blanket spread out amongst the flowers. After making a pyramid of cellophane-wrapped submarine sandwiches, she set out two large containers. One was filled with cubed fruit, the other, a fresh garden salad. Next, she unpacked a couple of family-sized bags of potato chips and a Thermos of lemonade, followed by paper cups, plates, and napkins, and an assortment of plastic utensils. Finally, she added Ethan’s beloved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to the feast. White bread with the crusts removed and halved on the diagonal, as decreed by the tiny tyrant she, Felix, Asher, and Tate had created.