She gave a light laugh and Brock saw her shoulders relax. Good ol’ Nick. He could always count on his twin to bring levity to a situation when it was needed. Sometimes when it wasn't. But he was spot on right at this moment.
Nick stepped out of his briefs. He bent and snagged his wallet from his jeans, pulling out a square packet. Once he'd rolled the condom onto his erection, he pulled her flush against him. His hands cupped her breasts and he swept his thumbs over her nipples.
She gasped and leaned into him, her back supported by his chest. Her head fell onto his shoulder, though her gaze held steady on Brock.
Nick flicked her nipples, then lifted her into his arms and gently placed her on the bed. He lay beside her, his mouth sipping at hers, nibbling over her jaw and down her throat. Then he turned on his back and urged her to climb on top of him.
Jessica looked over her shoulder at Brock, her expression so full of longing and trepidation that his heart flip-flopped. He had seen in her such strength of will—one that often mirrored his own—and a loneliness that echoed in his soul. Now she was here, with them, trusting them.
God, he loved her.
* * * *
Jessica felt Brock's lips at her shoulder. His big hands reached around her to cup her full, swollen breasts. He gripped her nipples, pinching lightly, making her groan at the hot little flare of pain. She fought to breathe, blanketed by the heat and strength of her two men.
Brock moved away from her for a moment. She heard the tear of paper and looked over to see him sheath himself with a condom. Nick gave a hard tug of her nipples and she closed her eyes at the pleasure-pain. The snap of the cap to the lubricant being flipped open was loud in the stillness, then Brock's weight depressed the mattress again.
"Come here,” Nick murmured. When she leaned down, he licked across one of her nipples and then pulled it between his lips. Excitement and delight shivered through her. His hands slid down her sides to her hips, then smoothed over her buttocks.
Brock placed a kiss at the small of her back. One finger, thickly lubricated, began to work its way through her tight anus. She gasped. Knowing he would soon be putting his much thicker cock there, an instinctive surge of fear made her stiffen for a moment.
"Relax, darlin',” he murmured. “I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."
Jessica forced herself to relax and felt a slight pinch of discomfort that quickly turned to pleasure as the finger glided back out. He added another finger, spreading her, thrusting gently inside as she bucked, shoving back against him.
Nick switched to her other nipple, teeth lightly scraping over the sensitive bud, ramping her arousal ever higher. Brock's fingers, exerting more pressure—making her wonder if he'd added yet another finger—worked slowly up her back entrance, sending fire flaring through her body.
"God, you're so beautiful,” he praised, his voice a low rasp. “I can't wait to work my cock up this tight little hole.” He thrust his hand again. “I think you're ready."
She felt him move into position, and Nick adjusted his hands on her buttocks, pulling the cheeks of her ass apart. At this unknown experience, she once again instinctively tensed.
"Relax for me, darlin'.” Brock stroked one hand down her spine. “I promise, it's gonna be good."
With a deep breath, Jessica forced her muscles to ease. She felt the head of his cock begin to enter her. Slowly stretching her until she cried out at the shocking pain of the entrance. Pain and pleasure both, searing her, holding her immobile, helpless in her passion as he worked his cock inside her.
Nick held her flesh apart, but he murmured encouragement as his mouth caressed her neck, her shoulder. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” His lips sipped away a tear from the corner of her eye. “Brock, you need to ease up."
"No!” She didn't want it to stop. Never wanted it to stop.
"Jessie, you okay?” Strain colored Brock's voice, though she heard an underlying current of lust and tenderness intermixed. He halted his slow, gliding entrance, his thick cockhead resting just past the tight ring of muscles.
With a whimper, she shoved her hips back against him.
"You okay?” he asked again, his hand smoothing down her back once more.
She struggled to accustom herself to his large cock resting just inside her. And, God help her, there was a lot more to come.
"I'm okay,” she gasped, pushing back on his thick length. “God, Brock! More!"
He eased further inside her. One slow, steady stroke had Brock filling her ass completely. As he sank into her to his balls, his harsh groan echoed in the room. He paused, letting her get used to the invasion, then he pulled back and pushed forward again, setting an easy thrusting motion inside her ass.
"Oh, God. Yes,” she cried out, moving her hips against him, driving him deeper. Pain flared on each inward thrust, hot pleasure seared her with every withdrawal.
He drove into her again, and again. Then stilled. Jessica started to protest, but when Nick began pushing his hard cock into her vagina, she lost her breath. Brock's shaft filled her ass, leaving little room in her snug pussy. But Nick didn't let that stop him.
"God, you're tight.” He groaned, sinking slowly into her heated depths. “So hot."
Reality spiraled away. She was on her hands and knees, sandwiched between them, begging for more. Her gasping cries mingled with their lower moans as they set up a slow, rhythmic motion that drowned her in the ecstasy spearing her body. She jerked against them, taking them, urging them on without words until they powered into her, hard and fast and deep.
Her body tightened, the pressure of climax boiling inside her until the piercing pleasure and burning, wicked pain was too much. She screamed out as her orgasm exploded, her body clamping down on them, her ass and her pussy milking their shafts. She heard their harsh groans, felt their hard cocks jerking inside her.
Her climax shuddered through her, over and over until she fell against Nick, boneless with exhaustion.
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CHAPTER 9
Jessica lay still while Brock eased out of her body. He rose from the bed, and Nick gently turned her onto her side so he could rise as well. He stroked his fingers down her cheek, then leaned over and kissed her. “Be right back."
Brock opened the door and peered out, head tilted to one side in an attitude of listening. Making sure Nana wasn't around, she knew. When her grandmother got together with one of her friends, she could spend hours away from home.
Once he was sure Nana wasn't going to see them leaving Jessica's bedroom, Brock and then Nick left her room. She heard water running from the bathroom and the low murmur of their voices. She should get cleaned up, too, but she didn't have the energy to move.
Within a couple of minutes they returned. Nick had a washcloth in one hand. As Brock closed the door, Nick sat down beside her. “Turn on your back,” he murmured.
Once she'd done so, he ran the cool, wet cloth between her breasts, then under, and down her belly until he reached her pussy. Though she felt some embarrassment at having him perform such an intimate ministration, her innate shyness wasn't strong enough to make her stop him. And when he told her to turn onto her stomach, she did so without hesitation.
The coolness felt wonderful against her sore bottom. He let it rest against her anus a moment or two, then took it away, draping it over the edge of the trashcan beside her bed.
She turned to her back and stared at the two of them—Nick sitting beside her on the bed, a tender expression on his face, and Brock standing behind him, satisfaction stamped on his face and blazing from his eyes. His gaze traveled the length of her body, and she resisted the urge to squirm. From his heated expression she could tell he liked what he saw.
Nick leaned down and covered her mouth with his. His tongue swept between her lips, surging with hot lust. As sated as she was, she felt her body quicken with renewed arousal. Just as Brock came down onto the bed beside her, the door to the bedroom slammed open an
d a strong breeze swept into the room.
Jessica gasped and shoved at Nick. He rolled off her and to his feet in one smooth move, facing the door with a startled, “What the..."
"It's Papaw!” Jessica grabbed her bra and struggled into it, then shoved her feet into the opening of her thong panties, cursing when the thong got caught between her toes. She lifted her foot and repositioned it, and finally dragged the panties up over her hips. “You need to go. I don't think he wants you here."
Brock snorted. “Not that I believe it, but if he were here, you think he'd wait until we were finished to let us know he wasn't happy?"
He had a point. But as the wind picked up, fluttering the curtains by the window and blowing her hair back, she panicked. “Would you two get dressed and get out of here?” She bent and picked up a pair of jeans and tossed them to Brock, then did the same to Nick.
"These aren't mine.” Nick stood there, one hand on his hip, the other holding the denim in front of him. “Besides, where's my underwear?"
"Aargh! Forget about your underwear.” Jessica snatched them out of his hand and stomped over to Brock. She took the jeans he held and gave him the pair in her hand, and tossed the other pair to Nick. “There. Now get dressed."
A small figurine on the dresser toppled over, landing on the rug with a soft thud, but not breaking. It was a ballerina her grandfather had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Just another sign that the presence in the room was him. “Would you please get dressed!"
Dark eyebrows rose over identical pairs of eyes, but they obediently pulled their jeans on. She grabbed up their shirts and threw them toward the two men. Nick snatched his out of the air before it smacked him in the face. He started with another, “This isn't mi—"
"I. Don't. Care.” She started toward the door. “Just put it on and get your shoes."
The door creaked, then slammed shut. She hurried over and grabbed the knob, twisting it and trying to yank the door open, but it wouldn't budge.
"Seems like your granddaddy does want us here after all, darlin'.” Brock came up behind her and gently pried her fingers away from the knob. “Easy, Jessie."
"Don't talk to me like I'm some sort of fractious filly."
"Then stop acting like one.” Brock wrapped his arms around her and gave her a light hug. “Why are you so fired up? It was just the wind."
"It was not just the wind. It was Papaw.” Seeing both men's skeptical looks, she eased out of Brock's arms. “Fine. Then you try to open the door."
First Brock and then Nick tried, with no success.
Finally Nick stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck. Looking at Jessica, he said, “Well, it is an old house. I'm sure doors around here stick all the time."
"Sure they do, when the humidity's up. But not when it's dry, like now.” Jessica went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans. She pulled them on and fastened the top tab. When she sucked in her gut and pushed her bottom out a little to pull up the zipper, she heard low moans come from both men. She looked at them with a frown. Twin erections grew beneath their denims. “Can't you two think of anything besides sex?"
"Nope.” Nick grinned. “Especially around you, sweetheart."
"You got that right.” Brock's voice was a deep rasp. “And now that it looks like we have your granddaddy's approval..."
She swung around to fully face them. Identical grins flashed white in their tanned faces. “It's not funny,” she muttered. Irritation—irrational but undeniable—flared inside her. “He's never done that before. Something's not right."
Brock's face sobered, as did Nick's, though the twinkle remained in Nick's eyes.
"Calm down, darlin',” Brock said and walked over to her. He curved one hand around her nape and stroked his fingers against her skin. “Why are you so upset?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you regretting what just happened?"
Jessica blinked at him. Why would he think ... She frowned. She had pretty much tossed their clothes at them and told them to leave. And if they didn't believe her grandfather's ghost was real—which it appeared they didn't, and it also appeared Papaw had simmered down—then she could understand why he would think she regretted their lovemaking.
"No,” she said softly, cupping her hand around his where it rested against the back of her neck. She looked from him to Nick, wanting both of them to understand how much it had meant to her. “I don't regret a second of it. Even if it won't last."
* * * *
Nick's gut churned. He felt the same alarm flare in Brock. What the hell did she mean, even if it won't last? “Why wouldn't it last?” Nick asked, keeping his voice quiet with an effort.
Her dark eyes rounded and she looked from him to Brock, and back again. “You can't mean...” She tilted her head to one side. “How can all three of us be together? What would people say?"
"Who gives a fuck?” His hand still cupped at the base of her skull, Brock gave her a little shake. “This is between you, me, and Nick. No one else."
Nick shook his head. Just like his twin, full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. And the consequences. Before Nick could jump in, Jessica jerked away from Brock, frowning.
"I can't do something that will embarrass or shame my grandmother. Having a ... a fling is one thing, but making it long-term?” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don't think I can do that.” Her dark eyes searched their faces. “As much as I want to."
"Brock and I have always known we couldn't have a conventional relationship with a wife,” Nick murmured. He went over to her and pulled her into a loose embrace. She sighed and leaned against him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. He linked his fingers at the small of her back. “We feel each other's emotions too keenly. Feel the physical sensations the other one does.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head and drew in a breath, holding her fresh, floral scent in his lungs. “We always figured whoever we fell in love with would marry one of us for the sake of appearance, but we'd have a true ménage a trois relationship behind closed doors."
"But that's not fair to whoever doesn't get married.” Jessica lifted her head and stared at him. “You wouldn't be able to show affection in public, would have to stay in the background all the time..."
"Which is fine by me.” Brock stepped up behind her. Bending his head, he pressed a kiss against the side of her throat. “No one would be surprised that I don't get married—I'm too much of a lone wolf. Besides, I'd know what was going on in the bedroom. That's enough. I also know that I love you, and I want to be with you.” He tilted her head toward him and claimed her mouth with his. He lifted his mouth from hers. “One thing I need to know.” He stared down at her. Nick could feel his twin's escalating tension. “Does my history bother you?"
She frowned. “Your history?” Comprehension lit her eyes, and she touched the tip of her finger to Brock's scar. “You were a kid, Brock. How could I hold that against you?"
Brock's smile was quick and filled with relief. He hauled her close again and slanted his mouth over hers. When he let go of her, Nick nudged her face around and kissed her. After long moments, he lifted his head to say in ragged tones, “I love you, too. That means we're getting married.” He wasn't asking, because she was just contrary enough to say no.
Her eyes glistened with tears. “Oh, my God. I never thought you two would...” She glanced back and forth between them. With a sigh she raised her hands and placed her soft palms against their faces. “I love you both. But I just don't know...” She seemed about to say more, but just then the doorknob rattled and the door swung open.
Nick frowned and walked to the door, and peered out into the hallway. It was empty. “Mrs. Norton?"
"That wasn't Nana,” Jessica said from behind him. She slipped around him and started down the hall toward the stairs.
He and Brock followed her.
"I know you don't believe me, but that was Papaw.” She stopped at the end of the hallway and picked up the telephone that rested on a small table beneath t
he window. She gave them a glance that held a mixture of resignation at their skepticism and a small measure of hurt that they didn't accept what she said. “Something's going on and he wants me to know."
"It's not that we don't believe you,” Nick began, but Brock cut him off.
"We don't believe in the paranormal, darlin'. Nothing against you."
She snorted and used the old-time dialer on the rotary phone. “Well, whether you believe it or not doesn't change the fact that it's real.” When Brock started to respond, she held up one hand and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Mrs. Hornby? It's Jessie Norton. Is my grandmother there?"
Nick was watching Jessica very closely and saw her stop breathing. Her face paled and she reached out one hand. He clasped it while at the same time Brock put an arm around her waist.
"N-no, that's all right. Thank you.” Jessica dropped the phone into the cradle and dazed and fearful eyes. “Nana had some sort of episode at Mrs. Hornby's. The ambulance just left."
Without a word, Brock moved away, back toward the bedroom. “Let's get our shoes and go."
Nick held Jessica's hand as they went into the room. She looked so white, so scared, it damn near broke his heart.
And he was powerless to do anything about it.
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CHAPTER 10
Ten hours later, Jessica sat beside her grandmother's hospital bed and held the older woman's frail hand. Nana was resting from what the doctor had called a mild myocardial infarction. She'd been given drugs to dilate the blood vessels and the doctor had talked about surgery, but had said he'd know more in the morning. In the meantime, Jessica wasn't about to budge, even though visiting hours were long over.
With the two Phillips boys at her back, being alternately charming and intimidating, the hospital staff had backed down and let them all stay.
Brock rested in the empty bed beside Nana while Nick was slouched in the other chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, fingers clasped over his lean stomach. Every once in a while she'd feel someone watching her, and she'd look up from Nana to find one—sometimes both—of the men had their eyes open, staring at her with concern.
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