by Bella Grace
She cupped the looser skin below his cock in one hand and felt the sac draw tighter. Two balls seemed to swell in her palm. She gave his cock a long, slow lick from base to tip before opening her mouth to take him in.
Aaron eased her head back against the settee and guided himself inside her mouth. His hips began to moved, pumping his shaft into her again and again. She relaxed her lips and tongue giving him a soft, wet place to land as his rhythm quickened and he continued to move into her.
Jack swore once before shoving her legs apart and devouring her again. Both men moved quickly this time as if a new level of desperation had been reached. Olivia gripped Aaron’s thighs as Jack’s tongue focused on the opening of her vagina. He licked the sensitive edge of the hole, pressing the tip of his tongue into her again and again. She spread her legs, silently begging for more. She wanted his tongue and then his cock as deep into her as they could go. But no matter how hard she pumped her hips or how desperate her moans and breaths came, they both continued to deliver the same wicked torture.
Just as Olivia was certain she couldn’t survive another second without one of them deep inside her, Aaron slapped his palm against the settee and pumped his cock deep into her mouth. He shouted his release as it poured down her throat.
In the moments that followed as both men lay breathless beside her, she stared up at the ceiling. “Please tell me we aren’t finished.”
Chapter 5
Olivia’s Journal, January 3, 1865
Port Steele, Washington Territory
I am a ruined woman. And I’ve never been filled with such joy in my life. Every muscle in my body is singing with ecstasy. My abdomen is aching from exertion, but the pain only brings a smile of remembrance to my lips. My arm is bruised from the pinches I’ve given it this morning to be sure it isn’t all but a dream. I am head over heels in love, so delusional by the glory of it all that I can’t even bring myself to consider the repercussions. I’ve given my heart to not one man but two, sealing my fate to never marry, for I could never vow my love to one and not the other. Should either of them not be in my life, my heart would ache with emptiness, and my body would yearn for the bliss it now knows.
* * * *
In Lizzie’s dining room, Olivia stared down at her breakfast plate and caressed the book in her lap that Jack had loaned her. The rough edges of the leather spine danced beneath her fingertips as her mind relived every moment of the night before. One after the other, they taught her to bring them to orgasm with her mouth while she was receiving pleasure of her own. She put a hand in her lap and pressed hard against the tremors that shot between her legs when she remembered the sensations of their intimate kisses.
She had been so flushed with exertion, Jack and Aaron had lain with her in the large four-poster bed near the warmth and crackle of the fireplace while she rested and composed herself enough for the trip back to the Gallaghers’. For nearly two hours, she had felt the comfort of being snuggled between them as they shared tales of their travels, debated over their favorite authors, and told her of the early days in Port Steele before the mercantile and inn had been built.
Saying goodnight had nearly ripped her heart out, and it took all of her self control to sit between them on the ride home as if they had merely been attending to library matters all evening. They walked her to Lizzie’s door at a perfectly indecent hour and spoke only of the library as they said their goodnights.
“You haven’t taken a bite.” Amelia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Surely you’re not pining for your dear library after spending all evening working your fingers to the bone.”
Olivia let the book rest in her lap and picked up her fork. She poked her egg then lay the fork down again. “I’ve simply too much on my mind to eat. There’s so much to do. If I got started right away, it would take weeks.”
Amelia arched an eyebrow and lifted her tea cup. “Weeks of working at all hours of impropriety with two men who have made arrangements to court you?”
Olivia narrowed her eyes at her sister. “You know about that?”
Amelia leaned close. “Which shall it be? Mr. Bartlett and his wicked tongue or Mr. Lambert with hardly a tongue at all?”
“I assure you Mr. Lambert has a perfectly acceptable tongue.” She blushed as another tingle of remembrance danced between her legs. “And I would prefer to keep these matters of courtship within the household. It would seem inappropriate for me to be about town with both of them at once, but the library may demand exactly that at times.”
“And the library shall also demand that you race home like Cinderella?”
“Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Lambert are extremely busy men. Library matters will sometimes have to be addressed at their convenience, whatever the hour. I truly don’t mind.”
Amelia laughed. “I’m certain you don’t. And how is it again you know so much of Mr. Lambert’s tongue?”
Olivia swatted her arm. “How is it your tongue has not been fed to kittens yet? Your friendship with Hattie Red has ruined you thoroughly.”
Lizzie walked into the breakfast room, her skirts sweeping the floor, and took her seat at the table. “Speaking of Hattie, we are expected at the inn this morning to help her prepare for the first round of baby showers.”
“I had forgotten.” Disappointment flooded Olivia. She had hoped to spend as much time as possible making a list of items she would need for the library and sketching a layout for the bookshelves and desks that Jack could give to his carpenter.
Amelia leaned close. “Perhaps you should speak with Hattie yourself. She can teach you how to have a wicked tongue of your own.”
Heat prickled Olivia’s cheeks and neck. “What on earth has that woman told you!” She fanned herself, only half as aghast as she pretended to be. If Hattie could help her keep her men intrigued, perhaps she would be wise to find out what those techniques were.
Lizzie studied both of them over the rim of her cup. “Hattie is a wonderfully insightful woman, and the morals here are not what we’re accustomed to back East, but I would advise you both to find a husband before you try too many of Hattie’s…” She quirked her brow. “Secrets of the trade.”
Amelia giggled, and Olivia felt her face turn crimson.
“Is that how you keep Logan so smitten?” Amelia smiled broadly. “Have you gone to Hattie’s school of debauchery?”
Lizzie smiled. “You would be wise to please your husband in bed, and you would be wiser to keep the men who court you wanting.” She set her cup down. “Now, if you’re both ready, we should be on our way.”
They had barely stood from the table when a knock sounded at the door. Logan, Gage, Andrew, and Noah had been at work for hours. Lizzie stiffened and, in a voice she’d used to order them around since she they were children, she said, “If it is Uncle Robert, go to your rooms and lock the doors. Do not come out until I tell you to myself.”
She picked up her skirts and hurried to the window, barely making a sound. Olivia let her eyes drift to the poker near the fireplace. Amelia nudged her shoulder. Olivia looked at the small revolver in her sister’s outstretched hand and her mouth flew open.
“Where did you get that?” She whispered.
“Hattie,” Amelia mouthed back.
Olivia pressed her hand to her chest. Had it really come to this? Were they arming themselves for protection from their own flesh and blood? She closed her eyes at the pain that followed. The brutal murder of their parents remained unsolved, but in her heart she knew who was responsible. Even if he had not pulled the trigger himself, no one else had anything to gain from their deaths.
Lizzie stepped back from the window and opened the door. Constance Kendall stepped inside and quickly began untying the hat strap beneath her chin. Olivia waved at Amelia to put the weapon away and released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Constance directed a tight smile at Lizzie but quickly locked eyes with Olivia. “Let’s not pretend this is a social call. Although I will take a c
up of tea to shake off this horrid chill.”
“Amelia, would you please offer Connie a cup of tea?” Lizzie closed the door and took the hat and overcoat Constance held out to her.
Constance seated herself next to the fireplace and crossed her hands in her lap. Amelia carried a tea tray over and set it down unceremoniously on the small table next to their uninvited guest. Connie took a look at the tea service and turned up her nose. She moved the cup aside and turned up the saucer to read the imprint on the bottom. “When I marry, I’ll be certain my husband can afford the expense of decent china.”
Lizzie sat down in the chair across from her. “Not every eye has been trained in the value of antiquities, so you have no reason to be embarrassed of your ignorance.”
Constance narrowed her eyes and turned away from the tea without serving herself. “I’ve come to let you know, Olivia, that I will be volunteering my time in the library. I have already spoken with Mr. Lambert, and he said that you would be appreciative of the assistance.”
Olivia tensed. She wasn’t sure which bothered her more, the fact that Constance obviously had something up her velvet sleeve or that the conniving wench had called on Aaron. “That’s very generous of you, Connie. I will have the library ready in few weeks, and I will be happy to work out a schedule for you then.”
“Don’t be silly, Olivia. I told Mr. Lambert I would start immediately. He’s expecting me this very afternoon.” She waved a dismissive hand. “After we are done with this bore of a baby shower.”
Olivia bit her tongue to keep from verbally pinning Constance to the wall and getting to the bottom of her scheme. Perhaps it would be better to play along for a little while, just long enough to discover the true motive and quash it effectively.
Amelia eased into the chair next to Constance and stared at her wide-eyed with pure innocence painted on her face. “Oh, Connie, you poor dear, you do realize you’ll be subjecting yourself to more ridicule by that razor-tongued brute, Mr. Bartlett. I really don’t know how you could put yourself through such an ordeal again. The other evening must have been dreadfully humiliating for you.”
Constance’s cheeks reddened, but she smiled serenely. “Sweet Amelia, I will simply ignore that horrible man. I pity the woman who ends up betrothed to him.” She gathered her skirts and rose from her seat. “I should be going. I need to stop by the mercantile on my way back. I was so excited about the library I completely forgot to ask Mr. Lambert about ordering a corset, and I’m afraid I’ll need to be measured.”
Olivia clamped her mouth tight and fisted her hands in her skirt. She said nothing as Constance donned her hat and coat and Lizzie closed the door behind her.
“So she’s found out the Gallaghers have agreed to allow Mr. Lambert and Mr. Bartlett court you.” Lizzie shook her head. “She certainly plans to use the proximity of the library to focus her attentions solely on Mr. Lambert given her slim chances of winning Mr. Bartlett’s affections.” Lizzie looked at Olivia sternly. “Olivia, dear, there’s no need for you to worry about her ploy. I’m certain she has little likelihood of seducing Mr. Lambert while he harbors an interest in you. Any man who succumbs to her charms would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb. And Mr. Lambert appears to have none of those shortcomings.”
Olivia’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t marry both Jack and Aaron. If she were to marry at all, she would have to choose one. If Constance married Aaron and she married Jack, she would be living next to that scheming woman in the apartments over the mercantile. Not only that, but she would die of jealousy the first time she watched Aaron escort Constance up that staircase at the back of the store.
Amelia carried the tea service to the table and began clearing the breakfast dishes. “Of course she would set her sights on Mr. Lambert. Mr. Bartlett has proven to be a tougher target.” She put her hands on her hips. “That leaves only one thing for you to do, Liv. Marry Mr. Lambert and his perfectly acceptable tongue.”
* * * *
The aging innkeeper’s voluptuous bosoms spilled from her yellow silk dress, and the bright fabric appeared even louder next to her loosely-pinned red curls. Hattie’s arm was like a pillow beneath Olivia’s hand, and her perfume hung heavily around her. The innkeeper had hooked the arms of Olivia and Amelia the minute they hung their coats inside her door and quickly steered them to the back of her establishment. She ensured their privacy by asking Lizzie to supervise the presentation of the sweets that were to be served.
“Since when do you care how food is arranged on a platter?” Olivia asked. “What is this that Lizzie can’t hear?”
Hattie pursed her red lips together and shook her head, she refused to say a word until she opened the door to her private parlor, ushered the girls in, and then closed the door behind them.
“You have the revolver I gave you?” Hattie asked.
Amelia released a heavy sigh. “I almost used it on Constance this morning.”
Hattie chuckled hard enough to shake her breasts. “I’ve been tempted myself.” She crossed the room and poured whiskey into a cut crystal glass. “Your uncle played poker at the saloon last night. He didn’t care much for my pair of Jacks or for the heel of my boot when he put his fat hand on my backside.” She drained a good portion of the whiskey and set the glass down with a thud. “Here’s what you girls need to know. I’ve already told Logan, but he’s made me swear not to say a word to Lizzie. He said she’s worried sick about the two of you as it is. Your uncle got into a discussion with Miles Petty. Shortly after I got home, Miles showed up here and spoke with Constance. This morning she rushed out before breakfast and made a beeline for the mercantile.”
“Perhaps marriage to Aaron isn’t on her mind. Perhaps she’s working on a scheme with Miles instead.” Olivia allowed herself a tendril of relief despite the reminder that her uncle was too close for comfort.
Hattie snorted. “She will marry the first fat purse she can seduce, and Miles will help her do it.”
“Why would Miles Petty send her to Mr. Lambert?” Amelia asked. “Miles has been almost scandalous with her since we stepped off the dock.”
“Miles doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t think will make his money clip fatter. A wife tends to have the opposite effect on a man’s assets. He has no intention of marrying Constance.” Hattie pointed a finger at Olivia. “Watch her like a hawk while you’re over at the mercantile. Whatever she and Miles have going on, your uncle’s got his hands in it. If you didn’t have Jack and Aaron to protect you, I’d give you a gun, too.”
“I suppose we should help Lizzie with the party preparation.” Amelia hugged Hattie and whispered something in her ear that Olivia couldn’t hear. Hattie’s chest shook with laughter.
Olivia started to follow Amelia out the door, but Hattie caught her arm again. As Amelia sailed out of the room, Hattie said, “I hear you want a few lessons in lovemaking.”
The fire of embarrassment spread across Olivia’s face and down her chest. “I…I…” She ducked her head and closed her eyes. Her ears might burn clear off her head, but if she lost this opportunity to learn how to give her men more than they expected, she knew she would never have the nerve to ask Hattie again. She didn’t trust her voice, so she simply nodded.
Hattie shut the door again and walked back to her whiskey bottle. She poured another glass and slipped it into Olivia’s hand. “Drink up, dear. I’m about to tell you what every man wishes his wife knew.”
Chapter 6
Olivia’s Journal, January 4, 1865
Port Steele, Washington Territory
I can’t be sure which was yesterday’s bigger irritation, the lack of help Constance proved to be in the library or the way she kept finding excuses to interrupt Aaron from his bookkeeping with her overt flirtations. I received my just rewards when my dear Mr. Lambert came to escort me home and asked if he could call on me tonight while Jack took care of a business matter in Seattle. Constance looked as if she might skin him alive. She drew her skirts up in a huff and st
omped unescorted across the street to the inn, nearly burying her ankles in mud as she went. If Amelia had been there to see it, she wouldn’t have been able to contain her laughter, and I would have certainly lost my composure as well. Unfortunately, I’m afraid this will only make matters worse for me if I can’t marry Mr. Lambert, and he chooses Constance to be his wife. As much as I adore Aaron, I can’t imagine not marrying Jack. And likewise, as much as I would love to be Jack’s wife, I can’t imagine not marrying Aaron. Eventually I will have to choose one, or more likely, bid farewell to them both because I simply cannot make a choice that would rip my heart apart so completely. Perhaps it is my fate to create a treasury of memories to carry forever in my heart after my time with them has ended.
* * * *
“Take your seat, Mr. Lambert.” Olivia circled Aaron, looking through the glasses that had slipped low on her nose. She let her hands glide across his shoulders as she walked slowly behind the armless chair she had placed in the center of the room facing away from the door. When she came around to the front again, she lifted his chin in her hand. “You’ve been naughty, and you must be punished.”
Aaron swallowed hard. His chest heaved beneath his starched white work shirt. “Yes, ma’am. I have. I’ve been thinking of nothing but how to undress you all evening.”
Olivia leaned close to his ear and lowered her voice. “I know just how to manage terribly naughty men like you.” She let the tip of her tongue slip out and just barely graze his earlobe.
He groaned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled at his response and bit her lip. She had never realized men would enjoy such games or that she could possibly hold so much sexual power over such an intelligent, successful man as the one who sat awaiting her instruction. Her breasts ached for his attention and she wanted more than anything to sit on his lap and let him kiss her breathless, but the anticipation that had begun to build inside her was satisfying in an oddly indefinable way, and she wanted to see how long he would allow her complete control.