Grace, Bella - The Husband Contract [Brides of Bachelor Bay 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Bella Grace

  Jack broke the kiss, breathing heavy. “Relax. Get used to the new sensation, and when you’re ready to have me inside you, too, all you have to do is say the word.” He lifted his hips, sliding his cock further between her slick, swollen nether lips, making his intention clear.

  She gasped as he nudged her clit, and Aaron began another deep, stroke into her bottom. “Now. I want you now.” She wanted nothing more than to have them both deep inside her at the same time. These men she couldn’t choose between, these men she wanted equally. She wanted them both, now. All the time.

  Jack guided his big cock into her, giving her a moment to adjust to the double penetration before he began to move. Aaron stilled too. And then in unison they began to withdraw. Within a couple of strokes they found a rhythm that had her crying out with each entry and moaning for more with each withdrawal.

  The room filled with her cries and theirs. Their lovemaking had never been so vocal, so intense. She had never felt so intimately connected to both of them. Her nipples burrowed into the wiry hair of Jack’s chest, and the back of her thighs tingled from the soft abrasion of Aaron’s hairy legs. She loved the contrast of her feminine body and their masculine features. And with both of them moving with her at once, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that wasn’t attended to.

  As an orgasm began to build in her belly, her heart lurched. She fought against the squeeze of pain in her chest, but there was no way she could fend off the heartbreak that would follow. As much as she loved these men and as unforgettable as these nights in their bed would be, she knew their time together would soon end.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as the orgasm tore through her body with an intensity she’d yet to experience. She savored every stroke, every breath, every swirling wave of pleasure. Then she collapsed onto Jack’s chest and did her best to disguise her sobs as grateful, heavy breaths.

  “Olivia?” Both men spoke her name in unison.

  Jack lifted her face from his chest, and Aaron leaned close to her shoulder. “What’s wrong, love? Did we hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “I…” She couldn’t tell them the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “I’ve never felt such love, and I fear its end will come.”

  Aaron planted gentle kisses on her shoulder, and Jack pressed his lips into her hair.

  “Sweetheart,” Jack whispered, “We are only just beginning.”

  Aaron nodded in agreement.

  They held her between their hulking, warm bodies and made her promises she knew she would not allow either of them to keep.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia’s Journal, January 6, 1865

  Port Steele, Washington Territory

  My heart is torn to pieces, but I have no choice. Picking either Aaron or Jack to become my husband would be like choosing which of my eyes to blind. If either were not a part of me, I could never recover from the loss. The presence of one wouldn’t make me more whole than the presence of the other. I sealed my fate the day I fell in love with two men. I will not choose between them, and I cannot stay here in Port Steele and watch either of the men I love marry another. After giving my heart so thoroughly to both, I am certain I will never find such love again. I do not care to look for it. If I am ever to marry, the marriage would be but a cage, and I would be the bird within, never to soar again. It would be selfish of me to allow Amelia to return with Uncle Robert. I will go in her place. For no matter whom I am forced to marry, I will not be able to give him a heart I no longer own. My dear sister may still find a love that she can hold on to. I just wish I could come up with a plan that didn’t require me to sacrifice my integrity.

  * * * *

  Olivia paused with her hand against the door of the saloon. The deed to their home in Boston shifted beneath her corset. Her hands still trembled from the theft of it. She had never stolen anything in her life, and Lizzie was the last person she would ever steal from. Guilt weighed down her shoulders. Lizzie had done everything she could to protect them from their uncle’s wrath, but she was their sister, not their keeper. Lizzie had gotten them out of Boston, and she had found a place where they could leave the bad memories behind and begin afresh. Now their uncle wanted to steal that opportunity from Amelia, and it was Olivia’s turn to carry the burden as Lizzie had.

  A roar of male voices sounded from within the saloon, and Olivia checked the streets behind her. She had never been about in Port Steele unescorted before. Even with the women Gallagher Lumber had provided to the town, the male population far exceeded the number of females. The majority of men here were massive in stature and rough-natured, definitely not the company a lady would wander the streets alone with. Lizzie would not approve of her outing, especially with Robert Prescott present. Jack and Aaron would not approve either. Her heart squeezed, knowing she would disappoint them both. She fought back the sadness. How could she have fallen so completely in love with two men? It was too late to ponder the question. No answer would cause her to abandon the love of either of them. She would hold it in her heart forever.

  She pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit drinking establishment. Men sat around a table in the back holding cards in their hands and cigars between their lips. Several of them looked her way and then quickly back to the cards they held. A few muttered unpleasantries that made her stand a little straighter and suck in a sharp breath.

  In the far corner, Robert Prescott sat with his back to the door. Across from him, Miles Petty studied Olivia for a long minute before saying something she couldn’t hear but that made her uncle turn around in his seat.

  Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat and started toward their table. Behind the bar, a man in his shirtsleeves mopped a glass with a cloth. “We don’t allow ladies in here.”

  Olivia lifted her chin. Hattie frequented the saloon, but apparently no one expected Hattie to follow the same constrictions as the women from Boston. “I’ve business with my uncle. I’ll only be a moment.”

  Miles nodded to the bartender. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

  The bartender set his glass down and picked up another. He didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t argue further.

  Olivia stopped just beyond her uncle’s reach. “I need a moment with you privately.”

  Without standing, Robert Prescott pulled out the seat next to him. “Miles is aware of our little predicament. You can speak freely in front of him.”

  Olivia remained standing. “I have the documents you want, and I will give them to you with one concession.”

  “You’re not in much of a position for bargaining.” He raked his fat fingers along his cheek and narrowed his eyes. “What type of concession are you asking for?”

  “You must take me back to Boston instead of Amelia.”

  “I’ve found a suitor for Amelia. I don’t think you’ll suit his requirements.” He dragged his eyes from her face to her boots and back up again, pausing on her chest for emphasis.

  “You will take me, or you will not get the deed.”

  “Elizabeth will not risk the consequence of withholding the deed from me.”

  “Lizzie no longer has the deed. And you will either meet my concessions or sail back to Boston empty-handed.” Her voice didn’t waver, but her insides rattled like the maracas they sold near the train depot in Mexico. She had been tempted to purchase one before they boarded the train that would carry them across South America and to the ship they had to catch to make their voyage up the western coast to Port Steele.

  Robert Prescott leaned back in his chair and grabbed his lapels in his beefy hands. “I understand you have suitors here. What makes you so eager to leave?”

  “My sister’s protection is more important to me than my own future.”

  Miles leaned forward. “Consider her offer. Keeping her sister here for me to look after,” he paused to raise his brows and give Robert a knowing look, “might sweeten our deal a little.”

  Olivia narrowed her eyes at him, but kept a tone of sug
ar and innocence in her voice. “What sort of deal could Amelia possibly be helpful for?”

  Robert Prescott’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. His round frame completely blocked Miles from Olivia’s view. “A tavern is no place for a lady such as yourself.” The sneer on his face, implicated his lack of sincerity. “I’ll escort you home.”

  “I shall be safer on my own.” She gathered her skirts. “I trust we have a deal.”

  “If you hand over the deed, you can board the ship in Amelia’s place. If you try any tomfoolery…” He leaned close enough she had to catch her breath to ward off the stench of him. “Your dear Lizzie will say her goodbyes to both of you from your gravesides.”

  * * * *

  “Hurry before Lizzie wakes.” Olivia piled another armload of her belongings into the small trunk that lay open on her bed.

  The midnight moon played peek-a-boo through the window as clouds sailed across the sky. The wind howled and rustled the tops of the tall timbers surrounding the house. Lizzie and Logan had gone to bed early with that look they got in their eyes sometimes that made Olivia believe every fairytale she’d ever read. Gage had said his goodnights only minutes later, and both of the master bedroom doors at the end of the hall closed for the night.

  As of late, Lizzie had developed a habit of slipping out of her room in the wee hours of morning to make a cup of tea and sit by the fire. It was the same habit she’d gotten into just before they left Boston. In Boston, Olivia had caught her next to the fire holding an advertisement for brides that the Gallaghers had posted in the local paper. Lately, she had been sipping her late night tea with a fire poker in her free hand. Olivia knew what was weighing on her sister’s mind, but this time, Lizzie wouldn’t have to find the solution for them. In a few short hours, Amelia and Lizzie would be free of their uncle’s demands.

  Amelia swiped at the tears pouring down her cheeks and placed a silver brush set in one corner of the trunk. She grabbed Olivia’s wrist just as Olivia turned away to pick up the folded petticoats from the bench at the foot of her bed. “You can’t do this, Liv. There has to be another way.”

  Olivia shook her head. “This is as much for me as it is for you. I’ve told you I can’t choose a husband after falling in love with both of them, and I can’t live with the heartbreak of seeing the men I love married to other women for the rest of my life. I must leave here, and if I go in this manner, you will be free to marry whomever you choose.” She pulled Amelia in for a hug and rubbed a slow circle on her sister’s back. “Trust me, this is best for both of us.”

  Chapter 9

  Olivia’s Journal, January 7, 1865

  Port Steele, Washington Territory

  My hands tremble as I write this. I’m afraid this entry will not even be legible by the light of day, but I must pass the time, or the minutes that drag on will draw the very breath from me, and I will be too dead to save Amelia from the unfortunate marriage that awaits her in Boston. There is nothing to do now but wait for our wretched uncle to arrive. Lizzie woke as she has been doing, so Amelia was forced to dry her eyes and go sit with her so that she may cause a distraction if my escape fails to be as stealthy as I’ve planned it to be. Logan, Gage, Andrew, and Noah will all leave for the lumber yard a couple of hours before sunrise. The plan is to give the men a half hour to make their way away from the house, and then I will slip out my window. When I miss breakfast Amelia will assure Lizzie it is nothing more than a headache I complained of before bed that is keeping me in my room. By the time Lizzie becomes concerned enough to discover I’m not in my room, the ship will be setting off across the bay. It hurts not to be able to say goodbye to my dear sister, Lizzie, and my loves Jack and Aaron, but it is the only way.

  * * * *

  Two burly men hefted Olivia’s trunk from the back of the wagon. In the pre-dawn darkness, she could just make out the scar that ran along the smaller man’s jaw and the scent of stale whiskey mixed with the salty air that blew off the bay.

  At the end of the pier, a large ship sat unmoving as small white caps broke across its hull and rolled toward the shore. Bachelor Bay was as dark as the sky above it, and Olivia’s stomach turned as she remembered the sway of the ocean on her passage from back East. But seasickness would be easier to handle than the pain in her heart. She glanced back at the row of businesses lining the main street of Port Steele. Her gaze came to rest on the mercantile, and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears.

  Robert Prescott grabbed her elbow and gave her a firm yank. She pulled her bonnet forward to hide her face from anyone they might pass as they made their way toward the ship. The shadows of crates and pilings crept across the dock like the pudgy fingers of death. She glanced down at her uncle’s fat fingers wrapped around her elbow and knew her life was over. She had handed her soul to the devil, and every step she took landed a little closer to hell. The boardwalk cracked and groaned beneath their feet, and the cold breeze off the water prickled the skin on the back of her neck.

  Her heart ached for everyone she was leaving behind and for the love of two men she would never know again. If the ship sank to the bottom of the ocean, she doubted the cold water could drown her pain.

  At the end of the dock, Olivia lifted her skirts and ascended the ship’s ramp. She dared not look back toward the row of businesses along the main street a second time. The hollow pain in her chest weighed more than the crates being shoved up ramps by the burly dock crew. Fog had begun rolling in off the water, thick and gray, cold and wet against her skin. The fog enveloped everything around her like an omen of what was to come. She let the damp chill seep into her bones and held it inside like a blockade against the warmth of false hopes. She could only pray that not only would Amelia be spared a marriage that was not of her choosing, but that she would find a husband that she could love. Olivia would find her contentment in her sisters’ happiness and whatever distractions she could find to occupy her time in Boston. Joy of the heart was not meant to be hers.

  * * * *

  Jack cupped his morning coffee in his hand and let the warmth of the mug ease the chill from his bones. He glanced back toward the open door of his bedroom and grunted at the memory of waking up to an empty bed. The time had come to put an end to the nonsense. He and Aaron would have Olivia choose between them at dinner. Warmth spread through his chest. He would do anything to make her his, to love and care for her for the rest of his life. And he knew Aaron felt the same.

  Rapid pounding landed against the door to the mercantile, rattling the windows. Aaron’s footsteps fell on the landing between their rooms and moved quickly down the stairs. Jack set his cup down and hurried to follow.

  Aaron twisted the key in the lock just as Jack came to a stop at his side.

  “Ladies, what can we do for you?” Jack tugged the bottom of his vest. He’d left his coat upstairs, and Aaron stood next to him, similarly dressed.

  “I’ve sent for Logan and Gage, but I fear they won’t make it to the dock before the ship sails.” Lizzie Gallagher’s flushed face stared up at him. Her hands fisted at her sides. “We have to get her off that ship!”

  Aaron stepped forward, taking Amelia by the hand and gently helping her inside. “You mean Olivia, I presume?”

  At the mention of Olivia’s name, the look on Lizzie Gallagher’s face spoke more loudly than it had before. Jack’s gut twisted. He took Lizzie by the arm. “Tell us what has happened on the way to the dock.”

  He kept his long strides under control as best he could, knowing the women were practically jogging to keep up, but if Olivia was on a ship that was about to set sail, he wasn’t about to waste a minute getting her off it.

  “What makes you think she’s on the ship?” Aaron’s voice was strained, and Jack knew he was having just as hard a time with the pace they were making toward the dock.

  The sound of the ship’s engines roared in Jack’s ears, and his heart pounded in his chest. Would she run away from them without saying goodbye?

  Li
zzie stopped and bent over double. Jack had to force himself not to throw her over his shoulder and run the rest of the way to the dock. She put her hand up to catch him by the arm as if he might try to leave her there on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry,” she said. Behind her, Amelia’s breath came in heavy pants. “We’ve run all the way from our house to the dock where they shooed us away like flies and then to your place. I have to catch my breath.”

  Jack bit back the response on his tongue. “Tell us what we need to know, and Aaron and I will go get her.”

  Lizzie stood. She looked from him to Aaron and squared her shoulders. “I suspect the two of you have been…sharing…my sister.”

  Jack stiffened, but before he could respond, she continued.

  “I understand the dynamics of such a relationship better than you may think. My husbands…” She emphasized the plural and looked to each of them for confirmation. “…and I are well versed in such things, but my sisters have not been aware of the true nature of my marriage. Amelia has just told me Olivia feared she must choose between the two of you. If that is your intent, you have broken her heart. If that is not your intent, you have not been clear with her, and now she has climbed aboard the ship with our uncle to marry some horrid creature in Boston as a repayment for our uncle’s debt. She sacrificed herself in place of Amelia because she couldn’t bear the thought of living without the both of you.”

  Jack murmured a swear and took off for the dock, leaving the women standing there. He ran as if the devil were on his heels. How had they not made it clear to her the union of all three of them would be permanent? The only choice she would need to make would be whose name to take and who would serve as her husband on legal documents. Aaron’s footsteps fell close behind his, and both of them doubled their speed as the ship’s engine roared louder and the ship’s horn blasted through the fog.