by Diane Leyne
The four of them talked and all realized just how tempting it would be to Mate with her, so they made a pact. They would take their time, court her individually and in groups, but no sex, not until she was old enough to understand and accept the consequences. Even in Harmony, being with four men would stand out.
Jack chuckled softly to himself remembering the look on Penelope’s face when they told her that eighteen was too young. They loved her, and they would all have a lifetime together. Or maybe not, if she decided that she didn’t want to Mate with them. She was heading off to college, and when she graduated, they’d be waiting, and if she still wanted them, they would be more than happy to claim her, but not a day earlier.
She’d been angry, at first, yelling and even throwing things. Then she’d been seductive, and Jack thought his cock was going to bust his zipper. He’d looked at his brother and cousins and they were in the same condition, but they all held firm, so she went back to angry again.
But in the end, it had been the right decision, even if Penelope, highly motivated, had finished her four-year college program in three years. And so it was that on the day of her twenty-first birthday they claimed her once and for all, or so they thought.
Jack walked to the living room and smiled as Penelope walked through the door. He thought she looked tired and distracted. He walked up to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, careful not to press his hard cock against her. Damn his body. You’d think he hadn’t just jerked off over and over and over.
“Sit down and put your feet up. You can nap if you like. Dinner won’t be ready for an hour.”
“Ready or here?” she teased. “I don’t smell anything cooking.”
Jack blushed. “We tried, we really did. But cooking isn’t exactly our forte.”
“No, fucking is!” Jack turned around quickly ready to lash out at his brother, but then he burst out laughing. John was wearing a Kiss the Cook apron and nothing else, his aroused cock tenting the apron. Walking over to Penelope, John planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss on her mouth and then pushed her toward the bedroom.
“Nap now. Eat in an hour. Kiss the cook afterward.” Then he turned and walked back into the kitchen, his bare butt exposed. Before he disappeared from sight, he turned, shaking a finger and his bare butt at Penelope. “And no ogling my tight butt.”
Penelope laughed. “Maybe a nap is a good idea. Wake me up when the food comes, guys.”
Jack watched her walk slowly up the stairs. There was no doubt about it. Their woman was tired and fading fast.
* * * *
Penelope woke up to the delicious smell of homemade lasagna and garlic bread. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep a wink, but she went out like a light the second her head hit the pillow. She rubbed her eyes and smiled when she realized they’d set up dinner in her bedroom. Wrapping the sheet around her bare breasts, she looked at the feast that they’d set up on the small card table they’d placed near the foot of the bed. There was the lasagna and garlic bread, but there was also a Caesar salad and red wine.
She looked around for her clothes, but there weren’t on the floor by the side of the bed where she’d dropped them. Instead, John walked over, holding her robe. He helped her into it and then tied it snugly around her waist. He had changed as well, no longer wearing his Kiss the Cook apron. Instead he’d changed into his usual off-duty uniform of tight, butt-molding jeans and a snug white tee. Jack, on the other hand, was dressed in a pair of expensive looking chino pants in a light blue twill and a button down shirt that fit like it had been made for him and probably had been.
While John was seating her, Jack was dishing out the food. The next hour passed in a blur as they wined and dined her, and she almost forgot about the cloud hanging over them. For the first time in a long time, they were relaxed together, with no Mating Ceremony hanging over their heads.
She tried to bring it up once, but John had shushed her and Jack changed the subject. Then she mentioned lunch, meaning to ease into her upcoming trip, but they shut her down again. Finally she stopped trying and went with the flow, which lead, of course, back to the master bedroom, but that was the last time either of her wolves did what she expected. In her experience, they were ravenous when they finally got her alone, pouncing on her the moment she walked in the door as if they’d been apart for years instead of days or even just hours.
This time, they took it slow, first taking her to the master bathroom where Jack drew a bubble bath, and then the three of them slid down into the tub, Penelope between then as they carefully soaped and rinsed her body before starting on her hair. When it was well lathered, John reached for the hand shower and carefully rinsed all the soap from her hair before handing her out to Jack, who carefully dried and brushed it. Then he carried her to the bed, laying her on her stomach. Then the two brothers started massaging her, slowly, deeply, each taking a side.
They started with her hands, each one stroking her fingers, and then worked their way up her arms. Then they did her legs and butt. When they got there, she expected them to make a move, sexually. They didn’t, though, frustrating her. They massaged her ass cheeks and then her shoulders, but still no moves. When they had her as limp as a wet noodle, they turned her over and started all over, massaging her arms and legs first before moving higher.
By the time they got to her breasts, Penelope thought she’d go out of her mind with desire. She wanted them so badly. Reaching to the nearest brother, she grabbed John and pulled him up toward her. Jack positioned himself beside her reclining body, and John moved over her, kissing her deeply.
Penelope stirred under him, grabbing his butt, trying to pull him toward her weeping pussy, but he resisted.
“We have all the time in the world, Penelope, and we intend to use it to worship your body the way it was meant to be worshipped. Now stay still or we’ll tie your hands to the bed frame.”
Now that was the John she knew and loved. Moving slowly, he first took her mouth, kissing her deeply again before sliding down her body and kissing and, yes, worshiping her breasts while his brother watched. After what seemed like a lifetime, he positioned himself between her thighs and guided his cock inside her dripping pussy.
Penelope heard herself whimper as he entered her, her pussy clamping down hard on his cock, trying to milk it after only a single stroke. But her resisted, instead setting up a steady rhythm of moving in and out, in and out, driving her crazy as he pushed her arousal higher and higher, but didn’t do any of the things she needed to push her over the edge.
She wanted to touch her clit. She wanted him to touch her clit. She wanted his brother to touch her clit. Please, she just needed a little pressure.
Maybe she said the words out loud because now his hand was down between their bodies and she was flying, bucking in his arms, as her long-denied climax slammed through her.
And then he was gone and Jack was inside her, moving just as deliberately. The frustration was no less this time as Jack, like his brother, refused to rush, making her squirm with frustration as her arousal built, but not enough to come.
An hour later, after both men had made love to her again with the same deliberation, driving her crazy with frustration but ending with explosive orgasms, she lay sated between them, curled into John while Jack spooned her from behind. She knew she should tell them about the trip to Cabo, but they were all in bed and sleepy and she was a coward.
In the end, she decided to put off saying anything until the day before the flight, which would piss off all four men because the next night was supposed to be the night she was with the four of them, but she had to do it. She had to track down this new lead.
Chapter Six
Penelope brought out Oliver’s breakfast. He had come in to eat every morning this week. He was never forward, but his eyes followed her as she waited tables and chatted with the customers. Lena had headed off with her wolves for a month-long vacation, and Oliver was looking after her dog Otis as well as helping out at the cli
nic.
He was always friendly and polite. She half expected him to ask her out, and she had her answer all prepared, but he never did. He had asked her to join him for a coffee the first morning, but when she turned him down, explaining that she was quite busy as it was the morning rush, he accepted her answer without argument and never repeated the request.
He always sat at a table outside so he could have Otis with him. He ordered the same thing each morning, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee, and read the paper. He arrived at eight on the dot and left at eight forty-five. It was only a short walk from the café to the clinic and they usually opened at nine.
Today was Friday, and instead of arriving at eight, he’d arrived at nine, still leading Otis, but instead of the usual, he’d ordered French toast and orange juice. She’d had his order almost ready when the waitress, June, had told him he’d changed his order to pancakes and actually turned down coffee!
Curious and unable to help herself, Penelope brought out Oliver’s order herself. She made idle chitchat for a few minutes, mostly about the weather, before she blurted out her question. She found herself turning red and stammering an apology when she realized what she’d said.
“Pen, don’t worry about it. Why would I be bothered about a question about what I like for breakfast? That’s not a personal question, at least not unless you are naked and in my bed when you are asking it.” He’d laughed loudly when she’d turned even redder at her comment.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but you seemed too nervous about such an innocuous question. Have a seat and keep me company, and I’ll answer that and every other question you have about me.”
Penelope thought for a moment. He was more than a customer. He was a friend of Lena’s, and he’d helped Alex, and he was moving to Harmony. Permanently. He was going to be around town and she would see him regularly, so she needed to get comfortable with him being around. Surely he was a reasonable man. When he realized that she was in a committed relationship, he’d back off. No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t actually made a move. But she knew he was attracted to her, and she, god help her, was attracted to him. Maybe they did need to talk.
Damn, it was herself she had to get under control, or she’d make a fool of herself. She was in a committed relationship. Just because they hadn’t been able to Mate didn’t meant their relationship was any less serious than those who had.
“I’ll be right back.”
She went into the kitchen. No, that wasn’t true. She fled into the kitchen. Then she asked June to look after things so she could take a break. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed some toast and returned to the table and sat down.
* * * *
Oliver watched her retreating back and sighed, fully expecting her not to return, or to return with an excuse why she couldn’t stay. He was pleasantly surprised when she not only sat down at his table, but she’d brought coffee and something to eat with her.
“My mom used to make us pancakes every Friday morning. It was our family tradition, celebrating the end of the work week.”
“Us?”
“Me, my dad, and my sister.”
Younger or order?”
“Three years younger. Sue, Suzanne, Suzy. Our Suzy Q.” Penelope watched Oliver’s expression as he was clearly remembering something special. The sweet smile on his face made her heart clench.
“You were close.”
She watched him reach into his pocket and pull out his cell phone, find the picture he was looking for, and hand it to her. She saw tall, lanky, redheaded Oliver surrounded by a bunch of dark-haired people of average height. She also realized that he looked nothing like anyone in his family.
“Yeah. She was the miracle child, and Mom and Dad and I all worshipped the ground she walked on.”
“My folks thought they couldn’t conceive, so they adopted me when I was a baby. When I was two and a half, Mom became pregnant with Susan. They’d given up hope and had actually been in the process of trying to adopt again when Mom got pregnant. Suzy was our family’s little miracle. She should have been spoiled rotten, but she wasn’t she was kind and sensitive and when we got older, ended up being the one to defend me.”
He saw Penelope’s quizzical expression and explained.
“They all worked hard to make me feel that they loved me the same as Sue, but the rest of the family was more distant. When you are the only human in a family of shifters, you always feel different.”
“They were shape-shifters and they adopted a human?”
“Yeah. Must have been desperate for a kid, right?” He took a sip of orange juice and thought back to the day that he realized that he wasn’t like his cousins. They would play together, the boys shifting into their wolf-dog form, but he couldn’t. He tried and tried and tried. At first they felt sorry for him and tried to help him, but eventually, they wanted to play with their own kind and he couldn’t keep up as they went for runs in their shifted form and he was left behind.
He ended up playing with the girls, because girls didn’t shift. It was fine when he was little, but then as the girls got older and went through their I hate boys phase, they shunned him, too.
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?”
“Not much. My adoptive parents only know what they were told. My biological parents’ names were Joseph and Rose. My mother was an out-of-town student who was attending the local university where she met a boy. Old story. Boy gets girl pregnant and then runs away from his troubles, all way back home to Mexico, or so I’ve been told, not that you can tell by my hair color and complexion. My mom, my real mom, was a professor at the university. Her and my dad had been trying to have kids unsuccessfully for years. A distant connection told them about me and they said it was love at first sight. They have always been a little vague on the details and I always figured they were trying to spare my feelings. They said my only living relative was elderly and couldn’t care for me properly. I’d been a difficult baby but when my new mom held me, I just stopped crying and then the deal was done. And then, like so often happens, they ended up having my sister, their biological child, but they never made me feel like less than their son.
“I’m so sorry, Oliver, but thank goodness it ended well. Your parents sound like wonderful people, your biological mom, too. And that also explains why you know about shifters.”
“Yup.”
“What was it like being different?”
“You mean being the only male who couldn’t shift?”
Penelope nodded.
“For a long time, I thought that if I just tried harder, or maybe there was some trick, something that I needed to learn. My parents tried to tell me it was because I was human, but when you’re three and all the other boys could change, the words didn’t really mean anything to me. It wasn’t too bad when I was small and they’d all shift and I had all these rambunctious puppies to play with, but when they got older and the play got rougher, I got bitten a few times.”
He smiled and held out his wrist to show Penelope the puncture marks, clearly wolf-tooth prints.
“Damn. That must have hurt.”
Oliver shrugged.
“No more than getting sacked playing football, but their parents would yell and punish them for hurting me. I tried to say I was fine, but the adults always emphasized how they should be careful around me. After a while it was easier for them to stop playing with me. But then they’d tease me and call me a girl, and that hurt worse than any bite.
“I wanted so badly to be a shifter when I was growing up. I was probably four or five the first time I asked my father why I couldn’t shift like the others. I had known that the men shifted. I’d seen my father in his wolf-dog form. He looked so majestic and regal in his wolf form. And I so badly wanted to be like him. But he told me I was too young to make that kind of decision. I asked again a few years later when I realized that all my male cousins could shift, too, and they weren’t eighteen. That’
s when he explained to me about my adoption. I didn’t really understand what that meant at the time. But I vaguely recall a family road trip that summer. I was five. I cared more about my toy cars, but it was to the cemetery where my mom was buried. They managed to track down a photo of Rose with a man who may have been my father and they looked so young and happy. They gave it to me when I was a little older. When I got older, mom and dad told me that when I turned eighteen, if I wanted them to, they would help me track down information about my birth family, but it just never seemed important to me before. I had mom and dad and my sister. I was surrounded by love. Why would I go looking for strangers who had rejected me?”
“We may not have been related by blood, but no dad loved his son more. When I was fourteen he and Mom sat me down and offered me a choice. I was old enough, they said, to make my own decisions, and if I wanted to be a shifter, it could be done. They’d gone to the Alpha and spoken to him about it when I was born, and he told them that if I wanted this when I was eighteen, then he would make it happen, but not before.”
“And when you turned eighteen?”
“By then, I’d come to terms with what it meant to be human. And I understood more about what it would mean to allow myself to be changed. When they asked on my eighteenth birthday, I said no. I almost changed my mind when I saw the hurt in my father’s eyes. That’s when I told him that I wanted to be like him, but not as a wolf, but as a healer. I’d decided to go to medical school.”