by Helena Ray
Her thighs tightened from the tingling inside her pussy when she remembered the feel of Clay’s tongue between her legs, his silky blond hair between her fingers as she rode his face straight to an earth-shattering orgasm. But then she had seen his brother, and after she recovered from the shock of a naked man interrupting her long winter’s nap, the sight of his erect cock had just added to her arousal.
How could she be so attracted to two men? Brothers, no less? Anya remembered when her grandmother awkwardly explained ménage relationships to her when she asked about her Aunt Cora’s two fathers. Sometimes, her grandmother had stuttered uncomfortably, two men would fall in love with one woman. When Anya explained that she had seen Gone with the Wind enough times to know all about love triangles, Grandma Rita had corrected her. Ménage relationships were not love triangles, she specified, but one relationship that developed organically between three or more people. Yes, the woman would get something different from her relationship with each man, but it would be understood from the first moment that both men would love the woman together.
Even as a teenager, the idea had fascinated her, and when she later realized the sexual ramifications of the situation—that two hard cocks would fill a woman at once—ménages had haunted her dreams. Her grandmother had said that the men in the Yeats family, Aunt Cora’s family, traditionally shared their women, as did a few other families in the Valley. Anya racked her brain, trying to remember if she had ever mentioned anything about the Abbotts, but came up empty.
Would they want that with her? Damn it, she wasn’t doing a very good job of calming down. With a few deep breaths, she coaxed herself into standing and splashing some cold water on her face. Shakily reaching for her clothes, she realized it would take much more than cold water to cool the flames inside of her.
It would take an Abbott—or two.
* * * *
Clay watched the door to the bathroom close before turning his attention to his brother, who was dressing himself in a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt kept in the office desk.
“What the fuck, Jack?” he hissed under his breath. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I saw the lights go out while I was shifted, and it was enough to get me to call me back into human form. How was I to know that you’d be in here with our mate naked on the floor?”
“Our—” Taking a deep breath, Clay closed his mind and tried to dissolve the mental barrier he kept up to shield his thoughts from his brother. “You really think she’s our mate?” he sent telepathically.
“Of course I do.” Jack’s expression was devoid of its usual tension. Clay now saw a rare sight, his brother without any of the bravado or extraversion he used to mask the constant chatter inside his mind. “I saw her while I was in lion form,” he said under his breath, flicking his eyes toward the bathroom door. “And it’s been all I can think about, Clay. The sight of her keeps looping in my brain, just like it did for Oliver. I saw his memory of seeing Chelsea, and it looked just like my first sight of…”
“Anya. Did you forget her name already?”
“Pardon me, but I was too caught up gazing at the top of those breasts. She’s fucking gorgeous.”
“Wait until you see all of her.”
A worried expression fell over Jack’s features. “What happened? I mean, no offense, bro, but how did you get her back here? Snagging the ladies has never really been your thing.”
“Do you really not recognize her? It’s Anya, Rita’s granddaughter, Gerard Copely’s daughter. She was in the Valley all the time when she was a teenager, practically lived in Savage Hunger.”
“I would remember her, even an awkward kid version of her. You know I’ve never spent all that much time at Savage Hunger. It’s still too hard for me with the Popes there all the time.”
“What’s too hard?”
Anya emerged from the bathroom at that moment, and both Clay and his brother turned to see her dressed again, although her tousled hair and the flush of her pale skin attested to their earlier play. Damn, sinking between her legs had been so fucking good, and hearing her gasping his name right before she came…Well, that was a pleasure he’d never imagined.
She walked with purpose across the small office, and Clay’s breath hitched when she molded her body against his side. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her to him. Nothing had ever felt so right as having her soft, feminine curves pressing into him. Without thinking, he leaned over and brushed a kiss against her forehead. She cooed and burrowed closer to him, and his cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans.
“Sorry for waking you.” Jack’s voice drew both Clay’s and Anya’s attention.
“It was quite a start,” she said, and Clay ran his hand down her back, feeling the rise and fall of her ribcage as she spoke. “But I guess I’ll forgive you.”
“You know, you never did explain what you were doing in my store, doe eyes.” Jack leaned back against the wall and crossed his legs, appearing as calm as ever. “And naked nonetheless. Not that I mind.”
The flush in Anya’s cheeks intensified, and Clay felt her silent giggle against his chest.
“I think Clay would be the one to explain that.” Anya put on an expression of exaggerated distress. “What can I say? I was just a poor damsel in distress and he rescued me from getting stuck in the snowstorm.”
“Oh, at great personal cost to him, I can see,” Jack replied sarcastically.
“Indeed.” Clay brushed her hair back and grazed his lips over her earlobe. “Great personal cost.” Her pulse quickened, and her sweet aroma became more potent, calling Clay’s lion to the surface. The rational part of Clay’s mind screamed at him not to overwhelm her, not to scare her away, and it was the only thing that kept him from stripping her and fucking her right then and there. Never had he wanted anything with such a visceral force.
His fingernails began tingling, a sure sign that his inner lion was clawing to the surface, and Clay released Anya and took a step away from her. He needed a moment without her tempting heartbeat against his skin, because he was damn close to mating her right then, Jack be damned.
“Painting,” he choked out breathily. Yes, that would do the trick. He could return to his work and try to dampen the inferno inside of him, although he knew his cock would stay hard as long as Anya was within a hundred-foot radius. The brunette beauty in question turned her wide eyes up to him. “Is it okay if I work on my painting for a bit, darlin’? I’ll just be over in the corner if you’re too uncomfortable with my crazy brother.”
“You should listen to him,” Jack said, his gaze locked on Anya’s. “I can be quite dangerous. After all, I have a reputation for running around naked in snowstorms.”
“Yeah, why exactly were you doing that?” Anya asked then looked back at Clay. “Is this a regular occurrence?”
“Why don’t you let Jack explain.”
Anya looked back and forth between the two men several times, each glance more assessing than the one before, until a flush rose from beneath her T-shirt to color her pale skin.
“Sounds good,” she said finally. “I don’t want to interrupt a masterpiece.”
Clay turned and looked at his canvas, illuminated only by the soft glow of the lamplight. The colors morphed in the low light, revealing new aspects of their luminescence. “Thanks for understanding,” he said as he brushed a kiss on the top of her head. Withdrawing from her took such effort. Only ten feet away would be ten feet too far.
* * * *
Now that the idea of a ménage between herself and the Abbott brothers had wormed its way into her brain, it colored everything she saw. Clay had left her to spend time with Jack after he had spent the evening driving her crazy. That had to mean something, right? Did he want her and Jack to develop a bond? And Jack was overtly flirtatious even after Clay had kissed her senseless. He wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t had cause to believe that Clay would approve of
their flirtation, would he?
Exhaustion quieted the questions echoing in her brain as she sank to the floor, resting her back against the desk. Across the small office on the opposite wall, Jack did the same. His smile stunned her once more along with the amusement that sparkled in his blue eyes.
Loosened from the wine and the cunnilingus, Anya blurted her question to Jack.
“So why were you naked?”
It appeared as though a dark cloud flashed over Jack’s features, casting a shadow over the ever-present sunlight in his expression. He appeared to fight the darkness, though, and a look of bemusement overtook his countenance.
“I know this is going to sound evasive, but I don’t want to lie to you.”
Oh no. His answer unsettled her stomach and reminded her far too much of the phone calls Christopher would make to his wife when he had a tryst with a random groupie. Damn it, why did thoughts of that man keep seeping into her life in Savage Valley? That part of her life was closed, and she needed to move on.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
“I won’t.” With one fluid motion, Jack rolled onto his knees and crawled closer to Anya, so that he sat just on the edge of the makeshift bed. “I would tell you now, but it’s a very long story, one I want to be certain you hear in its entirety.”
Jack’s words caught in her chest, and even through her doubts, hope blossomed there.
“It sounds like you’re planning on telling this story to me someday.”
“Someday soon, gorgeous,” Jack replied with a smile. “But I want to be sure you don’t have any wine in your system to muddle the details.”
After hesitating, Anya nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”
“Phew.” Jack pretended to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. “I was worried you’d never speak to me again.”
“But you have to tell me something else.”
“Anything, gorgeous.” Anya smirked at him, and he amended, “Well, nearly anything.”
“Tell me about your family.” The question was innocuous enough, but Anya noticed the brief tensing in Jack’s muscles before he answered. Hopefully, he would tell her exactly what she wanted to hear.
“Let me get this straight. I’ll tell you anything, and you want me to tell you about my family? No offense, but that’s tame.”
“Don’t be evasive,” Anya said with a hint of teasing. “I’m curious.”
To Anya’s surprise, Jack turned to face his brother. “Clay.” The older Abbott continued at his canvas until Jack cleared his throat loudly.
As if a spell were broken, Clay stumbled backward then turned back to face them.
“Anya wants to know about our family.”
Neither said anything else, but an entire conversation seemed to pass between them in only a few seconds. Finally, Jack turned back to Anya, the amusement of earlier gone.
“Well, for the most part, they’re gone.”
“Oh god, I had no idea,” Anya said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to pry, I really didn’t. If you don’t want to answer—”
“I don’t mind talking about it.” The mirth had trickled back into Jack’s eyes. “It’s just a little hard to remember sometimes.”
“Did something happen?”
Jack hesitated for a moment, appearing to consider how best to phrase his response. “Yes, but we’re not upset about it. There was a…hunting accident. And when our mom went after our dads, she never came back.”
“Oh my god, what hap—”
Anya hated to sound insensitive, but what she had just heard had her world tilting on its axis. Dads. Meaning multiple fathers. Meaning they had one wife. She told herself to calm down, that she may have been hearing things.
Jack studied her, and his stunning smile widened. “Yes, I said dads. Plural. Your family’s from around here if I’ve understood Clay correctly, right?”
“Well, my dad is, at least.”
“Shit, I can’t believe you’re Gerard Copely’s daughter,” he said reverently.
“But about your…”—Anya hesitated to say it out loud for fear that her uttering the words would make them untrue—“y–your dads?”
“Well, there were three of them, brothers. They’ve always owned the Ninth Time. Hell, our family’s been hocking other people’s shit for as long as anyone can remember. There used to be a used auto part of the business, out back where the Savage Hunger parking is now. They brought old cars back to life before reality TV made it cool.”
Anya watched Clay’s face illuminate as he told her the endearing story of how his fathers—the word still sounded bizarre to Anya—met his mother. “You see, brothers in the Abbott family have always shared their women, for the last hundred and fifty years or so, at least.”
“How do you know it’s been going on that long?” Anya asked, completely engrossed in Jack’s tale.
“Remember how I couldn’t tell you why I was naked?”
“How could I forget?”
“Same reason.”
Frustration began to tug at the edge of her mind, but the implications of what Jack said pushed it away. When Anya opened her mouth to speak, her breath wouldn’t cooperate, leaving her mouth dangling open in awe. Finally, her diaphragm allowed her to inhale a deep breath.
“So you and Clay…” The idea was too incredible to voice.
“Yes, Anya, Clay and I fully intend to share a wife.”
Any response Anya could formulate stopped in her mind when Jack rose to his knees and closed the short distance between them. With one smooth stride, Jack’s abdomen was pressed against her calves, and his face was inches from hers.
“With that in mind,” he began as he reached out and stroked his thumb over her chin, “I’d like to get to know you, especially since you seem to be getting along with Clay so well.”
A shiver ran down Anya’s spine at Jack’s nearness. Something in the back of her mind told her she should be afraid, that men could not be trusted, but that something was drowned out by the sincerity that sparkled in his wide blue eyes.
He didn’t move, staring at her as if awaiting her reaction to his words, and Anya realized she would have to make the first move. She waited a moment more, wondering if Clay would react. When the only sounds she heard were the wind roaring against the back door to the Ninth Time, she surged forward, allowing her lips to crash against Jack’s, but he controlled the kiss as he slid his hand across her jawline, holding her still for the languid assault of his lips.
At first, she fought, wanting the burning arousal that electrified her nerve endings when Clay had touched her, but as Jack brushed her hair behind her ear, she remembered that this wasn’t Clay. No, Jack was his own man, and her body would respond to him differently. Instead of the hot tingling of excitement that rushed through her body at Clay’s touch, a slow, erotic sensation burned from within her womb, tightening her lower abdomen and her thighs as it warmed over her.
As she extended her legs and let Jack press his body harder against her, the pleasure wept from within her cunt, both onto her panties and throughout her body. It traveled through her veins, twisting and turning down her limbs as if someone had injected her with warm liquid sugar.
Jack’s soft lips withdrew, and Anya followed them, hoping for only a fraction of a second more of his kiss. Instead, he sat back on his heels and dragged his hand to her upper arm. As she watched the rise and fall of his chest, she noticed that she panted in time with him.
“Yes, I think I’ll enjoy getting to know you,” Jack said as he clambered to his feet. Anya still couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. The vibrations of his kiss still echoed through her lips, her body still intoxicated by him.
“We wasted so much time,” Clay said, approaching them. From where Anya still leaned against the desk, she could see the bulge tenting his jeans. She dragged her eyes upward, taking in the hard chest that his tight shirt hinted at until she met h
is eyes. The unmistakable lust that burned there both excited her and overwhelmed her. The suddenness of all that had happened began to weigh on her, and she needed a moment alone.
Her brain moved quickly, trying to think of a way both to withdraw and to stay near her men. Only one solution came to her, although she found it slightly pathetic.
“I–I don’t know if I can stay awake much longer,” she said between yawns, feigning sleepiness. The two brothers shared a knowing look, and Clay knelt down in front of her.
“Don’t worry about staying awake for us, darlin’.” He leaned forward and brushed a fluttering kiss against her cheekbone. “We’ve got nothing but time now, and you’ll need your strength.”
“Surviving a blizzard takes it out of you,” Jack added as he squatted next to his brother. “Especially if you’re caught in it naked.”
She laughed, thankful they weren’t particularly bothered. She focused entirely on the warm pillow between them and the pile of blankets she slept on earlier, and her pretend sleepiness suddenly turned very real.
“Kill the light.” Clay wrapped his arms around Anya and pulled her to his chest. Slowly, he lowered her to the blankets.
“But how are you going to see to paint?” she asked as she curled against the pillow, wondering how much longer she could lie awake listening to Clay’s breathing. Clay brushed a kiss against her hair and covered her in a soft quilt.
“Same reason my idiot brother was naked in a blizzard,” he whispered with a soft laugh.
Anya tried to contemplate this enigma surrounding the Abbotts, and giver herself a much-needed opportunity to process what had happened, but sleep caused her to lose her mind’s grasp on the question.