Fill Her Up

A Daly Way Story

By Brynn Paulin

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

2665 S Atlantic Avenue, #349

Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Fill Her Up

Copyright © 2011 Brynn Paulin

Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman

Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-325-6

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: May 2011

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To my wonderful and patient husband.

Here’s to nineteen more years.

Chapter One

“Fill her up.”

Barely registering the words, Patrick O’Keefe stared with stunned disbelief at the woman in the car. His hands froze in the act of wiping them on a shop cloth, his greeting dying before crossing his lips. The gas pumps beside them faded away as did ten years of time and healing. He was the twenty year-old guy, staring at his seventeen year old girlfriend who’d disappeared into the night with nary a word nor explanation to him.

Verity Thompson. Alive and well and more beautiful than ever.

Long dormant fury fired to life. Just like that, she came home, appearing whole and perfectly adjusted… What the hell? Fill her up? Like hell!

He yanked open her car door.

“Get out,” he growled.

Her eyes went wide and the smile that had been on her face faltered then disappeared. “Patrick…”

So, she knew who the hell he was. Good, because she had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Not only had she been his girlfriend, but they’d intended to marry soon after she turned eighteen—he and Verity and his best friend Sim, who’d lived in the town where they’d all gone to school.

“Get. Out. Of the car,” he ordered, wondering if his military training would need to come into play here. This woman wasn’t going anywhere until he had some answers.

“Patrick, it’s been ten years,” she protested, reaching for the door handle to slam it shut again. His fingers tightened on the metal, holding it in place like a steel wedge.

“Exactly.”

She’d already unfastened her seatbelt when she’d pulled into the lot. Easily, he reached for her and hauled her out of the car. Sympathy was absent as he frog-marched her into the waiting area of the full-service station and garage then back to the office area. His brother and cousins, who were working on various projects, cleared out, giving him the room.

He yanked out his desk chair.

“Sit,” he ordered then he released her and backed away. He leaned against the single door to the windowless room, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere until he was good and ready.

She stared at him, any humor she’d had when she’d pulled into the station gone. Her arms crossed her chest, and she stared at him fire in her dark brown eyes. They hadn’t changed a bit. Big and brown and hinting of her Hispanic ancestry, as did her long nearly black hair and light olive toned skin. Her curves had developed since she’d left here, yet her body was now sleek without a hint of the tiny bit of baby fat she’d once retained.

As she scowled at him, her breasts heaved, and his cock went hard in his jeans. Refusing to give into that, he lifted an eyebrow and waited for her to comply with his demand.

“If you think you can drag me in here and start ordering me around, you have another thing coming,” she exclaimed. “I’m not the little girl you used to push around—”

She broke off as he straightened and pushed away from the door. Eyes wide, she took a step back and tripped into the chair. He towered over her as she sprawled in it. Before she could arrange herself or leap out of it, he leaned over her, bracing his hands on the armrests and effectively caging her in. She stared up at him in wide-eyed fear.

“Push…you…around?” he growled. “Is that the lie you’ve been telling yourself all these years, honey? That I pushed you around? I forced you to run off in the night without a word to your parents—”

“I talked to them—”

“When?” he demanded. If she had, he didn’t know about it. Of course, they’d blamed him for her departure and stopped speaking with him as soon as it had been clear he didn’t know where their daughter had disappeared to, and as soon as they knew she wasn’t with him.

“I wrote them a few months after I left.”

And no one had told him. He’d been in the military then. He supposed they had the excuse that they couldn’t reach him, you know, unless they’d tried. His family had always known where to find him.

His fury bubbled into rage.

He had a knife wound in his back from an attack by an al-Qaeda wannabe in Iraq. He’d been so distracted by worry about Verity that he hadn’t detected the fourteen year old before the kid had plunged a blade into him. That had been just after she’d disappeared. The worst had gone through his mind—that she’d get caught up in prostitution like so many young runaways did, that she’d been kidnapped, that she’d gone for a walk and been attacked and killed by an animal or man, that she’d been forced into white slavery… Everyday a new and worse scenario had haunted him.

Apparently, none of them were true. Thank God. But the unnecessary mental anguish stabbed at his anger, making it worse.

Gathering herself, she shifted her expression into a defiant scowl. “Are you going to hold me here like a prisoner of war? Waterboard me if I don’t give you the answers you want?”

“I have better methods,” he replied.

A spark of lust flickered in her eyes just before she narrowed them. “You’d stoop to sexual assault?”

“Assault? Hardly, honey.” Though…he could make her want it. He knew Verity’s hot spots. He could have her writhing with desire. He could give her exactly what he wanted then leave her wondering what the hell had happened, just as she’d done to him.

She shoved at his chest, her small fingers ineffective against his muscles. “Let me up.”

“When I’m ready.”

Her lips pursed as she pressed them together. Oh, yes, here was the prissy Verity he missed. This was the look she’d always given him when she’d known she shouldn’t do something but wanted to more than anything else.

“I’m not that girl anymore,” she insisted. “I’m just here to see my parents.”

“Do they know you’re coming?” he asked. It would be just like them to keep this from him.

She started to shake her head then stopped sharply. “Yes.”

“Don’t lie to me, Verity.” He lifted a hand and stroked his finger along her cheek. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip before she closed her eyes and shied away. A flash of tenderness soothed a bit of his anger. There’d been arousal and desire in her gaze before she’d hidden it from him. “Don’t lie,” he repeated. “That was always something good we had between us. The truth. And the truth was that you wanted me and Sim. We were going to be a family. And you ran. And I want answers.”

“It was ten years ago,” she insisted.

“And I’m the man you left behind to deal with the pieces of what we were going to have. Why did you go?”

She sighed but she still didn’t look at him. He grasped her chin and forced her gaze in his direction. “Open your eyes and tell me why.”

Defiant anger greeted him. “I just want gas in my car and to be on my way.”

His fingers tightened, but he didn’t say a word.

“I’m pressing charges,” she insisted.

Right. “I care.”

“I was scared. Okay? I was fucking scared. I didn’t want to get caught in the Daly cycle and be a woman who was good for nothing but having sex with her multiple husbands and popping out babies. I wanted more to life than that.”

“Is that really what you think of the women here? Of your mother? Of my mother?”

“Your mother was married to one man.”

Patrick’s disbelief overwhelmed him. This was what Verity had thought—what she still seemed to think? Most people in Daly practiced ménage. There weren’t enough women so the men shared. Boys were brought up knowing that was the Daly Way. Usually a couple men had one woman. Sometimes more than a couple men.

“And you think your mother was nothing more than a whore.”

“Don’t call her that!”

He raised an eyebrow, not caring that she was as infuriated as a wet cat. “That’s what you said… ‘Good for nothing more than having sex’. Right?”

“That’s just like you to take what I say out of context.”

“Is it?” he asked. “As I recall, I was nothing but good to you. I promised you everything.”

“But a life,” she retorted. “Keeping your house and waiting around while you gallivanted around the world, charging into danger, isn’t my idea of a life. I wanted more.”

“I would have let you have more—”

“Let?” she screeched, and he could see this conversation was about to spiral out of control. Ten years of festering wounds were about to explode.

“It’s just an expression, honey,” he replied, purposely egging her on with a condescending tone. “But do tell. What life was it that I denied you?”

With a glare, she pressed her lips together and looked away.

“Oh don’t shut up now,” he told her. “I’d really like to know more about what an awful person I am—what a terrible person Sim is. You want me to call him?”

“Sim is here?” she asked quietly.

“It’s home. He moved back.” They’d both been in the Navy when she’d run. Patrick had come home five years ago to take over his parents’ business, O’Toole’s Gas and Repair. Sim had discharged a couple years earlier after an IED had destroyed the hearing in one of his ears. Luckily, Sim had been spared other physical trauma, unlike Patrick’s brother who still lived with the extensive scarring wrought by a suicide bomber. And he’d been a civilian, not a soldier like Patrick and Sim.

“I just want to go to my parents,” she replied, denying any desire to see Sim.

“You sure? He’s right across the street at the house I built next door to the family home.” Oh, she’d see Sim. Right now, Patrick was taunting her, releasing some of his impotent tension, but he knew this wasn’t ending before Verity served her time with the two of them.

He grinned at the thought. Served her time… A lifetime sentence was obviously out of the question, but Verity owed them some answers. And he owed it to her to show her exactly what she’d run out on.

It stung that she’d imply he and Sim would have denied her a life. What the hell? The women around here were talented, strong females who were far more than concubines to their husbands. They’d be deeply insulted by Verity’s implication.

“Since your parents aren’t expecting you, you can see them later.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“You’re coming with me.”

Pulling her from the chair, he yanked her close to his body. Immediately, her sweet curves pressed to him like a pliant mold, learning his planes.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“Later.”

He coerced her across the room to the door, finding it rather ironic that she fought to get away when all she’d wanted before was to get out the door.

“Jamie,” he called as he left. “There’s something wrong with Verity’s car. It needs a full check. You might need to take it apart for a deep down inspection.”

“Don’t listen to him!”

Patrick clapped his hand over her mouth.

“Keys are in the ignition. Verity definitely needs a valve cleaning. You should get it up in the air.”

“I see,” Jamie replied, his hand to the side of his face as he regarded them. Though he’d found the woman of his dreams who loved him scars and all, he wasn’t yet fully confident with his looks. “Nice to see you again, Verity. I’ll get your car fixed up.”

She screeched behind Patrick’s hand, but he was already turning them toward the door. Immediately, once outside, he slung her up over his shoulder and marched for his house.

“Let me down! Patrick, God damn it! You can’t do this. Put me down.” She smacked at him and kicked her feet until he fastened an iron-like arm around her legs. He wasn’t letting her down until he was good and ready. Her fists pummeled his back. Giving up on convincing him, she screamed. “Help! Help me!”

To his amusement, a few of the cowboys from the outlying ranches were just exiting Leena’s Diner as he crossed the street. They knew him—everyone in Daly knew him—and instead of rushing to Verity’s aid, they stood in the middle of the street hooting and hollering at Patrick’s outrageous caveman tactics, which he had to admit was way outside his usual laidback norm, but Verity had always pushed him.

Chapter Two

Slung over Patrick’s back, Verity shrieked and fought to get free. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to him—she was and far more than she wanted to admit to him—but if she let him start something with her, she wasn’t sure she could end it. It had taken far too much work and will to get past Patrick and Sim and Daly. She didn’t want to be a military wife, stuck at home while her men went out to fight wars. Even with the two of them now settled in Daly, she didn’t want to be stuck in Patrick’s house being a housewife. There was nothing wrong with that, but she wanted more.

And the male assholes of this town wouldn’t listen. Five of them—five!—were standing in the street just cheering as if a freaking parade was passing by and tossing out hundred dollar bills. This was what she meant. This was how denigrated the women of Daly were. They had no rights. They belonged to their men. Sex and babies. She hadn’t been wrong in what she’d told Patrick. He’d just misconstrued it. The deep shadow of his eastern facing house enveloped them as he marched onto the porch. Evening was fast approaching, and thunderclouds in the west hid the sun. There’d be more than one storm tonight, but the question was which would leave the most damage.

“Patrick…please…” she pleaded quietly. Her energy drained from her, and she knew she wouldn’t easily leave this battle. She damned the arousal he sent through her body. It would only grow worse when Sim joined the fray.

“Please what, honey? I think you might be leaving a little wet spot on my shoulder,” he told her, caressing her ass through her linen pants. “I can smell your heat.”

“I did not!” she protested, hoping to God that she hadn’t. Hell, the humiliation. Her body had always betrayed her with him. And he knew her well since they’d been lovers from when she was sixteen until she’d run at nearly eighteen. She’d known if she reached her eighteenth birthday in Daly, she’d never escape.

If not for her parents—most specifically for her father, Doc Thompson, the vet in these parts—she never would have come home. No! Not home. Just Daly. She never would have come to Daly.

“You sure about that?” his hand tightened on her, and she looked to see if anyone had seen. The whole place looked barren, and even those cowboys had taken off. It was probably because of the thunderstorms rolling in. Already, streaks of lightning forked across the leaden clouds while thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Thankfully, the rain hadn’t started falling yet. Wouldn’t that be a lovely addition to this nightmare—her own personal wet T-shirt contest.

Desperately, she searched the area for help. The sidewalks lining both sides of the street and bordering the side-by-side storefronts were deserted and pristine, not giving a hint of the prurient spirit of this place. The whole scene looked as small-town and wholesome as a Rockwell painting. She knew the steamy undercurrent that made up this place’s lifeblood.

She hadn’t expected this when she’d driven into Daly. Hell, she’d expected Patrick was still off running around the world in his pretty Navy uniform. When he’d come home on a brief leave after basic training, he’d been all buff and handsome in his class A’s. He’d spent a lot of time with her… Her tummy fluttered at the memory. And in her.

Her parents hadn’t approved, and they also hadn’t mentioned he’d come back to Daly. She hadn’t asked.

“Put me down,” she demanded as soon as they set foot inside.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said but immediately manacled his fingers around her wrist.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered, tugging her arm and pushing at his fingers.

“Well, some of your wishes. When you’re telling me the truth about what you want.”

She slapped his arm. “I want you to let me go.”

“See there you go. We both know that’s not true.” He glanced at her chest. “It’s really not that chilly.”

Her eyes went wide, and she slung her free arm over her traitorous nipples. “Bastard,” she muttered.

“You know very well my parents were married,” he laughed. “Now then, I need to get cleaned up.”

“Fine. I’ll stay here.”

“Sure you will. Maybe for the thirty seconds it takes me to get in the bathroom.”

She made a disbelieving sound. “And why should I stay?”

Patrick was silent for a moment, his dark green eyes solemn as he probed her gaze. “For the same reason you should have stayed before.”

Without a word, he opened the drawer in the side table between two wingchairs in his bi-level living room. He scooped out something then pulled her over to the iron railing between the upper and lower portions of living space. The sunken area featured a fireplace, a large thick rug and a huge sectional.

She dug in her heels. She wasn’t racing into his love pit. And that’s what it struck her as—a place to make love to a woman on the piled carpeting before the fire. He paused at the two steps leading down to the “pit” then pulled her wrist to the railing. When he opened his hand, she saw he’d retrieved a pair of handcuffs from the table. Her effort to escape renewed and redoubled, but he quickly had her shackled to the railing.

“Is this what you do now!” she demanded, rattling the cuff and looking for a release lever. These were the real deal and only a key would let her go. “You have to chain up women? Have you descended so low?”

“Watch it, Verity, or you’ll see just how far I will go. I’m going to clean up and I don’t want you running away.”

“Damn it, Patrick!”

He headed away down the hallway, ignoring her struggle and her swearing. When it became apparent that he didn’t intend to return—at least right away—she sank onto the step and stared into the empty fireplace. Her head rested against one iron upright.

He wouldn’t rape her, so she wasn’t scared of that. Though ten years had passed, she knew he’d never resort to that. He wouldn’t have to. Her body was making that clear…and he’d just managed to find the thing she’d often fantasized about when she’d been alone in her bed during college and veterinary school. Bondage. And damn it. He’d starred in too many of those dreams—him and Sim.

A door slammed in another part of the house and she heard water go on. There was nothing she could do but wait and tell her body to freaking calm down. She wasn’t engaging in sex with Patrick or Sim. She wasn’t getting embroiled in the mindless sensation again and forgetting that she had her real life waiting for her—it didn’t matter how he looked at her with the roguish smile that had always made her insides flutter.

His effect on her hadn’t lessened. His green eyes still devoured her. He was still mouth-watering. His wide shoulders, firm muscles, black hair and sparkling gaze all called to her. Today, he wore a white T-shirt stretched across his powerful muscles and she knew from feeling him against her as he’d effortlessly propelled her to his desire, that he did more working out than required for auto work. His shoulders were still impossibly wide and his torso tapered sharply into lean, narrow hips.

Somewhere along the line, he’d picked up a thorny, black-inked band that circled his left biceps and made her mouth water. Odd, since she didn’t usually go for tattoos, but then, everything about him made her salivate, from his build to his manner to his enticing male scent—oh…his scent. All male and pine and outdoors and clean, hardworking sweat—

Shit. She was in trouble.

* * * *

After Patrick finished washing his hands with the mechanic’s soap he kept on the bathroom vanity, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sim Germaine, his best friend since childhood.

“Damn it, Patrick, you know I’m in the middle of an arms deal. What do you want?”

They shared the house, but Sim was a writer and he liked to work in solitude. Apparently, the house that was empty while Patrick worked wasn’t solitude enough. He preferred a small, one-room cabin out in BFE that he rented from one of the area’s ranchers.

Patrick laughed. “Better hope Big Brother isn’t tapping your phone. Save your manuscript, close your laptop and come home.”

“Why? I have a deadline.”

“Verity’s here.”

There was a long pause as Sim digested what he’d said. “Verity? Our Verity?”

“Yes. Do you know another one?” Patrick leaned his hip against the sink.

“What are you going to do?” Sim asked.

“Make her regret leaving Daly and us.”

Sim made a disbelieving sound. “I’m sure she’ll just go along with that. Huh,” he laughed. “Not the Verity I recall.”

“Just come home and stop being a dick,” Patrick growled.

“Hey, who’s interrupting whose work? And how exactly am I being a dick?”

“Fuck you.”

Sim paused before finally answering, “Thanks for the lovely offer.”

Patrick disconnected the call without responding and shoved his phone into his pants pocket. He wasn’t going to banter with Sim over supposed entendre right now. This was serious, not a game.

His pulse revved as he imagined Verity between him and Sim. That was a game he’d readily go for. One of them would make her come while the other would lave her nipples until she writhed from the sensual torture. Their hands would run all over her, and only after she’d found release again would they claim her body with their cocks—one filling her pussy while the other took pleasure in her mouth…or maybe her ass.

His cock jumped, wanting to feel her sweet nectar again. He had to wait for Sim. They were in this together. She was theirs, not just his.

With a fortifying breath, he reached into the shower. He’d at least be clean when Sim got home.

* * * *

Verity straightened as she heard Patrick return to the living room, but she didn’t stand, choosing rather to rattle her wrist at him and glare.

“Let me go. C’mon, this isn’t funny…” Her words cut off as he crouched beside her and drew his thumb along her bottom lip. To her chagrin, warmth flooded through her, and she felt the folds of her pussy swell. Her breath caught in her chest, arrested as arousal slammed into her with the force of an NFL linebacker.

With eyes wide, she watched his head dip forward and knew she was powerless to stop him—not because he’d force her but because her body and soul wanted this so badly. It was only her head that insisted she hadn’t missed him at all, and even that voice was growing smaller and smaller.

His lips brushed over hers in the lightest of feathery, coaxing touches. He wanted her to fold then melt for him. Without thought, she parted her lips. There was nothing to do for it… She’d always given him this. Nostalgia and denied need warred, as she accepted his tongue and inhaled his fresh-from-the-shower scent. Irish Spring intertwined with the ever so faint smell of oil and rubber. It combined with the undeniable notes of rugged man. Every bit of him was so masculine goose bumps erupted on her skin.

Lost, she leaned into him and let him have her mouth.

Cinnamon… He still chewed cinnamon gum, and the taste of it lingered on his tongue as he stroked languidly along her own. Though urgency screamed through her veins, there was nothing urgent in his kiss—at least, not up front. She could feel the restrained power as he claimed her mouth, taking his time to explore and claim the recess. He was waiting. This was just the beginning.

“Patrick,” she gasped, pulling back. “I can’t—”

“You’re not a virgin, honey. I know that for sure. It was my cock that made it so.”

Her pussy clenched, despite his coarse language.

“And I’m sure it hasn’t been empty the past ten years.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she muttered before she stopped herself. Now, why the hell had she told him that. She’d been busy; that was all. And she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.

As a slow grin lifted one side of his mouth, she knew she’d just done exactly that. He thought she’d been pining after him and Sim.

Self-consciously, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. A reciprocal flare of desire momentarily lit his eyes. She couldn’t help feeling normal, plain-Verity had somehow slipped into an alternate reality. No… She’d been living the alternate reality since she’d moved away from this place. She’d been living in a place where people courted…dated…and they didn’t decide they’d met their “one” the moment they met her. She used to joke that it was something in the water that gave the men the mystical power of “knowing”. But she didn’t believe it was so mystical anymore. It was just lust.

And the gnawing in her belly, told her she had it bad.

Without forethought, she reached for Patrick, bringing his mouth back to her. The handcuff rattled on the railing, but she didn’t care anymore. She’d wanted to try bondage. This was close enough.

Patrick didn’t hold back this time. His arms were steel bands around her as he drew her to his body and claimed her mouth. Wet and hot, they kissed mindlessly. The world seemed to whirl around her, but all that was really in focus was the feel of his lips on hers and the thrust of his tongue against hers. She wasn’t sure how she got to her back on the two stairs, her arm flung out to the side and her wrist still attached to the iron upright. She didn’t know how Patrick ended up over her, his slim hips between her thighs. Their clothing separated them, but the hard ridge of his cock pressed tight to her pussy.

She whimpered as he ground into her, his erection managing to slide along her clit. She lifted a leg around his hip to give him better access…to give him permission. Permission…

A few minutes together, and she was giving herself to him?

“Just one time,” she gasped. “Just this one time…”

“The whole weekend,” he countered. “Until Monday morning. Give Sim and me the whole weekend.”

“I can’t.” She’d be lost in them. She’d never find her way out.

“You can. No one knows you’re here. A few more days won’t make a difference.” He curled her free arm up over her head, trapping her fully beneath him while he kissed along her neck. He hadn’t shaved again when he’d showered and the slight bit of bristle since this morning abraded her exposed skin. The feel of him, the feel of a man’s skin and the weight of him on her, was something no vibrator could mimic.

Sadness filled her at the knowledge she’d be back to that soon. She pushed it away and focused on now. This moment, with his mouth traveling to her breast. She moaned as he captured the peak, making her shirt damp as he sucked her deep. His tongue pressed against the rigid nubbin, circling the sensitive areola around the tip.

Verity dropped her head back, pressing in to him. A whole weekend… Forty or fifty-some hours with him and Sim—she couldn’t do the math now. Not with him driving her right to climax with his attention to her nipple. She could have this. Until Monday. Complete out and out abandon.

“Okay,” she whispered, still afraid she was making a mistake. “Until Monday morning. The whole weekend.”

He lifted his head, the devil in his eyes. “And the whole treatment.”

That look meant trouble. He’d tricked her. “And…what’s that?” she asked, hardly caring but needing to know.

“Me and Sim. And the two friends we have coming in for the weekend. They get here tonight.”

The moment between them froze as they stared at each other. Thoughts raced through her mind as he simply watched her, waiting.

Four. Four men. She’d heard of some women in Daly being in fivesomes. Was there even such a word as fivesome? Was it more like an orgy?

“Four of you?” she finally whispered.

He nodded and released the wrist he’d been holding. Gently, he stroked the hair back from her face. “You’ll be safe.”

“Is this because you’re pissed with me?” she asked. He was angry and now he wanted to pass her around.

He shook his head. “That’s another matter and something we need to deal with later. This is about you and learning that ménage isn’t the awful thing you think it is. And about fun and exploration. Sim and I will keep you safe. It will be clear that you belong to us and nothing goes without us and our permission.

“Four…” she whispered, half to herself.

“Four,” he repeated.

“And you’ll be right here?” Which was a far cry from her attitude a little bit ago when she’d wanted to be as far from him as possible.

“Right here, baby.”

She bit her lip then, after a moment, nodded. “Okay. I’ll do the weekend…and everything.”

Chapter Three

The rain began to fall in fat drops, spattering loudly on the skylight as they stared at each other.

“You know this place,” he finally said. “Most of us practice ménage. There aren’t enough women so we all share. It’s usually a couple men to one woman. Sometimes more.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me. My parents lived the lifestyle, remember?”

That green-eyed stare held her, and she fought the need to squirm. He seemed to vibrate power. Knowledge. Restrained sexual need.

“I find I prefer it,” he told her. “The sight of Sim’s hands on the woman we’re sharing. The sound of her moans as he pulls at her nipples and makes her squirm. The sight of her reacting to him and lifting her hips, and the sound of her cries muffled by his mouth as I take her pussy and make her come.”

Her fingernails bit into her palms as she listened. His words titillated her while vicious jealousy made her want to scream “no” because this man—and Sim—was hers. They couldn’t fuck anyone else. She looked away before he saw the full weight of her torment. Who was she to object? She’d left. Had she expected the young men they’d been to become monks and swear off the female race?

“There’s nothing like the feeling of Sim’s cock rubbing against mine as we fuck a woman at the same time.”

“Shut up,” she whispered. Her mouth had gone dry while her pussy had gotten very wet at his vivid description. She wanted to experience exactly what he described. But she didn’t want to hear about other women.

“It bothers you to hear?”

Her ire stirred. “What do you think, Dick Tracy?”

“Fair enough. You don’t tell us what you’ve done.”

“I already told you. Nothing to tell.”

“Shh…not a word.”

She could see the glee in his eyes. He liked that she hadn’t been with another. She knew why. What he’d said to her might be burned into her consciousness forever. Still some of what he’d said pricked at her—the part about Sim.

“Are…are you bisexual?” she asked.

“No, I’m not. Not really. I don’t mind Sim touching me, and I don’t freak out from feeling his cock while we make love to—while we’re in a ménage, but that’s it. So…I don’t know. Does that make me bisexual? A little maybe.”

Her core gave a little aroused shiver. “A little bit” bi-sexual could be more without much thought. The vision of Patrick sucking another man’s cock suddenly filled her mind’s eye. Her blood pumped a little faster, throbbing at the base of her neck as she tried to swallow.

He cupped the back of her head then leaned forward and closed the gap between their mouths. Helplessly, Verity groaned on a wash of emotion. The feeling of his mouth on hers roused so many conflicted sensations within her, but nothing was more important than giving her all to this weekend and experiencing her two ex-lovers as mature men.

Her torso arched toward him, and his other hand came up to join the first. His fingers dug into her scalp. She could feel his need. He couldn’t wait until they were together. Though he hadn’t said so, she suspected he was waiting for Sim.

Patrick coaxed her lips apart, quickly taking and owning her mouth. His tongue thrust against hers, rough against soft, determined against submitting.

“Are we sharing or do I just get to watch?” asked an amused, deep voice.

She broke away from Patrick’s mouth. “Sim!” she exclaimed.

“Better greeting than I got,” Patrick grumbled.

“You warmed me up.”

“So now we’re tying up women to keep them?” Sim cut in. “This is your plan?”

“Fuck you.”

Sim sighed. “You keep offering…”

“Cut it out!” his friend growled. Verity felt him tense above her. Even more, his cock jerked against her cunt. Oh, he was interested. Cream seeped into her pussy as she imagined them together. It confused her—shouldn’t she want them to be interested in her and only her? Still, she didn’t care that they liked each other too.

“Come ‘ere,” she said to Sim, beckoning to him with her fingers. Intensity rolled off him and electrified her senses, raising the small hairs along her arms—a warning, but not dire. She had to be prepared. Between the two of these men, she’d be perched at the pinnacle of a gigantic coaster. The three of them together would send her careening into the unknown at breakneck speed—and then when their friends arrived, that train might fly right off the tracks.

Sim knelt to her side then bent over her. He looked similar enough to Patrick to be his brother. The first time she’d seen him, she’d actually thought one of the O’Keefe cousins had come to town. Like Patrick, he’d grown more muscular and had inked his body, though Sim’s tattooing was more extreme. A full sleeve stretched up his left arm.

A damp shock of his hair flopped roguishly over his light brown eyes. He’d had to dash through the rain to get here. His black T-shirt was dry though, and she glanced behind him. A dripping slicker hung from a hook near the door. It was pouring outside. It reminded her of the many times the three of them had made love in the bed of Patrick’s old truck with the rain pounding on the camper top. They’d done it out in a downpour more than once too. Hell, she’d been damn lucky she hadn’t gotten pneumonia.

As Sim brushed his lips over hers, she wondered if it would have been such an awful thing. They would have tried to take care of her, just as they’d wanted to “do right” by her when she’d gotten pregnant. Had she not miscarried, she would have spent her life here with them.

And you would have gotten nowhere, Verity, she reminded herself. Just enjoy this weekend then leave your memories behind.

Verity bit her lip as she looked around. Sim wanted to capture the tormented flesh with his own teeth then kiss her. He kissed the tip of her nose to get her attention as Patrick moved to the side. She stared up at him with the wide brown eyes that had always melted his insides. Her big eyes could get him to do anything.

Gently, he cupped her cheek. Desire sparked in her gaze, but he’d been trained in body language and unless he missed his mark, Verity wasn’t completely comfortable with this anymore. Innocence seeped off her and he knew she hadn’t been with many men since the two of them.

His thumb smoothed along her bottom lip and pulled it free of the abuse inflicted by her teeth. Unable to resist, he slid his arm around her waist and drew her close, taking the place Patrick had had when Sim had walked in the door. A soft, pleased sigh escaped her. Her lips parted. Not needing more of an invitation, Sim tipped his head and captured her mouth.

Verity moaned and her body seemed to melt up into him. Her free fingers curled into his shirt as they kissed. Something inside him shifted, revealing long hidden feelings. He’d missed her.

“’Bout fucking time you came home,” he growled. “I want to know exactly where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”

“Later,” Patrick murmured. “She only agreed to a weekend.”

Sim’s head shot up and he glared at Patrick. “What?”

“She only agreed to a weekend.”

“I heard that,” he grated. “But why?” He shook his head and turned to her. “Never mind. We’ll discuss that later, too.”

Without letting her answer, he took her mouth again. The taint of anger lingered in his belly. Suddenly, he understood Patrick’s earlier tension. This needed to be fixed, but he’d take the weekend and go from there—of course, now that Verity was here, he was ready to get what he wanted from Patrick too. It seemed like it had been a lifetime of wanting on his part—wanting Verity and having her missing; wanting Patrick but unable to say anything.

Sim slid his tongue against hers, and she made a soft sound. Warmth filled him. Her palm skimmed up over his pecs and around his neck. She felt like ambrosia against him. Enflamed with desire, he held her tighter. His cock went ram-rod hard in his jeans. He pressed into her, letting her know just how much he wanted her softness.

“Yes,” she murmured between kisses.

“Are you ready for us?” he whispered, palming her small breast. It was firm and so perfect in his hand. The hard nubbin at her peak thrust into his touch. He captured it in his fingers, pulling and rolling the tip while Verity pushed into him, her guttural groans wrapping around his cock.

Her eyes were fogged by desire as he stood. Patrick rose as well. Together, they grasped the bottom edges of their shirts. She captured that lip between her teeth again and nodded.

“So beautiful…” she murmured.

Patrick reached in his pocket. “Are you going to run if I release you?” he teased.

She lifted her hand and grinned as the cuff clanked on iron. “You’ll have to see.”

“Brat,” he laughed. “I bet those steps are getting uncomfortable.”

“Not as uncomfortable as other parts of me. Let me go,” she begged. She shifted and arched her back. “Let me go, and let me at you.”

Sim’s cock turned as hard as the steel that held Verity. He held out his palm. “Let me,” he told Patrick. “It will be my first time with her in my arms and free since she left.”

“It feels damn good,” Patrick answered, placing the small key in Sim’s hand. “Be good, honey,” he advised her. “I still like to give spankings.”

“That doesn’t help. She liked them, remember?” Yeah, she was definitely perfect for them. Sweet. Just kinky enough for both her dominant men.

Verity laughed and sat up as soon as the cuff was free. Her gaze connected with Sim’s, and slowly, she lifted her arms. Her brow raised and she waited.

Sim wasn’t dumb. He knew a hint when it smacked him in the face. Quickly, he stripped away the cotton tee. His breath caught at the revealed expanse of her creamy flesh. Before this night was over, he’d kiss every inch of it, including the tiny, square-shaped birthmark just above and to the right of her navel.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the vulnerable juncture of her shoulder and neck. Verity grasped his shoulders, her head tipping back as he sucked at the tender spot. He felt her shiver as it coursed through her. It ignited his attraction into undeniable lust. Gathering her close, he lifted her into his arms. A moment later, he sank onto the plush carpet before the fireplace and covered her with his body.

“Verity,” he murmured as he kissed his way to her ear. He captured the lobe in his teeth then laved the afflicted spot. “Tell me you want this.”

“Yes,” she sighed. Her fingers threaded though his hair as she groaned. “And I want you… Both of you.”

Verity had never felt so right as she did at that moment.

Patrick kissed the other side of her neck. “You know we still like to share.”

She nodded, barely able to breathe. She loved the feeling of being between the two men, and they knew it.

Adjusting his position, Sim hooked his fingers in the top of her bra and pulled down both cups. Verity gasped as the cool air wafted over her exposed nipples. Immediately, Sim covered one taut peak with his mouth, drawing hard and pulling the bud into his heat. Her pussy contracted in yearning at each demanding suck. She cried out as Patrick joined, taking her other nipple. Each man captured a wrist—and she was bound again. Her arms were held above her head in firm grips while their free hands skimmed simultaneously down her torso, the slightly callused skin heightening her arousal as it abraded her flesh.

They worked in tandem as if they were one. How many times had they done this?

She pushed away the thought. It didn’t matter. Even an inkling of worry evaporated as Partick’s teeth scraped over her nipple while one of the men flipped open the button on her pants then rasped down the zipper. Together, they slipped their fingertips inside the waistband of her panties. How could something, so sexual and so unfamiliar in recent years, feel like coming home?

She knew they’d find her pussy wet and needy. Her whole body seemed tight and ready to explode into action, well, more likely reaction. Her nipples seemed to throb beneath their mouths and her muscles contracted, flexing, readying, as small shudders started through her.

The orgasm swept through her at their first skimming touch over her clit. Unexpected waves of rushing pleasure had her hips thrusting upward, searching for more. Her fingers scrabbled at the floor as they continued to hold her down with their hands and bodies, giving her pleasure without letting her move. She was helpless to contain the wild sensations claiming her as the men owned her, taking what was theirs.

Heat rushed to her face, while her body continued to quiver from the torrid, unexpected release.

“Mmm, yeah…just like that,” Patrick murmured. “We want you to have a lot more like that.”

She closed her eyes, falling in with the sensations spiraling through her body. She loved the bondage…being tied up or held down. She’d often wanted it and it had scared her. Funny how she’d started fantasizing about more. She tugged at her hands, wanting to touch the men, but they held her fast. She’d known they wouldn’t easily let her go.

“Relax,” Sim instructed.

“I want to touch you,” she begged.

“Later.”

Their hands on her pussy moved forward, deeper, each of them sliding a single large finger through her swollen folds. Her labia spread for them while she moaned at the invasion. She lifted her hips in the hope of enticing them deeper.

They wouldn’t be hurried.

Verity bit her lip, a trapped cry echoing through her head at the sensation of two hands on her cunt, two hands circling her wrists, two mouths on her breasts, two muscular legs holding hers open, and two solid male forms pressed to either side of her.

Finally, the tips of their fingers probed her opening. Slowly—far too slowly to appease the gnawing need in her middle—they each inserted a digit, the two together feeling too tight in her narrow passage. She hadn’t had sex in so long. Both of them pushing inside was almost too much.

She wouldn’t stop it for anything.

Lifting her hips to meet the thrust, she cried out as they reached as far as possible, their knuckles pushing against the puffy lips of her cunt. Holding deep, Patrick released her captured wrist, but before she moved, Sim caught it in his large hand. Patrick reached between them and shoved her pants down past her knees.

“Better,” Sim murmured as the cool air licked at the inside of her burning thighs. Her knees fell wide, further pressed open by their legs.

“More,” she begged. She needed hard and fast. The first orgasm had been barely an appetizer to start this feast of delectable pleasure. She needed them to fill her.

“As you wish, princess,” Patrick murmured.

The men began a slow, hard-thrusting motion. One reached up and caressed her clit with his thumb while the other stroked the ultra sensitive skin between her cunt and anus.

Overwhelmed by sensation, she squirmed to get away—yet, it was the last thing she wanted. They wouldn’t let her anyway; they knew her well enough to give her that. Still, she managed to get one wrist free. A moment later, Patrick captured it. The struggle only incensed her arousal; knowing she was utterly safe heightened every desire.

“Please,” she begged, unsure what she really asked for. Harder drives, more of their touch and their mouths, their cocks? She wanted it all and more.

Patrick kissed her neck, leaving nipping bites all the way to her ear. “You’re so tight,” he whispered. “I can feel you squeezing our fingers. Mmm…just like that.”

A thumb—his, she supposed—grazed her clit, and her hips jerked upward.

“You like that?” he continued then repeated the motion, drawing a strangled groan. “I can tell you do. Your cream is all over my fingers.”

“Come,” Sim said into her other ear.

“Scream,” Patrick enjoined. He bent over her chest and grasped her nipple between his teeth, just hard enough to make her gasp but not quite hurt. His tongue whipped over the tip, and lightning slashed through her body. Their fingers shuttled in and out of her as she shook, a massive climax rolling through her, holding, building, smashing through her reserve. Their caresses never let up as her hips lifted from the cushions, and her thready cry mingled with the men’s aroused breathing.

They kept stimulating her, even while the orgasm receded and a languid heaviness flowed into her limbs. Gentling swells of pleasure drew her towards the next climax she knew would explode deep inside her body. Already it coiled, twisting ever tighter.

It had always been like this. She wanted more and more and more. It terrified her that one man would never be enough. She’d never be content with one fast fuck and going to sleep. She needed the marathon of drugging climaxes. And she needed this next one…quickly.

But suddenly, they were gone just as release loomed within her grasp. She blinked up at them. Patrick was removing the rest of his clothes while Sim shifted along her body. He grabbed cushions from the couch and helped her to prop up on them. An approving sigh growled from her as he knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs wide. His damp fingers clasped her knees and he studied the flesh laid bare for him.

“Don’t make me wait,” she begged, when he lingered. She reached out and slid her fingers through his silky hair, drawing him to her. “Yes…” she gasped as his hot breath bathed her wet folds. His tongue made a long swath from front to back before his lips took her clit. She grabbed the pillows unable to keep from crying out as she lifted into him. He slung his arm across her belly to keep her down.

Overtaken by heady delight, she cupped her swollen breasts and watched Patrick through a hazy gaze. He stood off to the side, taking in the whole scene.

She bit her lip, studying him. He was the thing of dreams, the embodiment of every military pin-up guy she’d ever seen. He and Sim both made her mouth water with their impossibly wide shoulders and slim hips. His muscles appeared rock-hard and sculpted as he pushed his pants down his thighs. She wanted to feel his bulging biceps around her. And that other impressive mound… Being up close and personal couldn’t happen too soon.

She glanced down at Sim to see him pause and stare at Patrick in much the same way she was. Something torrid clenched in her middle. Sim wanted Patrick as much as she did, and it turned her on more than she could have dreamed. Quickly, Sim looked away from the man they both lusted after and caught her eye. He gave her a quick smile and a wink. This was a secret between them. For now. She knew it wouldn’t be too long before Patrick knew Sim’s attraction. The idea of the three-way reciprocal love sent a flood through her. She needed to see them together.

Before she could think on it any more, Sim parted her folds and leaned over her, drawing his tongue along her crevice once more. Tremors snaked through her. Her head fell back on the cushions, her eyes squeezed shut. So good! This felt so good. Sim’s grip tightened as he licked and thrust into her. The touch, so dominating, reminded her that she’d belonged to these men—and she did again for the weekend. She knew she’d give herself completely over to them until Monday.

The sensation of fingertips along her jaw brought her gaze back to Patrick. He’d moved to stand over her. His green stare probed her. With a flick downward with his eyes, he directed her attention to his white briefs. The thorny tattoo around his upper arm seemed to stretch as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband. The bulge framed by his fingers was magnificent. It throbbed as he paused. As he pulled away the fabric and pushed the garment down his legs, his thick cock rose from a bed of dark curling hair. She licked her lower lip, looking at the glistening tip and longing for that droplet on her tongue.

Patrick grasped the shaft at the base and stroked upward. “Want this?”

Mutely, she nodded. More than anything…

He gave the length a few more strokes while keeping her gaze, but he didn’t seem bent on touching her. Kneeling, he straddled her and captured her hands, bringing them from her breasts to above her head—he’d always been the one more interested in holding her like this. He inched forward until his cock was right in front of her lips. Verity inhaled deeply of his musky masculine scent mixed with the smell of slightly damp flesh and soap. Though he’d showered, his heady fragrance still came through.

Holding his gaze, she opened her mouth. Sim pushed two fingers inside her as Patrick slowly fed her his cock. She groaned as they both fucked her. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the shaft gliding across her tongue. He sank to her throat, but she couldn’t hope to take him all. She pulled back before she choked then pushed forward again. Carefully, she relaxed her throat muscles, hoping to swallow more of him. It was difficult with her awareness divided. Sim’s ministrations pulled her focus as much as Patrick’s cock. Had she died on the way to Daly and been cast into a sexual nirvana? Could this moment last, replayed over and over?

She drew hard on Patrick. He’d give her his release before this was over. He moaned, burying his fingers in her hair and pulling ever so gently. With a chuckle, she let up until she reached the head of his shaft. Quickly, she lapped away the droplet there then encompassed his tip with her lips once more. He groaned as she swirled her tongue along the pinnacle of his cock, flicking at the sensitive spot just beneath the crown. Though he held her hair with one hand and her wrists with the other while Sim held down her lower half, the pleasure she gave him filled her with exquisite power.

Sim pinched her clit, and she cried out around Patrick’s shaft. Sim’s tongue flicked across her folds while his fingers plunged into her. Ribbons of erotic bliss twisted through her as Sim filled her, but she wanted Patrick fully pleasured, too.

Rolling her eyes upward, she studied his face. Eyes closed and lips parted from the sensations running through him, he guided her forward and back on his cock. Her tongue stroked along the thick veins in his arousal, tasting every bit of the rigid length. Twisting free a hand, she reached for his balls. He growled his approval as she cupped the full sac.

Suddenly, another hand joined hers as she fondled Patrick. Sim. She laughed around Patrick’s cock. Her other man was ready to stake a claim. Delighted at Sim’s action, she let her fingers slip away.

“Fuck,” Patrick swore. He surged deep in her mouth. Hot seed spewed into her throat. Swallowing convulsively, she struggled not to moan as Sim redoubled his efforts at her cunt. His fingers pounded in and out. He curled them into her g-spot, sending pleasurable shocks through her.

Patrick pulled free his semi-erect cock as a shattering climax ripped through her. Her scream echoed off the bricks surrounding them, momentarily drowning out the pounding of the rain on the skylight. Then a buzz filled her hearing, muffling everything as a second wave jolted over her.

Patrick reached down and twisted her nipples, heightening the sensations that sizzled down her limbs. Sim lapped frantically at her cream, only drawing more and more. Her fingers fisted into the cushions as she shook.

Finally, gasping for breath, she sank backward and sprawled without a care for ladylike grace or propriety. How had she neglected this for so long?

Before she had time to consider, Patrick twisted to glare over his shoulder at Sim who sat back on his heels and out of immediate reach.

“What the hell, man?” Patrick exclaimed.

Sim lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “What? You didn’t like it?”

Though her view of Patrick was in profile, she saw his forehead crease in a scowl, but he didn’t answer—unless one counted the low growl from deep in his throat a reply. Rising, he scooped her up and headed toward the back of the ranch-style house. She kicked off her shoes, socks and the clothing that had remained bunched about her ankles. From the look on Patrick’s face, she wouldn’t be needing the garments any time soon.

It amazed her how easily she’d fallen into this. Despite the abnormal circumstances and the way Patrick had manhandled her over here, she felt safe and completely at ease.

She should have remembered Patrick’s determination. He’d always surged forward like lightning, tackling everything headfirst, without hesitation. If she’d known he was here, she might not have come back to Daly. The prospect of being the three in their threesome still scared her. She’d fought too hard for her life. She wouldn’t exist for only sex and procreation—well, beyond this weekend. The sex was mighty fine right now.

And she knew she would have come back. Her father needed her. But she wouldn’t have stopped at the gas station. She would have avoided Patrick O’Keefe and Simeon Germaine like they were the plague. Deep down, she would have known this would happen. And damn, it was scary when she wasn’t in the middle of it. Hopefully they’d keep her too busy to think all weekend.

God knew, Patrick’s flesh pressed to her was making it near impossible right now.

To her surprise, he carried her through an open sliding glass door and onto his back porch. Cold rain slapped against her bare skin as he walked to a second door, kitty-corner to where they’d exited and adjacent to an in-ground pool that centered a privacy-fenced yard.

Heat and the smell of cedar filled her senses as they entered, and muted red light illuminated the space that was big enough for several large men to sprawl. A dry sauna. Every bone in her body seemed to melt as he strode across the planked floor and the heavenly warmth seeped into her limbs.

“This is nice,” she groaned, enjoying the sensation.

“I spend time here every night after work. Relaxing. Gathering my thoughts. I turned it on when I went to shower.”

She could imagine spending time here with him. The sweat would roll off them as the air grew more sultry with each touch… Their bodies undulating together as they made love, Sim touching them both…

Verity gasped as Patrick set her down on one of the heated bench. There were two, set in an upper and lower tier. She leaned back against the upper one, while Patrick walked to a stand near the door and grabbed a folded towel he must have put there earlier.

“You weren’t planning to play without me?” Sim said as he brushed past Patrick and closed the door, shutting out the rain.

“Of course not,” the other man answered, a spark of confusion flickering in his face. “Just keep your hands to yourself.” Warily, he watched his friend and stayed near the door. Obviously, he knew it was Sim’s touch that had pushed him and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It would definitely be interesting to see where this went.

Patrick was on the run, but his reaction when Sim had purposefully cupped his balls, told Sim all he need to know. He was gaining not one but two lovers this weekend.

He sank onto the bench beside Verity while Patrick lingered near the door. The poor guy was in a spiral. Too bad. He’d had Sim in a turmoil for years. And Sim was sick of hiding how he felt. This might not be the best of times with Verity just coming into their lives, but the second Patrick had called about her return, Sim had seen an opportunity.

He’d already been contemplating his situation with Patrick for months. With Verity’s return, it was more important than ever. They all needed to know the lay of the land right up front, and Verity needed to know the men in her life were also into each other—well, he hoped Patrick would be into him and that they’d be the men in her life.

At any rate, he knew he got under the man’s skin. He almost laughed as Patrick spent an inordinate amount of time near the door. Obviously, Patrick thought it was safe there. Hardly. Given the chance, Sim would nail him against the wall…right there…next to the door.

He slid an arm around Verity as he studied the man who’d filled his wet dreams since he was old enough to get an erection. When they were in the military, at the height of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Sim had been petrified someone would discover his attraction to his best friend—attraction? It was more like gnawing need. It hadn’t happened, but it had become clear all too soon that he needed to get out and get away from Patrick. It wasn’t until last year that he’d given up and moved back here.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he told Patrick. Not yet anyway.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his look clearly stating he’d pummel Sim if he tried. They’d just see. Better to ignore Patrick for now and focus on Verity.

He turned to her. “But you…” He nipped at her shoulder. “You I bite bite.”

She laughed as he grasped her firm waist and pulled her to straddle him. God, she felt good. How could it be possible to want a man so much yet love the feel of her just as much?

Her hands landed on his shoulders. Tipping back her head and exposing the long, creamy line of her neck, she slid along his engorged cock. The bare tip of his cock caught at her opening. Her moisture coated his erection as she made a needy sound, rocking against him. A condom! They both groaned as he pulled away. With a breath less of control, he’d be in her and fucking her hard, damn the consequences.

His fingers tightened on her hips as he moved her infinitesimally away from temptation. Her breath washed across his cheek as she laughed and leaned into his ear.

“You know what I’d really like to see,” she murmured then gasped as the head of his shaft pushed against her clit. “What I’d really like is to see him sucking your cock.”

His cock jolted.

“Jesus, Patrick,” he said through his teeth, “please tell me you have protection.”

Still scowling, his friend whipped a packet at him, and Sim plucked it from the air. He couldn’t spare enough attention from Verity to deal with Patrick’s irate mood. He didn’t care which of them he fucked right now. He needed them both.

Her eyes flickered with excitement as he held her gaze and ripped open the foil wrapper with his teeth. Quickly, he sheathed himself and lifted her. Even the touch of his hand was too much. How long would he last once he was inside her?

Her breath hissed from her as he lined up with her opening. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders then slowly, so, so slowly, she lowered herself down his length.

He closed his eyes, glorying in the heat of her tight cunt gloving him. So wet. So fiery hot. Neither of them moved for a moment, save for the quivering muscles in her channel as it hugged him.

She was the perfect woman for them—a little shy but a little shocking; sweet but naughty. She was a diametrical contradiction. She’d keep them on their toes, that’s for sure—if he could convince her to stay with them. Patrick seemed content for a weekend. Sim wasn’t.

He knew he could fuck her forever. His breath stalled as she moved over him. Sweet heaven on earth! He wouldn’t survive her. He tipped his head onto the bench behind him and closed his eyes as he focused all his attention on her cunt enveloping his cock. The friction as they moved together. The need boiling in his balls…

His hands flexed on her waist, holding her still, he shoved upward into her.

“Yes!” she gasped as his pubis ground against her clit. Leaning forward, she kissed him. His tongue thrust against hers, claiming her mouth as his cock claimed her body. Already sweat bloomed across their skin as their exertions mixed with the sultry heat of the sauna. She felt so perfect undulating against him, her belly muscles flexing with her movements and her breasts crushed to his chest.

She whimpered into his mouth, and he knew Patrick had joined them. The backs of Patrick’s hand brushed Sim’s chest as Patrick worked his hands between them and kneaded her pert mounds. Was he purposely grazing Sim’s nipples?

Pulling from his mouth, Verity tipped her head back against Patrick. She moaned as he tugged at her nipples. Sim wanted to moan, too. As he opened his eyes, the sight of his two lovers was breathtaking.

Verity arched into Patrick’s hands, responding audibly to his attention to the rosy peaks. Each tug caused a resultant clamp around Sim’s cock. Sim hazarded a glance into Patrick’s stormy eyes. He knew. The man knew what he was doing, how he was causing her to clench on Sim.

Sim pretended as if he didn’t know—damn, Verity felt so good around him. So tight. So wet.

His hands slid from her hips to her ass, adjusting her angle and digging into her feminine cheeks. He spread her, exposing the tiny opening there. It was the only way he’d felt Patrick’s cock and women loved it.

Abandoning, one of her breasts, Patrick reached for Verity’s ass. Sim supposed from her hoarse cry that Patrick was caressing her there. Verity rode Sim harder, clenching, milking his cock as sensations assailed her. His climax loomed, and he fought it, wanting to last and wanting more of the delicious torment the pair unwittingly dealt him.

Still, with a howl, he emptied inside Verity. He reached for her, kissing this blessed woman harshly and claiming her. She was the link. She was special, and he vowed to treat her as such from this moment on. He didn’t want to end this, no matter what Patrick decided.

Verity melted against him, and Sim cradled her tightly against his sweat-drenched chest. They were all perspiring.

“Too hot,” he muttered, feeling a little as if tiny ants were crawling all over him and not wanting any of them to pass out from the sauna. Post-release, Verity seemed positively limp. Her dark hair clung to her flushed face, where moisture beaded on her upper lip and forehead.

Patrick swept her damp bangs from her forehead and kissed her temple. “Want to go on the porch to cool off?”

Verity nodded. “Not too much,” she murmured. “I want you, too. I want the whole thing. The whole ménage experience. Both of you touching me at once. All weekend.”

“You’ll get it,” he promised.

Sim caught Patrick’s gaze over her shoulder. “Definitely.”

If it was the only way to be close to Patrick, he’d take it.

Patrick lifted Verity from Sim’s impressive, semi-erect cock. Hiking her against his chest, he carried her to the porch. She startled at the cold pelt of rain on her skin, and the hold around Patrick’s heart tightened. The droplets beaded on her flesh, streaming in rivulets over her creamy skin. She grinned, not bothering to worry about the rain soaking her hair and drenching her. He’d always appreciated her lack of pretention.

“It’s so cold after being in there,” she said. Goose bumps sprouted on her skin, but her hand was still warm as she placed it in the middle of his chest. Trembling, she cuddled close to him.

“Cold!” she shrieked as he set her on the wide lounger beside the pool. The plastic covered cushions didn’t absorb water and would pillow their bodies. Unfortunately, they were also puddle ridden.

“I’ll heat you up again,” he promised.

“I’m counting on it,” she shuddered, her teeth chattering as he crawled over her and pulled her close. Eager for his turn to bring her pleasure, he settled between her thighs. Her heat beckoned to him, and his cock hardened fully as he settled against her. Sim scooted in beside them and dropped a handful of condoms on the table next to the lounger. Other than acknowledging the protection, Patrick ignored Sim as best he could and focused on the one who was really important here. Verity. Their Verity, who’d finally come home. She’d grown so beautiful…

An unexpected spout of anger tugged at him. He should have seen her growing this beautiful. He should have been in her life, sharing their road, loving her, having children with her—

Her fears about being good for nothing but sex and baby-making taunted him. He and Sim would never have made her that.

He sighed. He was thinking too much. This was sex and he’d dissect things later. That would be soon enough to figure out Verity and what the fuck was going on between him and Sim, because shockingly enough, he wasn’t all that pissed with the man—just confused.

Verity shoved at his shoulders, her brows drew together. A pretty blush raced up her chest and neck to her cheeks. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

What was wrong was that he was being an oddly reflective ass. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Nothing,” he replied, brushing his fingers along her damp cheek. The three of them would be prune-y before they were done. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she bumped her hips upward. “Then show me.”

“Still pushy,” he laughed. “But you’re perfect.”

Slowly, he brushed her lips with his, showing her how much he wanted her, how much he appreciated her as she was. The kiss deepened as their need grew, their tongues growing bolder as they adored each other. Her pelvis ground up into him as her excitement grew. Her engorged breasts pressed against his chest, her hard nipples beacons of her desire for him.

Bending, he drew one of the pliant crests between his lips, sucking and lashing his tongue over it while Verity writhed beneath him. Her fingers bit into his shoulders as a release swept over her body.

“Patrick,” she screamed, arching beneath him with rainwater streaming over her face and shoulders. Her nails dug into his skin and her thighs clamped on his hips. She was completely open to him, and in a moment, God, finally, in a moment, she would be his.

Even now, after their exertions, her fresh floral fragrance and her heady arousal captured him, threading though his senses to wrap like a fist around his balls. Fire leapt along his veins. It pooled at the small of his back, waiting, growing, practically sizzling beneath the torrential showers drenching them. Nothing in the storm was as powerful as the passion zinging between them now—even between him, Verity and Sim, he begrudgingly acknowledged, though the other man was holding back and waiting for Patrick to have his moment.

Blindly, Patrick reached for one of the condoms. Propping himself up on an arm, he rolled it on with a shaky hand.

“Now, Patrick, now,” she breathed, and he couldn’t agree more. Her portal felt like warm, liquid honey as he fitted his cock to it. Slowly, he pushed inside her passage. Even after Sim had fucked her, she was still so tight, and Patrick groaned as she closed around him. The walls of her cunt squeezed him, pulling him deeper, stealing all thoughts.

Finally…

It was all he could think, the only coherent thing in his mind beyond the overwhelming feel of her body and what it did to him.

Harder…

Whether she said it or it was his inner voice driving him to claim her with more force, he didn’t now, but his hips pistoned into her with unforgiving power. Stronger, deeper, faster until she screamed, and even then he didn’t relent.

“Yes,” she cried, her voice echoing in the rain. “Yes…Patrick…”

He leaned in to kiss her, but was shocked by fingers pushing into his hair. They held tight, turning his head until he stared into brown eyes that were so much lighter than Verity’s, so much more wary yet determined.

“I’ve waited long enough,” Sim murmured, and he dragged Patrick’s head closer to him. His grip grew even tighter as he closed his mouth over Patrick’s then immediately thrust his tongue inside. Patrick gasped. Shock and lust railed through him. His rhythm in Verity faltered, but he kept going, the feel of her so soft compared to the hard man pressed to his side.

He felt her shift and Sim groaned. Through his peripheral vision, Patrick saw Verity press her mouth to Sim’s chest, sucking at one of his nipples. Together, the three of them became a single unit, a being created for pleasure and pleasuring.

Apparently confident that Patrick wouldn’t jerk away—or punch him—Sim released his grip on Patrick’s hair. His hand smoothed down Patrick’s neck, the rough skin and firm pressure of his hand that only a man could have. The oddity pulled Patrick’s balls tighter as tingling interest held him in its thrall. What was this? He didn’t care.

Sim’s hand traveled lower on Patrick’s back, flexing and flattening as they continued to kiss—and even that was strange. The male mouth was so much firmer than the female counterpart. It was as if he’d fallen into a strange ring of pleasure and all he could do was keep moving…keep taking…keep giving.

Verity’s channel fisted around him, leaving him gasping as he tried to keep moving. The gloving of her cunt dragged across his senses and taunted his release to explode into her. He needed it. He needed to claim her again. This woman was his. For more than a weekend.

His teeth gritted. His ass tightened as Sim’s hand strayed lower. It felt so good, his two lovers touching him. Leaning down, he kissed Verity hard.

“Come,” he begged, already feeling the on-coming tremors. “Come with me, Ver. I can’t…I’m gonna…”

“Yes,” she cried. Her sex convulsed around him as she clutched his arms, her hips thrusting upward and freezing as he pumped into her.

“Ga…” he choked then gasped as the force of his release erupted black spots in his vision. His face tilted back into the rain, the droplets pelting his flushed skin then streaming down onto his chest. His arms braced him as he tried to come back to himself and give attention to his lover…two lovers. Oh God! What had happened?

Breathing heavily, he looked down at Verity. She blinked up at him, grinning as he dripped down on her. All wet from the non-stop downpour, she looked like a water goddess come to entice him to his demise…and he’d follow her. He always would have.

“Definitely warm now,” she laughed. She jerked as lightning flashed across the sky. “This was kind of dumb.”

Yeah…and he didn’t want to get his dick fried because he’d wanted sex so bad. Sex with Verity. Deep down, he knew he’d do it again too, even if lightning had been streaking down around them.

“Let’s go inside,” he said. He got up and helped her to her feet, noting she was a little shaky as she stood. He grinned at Sim as his friend moved beside them. “I think we tired her out. No running off by her tonight.”

Verity shoved Patrick while Sim laughed. “You hope.”

“I know,” he told her. “We’re gonna keep you too busy to take off.”

“Hmm,” she replied, crossing her arms over her middle, though he knew from the gleam in her eyes that she liked the idea. Her stomach growled, and she frowned at him. “Does the prisoner get to eat?”

Sim came up beside Patrick and slid his hand to the small of Patrick’s back. “The prisoner will get everything she needs this weekend.”

Chapter Four

Verity smiled as she curled up in a chair the next morning and watched the two men sleep. The sun streamed through the window of Patrick’s eastern-facing room, warming her. She hadn’t bothered to dress. None of her clothes were here save for the ones she’d worn last night. She didn’t want to search them out. Chances were they’d be damp, and worse, the guys might wake and think she’d taken off.

Not a chance. She’d told Patrick she’d give them the weekend and she’d meant it. As Sim scooted into Patrick like a puppy seeking warmth, pleasure filled her. Seeing them so close, she knew she hadn’t gotten everything she needed yet. She needed to see them together, but she wasn’t so sure she would. Patrick was obviously unsure of this new development with Sim.

It surprised her that she’d been the one to bring it on—she must have. There was no other way to explain Patrick’s shock. But Sim must have been considering it for a while.

Patrick had seemed wary of Sim after the occurrence on the porch, as if he’d been stunned by his own behavior too and didn’t much know how to react. After the two of them had seen to feeding her—very unglamorous peanut butter and jelly and milk—they’d seen to her sexual needs in Patrick’s California King bed. Both of them had focused completely on her, almost pathologically determined not to touch each other. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought what had occurred earlier hadn’t happened.

Drawing up her knees, she curled her toes into the cushion of the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her chin rested on her knees. In bed, Patrick rolled onto his back, one arm slung over his head. His morning erection tented the light woven blanket.

She grinned. She could get used to this. But where would it leave her? She’d studied for years to become a veterinarian—and not just any vet. She’d specialized in large animals. She couldn’t imagine either Sim or Patrick being thrilled with her running off in the middle of the night to help birth calves or foals. That would be a big part of her work. That and assisting with impregnating stock. Medicating and checking them too.

Working with big powerful animals—her big, powerful men wouldn’t approve, especially if she got pregnant. With these two virile men, it wasn’t an “if”. It was bound to happen. It had happened once before. Her smile slipped as she remembered what had precipitated her terror when she’d been seventeen. She had been pregnant. By which one, she didn’t know but she’d lost the baby before she would have been forced to tell her parents. The guys had known and promised to marry her. She’d seen all her dreams slipping away. She’d run.

That was why she couldn’t stay longer than the weekend. She’d come home to see her parents and see about joining her dad’s practice; she wasn’t sure that was such a great idea now. If she stayed in Daly, she’d stay in Patrick and Sim’s bed.

She needed to be careful. But she’d enjoy this time with them. Her insides felt hollow at the thought of leaving again though. She’d just have to fill herself with the memories of them.

While she watched, Sim edged a little closed to Patrick. His eyes opened and he focused solely on the man beside him. Regarding Patrick with unwavering dark brown eyes, he slid his hand down the man’s torso. The ridge moved beneath the blanket until it reached Patrick’s cock. Verity licked her bottom lip, waiting.

Slowly, Sim jacked his fingers up and down the shaft. Patrick moaned, his hand going down to cover Sim’s.

“Sim,” he murmured. Verity’s pussy clenched at the husky rumble of his voice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sim replied. “You feel good, man… Know what? I want to taste you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. Are you going to punch me if I do?”

Patrick turned his head, and Verity saw the sleepy vulnerability on his face as he looked at Sim. “How did I not know?”

“I’m good at hiding it. Besides, I love women. You know that…”

Verity stayed silent, barely daring to breathe lest she distract them from the moment. Seeing them touching, talking intimately, tightened her heart. She bit her lip as Sim let go of Patrick’s cock then slowly drew down the blanket, revealing a tanned, muscular chest. His mouth followed the path. He paused when he reached the curling nest of hair surrounding Patrick’s cock.

Patrick took several chuffing breaths, his head pressing into his pillow. Verity’s fingers dug into her calves as she waited.

“Yes?” Sim asked.

“Damn it, Yes,” Patrick growled. “Hurry up before I change my mind and decide to punch you after all.”

Sim laughed. “So nice.”

Patrick reached down and grasped his friend’s hair then pulled him up so they were face-to-face. “You want nice, then go play with Miss Verity who’s watching so quietly over there.”

The nerves in her stomach jumped at that and she couldn’t hold in a momentary, self-conscious rasp of laughter as they both turned their heads and looked at her with grins on their faces.

“Of course, we knew you were there,” Sim said. He reached out a hand. “Come here and lay next to him while I do this. You should feel how jumpy he is—”

“Shut up,” Patrick growled. Still, he reached out a hand and beckoned her over. Unfolding from her curled up position, she stood. Without worry for her nakedness, she walked over and climbed into the space beside him. The sheet was cool against her side, but he was fiery hot as she pressed close. She rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled the other pillows beneath his head.

He was so tense beneath her that she knew he wasn’t as calm about this as he portrayed. But he wanted it and he wanted to watch. He’d never do anything like this unless he fully desired it. His heart thundered in her ear as Sim bent over his cock. A gasp shot from his lips and his arm tightened around her as Sim took the tip of his cock.

Verity’s vision blurred as arousal coiled in her womb. The sight of Sim’s mouth on Patrick’s cock was beautiful. And the feeling of Patrick taking it. His taut muscles flexed, his back arching as his friend sucked him. Gently, she rolled one of his nipples to deepen his pleasure. Knowing the response that went through her when he pulled at hers, she pinched then tugged at one of the tiny peaks.

“Shit,” Patrick swore. His fingers clamped into her shoulder. His gasps choked as Sim cupped his balls. She saw a finger reaching deeper. Damn… She’d gasp, too. Her anus tightened as she remembered the first time Sim had touched her there…and how it had felt to have his large cock inside her. He’d been there, every time she’d taken both men. Would he fuck Patrick?

She swallowed to loosen her tight throat.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. The way Patrick was shuddering beneath her… Maybe he was ready.

Sim pulled at Patrick’s sac as he took the cock deep. He sucked in earnest, moving up and down rapidly while Patrick tilted Verity’s head up to him and kissed her. She knew the moment he came, giving Sim what he’d wanted for so long. His fingers tightened in her hair as he moaned, his body jerking. Sim reached over and grasped her thigh, including her.

Moments later, he crawled up beside them. Patrick broke the kiss with her to turn to Sim. It didn’t bother her in the least as she watched them experience the wonder and unity of the moment for the first time.

They didn’t have time to enjoy it. Banging on the front door, along with someone laying on the doorbell, dragged them from their bliss. Was it the friends Patrick had mentioned?

“Any guesses?” Sim asked.

“One or three. I just hope they didn’t bring a gun.”

“A gun?” Verity exclaimed.

“Your daddy, the vet, has one, doesn’t he? So does your daddy, the cop,” Sim clarified.

“Thank God, he’s not the law here in Daly,” Patrick muttered.

“No…” Dragging the blanket with her, she leapt from bed and ran to the window. Looking outside, she met the upward gaze of her mother. She said something Verity couldn’t decipher and a second later the pissed off faces of her two fathers were staring up at her too.

She stepped back quickly. Crap.

“How’d you know?” she asked. “I didn’t tell them I was coming.”

“Small town. News travels fast—”

“Then they’re going to know you lugged me over here,” she groaned.

“Which is why I mentioned the gun.” Patrick climbed from bed then grabbed a black terry robe from the closet. After wrapping it around her, he tugged on a pair of jeans. Sim disappeared down the hallway and she guessed he was doing the same.

“C’mon,” Patrick urged as he shrugged into a shirt but didn’t button it. “They know you’re here and they know you know they know you’re here. Best face the battle.”

“They teach you that in the military?” she asked as she followed him down the stairs.

He squeezed her hand. “They taught me lots of things. I’ll show you some later.” Reaching the door ahead of her, he pulled it open. “Folks,” he said.

“Get out of the way, O’Keefe,” Fletcher Thompson demanded, pushing through the door. Dorian Thompson followed. Her mother, Charity, followed a bit more slowly. Hands laced together as she took in the scene, she looked far from pleased, but something about the irritation in her expression told Verity that her ire was directed at her husbands rather than the situation in which she found her daughter.

Dorian grabbed the front of Patrick’s shirt. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, O’Keefe?”

“Daddy, stop!” Verity cried, grabbing Dorian’s arm.

“Hey, let’s remember homicide is still illegal in Daly,” Sim remarked from the stairs as he surveyed the scene. It was only then that Dorian released Patrick and took a step back. Verity wondered if he was indeed contemplating murder. She stepped between Patrick and the trio who’d just arrived. A mistake. Both her fathers narrowed their eyes at her attire.

“Simeon,” Fletcher growled. “Get over here. You three can explain what the hell’s happening.”

Charity snorted. “I think it’s clear what’s happening. We dragged these poor kids from bed.” She looked around.

When Verity followed her gaze she saw it on the panties that had been discarded on the way to the sauna. Embarrassing! Verity cringed at the heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Once they got there,” her mother added.

“With our daughter!” Dorian blasted.

Charity ignored him and pulled Verity into her arms. “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you,” she murmured. She sniffed, and Verity pulled back to see tears in her mom’s eyes.

“Patrick…um…sidetracked me.”

“So we heard.” Fletcher narrowed his eyes at Patrick. “If I ever hear of you manhandling my daughter like that again…”

“Dad, stop.”

“She likes it,” Patrick muttered. Fletcher growled, taking a step toward the younger man.

She jabbed her elbow into Patrick. “Dads…Mom…I’m coming home on Monday.”

“Nice to see how we rate,” Fletcher muttered.

She rolled her eyes. They were acting as if they hadn’t seen her in ten years like the guys. Her parents had just been to see her less than three months ago. It was when her mother had asked her to come home and help Fletcher with the veterinary business.

“Don’t be melodramatic,” Charity chided Fletcher. “Verity is a grown woman who’s used to being on her own. And you know very well how these boys feel about her. We squared things with our daughter years ago. It’s their turn now.”

“They’re probably the reason she left. I don’t feel comfortable having her here with the pair of them.”

Hello Pot? This is Kettle… Verity thought. “Dad, I’m twenty-seven. Leaving before was about me, not them. I told you that the last time you were in Michigan.”

“You’re coming with us now,” Dorian insisted.

This time, Patrick and Sim bristled. They pushed her behind them, closing ranks at the shoulders and facing down her parents.

“No,” her men growled. Suddenly, she felt like a giant chew toy being pulled between four large dogs.

She pushed between her two guys. “Dads…I’ll be home on Monday. We can discuss my job.”

“There’s no job,” Fletcher muttered.

What? She shot a look at her mom. Her mother had promised to discuss it with him, to clear the path. They were all worried about Fletcher’s health and the strain on him dealing with large animals. Verity shook her head, momentarily stunned. She’d thought she was coming home, but it appeared she’d only be stopping here on her path to another job.

Since she’d specialized in medicine for large animals, moving to a rural location was in the cards for her because of her specialty. If it wouldn’t be here, then some other small place. Since there weren’t a lot of people in her field, her prospects were good most anywhere in the country.

She gave a single nod, cast a brief glance to her mom who appeared completely disgusted with her husbands. Verity leveled a stare at her fathers. She wasn’t budging on this. “I’ll be to your house on Monday,” she repeated. “I promised Patrick and Sim that I’d stay with them until then. We have a lot to discuss.”

“Interesting way to put it,” Dorian replied. He pulled her into a hug, and she sighed lightly at the comfortable, safe warmth of his embrace. Oh to just be the state cop’s little girl once more. Life had been so much less complicated.

“Daddy, I’m twenty-seven,” she reminded, though it was as much to herself as to him. “Mom was married to you two for three years by my age.”

“That was different,” he said.

She stepped back, making a face, and crossed her arms over her chest. “And how’s that?”

Dorian laughed ruefully. “She wasn’t my daughter.”

“I’m sure Grandpa Thompson wasn’t too keen on you guys, either. Please let me do this. I owe it to Patrick and Sim after running out on them.” She shrugged, knowing she was reaching and suspecting they knew too, but she just wanted her parents out of the house. She had little time left before Monday then she had to think of job hunting.

Her mom prodded the dads toward the front door while they grumbled. Fletcher broke away and came back to Verity. She gave him a tight hug. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Grouchy. I’ll make waffles when I get home, ‘kay?”

With a grumble, he let her go. “Watch it, munchkin. I can still paddle your rear.”

In moments, they were gone and she was alone once more with Patrick and Sim. Uneasiness twirled around in her middle like a child’s bouncing toy. She could enjoy her weekend with them, but her parents, even her mom, felt none-too-happy. Familiar guilt settled over her. The same guilt that had prodded her back here.

Her parents needed her, especially Fletcher though he was too damn stubborn to admit it. She couldn’t help but think she’d let them down.

“You okay?” Sim asked.

She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she was still upstairs curled in the chair and listening to the birds tweet their greeting to the rising sun. “I’m okay. I don’t know why I expected it to be roses and light. My dads never particularly got on with you.”

“Because you’re their little girl and we’re the men who will take you away from them,” Patrick said. “Or at least they see it that way,” he added when her eyes flew open.

“Everything will work out,” Sim added, but she didn’t believe it. It suddenly seemed as if she was right back to that place she’d been ten years ago.

“Why don’t you run upstairs and take a bath in that huge tub you were admiring last night,” Patrick offered. “Just relax and we’ll make something for us all to eat. And our friends will be here soon. Remember I mentioned them last night.”

The two other men…making the group five. Her and four guys. That would take her mind off things, wouldn’t it? Just do it, Verity. Have this last big fling then enter the big, bad, real world.

Because she wouldn’t be staying in Daly; that was clear. No one would care what she’d done, and she’d have memories to tide her over for forever.

“A bath sounds good,” she told them. She headed up the stairs, all the joy from the morning drained from her body. Reality sucked.

* * * *

The doorbell rang while Verity was nose deep in steaming water and mounds of bubbles. That had to be them. The other men. Though she was submerged, her pussy tingled and she suspected a flow of cream had slicked her cunt. Excitement tangled with trepidation in her belly as she anticipated the moment. For a second, she envisioned herself as a girl in an old-west brothel, readying for a group of randy cowboys… In this case, it was more a group of randy military men, all wanting to fill her up with themselves.

She needed that.

Her insides seemed to echo with emptiness since her father had announced there was no job. Clearly, she’d be leaving Daly again. She’d eagerly anticipated coming home.

She sat up slightly as one of the guys tapped on the door. Sim poked his head inside. “How you doin’?”

“I’m okay. I was looking forward to settling in Daly again as a vet.”

Coming in, he sat on the edge of the tub. “You know that coming back here would likely mean you ending up in a ménage relationship?”

Not in her delusional little world. She’d grown up here; she knew better. What was she thinking? “Yeah,” she sighed. “Moot point now.”

“Why?” He grabbed the sponge. After dipping it in the water, he urged her to lean forward then rubbed it gently over her back. Bending her legs, she wrapped her arms around her knees while he made soothing circles.

“I need to work.”

“Work here,” he offered.

“Sim,” she protested. “You know I can’t. I’m not gonna open a practice to compete with my dad. I want to work with animals. It’s what I trained for.”

“I suppose…” He slid to kneel on the floor. When he kissed her shoulder, a flutter worked through her. She’d missed this man more than she could ever admit. Not aloud. Not to him. Not to Patrick who she’d missed just as much. “I suppose you can’t put it off, just for a little bit.”

“If I stay, it will make it harder for me to go. It will make it harder on all of us. Let’s just see what the weekend brings, okay?” She moaned as he cupped her breast. His fingers pulled at the tip, and she melted for him. He didn’t play fair.

“Wish I could climb in there and make love to you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think the others would much appreciate it.”

“Was that your friends at the door?”

Sim nodded, still rolling her nipple. “Conlin and Regan. They’re looking forward to meeting you.”

She rested back on the tub, arching her breasts toward him. “And fucking me? Did you tell them that?”

“It might have been mentioned.”

Four. Oh God. Her womb tightened as her pussy throbbed. How did a girl manage four? Could she and what would they want from her? She bit her lip in thought, considering it. She could do just about anything for a weekend, though when she drove away from here on Monday, she’d probably be worn out. Her core vibrated again, begging to be well-used. Four cocks.

Four military men, two active, two former. And all she had to do was report for duty. She’d be utterly surrounded by naked men. “You know them well?”

“I’d trust them with my life. Actually, I already have. They’ve got my six—my back that is. And before you ask, I’d trust them with yours, too.”

“Okay,” she murmured, relaxing. Her eyes drifted shut as she savored Sim’s attention. “Do you know you two are the only men I’ve been with. I don’t know if I can…”

“I know you can, sweetness. Just enjoy the attention and the sex. Give yourself to it. Patrick and I will keep you safe—not that Conlin or Regan would harm you.”

“So what’s the plan?” she asked.

“It’s up to you. Do you want to dive in or play ‘get to know you’ first?”

“Would it be slutty of me to dive in?” she asked. She only had the weekend with Patrick and Sim. She didn’t want to delay anything.

“Around these parts? You know better than to ask that. Relationships move far faster than in the city. Lazy country life doesn’t apply to our love lives.”

“Then…I’d kinda like to meet them. Right away. With me naked in Patrick’s bedroom.” She grinned as she thought of releasing her inner whore. “This one time, the four of you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Honey, are you sure?” he asked, but she saw the interest in his eyes when she looked.

“I think it’s for the best. Otherwise, I’ll think too much. This might get me through it the first time.” She grinned. “Your prisoner of lust.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know… Are you asking to be tied?”

She nodded. And blindfolded. Just this first time. Might be exciting.”

“If…if your sure,” he said reluctantly.

“I promise it will be okay,” she laughed. God knew she’d read enough erotic books with the heroine in a similar position. Except not with four men. And not in modern day. Not with men she knew. Okay, what she’d read wasn’t very similar to what she proposed, but in her fantasies, it was just like this.

Sim stood and grabbed a large, fluffy towel from the rack. “Out of the tub with you. Let’s get started.”

Verity stood and stepped into his arms. With meticulous attention, he dried her, paying attention to get her very dry and very wet. Turning her away from him, he dropped the towel and pulled her to his chest. His hand slid down her side. Sighing with pleasure, Verity leaned her head to his shoulder and widened her stance as his palm reached her pussy. Without waiting for further permission, he pushed inside her slit. She groaned as two fingers thrust inside her pussy. His thumb strummed over her clit, firing lightning along her limbs. Her body relaxed, letting free the cream he desired.

“Yes…I want you so wet,” he murmured into her ear. She rocked her hips into his drives, whimpering as her release drew near. Her breath caught as it crested. Diabolically, Sim wrenched free his hand and stepped back. His grasp clamped onto her waist to steady her.

“No orgasm just yet,” he told her.

“Sim,” she begged. Frustration pulled tight across her forehead. “Please.”

He didn’t relent. “Let’s get you ready,” he said, capturing her wrist and drawing her to the bedroom. He pulled the comforter and top sheet off the bed and tossed them into the chair she’d used earlier. The pillows soon followed.

“Kneel in the middle if the bed,” he instructed. If possible, her arousal drew even sharper as she did what he’d told her. Patrick had been right. She liked it rough and being ordered about—sexually anyway, as long as it was consensual.

Sim dug in the bedside table and came up with a fist of scarves. She almost protested until she saw he had to pull tags off the lot. Apparently Patrick had considered this option at some point but hadn’t followed through.

Climbing up beside her, Sim wrapped one of the silky scarves around her wrists. He yanked them together forcefully, yet when he tied the bonds, she was quite comfortable. She suspected he was, again, being rough for her benefit. Next, he tied one of the lengths around her eyes, blocking out her vision. A tremble shot through her. Was she really going to kneel here naked and bound for men she didn’t know?

The coil of tension in her belly said, oh yes she was. She was so wet, she suspected her cream would reach her thighs by the time Sim returned with the others.

To her surprise, he tied the other scarf around her mouth, working it between her lips to gag her.

She was their prisoner.

“Kneel there with your knees apart,” he ordered, “and don’t you move from that bed.”

She nodded. His footsteps padded across the room and out the door. She heard him go down the stairs. A murmur rose on the first floor, but she couldn’t hear what was being said. They probably thought she was insane. She probably was. But she wouldn’t fight the anticipation making her breasts tight and her pussy tingle with unbelievable expectation.

She forced herself to relax when she heard the footsteps ascending from below. Pushing her wrists downward, she arched her back, presenting herself. Wasn’t that what a perfect whore would do? She was neither, but it helped her bravado.

Verity could hear them breathing. Waiting. She wanted to beg them to touch her, but she couldn’t with the gag in her mouth.

An unfamiliar hand trailed down her arm, and she flinched despite herself.

“Are you here of your own will?” one of the new men asked.

“Of course, she is,” Patrick snapped.

“Verity?” the voice insisted, and she knew Patrick and Sim had told them at least a little about her.

She nodded.

“Good. ‘Cause I think you might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Another set of fingers skimmed over her breast. Two more touched her torso, moved to her ass, down to her thighs. None of the touches were particularly sexual, even the hand on her breast avoided her nipples. They were gentling her, much like a skittish mare. They wanted her calm so she didn’t rear up and hurt someone. She let them, though their strokes had the opposite effect—every trail of a fingertip stoked her arousal higher and made her wild to feel them intimately. Her mind cleared of everything but the mating. She needed them to fill her.

Her hands were trapped beneath her as they laid her back on the bed with her feet braced on the edge. She moaned behind the gag as two men held open her knees. She felt the shoulders of a third against her thighs. His fingers parted her folds, and she trembled as hot breath wafted over her wetness. The fourth man sat beside her. He slid his hand over her belly to her pussy then slid along her slit.

“Darlin’, you’re so wet,” he said. Patrick. He rubbed her clit, circling and pinching it. The orgasm Sim had denied her lurched within her middle, but fear held it back. She wasn’t sure she could find release with strangers. What would they think? Could she lose that control?

Need clawed over her skin. She writhed to push it away, to find relief.

Hands captured her breasts. This time her nipples were the target as the mounds were kneaded beneath expert masters. She cried out when the peaks were tugged, shooting fire to her core. Her pussy clenched. She moaned, knowing more cream seeped forth.

“Perfect,” murmured the man between her legs. It was either Regan or Conlin. She didn’t recognize his voice.

That orgasm—the one she’d fear wouldn’t come—tore a scream from her throat when his mouth finally descended. Slowly, he flicked his tongue over her quivering folds. He engaged both of his hands, holding her wide open for his feast. Patrick never stopped stimulating her clit, working the tiny ball of nerves with the exact pressure to make her crazed.

She jerked as two mouths claimed her breasts. They sucked hard, pushing their tongues over her nipples. The two broke into a freeform of pleasure, each exerting different pressure, one licking while the other nipped or sucked or blew to chill the tip.

Patrick left her side. She experienced a moment of fear—he’d been her touchstone. Where was he going? He dragged down the gag, letting it rest damply against her throat. Climbing over her, he pressed his cock to her lips. She opened readily, moaning as he slipped inside. The sensation of his wide head pushing over her tongue brought a second moan. It was right then that she realized the men were naked. They’d taken off their clothes before coming into the room. Surely, Patrick wouldn’t have been the only one without garments. No… She didn’t sense cloth from a shirt against her thighs.

A pleasant shudder clenched through her belly. All four were naked. All four were giving her pleasure and taking their own pleasure on her. It surprised her that she wanted this, that she desired it so much—losing control, being used, being subject to their desires and what they wanted.

Underlining her thought, Patrick reached down and threaded his fingers in her hair. He lifted her head, re-angling her to better take his cock. She jerked, choking as he pushed deep. Panicking, she struggled for control. He pulled back, but a moment later moved forward again. Her eyes watered as he repeated the action until, slowly, her throat opened for him. Goose bumps crawled along her arms as a sense of triumph filled her. She sucked him, pressing her tongue to the thick vein running the underside of his cock.

Just when she though he might come, he pulled away.

“Don’t,” she pleaded.

“Oh no, honey. I’m not coming in your mouth. We’re all going to fill your pretty little cunt. Conlin. I think Verity’s mouth needs your attention.”

Oh no… Sim had told them her fantasy. She could tell by Patrick’s demeanor. She wasn’t sure if she was horrified or pleased.

She sucked in a gasp as Conlin pressed his cock to her lips. He grasped her hair a little rougher than Patrick had. “Open up,” he demanded.

Her eyes went wide behind the blindfold. Her breath rushed in and out of her. She couldn’t do this… These men weren’t anything like Patrick and Sim.

“Relax, darlin’,” Patrick murmured near her ear. “Con might be the nicest man you’ll ever know. He’s just playing for you. Understand? Sim and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She nodded.

“Now open up for him,” Patrick commanded, his voice harder as he slipped back into his role.

Slowly, she parted her lips. Conlin immediately pushed in, not pausing until he hit the back of her throat. Ruthlessly, he fucked in and out, commanding all her senses so thoroughly she nearly missed the sound of foil ripping.

A muffled scream sounded around Conlin’s meaty cock as Regan drove into her pussy. Even with Sim’s ministrations and Regan’s oral pleasure, the shock of the penetration shook her. He didn’t pause, starting a relentless pummel while he held her hips angled the way he wanted.

Someone bit her nipple, and she felt her world slide sideways. Everything became fuzzy. A roiling mass of sensation tingled around her body, a blanket of pure pleasure. Vaguely, she heard Regan bellow. He stiffened in her cunt. Sparks flew through the disorienting space that had claimed her. She was soaring, falling, exploding.

As Regan moved away, another man took his place. Conlin left her mouth. Another cock filled it. Always there was a man in her mouth, a man in her cunt, two mouths on her breasts as they moved around her.

Verity lost track of her orgasms. Her cheek rubbed the sheet beneath her, and she wondered how she’d ended up this way. Her shoulders were to the mattress, her ass in the air. They’d moved the gag back over her mouth. One of the men knelt behind her. He held the hands bound at the small of her back as he covered her, bucking into her like a stallion covering his mare. She made a small sound, telling him she accepted him. Her cunt creamed for him.

“Not quite yet,” he grated.

She startled as one of the men moved beneath her. His legs forced hers further apart, opening her. The two adjusted her so the head of the second man’s cock pressed to the opening of her well used pussy. She knew she was ready for him.

Shock screamed through her when she felt the man over her press his cock to her pussy, too. No, she couldn’t take two there at once.

“Relax,” Patrick said against her ear and she realized he was the man beneath her. “If it’s too much, Sim will stop.”

Gradually, they pushed forward. Verity groaned at the nearly painful fullness, but they moved slowly enough to let her body adjust—kind of. She knew her body couldn’t really adjust to two cocks in her pussy at once. Tears streamed down her cheeks as they seated to their bases. The intimacy of the three of them united this way overwhelmed her.

“Okay?” Patrick asked.

She whimpered but nodded. If she came now, she might be ripped apart. Sim shifted. With infinite care, he worked in and out of her. Though it felt like full-on, in-and-out drives, she supposed he was only moving fractions of an inch, giving her and Patrick pleasure without hurting her. Every movement pushed Patrick against her g-spot, and despite any fear, tremors started through her. Tension pulled tight in her belly. When Conlin and Regan reached between her and Patrick and pinched her nipples, she exploded. Flaming colors burst before her eyes as her ears buzzed. Her entire body shook as sizzling energy, nearly painful in its intensity, raced along her veins.

And she screamed. She’d never screamed so loudly during sex, yet it poured from her, uncontrollably, until she collapsed and blackness claimed her.

“Holy hell,” Conlin swore, looking down at the woman sprawled across the bed. Sim grinned down at her. That moment when he and Patrick had stretched her, he’d known… Verity was destined to be theirs forever. Now, they had only to convince her. Carefully, he released the scarves around her eyes and mouth then he reached for the one holding her wrists and untied that one as well.

“She’s really special,” he told the two visitors. Gently, he smoothed her hair from her face. He combed his fingers through the damp tangles. They’d have to be careful with her. She couldn’t take them both like that often. They couldn’t always be rough. Sometimes, he just wanted to cherish her.

Patrick came out of the bathroom with her robe and a cloth. While Regan and Conlin made themselves scarce, Patrick parted her legs and pressed the warm washcloth to her puffy lips. Verity moaned in her sleep and tried to curl into a ball. He held her leg to keep her still while he took care of her. Finally, he tossed the fabric away. Together he and Sim drew her to the head of the bed. She curled up on Sim’s chest.

Tenderness filled him. He rubbed her back, contemplating a future of such intimacy. His chest grew tight as he kissed the top of her head. He always had to be so tough and manly. With her, he could reveal the softer side he kept hidden.

Patrick shook his head.

“I should be bloody jealous,” he laughed as he went for the blanket to cover her. Once she was bundled up with a pillow beneath her head instead of Sim, the two men headed downstairs to their friends. Their clothes were at the bottom of the steps. They dressed before joining their friends in the kitchen.

Regan had made some of the sludge he liked to call coffee. He and Conlin stood at the window that overlooked the backyard and the pool. Conlin had his arm around the shorter man’s waist.

Sim grinned. He hadn’t known this about the pair, but he was glad he and, especially, Patrick were witnesses to their friend’s affection. Perhaps it would help Patrick be more comfortable with what was happening between them.

Seasoned soldiers who’d been to Iraq and Afghanistan on multiple tours, they had to have heard the duo coming down from upstairs. They were making a statement, telling their closest friends a secret they’d never spoken. Pretending as if nothing noteworthy had occurred, Patrick and Sim poured coffee. When they turned, Conlin kissed Regan’s temple. All four sat at the table without speaking.

“How long?” Sim asked, knowing Patrick wouldn’t ask and that the guys were waiting for inquiry. It was obvious they wanted this out in the open. They’d been in the same unit for years. It was possible being a couple, albeit secretly, wasn’t new.

“Since right after Kobe,” Regan answered. They all paused, silently remembering their fallen friend. It had hit all of them hard. No matter how hardened they were supposed to be, Kobe was their buddy. They’d worked with him and ribbed him every day.

With one patrol and an encounter with an IED, he’d been gone. Just that morning, they’d been teasing him about his extra-long video call to his new wife. They’d been married less than five weeks.

“It just happened,” Conlin told them. “We were comforting each other then…well, you can guess.”

“I thought he was gonna flatten me,” his lover laughed.

“I did. You liked it.”

“Shit! TMI,” Patrick chuckled.

“We wanted you to know. We’re thinking of moving nearby when we get out.” Conlin squeezed Regan’s hand. “Neither of us are lifers. We’ve had enough of this war.”

“If we’re going to live together—totally out—we wanted you two to know…right up front.”

“Fair enough,” Patrick nodded. “We’re cool with it.” He grinned. “So what would you like to do today—besides sex that is?”

Everyone laughed, but disappointment settled in Sim’s belly. Obviously, Patrick wasn’t going to acknowledge what was going on between them. Sim wouldn’t out him, either.

He’d thought his friend was into what they’d been doing, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe his feelings would be for nothing and Patrick was merely curious.

Keeping a smile on his face, he reached for his coffee. “How about a picnic? Verity likes them, and we can borrow horses over at the Flying D ranch.”

Chapter Five

Verity didn’t know how long she’d been passed out, but she smelled fresh-brewed coffee as she wandered down the steps. Bright sunlight beat down through the living room’s large windows, intensifying the shyness that overcame her as she lingered at the landing.

All the men were sprawled on the oversized furniture in the sunken portion of the room. She swallowed, overwhelmed by the sheer size of them. They were huge…

And she’d had gritty sex with these four, and she didn’t even know names for two of them—well…she knew the names, just not who belonged to which.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sim called. He jumped up and hurried toward her. Pulling her hand, he led her to sit between him and Patrick. Biting her lip, she couldn’t help the curious glances she shot the new men. One of them winked incorrigibly at her.

“And these are our friends, Regan and Conlin,” Sim told her as he laced his fingers through hers.

The newcomers nodded greeting at her. One had hair as black-brown as her guys and the other had light brown, spiky hair and intense, aqua-blue eyes.

Though they were on leave and were dressed in jeans, they wore drab olive T-shirts. Their dog tags hung between well-developed pecs.

Suddenly, she was even more thankful she’d been blindfolded the first time with them. She might have been terrified by the fours walls of muscle coming at her. Even now, she felt more than a little overwhelmed. Seeing the four of them all in one place, filling the space with bulging muscles and oozing testosterone, had every ion of her being pinging around, reaching for one then the other of the group.

She squeezed Sim’s hand, using him as an anchor as she acclimated to the sea of manhood.

The man with the twinkling blue eyes grinned. She couldn’t tell, but she thought he might be slightly larger than the other guy.

“I’m Conlin,” he told her, breaking the silence that had fallen as they’d assessed one another. This was the one who’d commanded her to open her mouth. She felt heat rushing into her face at the carnal memory. His gaze darkened and she suspected he was remembering the moment. “I didn’t scare you, did I, sweetheart?”

“Maybe for a moment,” she admitted. Her shoulder lifted. “It was good.”

“That’s definitely what we like to hear,” said the other man. He had whiskey-brown eyes that picked up the slightest bit of green from his shirt. “I’m Regan, by the way, but you probably guessed that.”

“Yes.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you taste spectacular, ma’am.”

The other three men groaned. Conlin smacked his friend’s arm. “That’s just like you—all crass and polite in one sentence.”

“Well, thank you, I guess,” Verity laughed, feeling self conscious but glad for the light-heartedness around her. “I don’t think anyone’s actually even told me that before.”

Regan leveled a dark stare on Patrick and Sim. “Cretins.”

“Hey!” they protested.

“I don’t know. I think it applies,” Conlin cut in. “Last time I saw you, some girl was kicking your ass.”

“You can’t hold that against me. I was drunk,” Sim laughed. “I’d just met her and her boyfriend, and they both liked me. Kicking my ass was foreplay for her. I think she was some sort of Dominatrix or something. I don’t know for sure. I did know I had a one hundred percent chance of getting laid. Whether of not I enjoyed it was a fifty-fifty chance.”

“And who did you end up with?” Conlin asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Sim retorted.

Regan coughed. “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” he muttered behind his hand, and they all laughed.

“Maybe you can read about it in my next book,” Sim told him.

“He writes military thrillers,” Patrick told Verity. “Apparently, he saw far more covert action than the rest of us. ‘Course, these two are still in and can’t talk about it.”

“Well, we could,” Regan offered, “but then we’d have to kill you.”

“I’ll wait for the book.” She turned to Sim. “Under covers action, you say?”

“I didn’t say,” he said indignantly then smirked. “Sex sells, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“It’s never as interesting as books and movies try to make it,” Patrick added.

“What exactly are you implying?” Sim bristled. “Perhaps you need a demonstration.”

“So Patrick suggested a picnic,” Regan cut in.

“Cool,” she replied, glad for a change in subject. Sim and Patrick needed to work things out, but not publically. She looked down at the dress robe she’d worn down. “If someone will go get my suitcase from my car over at the garage, I’ll get ready.”

* * * *

The group took two vehicles to the Flying D. Patrick had called the ranch to arrange the rides as soon as she’d agreed to a picnic. They’d picked up a fried chicken meal and drinks from Leena’s Diner to bring with them.

Leaving the house, Verity saw her car up on the hoist and ire dodged through her. Damn, Patrick. There was nothing wrong with the Sentra, yet the tires were off and one of the garage employees stood beneath it, reaching up into the undercarriage.

She would have berated Patrick about it, but she’d chosen to ride with Conlin and Regan so Patrick and Sim could discuss what was going on between them. From what she could see of the car ahead of them, neither man was speaking. Pushing aside her worry, she asked Regan and Conlin about their tours and found they’d been stationed all over the world during the twelve years they’d been in the service.

“And you’re a couple?” she finally asked.

“Not out or anything,” Conlin replied. “Things aren’t that liberal yet.”

“Never will be,” Regan put in. “Being liberal might undermine discipline. They’re all about that. I suspect our superior knows, but he pretends not to. It helps that we’re very into women.”

“We’re very into you,” his partner added. “Can’t wait to be in you again.”

“Do you think we’ll find a secluded place to picnic?”

Verity squirmed on the backseat, the seam of her jeans seeming too tight against her clit. How the hell was she supposed to ride a horse? Hopefully, the steed wouldn’t be spooked by the extreme arousal still pounding through her.

“Maybe,” she said. She tucked her lip between her teeth a moment then bit the bullet and let them know the attraction wasn’t one-sided. “I hope so. I remember some places from when I was younger. My best friend, Briar, used to live on the Flying D.”

“Where does she live now?”

“Chicago, last I heard. We kinda lost touch when I left here before—Oh! Up there,” she interrupted herself. “See that turnoff the guys are taking? There’s the road leading into Flying D.”

It was heavily wooded here and easy to miss. Once they got further in, there would be large expanses of pastureland, but before that, they appeared to be jaunting down the road to Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma’s in the middle of nowhere. And she had four big, bad wolves along with her—two of them mighty cranky.

The Flying D was the largest of the ranches in these parts. Most of the spreads specialized in cattle, but the Flying D was renowned for breeding some of the best horse stock in the country.

Soon, the main house came into view. Robert Daly came out immediately, jogging down the steps to meet them—her, it seemed. He made a beeline for her and pulled her into a tight hug. If he wasn’t so much of a brother to her, she might have been attracted to him. A descendant of the founder of Daly, he was just a little older than she was. She, Robert and Briar had essentially grown up together—until Briar’s mom, the housekeeper at Flying D had uprooted her daughter and moved her from the state. Verity hadn’t been around, but she guessed it had torn up the man who held her. He’d always been sweet on Briar.

“Hey squirt,” he greeted her, tussling her hair. His own black hair now had silver in it despite his being close to her age. “’Bout time you came home. Must be the month for prodigals to return to the fold.”

“What do you mean?”

“Briar’s coming home next week.”

Joy leapt through her—until she remembered she probably wouldn’t be here next week. “I hope I get to see her.”

“I’m certain she’ll make sure of it.”

Casually, Patrick pulled her to his side, perhaps silently asserting a claim. She almost rolled her eyes. There was no claim. She’d be leaving soon.

“Are the horses ready?” he asked after greeting her old friend and introduced him to Conlin and Regan. Robert already knew Sim since he rented workspace from him.

“Ready and waiting,” Robert told them with a grin. “The crew’s out fixing jack-fences in the south acreage.” He pointed to the trees and slopes to the west. “If you ride that way, you should have privacy. I put loaded rifles in the saddles. You shouldn’t run into anything but we do have coyotes and other wild critters, so keep a weapon near you. I’ll help you load your things.”

“Glad he didn’t say gun,” Regan murmured near her ear. “I’d be distraught if I lost that. But I would like to sheath it soon.”

She gave him an amused half-laugh. “You’re bad.”

“And you’re very, very good. Con and I never thought we’d be so lucky.”

His words warmed her as they prepped the horses. She knew what awaited when they got to the picnic site.

A half hour later, they were on their way. As if protecting her from some big, bad monster, two of the guys rode in front of her and two behind. That was fine with her. It gave her time to think—though watching Sim and Patrick’s less than good horsemanship made her happy. It was nice to know they weren’t skilled at everything. They hadn’t improved since the three of them had dated ten years ago.

To her surprise, Conlin rode up beside her and plucked her from the horse she’d been riding. Regan moved forward to claim the reins of her horse. She and Con took up the rear, falling back a little as he slowed the horse to a sedate walk.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“Kissing you.” He turned her so she straddled his legs. The saddle was plenty big enough for both of them as he scooted back. Keeping hold of the horse with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around her then slanted his mouth over hers. She moaned as he expertly delved inside. She sucked on his tongue, drawing him deeper. Her body seemed to soften as she leaned into him.

When she pulled back from a lingering kiss, she realized they’d stopped all together. “Patrick and Sim are going to be pissed,” she told him.

“Good, maybe it will snap them out of the funk they’re in. You’re the only thing making it at all tolerable.”

“Thank you, I guess. So…I’m a means to an end?”

“And what a lovely end,” he joked. Then he turned serious. “Really, you’re not a tool to manipulate them. What the hell is their problem?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s not my situation to tell.” She wished she could, especially since she felt as if she were responsible for bringing it on.

“Hmm…” he remarked. “So Sim finally told him? About bloody time. The man’s been pining after Patrick for years.”

She blinked up at him in surprise, “You knew that?”

Conlin laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re old drinking buddies. And Sim can’t hold alcohol.”

“He’s lucky other people didn’t find out!”

“Reg and I protected him. And he rarely drinks which is a good thing. But enough about that.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and drew her back to him. “You know…when Regan and I leave here, you could come with us. My mama would love you—so would Regan and I, of course.”

She gasped, shocked by the proposal. “I-I can’t.”

“I guess being with two guys who love you as opposed to two guys who just lust after you has more allure. At least, we can be together until Reg and I leave.”

“Love?” she repeated, stuck on that.

“Turn around and take a look and tell me they don’t.”

Trepidation rolling in her belly, she peeked over her shoulder and saw Patrick and Sim a few horse lengths away. The scowls on their faces couldn’t be mistaken. They didn’t like that she’d fallen behind with Conlin. They saw her as theirs. Of course, that didn’t mean they loved her.

She turned back to Conlin and shrugged. “This is a full opportunity weekend, right. All four of you can have me.”

“Sort of. And no. They made it very clear that you belong to them and that you’re in their care. And we only have access to you with permission. I just broke the rules. I’ll probably get voted off the island.”

She bristled. She didn’t think so. She might have a connection with Sim and Patrick and she might have a soul desire to be with them, even if it couldn’t happen because of her job, but they in no way would dictate who she could and couldn’t be with. Not when they’d given her Conlin and Regan to fuck and not when there was no commitment between any of them—at least not to her.

Reaching up, she pulled down Conlin’s head and kissed him hard. Groaning, he opened for her. She pulled his shirt from his pants and pushed her hands up underneath, splaying them on his back.

“Maybe if I’d met you first,” she muttered against his lips. “You make me feel…mmm…” She sighed as he cupped her breast. He plucked at the crest while he took her mouth again. He felt so good. She wished she felt more for him than arousal. They could be good together; she could practice veterinary medicine. But that wasn’t a basis for a long term relationship—there had to be feelings. Maybe if they had more time together.

“Honey, you make me feel mmm too,” he chuckled. He nipped her bottom lip.

“Excuse me,” Patrick said dryly behind her shoulder.

Conlin lifted his head. “Oh sorry. Did you lose something?”

“Bad,” Verity chided, pushing his shoulder. Patrick reached out his arms and beckoned her to him, and she gladly went. She settled against Patrick, breathing in his clean scent as he urged his horse away from Conlin. Sim had already disappeared down the path, apparently content to let Patrick take care of things—or avoiding discussion.

Patrick kissed her temple and she understood clearly why she hadn’t been with other men while she’d been away—she wasn’t that busy—and why she hadn’t seriously considered Conlin’s suggestion. She was connected to Patrick in a way unlike any man, save for Sim. The closest comparison she had for it was the sex they’d had this afternoon—so close, literally connected, a little painful, amazingly pleasurable, moving and breathing as one.

It was that unity that had terrified her when she was younger. Why would she want to do anything but be with them when she was so consumed by them? She had the same concern now, but she knew she was better equipped to handle herself now.

“Don’t kick him off the island,” Verity murmured, hugging her arms around his waist.

“It looked like you were ready to vote us off the island.”

“You are the island, Patrick. You and Sim.”

He lifted her chin and kissed her. “Maybe I won’t spank you.”

She snorted. “I thought you weren’t mad. Now, you’re threatening to take away my fun. I bet Conlin would spank me.”

“I bet Conlin would get his lights knocked out if he lifted a hand to you, even in sex games.”

Patrick had always been protective in that arena. Even Sim had never done that. But whenever Patrick had… Her pussy throbbed at the memory. It had always turned out nice. Every minute she was with them, she remembered more of her time with them, more of what it had been like.

“Patrick…” she ventured. “If this wasn’t just for the weekend, if I wasn’t leaving, what would you do?”

He took a deep breath and his arms tightened around her. “I’d wake up with you in my bed for the rest of my life.”

Tears pricked her eyes at the tenderness. And she bit her lip to control her shuddery breathing. “What about Sim?” she asked.

“Sim and I need to work things out.”

“Can you?” she asked. “He loves you, you know? This isn’t a phase. He’s wanted you for a long time.”

Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Patrick had been in a muddle since Sim had made his interest known. For the life of him, he didn’t know what to do. He just hadn’t had time to think about and assimilate to the situation. Admittedly, he realized he had feelings for his friend—feelings he hadn’t before acknowledged. He’d reflected on that the few times he’d been alone today, but he was sure he didn’t feel attraction to other men. Was that possible? To have attraction to only one man? Was he truly bisexual?

He just wanted to bury his head in his hands and think.

Verity kissed his neck, bringing him back to the moment. “You’re thinking really loudly. I think if you get any tenser, the horse will freak out.”

The problem was that he didn’t know what to think.

“It’ll work out,” she said, her fingers moving up and down his lower back. Patrick shifted her so she was straddling him the way she had been with Conlin. The man had a good idea there. Verity looped her arms around his neck, the devil in her eyes. Watching him, she rolled her pelvis into his. It wasn’t an ideal position to stimulate her, but she sure as hell was making his cock hard as rock.

“You’re gonna make this picnic difficult,” he warned.

“Like we’re really going to eat,” she retorted. “I’ve given you guys until Monday; Conlin and Regan are leaving tomorrow night. Other than hydration, I doubt food will be much of a thought.” She sighed, pressing her head to his shoulder and apparently unaware how her mention of Monday disturbed him. “Do you remember how you, Sim and me used to come up here?”

“It’s the only place we could be alone.” With his huge family and her overprotective dads it had been a wonder they’d found anywhere to themselves.

“It was magic up here.”

Magic enough that they’d managed to get her pregnant even while using condoms. It had been terrifying—twenty and expecting a baby. Since then, he’d been doubly careful. Still, he sometimes wished she hadn’t miscarried, though it had been for the best back then. They’d been too young. But it would have changed everything. Would they be reuniting now, or would they have been together for the past ten years? He didn’t really fear that they would have divorced. Despite the plural marriages, Daly was a throwback to older days in many ways. People worked things out. With the lack of women, men were willing to move earth and sky to make their wives happy, too.

He wanted to tell her he’d do what was needed to make her happy. He was ready to beg her not to go.

“Sim’s setting up in our old spot,” he told her, sidetracking his thoughts.

Sure enough, he went around a bend in the road and came upon Sim and Regan. Patrick experienced a strange jolt as he regarded his friend. Why had he never felt this before? In retrospect, he supposed he had to some degree, but now Sim had thrown open a Pandora’s box of things Patrick had never considered and he just wanted to shove it all back inside the compartment then pretend it had never happened. No he didn’t. As he stared at Sim’s firm lips, he knew he never wanted to forget the man’s mouth around his cock.

Sim looked up at him with knowing in his eye. Patrick gave him a nod and that was all that was needed. His heart thudded with relief. This would be okay. Somehow. There’d be negotiation, but they’d find a way. Sim grinned then shifted his gaze to Verity. Coming forward he reached for her and helped lift her from the horse.

“Hey sweetness,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Trying to escape already?”

“Why would I want to do that?” she teased. “I have four men just waiting to see to my every pleasure.” Laughing she spun in a circle then plopped down on the blanket. She closed her eyes, stretching in the sun. The sight dragged Patrick back to tender days gone by once more. How many times had she done this same thing? Verity was like a cat in the sun, soaking it all in. The gold-hued beams, filtering through the leaves overhead, painted her body in moving shadows and light.

He climbed down, letting Regan take the horse and move it by the others. Sitting beside her on the blanket, he drew a thumb over her cheek. “You’re enjoying all this, aren’t you?”

Opening one eye, she looked up at him. “And why not? I only have the weekend.”

“It doesn’t have to end on Monday. Surely, you know that.”

She nodded. “I know you want me to stay.”

“And Conlin wants you to go with them?”

She stared up at him with both eyes now, sincerity in her expression. “I don’t know what you told them about our relationship—”

“Not a lot.”

“Well, they probably see me as fair game. Don’t hold it against them. Besides, I don’t know them well enough to rush off to God knows where.”

He leaned over her, brushing his lips over hers. His chest was tight, clenched with what he had to say. Had his brother felt like this when he’d first seen Rayna, instantly knowing she was the one? And Patrick knew Verity well. They’d hardly be starting from scratch.

Sim sat on her opposite side and bent over her as well. He kissed her cheeks and chin and forehead. Turning his head, he kissed Patrick’s temple, and his arm slung over Patrick, joining the three of them.

“What incentive do you need?” Patrick finally asked her. “Do you even want to stay here?”

Verity could barely breathe. Not because she was closed in, but because she knew this moment would irrevocably change her life. This was the point she’d once feared more than anything, yet now, it didn’t seem so scary. Somehow, everything would end up right.

“Daly is home,” she told them, tenderness filling her as they kissed her anywhere they could reach. “When I drove into town, I was fully expecting to stay. I never expected you two to be here. I was supposed to move back in with my parents—”

“Now, honey, why would you do that? I have a perfectly good bed—”

“One that’s partially occupied?” she asked.

He glanced at Sim. “One that could be triple occupancy.”

Her throat tightened at the thought of waking up between them every morning, of going to bed with them every night, of having fun with them and making a future together.

“Three things…” she told them.

“Shoot,” Sim said.

“I have to have a job. My dad’s pretty much blown my plan out of the water, but you need to be okay with me finding work, even if I have to commute.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Patrick replied. “But you need to get a better vehicle.”

“My car’s the latest model,” she protested.

“Exactly. It’s a car. If you’re gonna commute you need something better—especially if you’re trekking out to ranches.”

“Fair enough, don’t you think?” Sim offered. “We just want you safe.”

Verity nodded. “Second, I want babies. But I don’t want them right away and I don’t want to stop working when I have them.” She looked at Patrick, who’d been raised with a stay-at-home mom. “Okay?”

His lips pursed as he thought and she knew he wasn’t pleased with part of it. Was this a deal breaker? Did he really want her to stay at home making kids and being there for sex? It didn’t matter how much she loved them, she wouldn’t do that.

“Five years,” he said.

“Maybe three,” she laughed, relief sinking through her. “I want a few and I don’t want to be pregnant and nursing for years straight. And I want you guys to work this…thing…out between you. That house isn’t big enough for an elephant to live with us too. We’d get squashed left and right.”

Patrick looked at Sim then sat up, tension straining his face. Sim straightened as well, and she suddenly felt like the battle line between two combatants. A glance to the side showed Conlin and Regan had busied themselves with each other. Con had Regan’s chest flattened against a large tree while he ground into the man’s clothed ass. With them occupied, it was just the three of them. She looked back at Patrick as he studied Sim.

“I’m not ready for sex,” he said. “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

Sim nodded, but she didn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. Neither of them could push Patrick. Being with Sim had to be his decision in his own time.

Patrick reached over her to cup Sim’s cheek. “I’m not saying I won’t try to get there.”

Sim nodded, and both men appeared misty, but that could have been her own eyes tearing up. She sniffled and they gazed down at her.

“You okay?” Sim asked.

She nodded, feeling as if almost everything had fallen into place. The two of them would be an anchor for her—not to hold her back but to keep her focused on what was important to her. Them, her family, Daly… Being a vet was important but not in her top three. Still, she knew that part would still happen even if she didn’t have her own practice.

But she couldn’t verbalize her answer yet. This weekend was supposed to be about sex not commitments. They needed fun and fantasy and learning to function as a unit.

Scooting away from them, she stood at the edge of the blanket. Quickly, she pulled off her shirt and tossed in on the blanket. Her bra followed.

She shivered as the cool May air licked over her taut nipples. She closed her eyes and cupped her breasts. Knowing she had the rapt attention of at least two of the men, she plucked at the tips, pulling and rolling until she heard them groan. Slowly, she moved a hand down her belly and into her jeans. As she knew she would, she found her pussy slick with her arousal. She moaned, pushing her fingers as deep as she could.

She felt a man against her back, his hands clasping her arms. “Mmm…yeah…” Conlin muttered, and she knew he and Regan were ready to rejoin the party. “Get those fingers nice and wet. I want to suck them off while Regan sucks me off.”

Despite herself, another flow of cream flooded her fingers and she whimpered.

“Keep going,” he told her. “Give those men of yours a show. Use your other hand to open your jeans. Give us your orgasm while we watch.”

His fingers were tight, letting her know he wouldn’t release her until her climax overwhelmed her. Following his instruction, she shoved down her pants. They clung to her, halfway down her thighs. She’d never felt so…torrid. She liked the naughtiness of being partially clothed while she pleasured herself for them. Her entire hand was wet from her juices, and she felt her stomach clenching. Her pussy flexed around her fingers. Her thighs warmed as her climax built.

She dropped back her head resting it on Conlin. He breathed heavily as her masturbation aroused him. His cock pressed into her back.

Her eyes slitted open and she found the other men had opened their pants and were stroking their cocks while they watched her. She imagined one of their cocks driving into her while the others watched. While even people she didn’t know watched. While she was the prisoner for their desires.

Regan climbed to his feet and walked behind them. She startled but didn’t slow as he reached around both of them and pinched her nipples hard.

“Ah…God…” she screamed as her cunt clamped onto her shuttling fingers, fire flowing into her breasts as Regan let go. Behind her, she felt Con’s pants sliding down.

Suddenly, he jerked. “Fuck,” he let out on a guttural moan. “Hard, Regan. Don’t stop, Verity. Come again…”

She wasn’t sure she could keep moving…

Patrick saved her from it. He crawled over to her and pulled off her boots and jeans. Holding her gaze, he rose. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom packet. In moments, he had it on. Lifting her, he brought her down on his cock. She heard more foil then hands behind her—not Conlin’s. He still held her tight by the upper arms. Regan… It was Regan. Cool gel-covered fingers pressed to her anus and she gasped at the cold against her super-heated passage. Determinedly, he pushed a finger inside her and past her clenching ring of muscles. All the while Patrick thrust into her cunt.

Soon, Regan as fucking her with several fingers while Patrick claimed her pussy. Coiling, clenching pleasure tore and built inside her, destroying her resistance, doubling her tension. Another douse of lubricant entered her anus then Conlin’s long width pushed inside, so much bigger than Regan’s fingers had prepared her for.

Patrick and Regan quickly learned each other’s rhythms and pummeled into their lovers in unison. As Patrick drove into her, Regan shoved into Con forcing the man into her. Con grabbed her hand and sucked away the essence lingering on her fingers.

Through a haze, she saw Sim move behind Patrick. He had on a condom too. He held up a lube packet.

“Will you take my fingers?” he asked.

Her world seemed to pause and hold its breath while she waited for Patrick’s response. Looking over his shoulder, he grabbed Sim’s head with one hand and kissed him.

“Just fucking do it,” he said. “Do it before I think about it.”

Grinning, Sim ripped open the packet and slicked his fingers. Patrick’s face contorted, and a deep moan growled from his chest. His pace faltered but he didn’t stop. Conlin steadied her as the strokes grew slower.

Grasping Patrick’s face between two hands, she drew him to her. “I love you,” she whispered. He didn’t respond, his eyes squeezed shut and his breath shuddering while Sim finger fucked him. Patrick’s head dropped to her shoulder. Behind him, she saw Sim adding more lube to his hand and greasing up his cock. Watching her, he spread Patrick’s ass and lined up his cock with the man’s anus.

“I love you,” she whispered in Patrick’s ear as the head of Sim’s cock pushed forward. Patrick’s fingers clenched on her hips and she knew she’d have bruises. She didn’t care. She’d only wished they were permanent so she’d have a forever reminder of this monumental moment.

“Push back on him and let him,” she urged, knowing he knew how to do this. They’d both taken her anally. They’d both instructed her. His hands grew even tighter as Sim moved deeper.

“Shit. Shit…Shit…” he muttered.

She brought her legs up around Sim too and crossed her ankles. All four of the men surged forward. She cried out at the force of being in the middle of all of them. Catching the hair at the crown of Patrick’s head, she dragged back his head and kissed him with all the power surrounding and filling her.

Pressure clamped low in her belly. She could barely catch her breath. Blood screamed past her ears. She was going to come and when she did, she knew she’d set off an explosion unlike she’d ever felt.

“Oh…God…please,” she begged wanting it to last longer yet needing the release that hung just beyond her grasp. “Please…oh God…oh…Oh!” she screeched as her body took over and plucked control from her grasp.

She was screaming, writhing, feeling flesh and muscle undulating around her. Patrick’s tongue shoved into her mouth as she heard the men around her losing themselves. Conlin pressed his mouth to the back of her neck. She reached up behind her and held him. Regan kissed her arm.

They tumbled to the blanket in a tangled mess of limbs. Verity couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to, even if they weren’t all mostly connected. She felt as limp and formless as melted candle wax. As the breeze blew over them and the leaves rustled overhead, her awareness drifted.

Distantly, she sensed Sim petting the side of Patrick’s head and soothing him. The moment was so intimate, tears pricked her lids. Patrick caught her gaze, his face filled with vulnerability.

“I love you,” she mouthed.

The tenderness in his face wrapped around her. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, his eyes returning her words.

“Welcome home, Verity.”

Epilogue

Verity was stir crazy. The house was cleaned to perfection. She’d baked enough cookies to supply the Girl Scouts for their next campaign. She’d sent resumes around until she thought she might run out of paper. There’d been no bites, even from regular veterinary offices. She’d gotten top marks; she just didn’t understand the problem.

Fear was beginning to well up inside her. The past three months with Sim and Patrick had been nothing short of bliss, but she couldn’t find a job. Her father wasn’t budging. He seemed to think he was fine, and indeed, he seemed to be. He also thought she should settle down and give him grandbabies.

She didn’t want to settle down until she knew where this search would leave her. Pain squeezed her chest whenever she considered being without her two men. Daly was her home. They were her home.

But her prospects were looking grim.

She stared down at the desk where she often worked. An email she’d printed lay there. A ranch in Montana had somehow heard of her and was asking her to come interview with them. It was only a couple hours north of here. Maybe something could be worked out.

A long-distance relationship? Who was she fooling? No one would be happy with that.

Shaking her head, she slipped the note into a folder as she heard one of the men coming downstairs. She’d left them alone in bed this morning. They were still discovering their relationship, sex and interaction—much of which included her. The way they made sex three-way never ceased to astound her. Bliss…perfection…all those sappy words newlyweds tossed around.

It looked like she wouldn’t be one of them anytime soon. Restlessness tumbled in her middle. It wasn’t the sort urging her to leave. It begged her to settle down.

Patrick came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Morning, love,” he murmured. He kissed the back of her head while one of his hands strayed up toward her breast.

“Never enough sex,” she accused with a laugh.

“Good to hear,” he replied, deliberately misunderstanding. “Come back to bed so we can exhaust you with our never ending supply of love.”

“You mean of hot, hard, pounding sex?”

“That too, but you know what I mean, brat.” He turned her and captured her bottom lip. “We love you more than life.”

“I love you, too.” Tears pricked her lids and she blinked them away. Please, God, she didn’t want to leave here.

“Now come back to bed so we can mark you up.”

She raised a brow, amused that he knew she liked when they were a little rough. “Now why would you want to do that?”

“Con and Regan are flying in for the weekend. You know how those boys are. Sim and I will barely be able to get a cock in between them monopolizing you for the next forty-eight hours.”

“Poor baby,” she teased. “That’s what you get for introducing me to your friends and letting them have my body.” Already, her body was ramping up at the idea of being in bed with the four men again—not that Sim and Patrick didn’t fully arouse her and keep her busy. She’d be happy with just them forever, but Con and Regan added an extra touch of naughty excitement she loved too.

And maybe while keeping them all busy, she’d be distracted from her job problem.

“Give you to them? Hardly. Besides, we want to remind them that they can’t abscond away with you.”

“Abscond?”

“Sim’s not the only one who uses big words.” He lifted her onto the desk and lifted the big T-shirt she wore. Thankfully, she’d gone on the pill so they didn’t have to worry as much about condoms. His cock pressed to her opening.

She leaned back on her hands and opened her legs wide, smiling at her favorite mechanic.

“Fill her up.”

“Jesus, Verity,” he groaned as he drove forward.

“Save a horse; ride a veterinarian?” she tried pulling him down on her.

“Any day of the week.”

* * * *

They decided indeed to go riding—at the Flying D. Since it was a long holiday weekend, Patrick took off from the shop and they had a picnic—a real picnic with a little extra spice thrown in—before their friends came in.

When they returned to the barn afterward, they dismounted and led their horses inside the clean, spacious area. The Flying D owner, Robert, was inside looking at a small group of horses with a couple of his men. His arms were crossed over his chest as he regarded the four animals. He shook his head, speaking to the men.

Her brow furrowing, Verity handed the reins of her horse to Sim and walked over to her old friend.

“Is the equipment ill-fitting?” she heard him ask as she approached.

“What’s up?” she asked him.

“Looks like I need to get your daddy out here,” he replied. “I need him to check out these mares.”

She studied the four. “They have streptothricosis,” she observed. “Rain rot. Look at the way the hair is tufting on their hindquarters. The scabs need to be combed out and their hair thinned. Everything will need to be sterilized to keep from cross contamination. The other horses will need to be checked, too. These are bad cases, and the others might have it but to a lesser degree. Do you mind if I take a closer look at these?”

“Have at it,” Robert said.

Slowly, she stepped forward so she didn’t spook any of the mares. Moving to the closest one, she stroked its muzzle while speaking in a low, calm voice. Gradually, she moved to the side, smoothing her hand along the horse’s side. Occasionally, she’d feel small bumps, but the animal’s skin was fairly clear until she reached its hindquarters. Crouching, she discovered a plethora more scabs underneath.

“Once these are removed and the horses brushed down, I’d recommend an antibiotic to speed along the healing. At least, for this one. I’d have to check the others to see what stage they’re in. This is quite advanced. Considering it’s May, that’s unusual.” She returned to the horse’s head and petted it again. When she turned again to face her old friend, she found the four men had joined him.

Robert cocked his head. “Will they need ointment?”

“Absolutely not. The problem is trapped moisture. Ointment would only hold it in. For some reason, these horses have been damp for long periods of time…”

He frowned and glanced over her shoulder at his hands. “I’ll look into it. I should have recognized the rain rot.”

“It’s pretty bad,” she offered, defending his failure to identify it.

“Yet, you did.” He grinned. “What exactly have you been up to, squirt?”

“That’s Dr. Squirt to you.”

“Well, Doc, why don’t you come to see me Tuesday morning after the holiday and tell me all about your credentials and training? I’ve been looking to hire on a vet, but I didn’t want to undercut your dad. My spread is large enough for its own veterinarian, though.”

She glanced at Patrick and Sim, excitement building in her chest. “I think I’d like that. Eight?”

“How ‘bout ten. Morning chores should be done by then and I’ll have gotten through pressing business.”

“I’ll be here. Thanks!”

He glanced at his horses. “No…thank you, Verity. I think we’ll be great working together.” He glanced behind them to Patrick and Sim. “As long as these two are okay with you coming out here to work with this bunch of cowboys everyday.”

“As long as they keep their hands off and send her home at the end of the day,” Sim replied, surprising her since he was generally the most laidback.

“They’ll definitely behave or face my wrath,” Robert confirmed. He smiled. “This is going to be good,” he said almost to himself. He turned back to the horses and started directing his crew. Verity had no doubt she’d find all the horses in tip-top shape on Tuesday. And she had a job!

She was practically jumping up and down as she exited the barn.

“I don’t have to ask if you’re happy,” Patrick laughed, spinning her around. He kissed her hard then Sim caught her and took over.

“I can barely breathe, this is so perfect,” she exclaimed. She loved the Flying D. She’d get to see her Briar. She got to stay in Daly! And best of all she’d be with her men!

“There’s just one thing…” she said, turning serious.

“What’s that?” Sim asked. Both men’s brows furrowed in concern.

“What is it?” Patrick asked.

“Before we celebrate,” and oh what a celebration they’d have with all five of them tonight, “I want something from you.”

“Okay…” they said cautiously.

“I want the two of you to meet me on Sunday in the middle of Main Street before Conlin and Regan leave. Meet me and most of the rest of Daly. Give me your hands and…” She had to swallow around a knot. “And promise me forever.”

“There’s no getting away this time,” Patrick told her.

She shook her head, loving them more than ever. “No, not this time. I’m giving you forever too.”

The two of them gathered her in their arms, hugging her fiercely and murmuring their love. Tears of happiness streamed down Verity’s face. She’d finally found her way home… She’d never be lost again. These men had always been here and they’d forever fill her soul.

About the Author

When it comes to books and movies, Brynn has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything goes. And it just might in her books.

She lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humor her and let her think she's a goddess...as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn has conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country and enjoys mentoring and meeting new people.

According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to an eclectic collection of music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband, Mr. Inspiration, who puts up with a lot in the name of research.

Brynn loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.brynnpaulin.com.

Also Available from

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