Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (37 page)

Josh dropped his head. “Mrs. McLeod,” he murmured, “I have plans for you. Very specific plans. I’m not going to leave this building without you. Mrs. Potter can give me a shave and haircut while you eat something hot.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “It’ll take time for your bathwater to heat.”

“A hot bath?”

He nodded. A sly smile curved up one corner of his mouth. “Mr. Potter was built like me. He got himself a tub big enough for him to be comfortable.” His smile widened. “I think we’ll both fit in it just fine.”

He opened the door and escorted her inside before she could reply. Though it was cold outside, her cheeks, and other parts, were flushed with heat. Her heart hadn’t slowed any, but it was pounding in eagerness this time.

“Good evening, Mrs. Potter,” said Josh. “Did you get my message?”

A woman Lily Thatcher’s age sat by the fire. She nodded briskly, set down her mending, and rose. “Water’s almost ready. Supper’s on the stove. Sit down, Mrs. McLeod, and I’ll set it out.” She looked up at Josh and sighed heavily. “I see I’ll be needing to sharpen my tools when I’m done with you. Set yourself down in that chair and keep your stilts out of my way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sophie pressed her lips together so she didn’t snicker at Josh’s sheepish look. He removed her coat and seated her before he took his own seat and carefully tucked his long legs under the chair. The delicious aroma of fresh bread and beef stew made her realize how hungry she was.

“This smells wonderful!”

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Potter. “Your man can have some when he looks decent enough to eat at my table.”

“My man?” Sophie’s shocked eyes met Josh’s laughing ones. “We’re not married.”

“I’ve got eyes, girl, and I’ve met these three scallywags before. My husband used to give me the same look Joshua Gibson is giving you. And we hadn’t said anything to a preacher yet, either.” She picked up her shears, walked behind Josh, and pushed his head forward so his chin hit his chest. Chunks of brown hair began falling to the floor. She gave Sophie a big wink. “There’s a reason you’ve got the room farthest from mine. It also has the biggest bed. Now get that stew inside you, girl. You’ll need your energy tonight!”

Mrs. Potter gave Josh a stream of information while she snipped and Sophie ate. Josh responded with the information about Mr. Isaac being Buford Hames.

Sophie dozed in the padded chair by the fire while Josh was shaved. She felt safe and secure. She was warm and her belly was full. She drifted off. Sometime later warm arms lifted her from the chair. A soft cheek nuzzled her own. She floated across the room. She opened her eyes when Josh released her.

“I want you naked.”

She blinked, still half-asleep. Josh, freshly shaved and with his hair trimmed, was even more handsome than she’d imagined. She stared at the sight. He lowered his eyebrows, crossed his arms, and gave her That Look.

“Strip or I’ll rip that pretty dress right off you.”

She was instantly awake. He’d done it once already, and she didn’t doubt he’d do it again. Her fingers flew as she stripped everything off. He watched like a hunting cat expecting a rabbit to peel off its own fur to make an easier meal. When she was down to her shift, he began removing his own clothes. They ended at the same time.

Her nipples pointed toward him, just as his cock jutted toward her.

“I’m going to wash every inch of you,” he crooned. “And then I’m going to dry you, just as slowly. And then, Mrs. McLeod, I am taking you upstairs to bed.”

* * * *

Josh tucked the quilts around the woman who would soon be his wife. He’d hadn’t planned for her to fall asleep against his shoulder as soon as they laid down. But she’d been through a lot, and done it on little food or sleep. They’d have many years to make up for tonight. She sighed and snuggled closer. He lifted his head to kiss her shoulder. A ghost of a smile crossed her face.

This is what he wanted. Contentment. Peace. Love.

Always before he’d put off sleep to chase down witnesses, follow loose ends, and make the case as tight as possible. But all he wanted was this woman’s soft body lying on his. He listened to her breathing. One day they’d listen to their babies the same way, with wonder and joy.

He had a few hours before Max and Sam arrived. They’d think he was doing all the things he’d planned. It was just as well that she slept. It was time he and his brothers discovered, together, this new life with Sophie.

What would it be like to see one of his brothers loving his woman? Could he watch as Sam filled her pussy, or Max took her ass? Hell, both would want to fill her at the same time. Could he stand that?

Of course he could. As long as it was what Sophie wanted, he could accept anything. She’d be his wife.

His
.

He would share her with the other two people most important in his life. The brothers who’d helped him survive their parents, and then shown him how to be a man. He owed Max his life many times over. He’d saved Max as well, and Sam once or twice. They were brothers. That was what family did.

And now their family numbered four.

He rested his hand on Sophie’s soft belly. How soon before it numbered five?

Mrs. Potter, wearing a white mobcap and long nightgown, went back to sleep right after letting Sam and Max in. She’d left a lamp burning as well as supper and a bath. Their standing agreement was that she’d fill the bath and they’d empty it in the morning.

“Josh would’ve made sure every touch of another man was scrubbed from Sophie’s skin,” said Sam. He stripped and climbed in the cool water while Max filled his plate with stew. He’d finished when Sam splashed his way out. They switched places, finished, and carried their clothes and boots upstairs wearing nothing but drying cloths around their waists. Their cocks stood out, hard and proud and eager, leading the way. They knew where to go as they always stayed in the far back room. It was the largest, with the biggest bed. The window also looked over a shed which was well constructed to allow heavy men to climb on its roof.

“You think Josh tired Sophie out and we’ll have to wait until morning?” asked Sam.

“If he did, I might have to kill him.” Max only realized what he said when Sam choked out a laugh. “I expect Josh would realize Sophie was too tired to play,” he said, trying to cover over his immediate response. “She should be ready to have some fun now.”

“I’m tired, but I don’t plan to get any sleep for some time.” Sam elbowed Max in the ribs and took the stairs two at a time.

Max kept plodding, lamp in one hand and clothes in the other. Let Sam wear himself out. In a few minutes there’d be one woman and three men in that bed. He’d never shared a woman and, as far as he knew, neither had his brothers. He’d just let things happen and see where it went.

They lay as Max expected, with Josh cuddling Sophie to his front. His head was up, but as soon as Max closed the door he lay back again.

“All done?” asked Josh. He always woke up fast, though he could fall asleep again quickly if there was no danger. He didn’t look sleepy.

“The work is,” replied Sam. “Now for the fun.”

Josh sat up. Sophie opened her eyes, looked at Max and Sam, and smiled a welcome.

“Not just yet,” said Josh.

Max heard the stubborn determination in his voice. Was this where he told his brothers he was keeping Sophie to himself? Sam tossed his clothes and boots in the corner.

“What’s this about?” Sam scowled, arms crossed over his chest. His bare feet were set, his body tense, ready to fight.

“Sophie’s agreed to marry me.”

“And?”

“And so we have to tell her about our parents.”

“Now?” Sam looked down. “Just thinking about it makes me droop.”

“Now.” Josh leaned his back against the wall. He tugged on Sophie until she settled between his bent knees. Sam ripped off his towel and climbed on the bed to sit at Josh’s left. He tried to kiss her, but Josh growled a warning.

“Sophie will make a good mother because her parents loved her,” explained Josh. “She’s got to know that ours…” His words petered out.

“Didn’t,” said Max. “They were as warm and welcoming as a pair of rattlesnakes, but they were all we had. We never saw anyone else, and didn’t know life could be different. But when we left, we swore our children’s lives would be different.”

He set the lamp on the table, his clothes on the floor, folded the towel over a chair to dry, and settled to Josh’s right. He ignored his brother’s warning and kissed her forehead.

“Max gave up food for us, took too many blows to protect us, and tried to comfort us when he was in even more pain,” said Sam. “We owe him our lives, many times over.”

Though he used a matter-of-fact tone, Max heard the pain under his words. It had been part of their lives since birth. It stopped now.

“Might as well start at the beginning,” said Max. He sighed in resignation. “I’m sure our father killed the people who built the cabin we lived in. I don’t remember living anywhere else, but he was too lazy to do all that work.”

“He was a vicious, lowdown, son of a—”

“Mother was worse,” said Josh, interrupting Sam. “She would say Max did things so he’d get mad.” He winced. “I still remember the hissing sound of Father’s belt sliding through his pants as he roared about what he’d do to Max.”

“Your mother didn’t protect you?” asked Sophie.

“Protect us?” replied Sam, his voice high with scorn. “She’s the one who made up lies so he’d beat Max!”

“He used to beat her, until she figured I was old enough to take it instead,” said Max. He took Sophie’s hand, needing her touch before he could speak. “I could take the physical pain, but it was my mother’s eager anticipation of my father hitting me that was so hard to bear.”

She squeezed his fingers. It encouraged him to bare his soul.

“That first time, I ran to her for comfort. I was terrified and in more pain than I’d ever imagined possible. He’d folded his belt and hit me. I remember him saying he’d give me one for each miserable year of my life, so I guess I was three years old. He didn’t hold back.”

He closed his eyes. “I’ll never forget the look she gave me when I begged for help. She shoved me away. I fell to the floor and she laughed. She said she never wanted me, but I could be useful.”

“Oh, Max,” sighed Sophie. “I want you.”

“One of my first memories,” said Josh, “was hiding behind the door because she was screaming. Father liked to make her scream. I saw her pull away and shove Max at him, saying to beat him instead.”

His breath shuddered as he released it. He had tears in his eyes when he turned to Max.

“I’ve never talked about this, but every time you drive me up the wall with your plans and charts, I remind myself that you did so much to protect me. The least I can do is listen and support you.”

Max nodded, accepting the apology and explanation. It was a long time ago, a time he’d hoped to forget. But Josh was right. Talking about it, bringing it into the open, was like scraping the top off a festering wound. It hurt like hell, but the pus had to be squeezed out before the wound could heal.

They all had wounds. This would start the healing, and bring them together.

“You could have run away, if it wasn’t for me,” said Josh. “Instead, you stayed in that hellhole until you were sixteen.”

“Those last few years were the worst,” admitted Max. “We were big enough to do the work of a man so Pa would do the hunting while we did the rest. We’d come home and find him raging over something Ma had told him.”

“Lies,” said Sam, spitting the word like acid. “He’d stomp toward us with fire in his eyes, his big hands already unbuckling that thick leather belt.”

“It had a big buckle,” added Josh.

“That first time we begged him to stop,” said Sam. “We told him she lied, but he only roared louder. I looked at my mother and found her smiling. It happened about once a month after that. And never once had Max, or any of us, done what she said. But our father never doubted her, even when we showed him that we’d done the things she said we’d forgotten.”

“What did you do?” Sophie asked.

“Nothing,” replied Sam, heaving a sigh. “We didn’t know we had a choice. When he was finished beating on us we’d be sent to the barn to do chores as if nothing had happened. We knew there’d be no supper, and that we had to stay in the barn until after morning chores.”

“I remember lying on my stomach with my brothers,” said Josh. “We’d all be in pain, but none of us would say a thing. It was as if it didn’t exist.” He ran his fingers up and down Sophie’s arm. “I don’t know why we didn’t gang up on him.”

“Because in our minds he was the law,” answered Max. This was the time for secrets to come out, so he finally spoke up. “Do you remember the way Mother licked her lips when that belt came off? How eager she was to watch him beat us?”

“She always counted the blows,” said Sam. “If she said one of us flinched or tried to avoid being hit, she’d tell him to start over. We always got more than the number he said we deserved.”

Max needed to finish what he’d started to say. “Either of you remember the sounds that came from their cabin afterward?” He swallowed to keep the bile from rising. “Now I know why he roared that way, and she screamed. At the time I wondered why the noises sounded different.”