Dennis, Josie - Wild Heights [Classics Rekindled 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“It’s good to have the gentlemen back among us.”

Cathy started then turned to Mrs. Middleton. A matron who seemed to take the care of Highmoor in her own hands, she had always been kind to Cathy. That was, however, before her own daughter came of age. Eligible gentlemen were rare in their part of Yorkshire, and Clarisse Middleton was seventeen after all.

“Indeed, Mrs. Middleton.” Cathy smoothed her skirts, watching as Edward escorted Clarisse into the dance. Anger curled in Cathy’s belly. “Clarisse looks lovely this evening.”

“Doesn’t she? That dress is from London. Mr. Middleton spares no expense where our darling girl is concerned.”

Cathy shrugged off that comment. Her own attire was fashionable and costly, from a French
modiste
in London. Clarisse did look well in her gown, though. The four years separating them gave the girl a blush of youth Cathy feared was slipping away. Clarisse was fresh and rosy while Cathy has been rusticating at the manor.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mrs. Porter approach Henry. The widow was notorious in their little hamlet, though folks seemed more titillated than terse when recounting the woman’s exploits. Pretty though past thirty, the red-haired woman grasped Henry’s arm as she leaned her body closer to his. Her ease and confidence were clear, attributes Cathy herself felt woefully lacking.

She felt as though she lacked both youth and experience, more’s the pity. How could she hope to keep Henry and Edward’s attentions for long? Her fists clenched. How dare Mrs. Porter gaze at Henry with carnal invitation clear in her eyes!

“May I entice you into the dance, Miss Earling?”

She started then turned to find Mr. Hatfield standing before her. A widower with three small children, he was rarely out in company. He was pleasant with even features, but no man to tempt her from her two preferred beaux. She had promised Henry and Edward to keep herself to only them. They did not keep themselves to her this evening, did they?

“I should enjoy that, Mr. Hatfield.”

He took her hand and led her out onto the floor. She would not look at Henry or Edward. She would focus her attention on the steps and strive to put them out of her mind, but Edward’s voice reached her ears, as did Henry’s laughter.

Gritting her teeth, she accepted defeat.

* * * *

Henry stepped into the parlor of Thistle Grange, shucking his jacket to drape it carelessly over the nearest chair. “Tonight settled it for me.”

“Indeed?” Edward poured two drinks, handing one glass to Henry. “I admit I am growing restless, delaying our seduction.”

“What would you have preferred?” Henry took a long sip. “Both of us dance with her at the same time? I could scarcely bear the brush of her hip against my cock.”

“I, as well.” Edward drained his glass. “I had to dance with that simpering girl, that…Middleton chit. That shriveled my bits.”

“She is on the hunt, to be sure. She had better look elsewhere than the Grange for her future.”

“I want none but Cathy here with us, Henry. Mmm, she looked delectable tonight. Her dress clung to her curves. Naughty girl dampened her chemise.”

“I watched her as you danced with the Middleton girl. Her eyes flashed with jealousy.”

Edward nodded. “And I saw as her hands fisted in obvious pique when Porter’s widow flirted with you.”

“Her hands.” Henry let out a whistle. “I’d far rather have her hand fisted around my cock.”

Edward smiled, settling in the chair beside the cold hearth. “What is our next move, then?”

“We cannot let her stew in her jealousy. I fear we do not have that sort of time.”

“Hatfield.” Edward sneered. “How dare he make cow eyes at our girl. We cannot let her throw her life away in marriage to that bore.”

“Well, she will not fathom the thought of the three of us together forever, Edward. Not with matters as they are at present.”

“True. That sharp mind of hers will not accept it until her delectable body does.”

“We have to prove to her that the two of us can be satisfied with only her.” Henry set down his glass and leaned forward. “And she with only the two of us.”

“Tomorrow, then. We will take her on a picnic. On the moors, I think.”

“Cathy loves the moors. Capital notion. Wine and cheese and fruit.” Henry winked. “Spirits and foods we eat with our hands. Quite sensual.”

“Strawberries, Henry. Imagine her soft lips parting for the fruit, her perfect teeth biting into its flesh as juices run down her pretty little chin.”

Henry closed his eyes for a moment, imagining Cathy’s lovely mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. “Send a note round in the morning.”

Edward could apparently guess what Henry was thinking and let out a chuckle in response.

* * * *

“A picnic?” Cathy took the note from Maggie. “They have invited me to a picnic?”

“I daresay with the two of them in attendance, there is no need for your maid to accompany you.”

“I should say not,” Cathy murmured. An afternoon alone with Edward and Henry? Her body flushed hot.

“Although, the sky seems cloudy this morning,” Maggie went on. She folded her arms. “Perhaps you should forgo this outing today, Miss Cathy.”

“I will not. They thought enough to invite me, Maggie. No doubt they have arranged the food and such. I shall not disappoint them.”

“Promise me you will come home should it rain?”

“Oh, pooh.” Cathy waved a hand. “I declare the sun shall be with us for the whole of our outing.”

“You always were a determined child. Why should the weather not bow to you as well?”

Cathy grinned, settling on the couch to await their arrival.

Soon she was climbing over the crags and bracken with them, higher and higher until Edward declared they’d found the perfect spot. Henry concurred, setting their basket on the ground before her.

Withdrawing a blanket from within, he opened it with a flourish and set it down. “What say you, Cathy?”

“Perfect indeed,” she said, throwing her arms wide. The air was brisk, holding a snap of salt from the sea to the east. The moorland was awash in purple, heather blooming as far as her eyes could see. Clouds threatened above, however. Rolling in dark and gray from the coast.

“Blast Maggie, anyway,” she cried.

Edward chuckled. “What has Maggie done to raise your ire this afternoon?”

She tilted her chin. “She threatened rain when I wanted it sunny and clear.”

Henry winced as a fat drop of rain landed on his cheek. “Blast Maggie, indeed.” He grabbed up the blanket and basket. “I fear she was correct.”

The skies opened with a downpour, the winds whipping her skirts about her legs as they looked about for escape.

“Where to?” Edward called over the wind.

She dashed the rain from her cheeks, lifting a wet hank of hair from her eyes. “The hunting lodge.”

Henry stood still then nodded. “Your father’s?”

“Yes,” she shouted back.

Going as fast as they dared over the slippery crags, they hurried off in the direction of her late father’s hunting lodge. Maintained by the manor’s servants, it would provide perfect shelter this stormy afternoon.

Edward rooted among the scrub near the thick oak door, finding the key nestled inside. “Ah, some things do not change!”

Henry laughed and held Cathy close. “Do hurry, Edward.”

The wet blanket he used to cover her was poor protection, but his arm felt warm against her chilled flesh. Her teeth chattered as she gave a shiver. “I am all right,” she stammered.

Edward opened the door, and Henry ushered her inside. The place smelled a bit musty and she sneezed.

“A fire, Henry,” Edward said. “We cannot let our girl catch her death.”

“Do not fear for me,” Cathy said. “I am made of sterner stuff.”

Henry laughed as he rooted through the firewood. “Good and dry. Should burn well.”

Edward struck a flint and lit a lamp on a nearby table, illuminating the one-room lodge with a soft glow. “I believe this shall suit quite nicely.”

Henry stood, brushing his hands on his breeches as he looked about. His gaze met Edward’s. “Indeed.”

Once again she sensed that strange flicker of knowledge pass between them. “What was that look?”

“Wine!” Edward declared.

Henry poured and she drank, the wine doing little to warm her. Her clothes were soaked. Edging closer to the growing fire, she attempted to absorb some of its heat. Thunder crashed as rain continued to lash the roof.

“Out of those clothes, love,” Henry said.

His softly spoken demand sent a stab of heat through her center. “Henry.”

“You are soaking wet,” Edward said. “As are we. Surely three friends as close as we have no shyness.”

The thought of the two of them stripped to their skin made her mouth go dry. She could not make her frozen fingers move, however. Watching them strip off their boots and dripping clothes made her burn hotter than the fire at her back.

Soon they wore nothing but their breeches. They were both so beautiful, limned by the fire. They were nearly identical in build. The color of the hair on their sculpted chests was the only difference she could see. Their damp breeches did nothing to hide their genitals. She stared from one to the other, seeing the thick flesh outlined by the wet cloth.

“Do you like what you see?” Henry teased.

Her eyes jerked to his face, seeing the grin there. Her cheeks flamed, but she couldn’t deny that she did. She drained her glass, and Edward refilled it.

“Here, Cathy.” He made her drink that glass as well then took it from her shaking fingers. “Let us get you out of these wet clothes.”

She stood as he eased the blanket from her shoulders while Henry began to unlace her dress. His fingers seemed unaffected from the cold as the dress soon gaped open. Gasping, she held it to her bosom.

“Ah, Cathy.” Henry brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. “I daresay that bashfulness will be gone once you surrender to the heat.”

He went to work on her stays as Edward lifted first one foot then the other. His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he removed her damp stockings. More wetness flooded her flesh in response.

“Come,” Henry said once she was stripped to her chemise. He eased her to the soft rug before the fire. “Let us see that hair of yours in the firelight.”

He ran his fingers through the tangled mass, kneeling behind her as he spread the locks to catch the warmth. His fingers kneaded her scalp and, drowsy, she leaned back against him and closed her eyes with a sigh. His scent filled her nose, though another soon mingled with his.

Edward bent close, running his hands up and down her legs. “How does that feel, love?” His thumbs massaged the arch of each foot, wringing a moan out of her. “You are splendid, do you know that?”

She could not make herself speak, lost in sensations. She opened her eyes and saw Edward bent over her, his smoothly muscled back compelling. Henry’s hands were on her breasts now, as in her dreams. He cupped her, lifted her, and his thumbs brushed her nipples as she watched.

Edward kissed her and she opened her mouth to his tongue. Henry nuzzled her neck, her throat, and she reached one hand up to stroke his hair.

“Our Cathy,” Henry rasped. He sucked in a breath. “Your smell.” His tongue traced over her skin. “Your taste.”

Henry’s rough voice scraped over her body, sending shivers through to her core.

Edward eased her chemise off her shoulders, baring her breasts. “Your breasts are magnificent.”

The sound of Edward’s voice was smooth, warm. She watched as he studied her. Heat was clear in his gaze and her nipples began to ache. As she stared at him his mouth moved close to one throbbing nipple. “Edward…”

He took the nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as sparks shot over her body. Henry kissed her now, his tongue tangling wildly with hers as he let out a compelling moan. Edward switched to her other breast, and Henry’s hand took over to tease the one he’d abandoned. That secret flesh between her legs began to throb and pulse in tune to their ministrations. “Oh!”

Edward lifted his head. “What do you want, Cathy?”

“I want…” She could not form the words. She’d dreamed of the two of them for so long, just as they were at this moment. What did she want? Their hands and mouths on her put her in mind of such desires that she dared not ask for them aloud.

Edward lifted her chemise, baring her legs to their apex. “Open for me.”

She froze, but Henry stroked his large hands over her thighs. “Open, love. We need to see you.”

Edward’s graceful fingers parted her, and she realized her drawers had been removed at some point.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Henry breathed. “I knew it would be.”

“So soft and wet.” Edward stroked his fingers through her curls. “See how you swell?”

Her cheeks burning, she still could not look away as he began to play with her. “I dreamed of this,” she murmured.

Edward froze then resumed his tantalizing motions. “You dreamed of?”