Overcome (9 page)

“You keep walking like you are, and you won’t make it to the couch, woman.”

She flipped him off over her shoulder, and Marc barked out a laugh. “Don’t put ideas in my head, either.”

He was hard and realized he’d been hard since she’d driven into the lot. There was really nothing he’d rather do then strip her, spread her legs, taste her, and then plunge inside her heat.

“Ah ha! I found it.”

It was going to be a long night. Marc retrieved the cooler and followed the sound of her voice while she continued to talk to herself, only to round the corner and find her very fine ass in the air as she bent over the DVD player.

“You’re killing me.”

She wiggled said fine ass and threw a glance of pure minx over her shoulder a second before jerking upright, her cheeks flaming red. “Oh, my God. You all have corrupted me. I am so sorry. I don’t act like this normally. I swear. It’s like I can’t help it.”

“It’s not bothering me any, sweet.” Well, not bothering him other than the erection currently trying to dig its way out of his jeans. He was suddenly glad he’d traded the track pants for jeans when he’d gotten home from school earlier, otherwise she’d see the evidence of his horniness tenting his pants.

Behind her, the familiar sounds of
Clue
filled the room.

“Sorry. You made me think of it.”

“It’s perfect.” He put the cooler on the table and noticed the boxes of stuff packed. Made it hard to see who she was when all her things weren’t out. No pictures on the wall, no knickknacks.

“I hope you like ice cream.”

“You brought me ice cream?” She sounded so surprised, as if no one had ever brought her ice cream, that he stepped over and gave her another quick kiss on the lips.

“Yep.” Marc proceeded to pull out a gallon of combined chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream, hot fudge and caramel sauces, a banana, canned whipped cream, cherries, and nuts.

Anna had been silent until he got to the crushed peanuts.

“Unless you’re prepared to stab me, leave those death nuts in the jar.”

“Huh?”

“Allergic. Like face swelling, tongue choking, not breathing allergic. The epi-pen’s in the drawer in the kitchen. Or one in my purse. In the car.”

“Shit. So that’s what the epi was for.” He plucked the offensive jar up, stormed to the front door, yanked it open, and threw the jar out into the grass. Then he ran into the kitchen and washed his hands. Twice. No way would he be responsible for killing their mate. With a fucking peanut, no less.

“What the hell?”

He turned. “Are you…laughing? Are you laughing at me?”

“Well, you just threw peanuts out my front door and washed your hands like they were coated in blood.”

Marc grabbed her around her waist and hugged her tight. She squirmed for a second and then settled. Shoving his nose into the crook of her neck, he inhaled her scent. The sweetness of her skin, the twang of some citrus shampoo, her confusion and uncertainty. And on top of it all, her desire. His wolf howled inside, begging him to mark her, to make her his once and for all.

“I’m protecting you.”

“From a peanut.”

“Yes.”

“They were safe in the jar, Marc. I have to physically eat them for them to do harm. I’m not so bad that the dust will put me in a grave.”

“Thank God.” He traveled his mouth up the column of her neck, tasting and nipping. Anna graciously tilted her head to give him access. Her pulse thrummed beneath his lips, her hands fisted in his shirt at his chest, and if he didn’t back off, he’d have her bent over the counter and be inside her before either of them could blink.

“Ice cream,” he whispered, nibbling at her ear lobe.

“Mm hmm.”

With a groan and a silent command to his wolf to back off, he released her, took her hand, and led her back to the couch and a promised banana split minus the nuts.

He fed her the frozen treat, refusing to let her do it herself despite her protests, and when they were done, he licked the corner of her mouth where a stain of cherry juice graced the skin. If he lingered, well, so be it. Then he settled his feet on the coffee table and her head across his thighs, and started to stroke her hair.

She fell asleep long before the movie’s three endings played.

He carried her to her bed, fumbled with yanking her blanket down, and deposited her on the mattress. After slipping her shoes off, he covered her and fought the desire to remove her clothes and crawl in with her. In the end he decided her waking up naked probably wouldn’t win him any awards, so he softly kissed her temple, and with a sigh, left her snuggled up tight, cleaned up their sundaes, and locked the door behind himself.

We promise to give you space. You only have to give us a chance.

Anna smiled at the note propped on the pillow next to her. They were certainly fond of their notes. She was half surprised she didn’t find him spooning her.

And that she was fully clothed.

“Such a gentleman.”
Snort.

The seed was starting to grow. Maybe she
could
cohabit with them for a while. It was her damned house after all, no matter what paperwork they signed. Her men could suffer on the couches if they didn’t have beds in the extra rooms. Or…they could join together in one of their beds.

The thought made her laugh out loud. She couldn’t envision either of them touching the other, but what the hell? If they thought they were going to share
her
, surely they would at some point make contact. Inadvertent or not. And damned if that didn’t make her tingle in a certain place.

Sheesh. When was the last time she’d wanted to touch herself?

She slipped her fingers into her panties and widened her legs. She’d definitely fallen into the circle of lust. Did wanting two men to take her at once make her a whore? Or simply bring out her inner whore? Did it make her any different than Candy Apple?

Hell to the no. Anna could partake in downright dirty fun with no repercussions. “
Because I’m not married
,” she shouted into the empty room.

Dampness had already formed along her slit, and the barest of touches at the tiny bundle of nerves made her suck in a breath. But the pressure wasn’t quite enough, so she flipped onto her belly.

Thinking about them coming together in the buff, their eyes gleaming with sexual tension, their hands alternately pulling a slow drag down a long, thick cock or working at her clit or plucking at her nipples, their teeth working at her neck…

Holy. Shit. She had
not
just tilted her head. Wouldn’t them biting her neck hurt like a motherfu…

Crap.

She licked her lips because who cared if it might hurt if it made her feel like this, and pressed a bit harder at her clit, smearing the wetness in a tiny circle and squeezing her hips together. Marc leaned over her, one long finger working deep inside her as his lips found and separated hers. His tongue slipped inside, rubbing against hers, sucking it into his mouth.

Colton took a hold of her nipple and tugged it to just the point of pain.

Anna held her breath. Her thighs quivered. Her heartbeat throbbed in her clit. A few…more…

Her ears rang.

No.

Nooooooo…

Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it.

The ringing blared again, breaking the spell.

Marc’s finger slipped from her pussy, his teeth scraped across her lip as he pulled away.

Colton dragged his tongue from her breast.

Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs.

She’d been so close.

Anna fought to get it back.

The damn phone trilled once more.

“Call back later,” she screamed, furiously working her clit. “Come. On.”

She tried to conjure them back, naked and playing her body.

Except the phone wouldn’t leave her alone. Her men were gone. Her luscious, naked, muscled, sexy, horny men who were miniscule moments away from making her have one hell of an orgasm had poof, gone away.

Her body sagged in a blubbery mess.

There would be no joy in Studville; her illusionary men had just struck out.

“I can’t even get off right anymore.” She glared at the evil iPhone and contemplated chucking it out the window. It could join the peanuts on the lawn since it had killed her orgasm as sure as the nuts would have killed her.

“Damn it.” Moment gone, Anna worked on getting her breathing and heart rate back to normal. A glance at the clock told her she’d already slept way past her normal wake up time. Time to get her butt outta bed and onto the apartment search.

She rolled over, swung her feet to the side, and grinned, wondering who would stalk her today. The thought sent a little thrill through her.

It should have scared the shit out of her.

With a groan, she stood and picked up her phone. The number that had interrupted her imminent orgasm wasn’t one she recognized. Which pissed her off even more. She tossed the phone on the bed and then shuffled off to the bathroom for a shower. Maybe she could rekindle things there.

Twenty frustrating minutes later, she gave up. “Never have been able to do a damn thing in the shower.” The towel slapped against the foggy mirror with a thwump, and she wiped it down so she might actually be able to see herself. She succeeded in at least making it a distorted reflection. Kinda, sorta suited her life right now. Not at all clear. At least the bruise on her forehead was fading even more. A bit of makeup and it was almost not noticeable.

When she’d finally gotten herself together and given herself the pep talk of the century, she got in her car, determined that Thursday would be the day she found a place to live. Otherwise, she was pretty S-O-L. She might find herself living in her car down by the river, so to speak.

By the time she she’d given up on finding anything within her budget and was ready to beg—though to be honest, she didn’t think she’d have to do more than show up—she got waylaid again. Her tire blew about two miles from her destination. Of course in the middle of nowhere where the only people passing her would be the inhabitants of the lake community, of which there weren’t a whole lot. Not to mention, the subdivision had two entrances, and it would be just her luck everyone would come in from the other direction and miss her completely.

She’d never had a flat tire in her life. “Par for the freaking current course.” Anna slapped her palms on the steering before lowering her forehead to rest on the backs of her hands. The laugh took her by surprise. Made her laugh even more until tears leaked from her eyes. “Seriously,” she said, wiping her nose, “how does one’s life spiral so quickly out of control?”

Squeezing the wheel, she tried to convince herself she could handle things. “I can. I can do this. I’m a woman and I can handle a little flat tire.” There had to be directions in the owner’s manual, right? “Directions are good. Directions I can do.”

After retrieving the book, she flung the door open and stepped away to survey the situation. The rear driver’s side tire had more than flattened; the damn thing lay in shreds. Some on the road, some still hanging on to the wheel in vain.

“Fuuuudge.” She stomped to the trunk, flipped it open, and stared into the abyss. There had to be a tire somewhere. Her dad had once changed a tire on their old olive green station wagon when she’d been a little girl. She remembered standing on the side of the road holding her mom’s hand, her pigtails flapping in the breeze, while her dad jerked on some kind of pole he’d attached to the nut jobber thingies on the wheel.

She also remembered her mother covering her ears as her dad created a whole new language Anna had never heard.

The thought made her smile as she reached into the trunk and lifted the corner of a piece of carpet that seemed to hide something round beneath it.

And voilà. El sparo tire-o.

A lifty thingamabob too.

One of those poles also.

Anna searched the handbook index for changing a tire, found the page she needed, and read up on how to get the spare and parts out of the car first and foremost. Having succeeded, she set about loosening the lug nuts—as she’d discovered they were called.

“Yep. Two minutes and I give up.”

Her hands burned from gripping the wrench so tight, she swore she would have blisters.

She’d cry if she thought it would help any. But no. There’d been no traffic on the road, and why would there be? It was still early in the afternoon when people were still at work.

She was going to have to hoof it. Make the boys come and help her out of another mess. All on top of groveling for a bed to sleep on in the interim of finding her own place.

If the look of the darkening sky was anything to go by, she could only hope she made it to the house before the rain did. She threw everything back in the trunk, slapped it closed, grabbed her purse and phone, locked the car, and took off.

The downpour started about five minutes into her clipped pace, making the road a squishy, soggy, slippery mess, and cooling the air temperature about fifteen degrees.

“You hate me, don’t you?” she yelled into the sudden wind-driven rain. “What the hell did I ever do to You?” She jogged as best she could, splashing into already forming puddles and doing her best to recreate the language her dad had mastered that day changing their wagon’s tire.

She was a soggy pile of pissed off mess by the time she reached the house.

Anna shivered, squeezed out about a gallon of water from her T-shirt, and lifted her hand to knock. Time to suck it up and be a big girl. She would stay only until she found another place.

She fully expected her knock to be greeted with gloating and the I-told-you-so’s too. As if they knew she’d come to them eventually.

Only nothing happened. Silence was the only answer she got. Except the bolt of lightning that struck so close behind her, every hair on her body stood on end, scaring the crap and a girlish shriek out of her and plastering her to the door. The crack of thunder that followed made her ears ring and tears well in her eyes.

He really was out to get her.