Songbird (10 page)

“My love,” he murmured.

She tensed, her muscles squeezing, her groin clenched, and she tightened around him like a vise. He thrust hard and fast, his hips slapping against hers.

She couldn’t stand it. Not anymore. With a harsh cry, she wrapped herself so tightly around him that she couldn’t breathe, and then she flew.

Greer’s breath blew warm over her ear, the sound ragged. His cry mingled with hers as they fell over together.

Floating. Spiraling gently downward. She was surrounded by warmth and softness.

He pulsed deep within her and he remained still, keeping them locked together.

Home. Such a beautiful word. One that brought such comfort. She was finally home. With those who loved her.

“Emmy, honey, can you come downstairs?” Greer asked outside her door.

Emily put her brush down, tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped out of the bathroom to see Greer standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets.

He looked uneasy, almost nervous, and that worried her.

“Greer?”

He relaxed and reached to take her hand. “Nothing to worry about. Promise. There’s someone here to see you.”

She cocked her head to the side, apprehension tracing a chilly path up her spine.

“Who?”

He grimaced and then said, “Frank.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back.

Greer stepped forward again and tentatively put his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you angry?”

She shook her head but wasn’t sure whether she was or wasn’t. No, she wasn’t angry. She was afraid, and
that
made her angry.

“No. I’d like to see him,” she murmured. “I should have stayed in contact with him.”

Greer’s expression softened. “He’s been worried about you, sweet pea. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. Talk to you. There’s no pressure, I promise.”

He extended his hand, and she took a deep breath before sliding her palm over his. He squeezed reassuringly and tugged her toward the door.

Taggert was in the living room with Frank when she and Greer entered. Taggert immediately rose, his gaze searching her features for—what, fear? Worry? She was such a coward. But with his and Greer’s strength and support, she could face anything.

“Emily, my dear,” Frank said as he walked to where she stood trembling beside Greer.

He waited a moment as if to gauge her reaction, and then he enfolded her into his embrace.

“You’ve had me worried sick,” he said gruffly.

She sighed, rested her head on his shoulder a moment and then pulled away.

“I know. I’m sorry, Frank. I should have called. I just couldn’t… I just couldn’t deal.”

“And now?” He peered at her over his glasses, his stare probing. “How are you now?”

“Better,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “That’s great. You and I have a lot to talk about, Emily Donovan.”

“Frank,” Taggert growled. “You promised.”

Frank raised an eyebrow as he turned in Taggert’s direction. “I promised I wouldn’t badger her. I just want to talk. No harm in that.”

“I won’t sing,” she said flatly. “I haven’t sung in a year. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to.”

The memory of the haunting melody she’d sung from her heart at Sean’s grave shifted painfully through her. That was private. For Sean. She wouldn’t do it in public again.

Frank’s expression softened. “Come out on the porch and talk to me, Emily? I can’t stay long. My return flight is in a few hours. I have to be back in Nashville.”

She nodded reluctantly. She owed him this much. It was too bad he’d come all this way for nothing, but it finally solved the issue of her facing him again. Better to have it over with so she could dispense with the demise of her career.

***

Taggert stepped onto the porch as Emily stood watching Frank tear down the long dirt driveway toward the main gate.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She turned, and he could see the haunted grief in her eyes again. Eyes that for the space of one night had been clear and beautiful. He sighed. He and Greer had a long road to travel with Emily.

Her long blond hair lifted in the back, carried on the light breeze blowing over the porch. It was like liquid sunshine. He’d always loved her hair. In the past it had always been indicative of her carefree personality. When she smiled, she glowed, the silvery strands adding to her warmth. It served as a reminder of all he and Greer wanted to get back. But could they ever truly go back?

“Yes,” she said simply. “He won’t return.”

Taggert held out his arms, and she went willingly, burying her face against his chest.

“I don’t mind if you never want to sing to crowds again. Or go into the recording studio. But baby, you love to sing. It’s part of who you are.”

She stiffened and curled her fists, gathering his shirt tight in her grip.

“It’s part of who I
was
,” she said dully.

He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, wishing he knew what to say, what he could do to make it all better. It wasn’t that he had to hear her sing again, though he wanted it more than anything. Singing was just Emily. It had always been Emily. There was never a time she wasn’t humming a tune, plucking her old guitar or scribbling lyrics down on every scrap of paper she could find.

It hurt her not to sing. He knew it as much as he knew anything else. She’d never fully heal until she could put what happened to Sean behind her and embrace her gift again. Even if it was just for her and she never made a public appearance again.

His fist curled in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to make the bastard who’d done this to his family pay. Bleed. The irony was that he was out there. Free. While Taggert’s family suffered.

“Come inside. It’s time to eat, and you know Buck gets cranky when we keep him waiting.”

She glanced up, her lips twisting into a rueful smile. “Not going to lecture me on getting on with my life and not letting that bastard win?”

“Is that what Frank told you?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s right. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t change anything, Tagg. Do you understand that?”

The pleading in her voice tore at his heart.

He tugged her into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. For a long moment he just stood there, staring out over his land. His and Greer’s land. Sean’s land.

“I understand, Emmy, I do,” he finally said. “I know this can’t be rushed. It’s hard for me. I’m a guy. Guys want to fix things. I can’t fix this, and it’s killing me.”

He felt her smile against his chest.

“Don’t give up on me?”

He pulled away and nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “Never, baby. Do you get that? Greer and I aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Her eyes were wide and luminous, shining with a silken veil of tears. But her smile lit up his entire heart.

“I love you, Tagg. Do you have any idea how good it feels to be able to tell you that and for you to accept it?”

His throat swelled, threatening to shut down his ability to speak. He wasn’t sure what the hell he’d say to that anyway.

He kissed her instead. Clumsy. Desperate. Needy. He was all those things when it came to her. How was he ever supposed to pull it together when she shattered him with a simple word?

He held her close so that their breaths stuttered erratically over each other’s lips. His fingers trembled as he stroked her cheek, the tips tangling with the single strand of hair that refused to stay behind her ear.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, his voice cracking.

She smiled, kissed him again as if she knew just how hard it was for him to process the barrage of emotions, and then she pulled away, taking his hand as they entered the house.

“Everything all right?” Greer asked when they walked into the kitchen.

Taggert eyed his brother and gave him a short nod.

“What did Frank have to say?”

Emily shrugged. “You know what he wanted.”

“Did he come out and ask you to come back?”

Greer’s voice was mild, but Taggert detected a hint of…what, insecurity? Worry? He cocked an eyebrow in his brother’s direction, but Greer ignored him as he continued to stare intently at Emily.

Emily’s shoulders sagged. “No, but he didn’t have to. I knew what he wanted. He lectured me about hiding away from my destiny and then he pulled out the Sean card.”

Taggert tuned in. “Sean card? What the hell is that?”

“Yeah, the Sean-wouldn’t-want-you-to-live-this-way speech.”

“He’s right about that,” Greer said quietly. “The question is how long are you going to ignore what’s so clear to the rest of us?”

She shook her head and threw a bewildered look at Taggert as if expecting help from his quarter. Hell, Greer was dead-on, but she’d already been hit over the head during Frank’s visit. There was no reason to rehash it all.

“What do you want from me?” she asked helplessly.

Greer crossed the room, cupped her cheek and stared down at her with a fierceness that even had Taggert taking a mental step back.

“I want you to live, Emmy. I want you to be with me. Sean is gone. Do you understand that? He’s not coming back, and he’d be the last person to want you to keep grieving for him.”

Emily flinched as though Greer had struck her. Raw pain and rage flared in her eyes, and she wrenched away from his grasp.

“I get it, Greer. Believe me I do. I was there remember? I watched him die. I had his blood all over me. I’m not likely to forget that he’s gone. I don’t ever need you to remind me of that.”

She was furious. Her entire body trembled. Her hands shook, and she curled her fingers, raising her fists in what looked like a fighting stance.

And then just as quickly she folded inward. Her face crumpled and her knees buckled. She slid bonelessly to the floor, her sobs searing over Taggert’s shocked senses.

Taggert dropped to his knees beside her, but Greer was already there, folding his arms around her huddled body.

“Shhh, sweet pea. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I swear.”

Emily raised her tear-streaked face to stare up at Greer. “I know he’s gone, Greer. I sang for him today. Only for him, though. I didn’t know it would feel so good.”

Taggert closed his eyes and cursed the timing of Frank’s visit. Maybe she’d come around on her own, but she was raw and hurting, and then Frank had arrived determined to make her
see the light
.

Greer rocked her in his arms, holding her tight as he moved back and forth. “He loved your singing, Emmy. He was so proud of you. You were the reason he learned to play the guitar. It was his way of sharing your gift with you. Don’t take that away from him. Don’t take it away from us.”

“It killed him,” she whispered.

“No, baby. No.”

No longer able to keep silent or remain back, Taggert pressed forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes, deeply wounded, sought him out, looking, asking.

“Emmy, you can’t think that. Your attacker was a sick bastard. Do you understand that? It wasn’t you. It was him.”

She looked away, and Taggert blew out his breath in frustration. Then she looked back, a pleading expression in her beautiful eyes.

“I know that. I do, Tagg. But every time I close my eyes I see him, I hear his voice, and I know that if I’d never sung Sean would still be alive, and that’s hard for me to come to terms with even if it’s stupid, and I know it’s not logical but guilt isn’t logical. God I wish it was. I wish I could just turn it off. I felt Sean today. I felt him, and I knew he wanted me to sing, and so I did. I even thought I could go on, but then Frank came, and all I could feel was that panic inside and the knowledge that I couldn’t take a chance on losing one of you just because I want something so inconsequential as to sing again. Isn’t that insane?”

The speech came out all run together and ended in a laugh that verged on hysteria.

“Emmy. Songbird. Our Songbird.”

The words spilled past stiff lips and cracked with emotion. Taggert swallowed and stroked her hair, hoping he could come up with the right thing to say.

“It doesn’t have to be now. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. But one day, baby. One day you’ll feel safe. You’ll sing. And we’ll be here to help you fly.”

Supper was quiet, and Emily could feel the stares of Greer and Taggert. A heavy sigh escaped her before she could call it back.

She’d honestly thought she was through with the emotional breakdowns. Her visit to Sean’s grave had been freeing. And then Frank’s visit had brought old fears back.

“Emmy, what are you thinking?”

She glanced up to see Taggert studying her intently.

“I’m okay. Promise. I’m sorry for freaking out on you. Again. It seems it’s all I can do lately.”

“Cut yourself some slack,” Greer said in a gruff voice. “You’ve been through a lot.”

She pushed her food around the plate, grateful that Taggert had dismissed Buck and the hands to eat in the bunkhouse. The last thing she felt like doing was pretending her world wasn’t crumbling around her.

Be a little more dramatic, why don’t you?

She made a sound of disgust.

“My world is not ending,” she muttered.

Taggert’s lip lifted in a half smile. “I should hope not. Greer and I aren’t that bad.”

She laughed, relief soaring through her chest. It was so easy to love him. The idea that she could finally be open with that love floored her.

Slowly she lowered her fork, her pulse speeding up as the two brothers watched her.

“Take me upstairs,” she said huskily. “Please. I need you. Love me.”

Taggert picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “I do love you.”

Greer shoved his plate aside and rose abruptly. When he reached for her, his hands shook. She took his hand and brought it to her mouth just as Taggert had done to her.

The work-roughened fingers brushed across her skin, and she closed her eyes, imagining them on her body, caressing her, touching her intimately.

“Take us upstairs, Emmy. Show us what you need.”

Need? She needed them. Their love. She needed them to hold her and stand between her and the nightmares.

Taking both their hands, she twined her fingers with theirs and tugged them toward the stairs.

She was nervous. Her food churned in her stomach. Maybe she’d never really quite get over the idea that Taggert and Greer were here with her. Loving her.

They followed her into the bedroom, and they stood waiting as she slowly turned around to face them. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she swallowed as she curled and uncurled her fingers at her sides. Then she squared her shoulders and took that step.

In her wildest fantasies, she’d done this a million times, but the reality threatened to steal her breath away. Her hands shook and her fingers were clumsy as she worked at the buttons on Greer’s shirt. She worked down, her gaze never leaving his face, watching as his eyes flared and simmered like coals.

When she reached his belt, she left the shirt and yanked at the buckle. In a few seconds she had his fly open and she pulled impatiently at his shirt until it was free of his jeans.

Drawn to the bare expanse of skin, she placed her palms on his tight belly and let them glide upward to his chest and then to his shoulders. Inhaling, she pressed her lips to the hollow of his chest, closing her eyes as his scent filled her.

He didn’t touch her or make the effort to undress her as she did him. He seemed content to let her lead and for him to follow. Part of her wanted to tear off his and Taggert’s clothing and indulge in hot, passionate lovemaking, ending it almost before it began. She was eager to feel their hands and mouths on her body. But the other part of her wanted to savor the sweet, slow symphony, to indulge in hours and hours of exploring their bodies while they pleasured her.

She wanted it hard and fast. She wanted it hot and edgy. She wanted it long and slow. Sensual and loving. Her mind blazed with the possibilities.

“Do you want help, Emmy?”

Greer’s huskily voiced question brushed over her ears and elicited a trail of goose bumps down her back. She’d been standing here, her mouth against his skin, unmoving while she imagined the many ways she wanted to be made love to. Her lips curved into a rueful smile, and she shook her head. She wasn’t a complete coward.

Stepping away, she slid her hand down his belly, into the springy hair at his groin until her fingers circled his length. He flinched and rocked back on his heels when she went lower to cup his balls.

“Take your pants off,” she murmured, suddenly eager to see him.

His thumbs hitched into the waistband of his jeans, and he yanked. The denim gathered around his feet, leaving him deliciously exposed. Not waiting for her dictate, he shrugged out of his shirt, allowing it to fall behind him.

Her gaze was riveted to his lean hips and to the dark hair at his groin. His erection jutted outward, an invitation. She dropped to her knees and reached to circle him with both hands.

She stroked. Up and down, enjoying the way he came to life in her palms. He grew harder, pulsing over her fingers. Her tongue darted out. A taste. She wanted to taste him, to bring him the ultimate pleasure.

She circled the head, teasing, with light little licks, keeping him from the depths of her mouth. When he tensed and let out a groan, she smiled, confident in her ability to drive him wild.

“Stop teasing me, damn it,” he rasped. “Suck me, Emmy. Swallow me whole. Do something, but stop tormenting me.”

In response she took him deep. His fingers tangled roughly in her hair and he thrust forward, wanting deeper.

His taste danced on her tongue and his scent filled her nostrils. He was in her, on her, living inside her heart and soul. They were both frantic, and she didn’t know who was doing the most work. Her fingers dug into his hips as she pulled him closer. His hands twisted in her hair, holding her as he bucked against her.

And suddenly he left her. She rocked back, her hand going to the floor for balance. His harsh breathing filled her ears as he gasped for breath.

“Not yet. I don’t want it to end yet.”

She understood, and she gifted him with a wavering smile. He’d been close. She turned, wanting to find Taggert. She wanted to undress him too and run her hands and mouth over his hard body.

He was already naked, standing a few feet away, his hand coaxing his cock to full erection. She watched in fascination as he rolled the foreskin up and down and how thick and long he looked when he pulled it all the way back.

Before she realized what she was doing, she licked her lips, and Taggert let out a harsh expletive.

“You’re killing me, Emmy. I want your mouth, baby.”

“Then come and take it,” she challenged.

He was there before she could blink. He put one hand on the top of her head to hold her in place while he positioned his cock at her lips with his other hand.

“Open for me.”

Dutifully she complied, and he slid inside as soon as she parted her lips. He wasn’t as content as Greer to let her dictate the pace. He thrust hard and deep, and his fingers curled tighter into her hair. He released his grip on his cock and gently touched her face, his fingers feathering over her jaw and then to her neck as he fucked her mouth.

“If you only knew how many times I’ve seen you just like this in my fantasies.”

Greer’s voice startled her and her gaze shot sideways to see him standing there watching, his hand pumping his cock as he watched her suck Taggert.

“On your knees. Only it’s my cock in your mouth. Your hair streams down your back like moonlight, and you’re looking up at me with the world in your eyes. If you only knew, Emmy.”

She glanced up at Taggert to see the agreement in his expression. He thrust back and forth, his jaw clenched tight, but his gaze never left her. There was lust, but there was so much more reflected there for her to see. Love. And hope.

He rose up on tiptoe, his face creased in agony. And then, like Greer, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath, her body trembling with awakened passion.

Greer grasped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. His lips came down on hers even as he walked her backward toward the bed. He pushed. She fell. He came down over her, his body covering her like a sheet of fire.

His knee wedged between her legs, pushing them apart. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was his mouth ravaging hers, tasting her, drinking from her. He settled between her thighs, his cock nudging impatiently at her opening.

“Take me,” he whispered into her mouth.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched into him. He thrust hard, and the first shock of his entry nearly shattered her. He was in her so deep, so full, that it stole her breath. She raced to catch up, to process the bombardment of sensations battering her from every angle. But he didn’t wait. He rode her, driving her into the mattress, taking everything she offered until her sob of pleasure filled the room.

She was on the brink, ready to dive over. Her vision blurred, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, ready to take the leap.

He slowed, and she whimpered her protest. Then he stopped, his cock lodged as deep in her as he could go.

“Do you trust us, Emmy?” he whispered.

Her gaze flew to his. She was shocked he’d even ask. But there was something in his eyes. Something edgy and dark that excited her. It was then she knew what he was really asking.

“You know I do. Always. With my life. With my heart. Everything.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. Then he withdrew and backed away, leaving her sprawled on the bed, her entire body quivering on the verge of release.

And then Taggert was there, kissing her sweetly. He picked her up, holding her to him as he continued the long, hot sweeps of his mouth over hers.

“I’m going to put you back down. I want you on your knees. We’re going to ease into this, baby. And if you want us to stop at any time, say so.”

She swallowed, not in fear but in anticipation. Bubbles rose from her stomach and into her throat, dancing their way onto her tongue. She shivered as his dark eyes bore into her.

Carefully he put her back down on the bed, and as he’d directed, she turned and got to her hands and knees. The mattress dipped as Greer got on the other side of her. He reached up to push her hair away from her face and let his thumb linger close to her mouth, almost as if he were imagining what it felt like to have her mouth around his cock again.

She closed her eyes, losing sight of Greer when Taggert pressed his lips to the small of her back. He worked down, pressing tiny kisses over the seam of her behind. Then he gently parted the globes, exposing the tiny entrance. Shockingly, his tongue probed delicately at the opening. She gasped, and heat flooded her face until she thought she might burst into flames.

“Taggert!”

He chuckled softly and continued to tongue the sensitive ring until she shook uncontrollably. When he pulled away, she almost protested, but she was too mortified. She was unbelievably turned on, and if he so much as touched her clit, she would orgasm on the spot.

Warm gel smoothed over the same area he’d just spent so much time licking. He smeared it generously around the opening and then tucked a finger inside. The shock sent her forward, and Greer caught her before she fell. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened but no words came out.

Taggert took his time. He rubbed, touched, petted and smoothed the lubricant until she was a mindless, boneless puppet. Never once was he too forceful or did he go too fast. It was enough to make her crazy.

She burned. Her mind filled with edgy forbidden images. Taggert deep in her ass while Greer fucked her mouth. Oh God. Taggert in her ass while Greer fucked her pussy. She shuddered and locked her arms so she wouldn’t collapse. She’d imagined it so many times. Them taking her at the same time. But she’d never thought it would happen.

“Taggert,” she pleaded.

“Shhh, Emmy. You’re not ready yet. I’d never do anything to hurt you or frighten you. We’ll take it slow. I want it to be good for you.”

“Just do it!” she wailed.

Greer laughed softly. “Always so impatient, Emmy.”

Taggert’s fingers stroked silkily in and out of the tight ring of her anus. She wiggled and then she rocked back to take him deeper, but he only withdrew and then issued a light slap to her ass with his other hand.

“Taggert, please!”

Again he leaned down and kissed the small of her back before finally easing his fingers away. His palms glided over her hips and then one hand left her. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the first brush of his penis.

“Listen to me, baby. I’m going to take this really slow. When I push in, I want you to push out. Don’t fight it. Relax and let me in.”

She bit her lip and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He pressed forward. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as the pressure increased. It began to burn, a delicious stretching sensation that sent shockwaves through her pussy. Her nipples hardened painfully.

“Push against me, Emmy,” Taggert said hoarsely.

She bore down, and he pushed. Suddenly he was inside and she cried out.

Taggert swore. “Did I hurt you? Do you want me to pull out?”