A surge of blistering rage consumed Jolán. “Do you think you can have my leftovers? Well, you can’t. They’re mine! Both of them.”
Ilona’s mouth flattened into a harsh line, and her eyebrows dipped toward her nose.
Guilt washed away the jealousy as quickly as it had attacked. “Ilona, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I’m...Oh, Goddess, I wish I could lock myself in my room until my fertility cycle is over. I hate feeling this way. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“What’s wrong? I thought the Fates led you to the right man, and you know, you had wild, passionate sex, and then you joined.” Ilona twisted a curl around her finger in her usual nervous gesture.
Jolán rubbed at her forehead, hoping her growing headache would subside. “I can’t tell which of them is The One, or even if
either
of them could be. How am I supposed to know? I can’t think straight, and I ache all over. I just want it to be done.”
Sinking to the floor, she drew her knees up to her chin. Actually, only one of the men could possibly be for her. Liam had made his lack of feelings for her perfectly clear. She meant nothing to him, not even enough to want to have sex with her again. Ivan had flirted with her, but he hadn’t shown any sexual interest.
Ilona sat down beside her. “Have you talked to Great Grandmother about it? Maybe she can help.”
Shaking her head, Jolán blew out an exhausted breath. “She said to let my body guide me, but the things it’s telling me are crazy.”
“Like what? Not to choose?” Giving her shoulder a nudge, Ilona grinned. “What if you’re mated to
both
of them? Kata, Lujza, Rebeka, and Orsolya have two.”
“Both?” The word stuck in Jolán’s throat. She groaned. “Oh, no. You have to be wrong.”
Heat flooded her core as an image of Ivan and Liam connected to her from the front and the back seared itself on her brain.
It can’t be true.
The last four matings in the family had consisted of one witch and two men, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was fated for a joining of three.
Impossible
.
Ilona raised her eyebrows. “But what if I’m right?”
* * * *
One hundred eighty-one days to go. Five hundred forty-four meals.
Liam swallowed a growl. How the hell would he last six months on the project? After half a day and two meals at the Macska estate, he wanted to punch his stepbrother in the face for coming on to Jolán and haul her back to the barn for a second round of no-holds-barred fucking. On the cot, in the hayloft, up against a stall door.
Why didn’t I keep my stupid mouth shut this morning?
If his dick got any harder, he could use it for pounding nails instead of his hammer. Getting up from the dinner table wasn’t an option. He had to sit and watch the foreplay between her and Ivan. A light touch here. A lean in there. One of her hands disappeared under the table, and Liam held his breath until it returned to rest next to her plate—when he’d wanted to bend down to see whether she had rubbed her palm along his stepbrother’s thigh or zipper. Ivan’s slow smile hinted that it could easily be the latter.
Son of a bitch.
Romána’s voice brought silence to the group of fifty-something diners. “My dearest family, please join me in bestowing the greatest of blessings upon the children born today. Jolán, you are now a woman. Your life begins anew, just as the lives of our newest members.”
Jesus, don’t tell me I screwed a barely legal eighteen-year-old.
No, Jolán
had
to be at least twenty-one.
Please.
“We welcome Lujza’s daughter and son into our fold—to protect and nurture into adulthood. Blessings, my children.” The old woman raised her arms as if to present her legacy to the gathering.
Liam followed the gazes of the diners to the gladiators who’d caught him leaving the barn. Each of the men held a tiny blanket-wrapped bundle, flanking a spike-haired woman with dark circles beneath her watchful eyes. She turned to the right, kissing the baby swaddled in pink before she smiled at the taller man. The look told Ivan that the guy with lighter hair had to be the father of her children.
Turning to the left, she repeated the gesture with the newborn wrapped in blue. Another intimate exchange—this time with the shorter, darker man—confused Ivan. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess both had…
No way. That’s not possible.
A happy squeal drew his attention to a baby perched on the lap of a slightly older version of Jolán. An answering giggle came from a kid who had to be the first one’s twin. The pair were the spitting image of the men on either side of the woman.
The highly unlikely seemed more plausible with a scan of the second table. Two more dark-haired females with protective-looking males seated left and right of them convinced him. Some, if not all, the Macska women practiced bigamy.
How could their husbands tolerate sharing her?
Why
would they? As erotic as sleeping with two hot girls sounded in theory, Liam didn’t think he could ever act on the fantasy. He sure as hell wouldn’t share Jolán with his brother.
She isn’t mine to share. She isn’t mine.
After a year of isolating himself, she’d breached the wall around his heart in a matter of seconds. He suddenly wanted the option of changing his mind about being ready to move on. The whole damn situation had snuck up on him and whacked him upside the head.
“Love takes many forms, does it not?” Romána’s observation made him wonder if he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. “Selfish love is not truly love. To have that emotion, we must exercise generosity, and we must willingly give those we love what they require. An open mind lends itself to an open heart.”
Was she trying to tell him that sometimes the women in her family needed two husbands? Or was she saying he should stop letting his past dictate his present and future? Her riddles gave him a headache.
Not sure if she expected a response, he gave a nod as he stood. “I’m going to get a couple more hours work in before it gets dark.”
Her slight smile sent a chill up his spine. The wisdom in her stare suggested she knew much more than she’d pussyfooted around. “Until breakfast, Mr. Pattison.”
He rounded the table and aimed for the exit, ready for some solitude. No happily married couples—and threesomes. No cute babies. No stepbrothers flirting with hot birthday girls.
Ivan rose, reaching to brush a stray hair from Jolán’s cheek as Liam passed their seats. “Meet you at the fountain at nine.”
She looked up at Ivan and smiled. “I’ll bring a blanket.”
The knot in Liam’s gut tightened. Never in his life had he regretted an action more than his rash comment to Jolán. She had every right to pursue Ivan, and Ivan didn’t owe Liam a second chance with her.
The wide doorway into the hall couldn’t come fast enough, but Liam kept a steady pace. He wasn’t about to let anyone see him cave under the mound of jealousy and disappointment. He’d fucked up, and he had to pay the price. Even if he managed to catch her alone to apologize, he doubted she’d accept.
The next six months would be the longest of his entire life.
* * * *
Second and third thoughts assailed Ivan as he descended the extension ladder from the roof trusses. With the lift and safety harnesses, he and Liam had laid several sheets of sheathing into place, securing the four corners of each one with nails until tomorrow. They planned to get an early start on the heavy work to avoid the afternoon heat. By evening, they’d be ready to finish nailing the pieces to the two-by-twelves.
Tonight, Ivan had a date with the lovely Jolán. Although his plan was to make his brother jealous, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to resist temptation if she accidentally rubbed her hand on his thigh again. His cock had gone from relaxed to rigid in the instant she’d reached for the napkin on her lap. Two hours of hard labor had helped with the situation, but a cold shower to rinse off the sweat and grime would send his dick into hiding.
At the bottom of the ladder, he headed to the camper for a towel, soap and shampoo, and some clean clothes. A few minutes later, he carried the armload down another ladder to the basement level of the new wing. Water and drain lines had been run before the concrete floor had been poured, leaving easy access to the pipes for a temporary bathroom with a shower and toilet. No traipsing through the mansion, invading the privacy of its residents.
He shuddered under the spray, the contrast of cold water on his hot skin shocking at first, but he focused on washing off the crud before the sun sank too low to see. Donning a clean shirt and shorts, he balled up his dirty work clothes in the damp towel and climbed out of the nearly dark basement.
The sun had dipped below the top of the trees to the west, painting the sky with streaks of red, orange, and purple. The moon had yet to rise above the high wall at the east entrance to the estate. He figured he had about ten minutes or so before his fake tryst with Jolán. Was that enough time to convince the current of testosterone buzzing in his veins she was off-limits?
“Chance of rain on Wednesday.” Liam’s voice came out of the shadows. “We’ll eat lunch on the job until the roof’s done instead of wasting time cleaning up to go inside to eat.”
The plausible excuse didn’t fool Ivan, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Okay.”
A form emerged from the stacks of shingles. “I plan on hitting the sack after I shower. Try to be quiet when you get back from your date.”
The overbearing tone grated on Ivan’s already testy temper. “Don’t worry. All the noise will happen
during
my date.”
Not waiting for a retort, he strode to the truck to toss his bundle of dirty clothes into the laundry duffle in the bed. He had no intention of getting naked with Jolán, no matter what his dick or Liam thought.
Let the asshole draw his own fucking conclusions.
Ivan grabbed two beers from the cooler on his way to the mermaid fountain. The soft grass soothed his bare feet, tired after a full day inside thick wool socks and work boots. His silhouette moved in front of him as he crossed the stone walkway leading to the statue. The full moon peeked over the wall at him when he looked back toward the mansion.
Damn it.
He was late because of the run-in with his brother.
He scanned the dusk-laden garden for Jolán. They’d agreed to meet at the fountain, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not wanting to interrupt the chirping song of the crickets, he walked farther along the path rather than calling for her.
He rounded the curve and crossed a wooden bridge spanning a shallow creek. The stones continued on the other side and then ended at an open space sheltered by a pair of weeping willows. A still shadow lay upon the ground. He stepped closer, no longer blocking the rising moon.
The outline of a nude woman made his lungs seize. Full, ripe nipples topped two generously rounded tits, and a dark triangle darkened the apex of her thighs. Waves of moonlit hair spread out in a halo around the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. His heart hesitated for a moment before taking off in an erratic rhythm.
She turned toward him, a seductive smile shaping her inviting mouth. “You’re late. I know what you can give me for my birthday to make up for it.”
Unable to heed the warning his common sense gave him, Liam draped his towel over the tailgate of the pickup and followed the trail his stepbrother had taken into the garden beyond the fountain. Some unknown and unwelcome force pushed him to go faster. He tried to resist, but the need to find Ivan and Jolán won the battle.
He winced at the creak the planks bridging a narrow stream made with the first step. Widening his stride, he bypassed the remainder of the crossing to reach the path. A faint mewling stopped him in his tracks as he tried to gauge which direction it had come from. Another feminine-sounding moan put his feet back into motion, carrying him at a jog to a grassy area flooded in moonlight.
A woman writhed on the ground—no, on a blanket—as a man cradled her boobs in his hands and circled one nipple with his tongue before moving on to the other. He eased down her body to settle between her legs, burying his face in her cunt.
“Yes, eat my pussy. That feels so good. Don’t stop.”
Liam recognized not only Jolán’s sexy voice, but the desperate urgency in it as well. She’d sounded much the same that morning when they’d screwed each other’s brains out.
“Come for me, honey, so I can be inside you.” Liam’s stomach knotted as Ivan expressed the same desire he’d drowned in.
Her groans grew louder, and Liam bit his lip to keep from groaning with her. His hard-on pressed against his fly, trying to get to her. He yanked the zipper down to free his dick and stroke it in his fist. When she arched and let out a relieved scream, a drop of pre-cum oozed from his slit.
Her lover rose above her, hooking her knees over his arms and shoving his cock into her. “God, you’re so tight.”