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“Don’t you pull that younger crap on me, Sarah August,” she sniped as she shook her head firmly. “No. No way. Not a chance in hell. I’ll move to the damned bunkhouse.”
“So?” Sarah blinked. “They would just follow you. Just like they did when you got pissed and stalked off to the barn that night.”
Heather felt her face flush as her cunt clenched. A spanking shouldn’t be so damned erotic, but she would be damned if that one hadn’t driven her insane with arousal. Of course, the arousal had been taken care of in a more than satisfactory manner as each of the brothers had filled her body while the others touched, stroked and worshiped her.
“Those men are dangerous,” she muttered.
“Not to mention potent,” Sarah grunted. “She hasn’t been off the pill two months yet.”
Heather sighed. “We’re sunk.”
“Naw, we’re fucked,” Sarah laughed. “But how much you want to bet it will be an experience we don’t want to miss?”
Heather could only shake her head. She had wondered if she would be jealous or angry when Marly’s dream was realized. After the death of her mother, and the reports of her father and uncle’s deaths, she had slipped into a moody, silent depression for weeks. When she came out of it, she announced her desire for a baby. She had gone off the pill that week. A month later the men had thrown away their condoms while with Marly and given it their best shot. One time. She had wanted the child to be a part of all of them, she had announced.
Other than that one time, only Cade had been with her sexually until her announcement that morning. But Heather knew those three men didn’t give a damn who the father was. That child would be loved, cherished and raised with a houseful of loving parents.
The sounds of passion slowly quieted in the other room. Long minutes later a door upstairs closed. Cade would be bathing Marly, soothing her, easing her, whispering his love to her, just as Sam and Brock did for Heather and Sarah.
“Hey, babe.” Sam stepped into the room, followed closely by Brock. He dropped a quick kiss on Heather’s cheek before heading for the coffee pot as Brock followed suit.
Heather watched the two men. Over the last six months the pain inside them all had eased. Bleak shadows and twisted nightmares were a rare occurrence, and when it happened…she smiled, remembering Sam’s last nightmare. The women had taken him to the family room, and loved him as well as the brothers had ever loved one of them. She thought he was rather looking forward to his next nightmare now.
She watched him, her husband, her lover as he carried his coffee to the table and sat down beside her. He pulled his chair close to her, nuzzling her ear before turning to the caffeine. He smelled of sex and sweat and love.
“So we’re having a baby?” she asked him softly.
His eyes lit with amusement as he leaned close to her. “I pulled out,” he whispered softly, though loud enough for Sarah to hear as well.
For a second, shock held her still before laughter burst from her chest. She looked at him, seeing the smug male satisfaction on his face, the twinkle in his eye. “You are bad.” She shook her head, glancing at Brock. “What about you?”
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers curling through Sarah’s blonde hair as he shrugged, grinning like a fool. “Hell, do you think we’re gonna let her carry anyone’s baby but Cade’s? She’s loves us all, but I’ll be damned if I’ll take this from him. And he knows it.”
They were too much alike, and yet so individual, so uniquely separate that sometimes it amazed her, these August men. As hot as the month they were named for, and yet so gentle, so deeply loving of each other, and their women, that they amazed her.
She leaned against Sam, content and at peace as she gazed up at him. “I love you, Sam August.”
His smile was quick, and carefree. “I love you too, Heather August. Forever.”
