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“Yes, but why then?” she presses in a whisper. “I don’t get it. Why?”
“It’s easier this way,” bursts in Matt, eyes fierce. “Like my bros said, we only want one heir.”
But the brunette wasn’t asking about that. She shakes her head furiously and tries again.
“No, not why as in ‘why are you doing this?’ Why, as in ‘why me?’ What makes me so special? You could have anyone,” she chokes, face falling. “You don’t need some girl without a college degree, with no options, and no family now,” come the tortured words.
All of us gather around her then, our gazes fierce, protective and possessive at once.
“Because you’re perfect,” growls Matt, eyes wandering hungrily that curvy form. “You’re young, fertile, and beautiful as hell.”
“You love to cook,” grunts Smith. “You’ll take care of us and our child.”
“Your priorities are in the right place,” rumbles Sam smoothly. “Hearth and home mean everything to you.”
But I know my brothers are circling the real answer. And I give it to Macy, straightforward and smooth.
“And because we love you,” comes my simple reply. “You’re the only woman who can handle us all, generous and giving. You never hold back, even if you’re tired or sick. You’re always there for us, every single male, and that’s not an easy feat given that we’re demanding assholes. So yes, baby girl. We love you and want you to be the one.”
And at that, Macy softens, those caramel eyes going liquid, her body relaxing for the first time in hours.
“I see,” is all she manages in a whisper, small hands releasing their tense grip on a sofa cushion. “I see.”
Immediately, I’m on my knees next to her, grabbing one small fist in my own. My brothers gather close, forming a protective circle.
“Will you, Macy Jones?” comes my urgent rumble. “Will you be our woman, the light of our lives, the mother of our child?”
And for the first time all night, happy tears come to the brunette’s eyes instead of sad. She manages a tremulous smile, clasping my hand in her own and squeezing tightly.
“I- I’ll try,” she stammers. But then the new Macy takes hold because she seizes my hand tighter and looks me straight in the eye before turning to include my brothers. “Yes, I’ll be yours. All of yours.”
And a low rumble rises from the Morgan boys, a growl of approval and ownership. Because this is the most important acquisition we’ve ever had in our lives. The brunette’s worth more than her weight in gold. Even if Macy doesn’t realize it yet, her presence, her goodness and light, are crucial to a peaceful, stable future for our family, and we’re overjoyed that she’ll be the linchpin that holds us together. Crowding in close, we kiss the beautiful girl, showering her with love, appreciating everything the brunette has to give.
“We adore you, Macy Jones,” comes our low rumble. “Always.”
And the girl writhes and twists beneath our lips and hands, moaning, yet filled with love, light and renewal. Because with these revelations, our future together is sealed, our heir assured … or so we think.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Macy
Six months later …
I’ve missed my period again. That’s two in a row.
Not that pregnancy should be surprising. After I left my parents’ home, the Morgan brothers took me to a fancy hotel. I was too out of it then to appreciate the luxurious surroundings, but we weren’t gonna stay there forever. With my new lovers, it’s all about stability and permanence, and hotel living is the opposite of that.
So within a week, the eight of us moved into a giant house on the outskirts of the city. It has nine bedrooms. Count ‘em, nine! What does anyone do with nine bedrooms? You’d think that each brother would have their own, and then one for me, plus an extra for guests.
But that’s not how it is at all. Instead, all eight of us are in the master suite most of the time, going at it hot and heavy. They’re either enjoying my body, taking turns enjoying my body, or watching others enjoy my body.
Depraved right? But it works great, and I’ve never been so fulfilled and satisfied. Caring, in the Morgan world, means making love constantly. And we’ve done a lot of it, it’s just how they communicate.
Of course, the brothers show their adoration in other ways as well. Like this giant chef’s kitchen that’s custom-designed and perfect in every way. It has a sub-zero fridge, a gorgeous temperature-controlled wine cooler, two convection ovens, and even a full set of Le Creuset fancy cast-iron pots, in case I want to go crazy. It’s pretty much straight out of a decorator’s magazine.
But the Morgans have taken it one step further because they installed special lights and mounts, and there are cameras everywhere, controlled via iPad. You can guess where this is going. That’s right, it’s a perfect set for a cooking show, every tool at my disposal, every single utensil you can think of to create perfect-looking food that’s camera-friendly and delicious.
Of course, I use it for other things as well. Just this afternoon, I filmed myself making a cherry pie. It started out innocently enough, me in a frilly blue apron, hair down, happily mixing flour and water.
