Battered Not Broken (7 page)

“Max! What are you doing, I’m not done!”

“But they are, Gilly, and they’re ready to
turn their attentions to us.”

Glancing back at Conner and Ronan, she
realized that Max was right. They had both jumped up and were
stomping toward the porch. Smacking Max on the ass, she urged him
to move.

“Run, Max, they’re coming!” Giggles fought
with the twinge of fear over what would happen when the two hulking
men caught them.

Max made it through the front door before his
brothers caught them and plopped her down on the couch in the
living room and stood between her and his brothers.

“Move it, Max,” Conner and Ronan barked.

“Okay.” He held his hands up and moved out of
their way.

So much for my valiant protector.

“Uh, guys. It was a joke. I got mad at you
for fighting and…”

They were on her in a second. Tickling every
inch of her body they could get their hands on. Growling when they
got a good spot and her laughter filled the room, smearing mud and
melted snow all over her. By the time she cried “uncle”, she was
soaked and covered in mud from head to toe, as was the couch and a
good part of the floor.

Gasping for air, she sat on the couch between
the two men. Remembering why she’d gone outside with Max in the
first place, she smacked both of their thighs.

“You idiots! You scared me half to death! One
minute I thought you were going to break down the door and the next
I thought you were going to kill each other. Don’t you ever do that
again—at least, not during my visit.”

The three brothers shared a look before Ronan
spoke. “Sorry, Gillian. We’ve been together, just the three of us,
for a long time and tend to settle disagreements with fists.” She’d
turned her attention to him the moment he began speaking and she
leaned into his touch when he cupped her cheek. It seemed so
natural and reminded her of the kiss they’d shared the night
before. She didn’t jump or pull back when his lips brushed
hers.

A warm hand encircled her wrist and out of
the corner of her eye, she could see Max crouched before her. He
pressed a tender kiss to the palm of her right hand and when
another set of lips kissed the palm of her left…it felt right.

Two hours, four showers, two eggs, bacon,
toast, and a coffee later, Gillian didn’t know what to do with
herself. She watched as Conner and Ronan bumped down the driveway
and out of sight in their four-wheel drive pick-up truck, complete
with towing wench. They’d promised that their trip out would result
in warm clothes for her and the return of her car, one way or
another.

She prayed that the "one way" they hinted at
was not that her car would be towed behind their truck. Because
that would mean that the hunk of metal wouldn’t start. It was just
something she wasn’t ready to consider yet. Being in their cabin,
surrounded by their presence was all right short-term.

When their lips touched her body, all at the
same time, she’d felt a zing of awareness shoot through her. It
skittered along her nerves, just beneath the skin and materialized
as a foreign awareness in her mind. Almost as if she could…
No.
That wasn’t possible.

The novelty of having three identical men
giving her three nearly identical looks and kisses was toying with
her mind. Better to nip those thoughts in the bud now. No sense in
imagining or interpreting their attentions for anything other than
simple old-world chivalry. Nothing more.

Okay, maybe Ronan’s kiss was more. The quiet,
brooding type didn’t usually catch her attention, but maybe things
were changing. For the better, she hoped. With Ronan’s apparent
claim by capturing her lips when he apologized, Gillian wondered
how he’d react to the knowledge that his brothers had kissed her
palms. Would he be jealous? Would Ronan hand out a few bruises to
Conner and Max as soon as they were alone? She hoped not. More than
anything, she didn’t want violence or dissention to arise from her
attraction to Ronan.

Who was she kidding, she was attracted to all
of them. They should bring a tattoo artist back with them and have
“Hopeless Slut” tattooed to her forehead. At least then people
would know what type of person they were talking to. The type that
would wander into a home, fall asleep in someone’s bed, wake to
three gorgeous men staring at her, and after a series of events
that made her head spin just thinking about, fantasize about all
three of them—separately, and together. S. L. U. T.

“Whatcha thinking about over there? So
serious.”

Heat suffused her face, but she ignored
it.

“Nothing,” she lied.

“Uh huh.”

Flopping onto the center of the couch right
next to her, he pulled her feet into his lap before she could utter
a protest. Not that she would protest…well, maybe a token protest,
but she would’ve given in, which made the attempt at a protest
pointless. So she didn’t.

Max clicked the TV on, but lowered the volume
before tossing the remote onto the coffee table. He must have seen
her confused look because he answered her unvoiced question.

“Background noise. Can’t stand a quiet
house.”

“Oh.”

“So, Miss Gillian No-last-name, tell me about
yourself.”

“Maybe I’m an axe-murderer out to get
you.”

She’d play coy and joke her way through this.
Thinking and speaking of the truth just hurt.

Max’s hand encircled her wrist and slid up
her arm, past her elbow to her bicep. He squeezed for a fraction of
a second before opening his hand and nudging the side of her breast
and then squeezing again. She gasped and jerked against his hold,
but didn’t push him away. The surreptitious touch felt too good,
sending tingles of arousal through her body. Gillian’s nipples
tightened in response, pushing against the cotton t-shirt she’d
borrowed from Conner.

“No offense, Gilly, but you haven’t got the
muscles for it.” He opened and closed his hand again, fingers
brushing the sensitive skin through cloth before sliding his hand
back to her wrist, his eyes locked on her the whole time. “How
about your last name?”

Did he see the truth in her eyes? That she
was as aroused by his touch as she was by Ronan’s kisses.

“Locke.” Had her voice dropped a few
decibels?

“Miss Gillian Locke. Nice to meet you.”

Max flashed a smile, but the teasing glint in
his eyes had yet to leave. He was up to something.

His hand left her wrist and settled on the
top of her thigh while the other stroked the calf on her other leg.
She was wearing yet another pair of pajama bottoms donated by one
of the brothers, so she was clothed, but for some reason she felt
nearly naked under his gaze.

He traced tiny circles with his fingertips on
top of the cloth, sometimes tracing the printed pattern for a while
before returning to the miniscule circles. Was it getting hot in
the cabin? Maybe they should put out the fire. Her eyes darted to
the fireplace and noticed it was dark.
Damn, no fire.
Max’s
hand burrowed through the extra inches of fabric at the hem of the
pants and felt their way up her pant leg.

The sensations of his skin on hers brought
those feeling she’d been trying to ignore back. It was almost as if
she could feel him feeling her. But that didn’t make sense.

Swallowing hard, she forced words past her
lips, words she didn’t really mean, but thought she should
voice.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t do this?” His hand
beneath her pants rose higher, stroking every inch of skin he
could. “Or this?” Max spread the fingers of the hand on her thigh,
his thumb coming dangerously close to where she ached to be touched
the most.

All she could do was moan.

S. L. U. T.

“Max, you don’t understand. I don’t want to
get between you three and last night…”

“You kissed my brother.”

She shot straight up.

“Exactly. Which is why your hands should
stop…you
know.
”

“Making you feel good? I can see your pulse
in your neck, hear your breathing—you’re enjoying this a little
bit, Gilly. Don’t deny it.”

Oh, she wouldn’t deny it, but she couldn’t
let him continue. She didn’t owe Ronan anything, but making out
with his brother didn’t exactly feel right.

“I’m not going to deny it, but Max…”

“We share a special bond, Gillian. To find a
woman we are all attracted to has been a lifelong dream of ours.
Ronan won’t be jealous or angry if I make you feel good.” His hand
on her thigh dipped lower, closer to her heat and he tightened his
grip. One inch higher and he’d… “Let me make you feel good,
Gillian.”

She didn’t say no, but she didn’t say yes
either. She whimpered. An honest-to-God whimper formed in her
throat and emanated from behind her closed lips.

Max must have taken the noise for a yes. His
body shifted and moved as he repositioned her legs to his choosing.
Now she lay back on the couch, her legs on either side of his hips
as he sat himself between them. A hungry, feral look passed over
his face before he smiled. Her heart sped up, but quickly calmed
when she saw his smile, his laid-back look instantly putting her at
ease. Of course, that quickly ended when he ripped the crotch of
her pajama bottoms right out, exposing the juncture of her thighs
to the cool cabin air.

“Max!”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. Just a little impatient.”
His hands grasped her upper thighs, thumbs rubbing along the skin
where her leg and pelvis met. That sensitive area that only seemed
to come alive under a man’s touch tingled with every swipe of his
thumb. “Better?”

What? Did he say something?
Gillian
wasn’t sure. She was too busy enjoying what Max was doing with his
hands. No man had ever touched her so intimately without rushing
and with only regard to her enjoyment. This was…nice.

“Gillian?”

“Hmm?”

Her eyes drifted close as his hands stroked
her body. She felt him shift and move, but the gentle assault of
his fingers continued so she didn’t bother opening her eyes. It
felt so damn good. Her clit tingled and ached as it filled with
blood. Her core clenched as his fingers shifted to her nether lips,
and along the outer edge of her slit.

Gillian widened her legs, dropping one foot
to the floor, she pressed her other knee into the cushions lining
the back of the couch. Max’s chuckle reached her ears as his breath
feathered across her skin. Eyes flying open, she looked down her
body into Max’s. Her body tensed and she moved to close her thighs,
but he wouldn’t let her.

“Max?”

“So beautiful, Gillian. Especially here.”

Beautiful was not what any man had called
that
area, ever. Odorous, maybe.
Oral sex on her?
Disgusting, from what Kyle said. What was he doing down there? His
fingers worked just fine, thanks. He could sit up and pleasure her
just as well.

“Max…”

“Please, Gillian. Just let me…”

She watched in open-mouthed awe as he lowered
his lips to her pussy and licked a path from her ass to the top of
her slit. His tongue skimmed her skin, not penetrating or
separating the aching lips, but teasing them. Max’s tongue
disappeared into his mouth as he smiled.

“Delicious.”

Delicious?
No, she was
not
delicious.

Max leaned forward again and she held her
breath, waiting for the feeling of his tongue on her again. This
time, he pressed his face to her body, and inhaled. The sound
echoed in the room.

“Heavenly. You smell like heaven.”

Gillian was about to argue, but his tongue
distracted her. Just when she opened her mouth to contradict him,
he opened his and licked the top of her slit. Sifting through her
curls, his tongue found her sensitive inner flesh and stroked it.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

His fingers played again, stroking her outer
lips before pulling them apart. He was looking at her, there. But
when his tongue swiped her inner lips from core to clit, she didn’t
care. She only cared about the sensations he was causing in her
body.

Arousal tingled and traveled through her body
and her breasts felt fuller, heavier as her nipples tightened. God,
how they needed to be pinched and pulled. The feelings didn’t stop
there though. They traveled, skittering along her nerves, making
her feel as if her entire body was being touched and stroked.

Max’s tongue continued its exploration of her
heat, licking and sucking from clit to core and back again. He
paused occasionally to thrust his tongue into her opening, flicking
her inner walls and running his tongue around the rim. Damn, she
needed something in there! She’d never craved something as much as
she was craving a cock, a finger, something!

As if reading her mind, one of Max’s hands
abandoned its post of holding her open to him to thrust into her
heat. Arching her back, she cried out, thankful for the large
fingers filling her.

“That’s it, Gilly. Damn, so sweet.” His
tongue swirled around her clit, causing her to moan and grind
against his mouth.

“So.”
Lick.

“Fucking.”
Flick.

“Sweet.”
Suck.

It was the sucking that did it. She lost
control. Her hands flew to tangle in his hair, pressing his head
tighter against her pussy as she shifted and moved against him. His
fingers,
damn,
his fingers did something magical within her
body. They thrust and shifted in time with her movements until they
pressed against her body in a way she’d never experienced.

Gillian’s body clenched and tightened as she
focused on the sensations Max was coaxing from her body. The
muscles lining her inner core clenched and tightened around his
fingers of their own volition. She’d lost the ability to restrain
her body’s response to him. His mouth latched onto her aching,
pulsing clit and he sucked and flicked in time with his hand as he
pushed her closer to completion. And she wanted it, wanted it so
badly she could almost taste it.