Regan [The Sisters O'Ryan 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 9

  Regan choked on a bite.

  “Ain’t likely to find that,” Seth said. “I think if need be I’ll have to admit to livin’ in sin. And when that poor, toothless woman—”

  “Toothless!”

  “—travelin’ with me found that I love a beautiful woman like Regan, she ran off with a broken heart, knowin’ she could never compete.”

  Hay gave it a moment’s thought. “Works for me,” he said agreeably.

  “I’ll find out where the nearest preacher is. We should get hitched as soon as possible, I think.”

  Hay nodded. “I agree. We’re probably on our own out here, but no need to take chances with your reputation, Regan.”

  “That seems strange to think about, considering what we’ve decided to do. Seth, you will be careful, won’t you?”

  Last night Regan made his blood run hot. Now, heat flowed through him that differed from the sexual need he associated with her.

  Being worried over was a feeling he’d long since forgotten. He’d left his mama behind to run cattle on a ranch when he turned seventeen, then left Sue, the woman who supposedly loved him, a few years later for the war. He thought both women cared what happened to him, probably worried about his welfare. But they were years in his past. Regan’s concern reflected in her eyes right now, directly across the table from him. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

  “A little rain won’t hurt me,” he said, coming off gruffly.

  “I know,” she said with a soft smile that melted his heart. “I can’t help but worry about my men.”

  He reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

  “We appreciate it,” Hay said. “Do you want me to come, Seth?”

  “Nah, you’d just be a distraction. Koda and I got some catching up to do.” He grinned. Hay shook his head.

  “When will you be home?” Regan wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and propped her elbows on the table.

  “If everything goes well, by supper. If not, then by supper tomorrow. Anything we need?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “Those bolts for the wellhead.” Hay stretched out his legs and lounged back in the chair. “And I’d like to take a few minutes to write a couple letters to be posted.”

  “Sure.”

  Hay took a final drink of coffee then left for the bunkhouse.

  He and Regan settled into comfortable silence. Then she said, “I think you and Hay should move in here.”

  “I think we should wait until after we’re married.”

  She smiled. Leaning forward, she took his hand in both of hers. “Seth Pratt, you are a mystery. I thought I fell in love with a wild cowboy and find instead a very conventional man.”

  He squirmed. “I’m no prude.”

  “Heavens! You proved that well enough last night.”

  He smiled and enjoyed the twinkle in her eyes. “And I’ll prove it again.”

  “I can’t wait.” Her breathless answer set his heart racing. His cock rose. Would she be the least interested in rushing back to bed while Hay wrote his letters?

  “Seth?” She stood and came around the table. Settling on his right knee, she unbuttoned her dress and guided his hand to her breast. “Are you too conventional for this?”

  Her soft skin beneath his fingers spiked the lust roiling within him. “Try to get me to stop,” he whispered. White-hot desire rushed through him. “Are you sure you want me inspired to lust?”

  “Very sure.” She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him with a fervor that surprised him. They had made love several times last night. Did she realize that Hay would be hot to have her to himself today?

  “Make love to me. Do we have time?” she asked when she broke their kiss to take a breath.

  “There’s time,” he got out. “Are you sure you’re not too tired, too sore?”

  “Oh, my love, can’t you feel the pounding of my heart? I want you.”

  Seth didn’t waste time with words. He lifted her from his lap and turned her to face him. “Remove your bloomers.”

  She bent to follow his instructions. He placed his stump at her waist and raised her hem with his hand before bringing her forward to straddle his lap. In seconds, he unbuttoned his trousers, setting free his straining erection.

  Her breathing became labored before he penetrated her cunt. “Slow down, darlin’,” he cautioned.

  “I don’t want to. I want all of you right now. Hurry.”

  “God, Regan.” He thrust forward, gratified when he discovered her moisture already flowed enough to ease his entry. She offered her lips, and he drank greedily. His tongue stabbed her mouth just as his dick pierced her pussy. Her arms tightened around his neck, pressing her body close to his, scraping the bodice of her dress against his shirt. Her heat drove away all thoughts of the chilly, probably wet, ride ahead. He lifted her and then drove her down onto his cock. Her moans pushed him onward, rushing them to climax.

  Suddenly, she threw back her head and cried out. Her pussy convulsed, holding him tightly, resisting his natural urge to move. Heaven broke over him, and he pushed in, pulsing strongly, emptying himself into the remarkable woman clinging to his neck.

  She dropped her head to his shoulder, gasping in air. If Hay came running through the door at that moment screaming gold had been found out by the barn, he’d tell his friend to take it all. He couldn’t move if all hell broke around them.

  Regan kissed his neck, over and over. He wrapped her in his arms and held tight. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? If not for Hay, he would have taken off last night, too afraid to trust. Revealing his arm to her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Thank God he had.

  “Regan, Hay will be here with you all day.”

  She nuzzled his ear. “I know. He’ll keep me safe.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. I just wondered if you’d given thought to, um…”

  She sat up and examined his eyes. “We’re a family, the three of us, aren’t we?”

  “Sure, but will you—”

  “Will you be able to handle it?” Her expression softened. She stroked his head, smoothing his hair.

  “Yes. I just worry that you don’t understand about men and their appetites.”

  She smiled at that. “I don’t always fit into expected patterns of behavior for women who were ‘raised right,’ as my father would say. I’ve discovered to my delight that I have appetites of my own.”

  “Then, darlin’, we’re a trio made in heaven.” And he thanked God again that he had found her. Correction. That he and Hay had found her, for there could be no doubt that sharing Regan presented erotic opportunities Seth had only dreamed of. He couldn’t wait to start.

  * * * *

  Hay spent as much time as he could justify writing his letters and then seeing Seth off. Even then he took an inordinate amount of time in the bunkhouse, preparing himself to be with Regan. He’d never fought nervousness with any other woman, a sure sign that this one mattered to him a great deal.

  His family would be sorely disappointed in him, his mother horrified and his father damning him for a fool. But then, what else was new? Perhaps he was acting the fool, playing second fiddle to Seth. He surely would never accept a junior role to any other man, living or dead. And his acquiescence to Seth had nothing to do with the loss of his forearm.

  Shit. Maybe it does. He wished he’d known Seth before the war. As strong and determined a man as he was now, he must have been nearly superhuman back then.

  But he thought his putting Seth ahead of what he wished rather had more to do with the fact that Seth had seen the lady first, had had feelings for her first, and wanted what Regan wanted first. Hell, he didn’t know if he shared Regan and Seth’s dream of farming even now. At least that was a good reason for allowing Seth to be the groom—if Hay changed his mind he could leave her in good conscience.

  “‘It’s high time,’” Hay muttered.

  He left the bunkhouse with a purposeful str
ide. Knocking softly on the door but hearing no entreaty to enter, he let himself in. Maybe she didn’t want him after all. He knew for a fact, having shared many a night whoring with Seth in the past, that the man had an appetite. Did Regan decide one man was plenty enough for her to handle and Seth had the lead?

  He heard her in the bedroom. Treading quietly, he moved to the doorway where he spied her studying her naked reflection in a stand mirror. Without thinking he blurted, “Beautiful!”

  She swirled to face him, laughing nervously. “I half expected to see horns growing from my head or glowing eyes.”

  “A demon?” he asked. She nodded. “If so, a seductive demon.”

  No demon stood before him. A normal, healthy woman looked back. Reddened lips settled into a slight pout that looked imminently kissable. Her hazel eyes shone. Months on the westward trek had honed her curves into shapely muscle, enhancing her breasts, narrowing her waist, and toning her hips and thighs. Her hair shone with the lustrous sheen of a child. All in all, she presented an angelic vision.

  “Thank you. Where’s Seth?”

  At the question, his earlier doubts surged through him. He took half a step back. “Headed out. He’s trying to get as far as he can before the storm. Do you need him?”

  “What’s this? Confident, suave Haywood Lawrence has a streak of insecurity?” She held out her arms. “Come here.”

  Chapter Nine

  Regan understood Seth’s reason for holding back, but what had hurt Hay? He stood for a moment, making no commitment. Then he walked into her arms.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” he whispered, dropping kisses on her jaw and down to her neck.

  Her heart lodged in her throat. Her breath came fast and shallow. When he touched his lips to her breast her knees weakened.

  “Don’t hold back,” she said on a moan.

  He lifted her and took the three steps necessary to reach the wall. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Switching off hands, he still held her butt firmly while he slipped off suspenders. Fumbling between them, he unbuttoned his trousers, those same tailored trousers that fit him so well and showed him for the wealthy man he was. Suddenly, he changed directions, and before she knew it, his fingers slid into her pussy.

  Back against the wall, she wrapped her arms around his head, holding him close as his tongue coaxed her nipple into his hot mouth. He sucked hard, swirling his tongue around her nipple. He stroked her passage, conjuring an overload of sensations. She moved her hips, pushing herself over his fingers until his palm covered her pussy. His thumb worked her clit. A storm broke over her, like those in the Carolina mountains, starting gently then building to a force that blocked everything else from her mind.

  Sometime in the midst of the storm Hay replaced his fingers with his erection. Nuzzling her neck and whispering words she didn’t recognize, he pounded into her, each thrust teasing her from the inside out. The spiral began again, or maybe it never ended. Hunger drove her response, pushed her to meet his every advance, each withdrawal and surge forward, matching his rhythm.

  “Yes, yes!”

  “Don’t hold back,” Hay ground out, giving back her words.

  She didn’t, letting herself ride the tide of her senses. Once more lightning flashed behind her closed eyelids and thunder roared in her ears. The storm ruled her body and robbed all thought.

  “Oh, God,” Hay moaned into her ear. Rigid, he pressed her into the smooth wood. His cock pulsed, and his hot seed mixed with her cream.

  They stood in silence, catching their breath. Then Hay set her on the floor until he removed his clothes. He carried her to the bed where he stretched out beside her. Wrapped in the warmth of his arms, she let out a heavy breath and nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

  “What was that sigh for?” he asked. “Are you having regrets?”

  She pushed up onto her elbow to see his face. “Not for a second. Are you?”

  He grinned, showing his dimples. “Not for a second.”

  “Good.” She settled beside him again.

  A few minutes of listening to their steady breathing almost lulled her to sleep.

  “Were you a virgin when you married?”

  Startled, she choked out a laugh. “What?”

  “A day ago you proposed—almost literally—to two men. That’s not something even the most libidinous woman I know would do. Yet I’d bet anything you were a virgin when you married the only man you’ve ever been with.”

  How astute he was. “You’re right, of course. Until yesterday, I’d only been with Davey. Good thing I didn’t know before how exhilarating it would be to love two men. My father would have had apoplexy instead of just disowning me.”

  “Did he? Why?”

  “Having a mind of my own.”

  His hand absently stroked her shoulder. “Well, you certainly do have that. It must have been holy hell raising a child as innovative as you. But that’s no reason to disown your own daughter.”

  “My father had plans, including his idea of whom I should marry.”

  “And your Romeo didn’t fit the bill, fair Juliet?”

  She recalled her father’s condemnation of Davey. He can’t provide for you the way you’re accustomed. He has no follow-through, no ambition. He’s a spendthrift who will waste whatever money you bring to the marriage. If you choose to marry a store clerk, you’ll have your dowry and the inheritance from your mother and not another penny, do you understand? If you have so little respect for me and my wishes, you’re no longer my daughter. Don’t come crying to me when things go wrong.

  “Davey didn’t measure up to my father’s expectations. He was a good man, though.”

  “She loved him, but in the end, Romeo did disappoint Juliet.” Hay’s voice was soft, almost sleepy. His hand kept up a steady, gentle motion up and down her upper arm letting her know he expected a response. “Could you not turn to your family for help when your husband died?”

  She knew what he asked. If they were to make a go of their family unit, honesty had to take priority over embarrassment. “When you virtually spit in someone’s eye, it’s hard later to admit they were correct.”

  “Have you heard from your father since you left Asheville?”

  “No.” Tears stung her eyes. She blinked to hold them back.

  “Then we have that in common also. I haven’t seen or spoken to my father since the cannons fired at Fort Sumter.”

  How sad he sounded. “Oh, Hay, I’m so sorry. If I have learned one thing on this trip west, it’s the value of family.”

  He stayed silent so long she thought he had fallen asleep. “I hope we make a success of the farm so you can tell your father that you made good. Your husband didn’t exceed his expectations, but you will.”

  Regan turned and propped her chin on his chest. He had less chest hair than Seth. His torso was longer and leaner, but firm and tight, his arms strong, his stomach flat.

  “Now I have husbands my father couldn’t help but admire.”

  He laughed. Left arm under his head, he brushed back a strand of her hair with his right index finger. “I can’t help but think he’d have a fit when he heard the plural form of ‘husband.’”

  “Well, yes, there is that.” She smiled. “But he would approve of both of you.” She stopped a second. “Maybe you more than Seth. Father is set in his ways, I’m afraid, and class plays a large part in them.”

  “Seth is a fine man.”

  “You two were lucky to find each other.”

  “I know, I thank God I found him. And now I have you to be thankful for.” He pulled her up for a deep kiss. Guiding her hand down his torso, he wrapped her fingers around a very long, very strong erection. She hadn’t taken time to examine Seth’s member yesterday, but she planned to take her time now with Hay. Scooting down his chest, she faced the object of her interest. And her desire.

  Even though he pierced her with his member a few minutes before, Regan was unpr
epared for the size of the spear she stared at. She hadn’t clearly seen Seth, but she had held him in her hand and her mouth. He and Hay claimed lengths and girth she couldn’t imagine many other men could boast. She marveled that this, this monster, had slid in and out of her with such ease, but not that it had brought her such pleasure. How could it not, caressing each and every inch of her woman’s passage with his confident, sure strokes? A tingle blossomed in her lower regions just touching him.

  Veins lined the inches of long shaft, making the skin both rough and satiny, a dichotomy she found interesting. But the large head, a deep purple, felt like satin beneath her fingertip. Gently she rubbed it, marveling when clear liquid eased from the slit on the top. She licked it as she would a chip of ice on a hot summer day. Hay gasped but didn’t stop her.

  “Good?” she asked.

  “Very good.”

  She tilted her head to the side and swiped her tongue across the convex.

  “More, faster. I do indeed ‘desire too much of a good thing.’”

  She flicked her tongue across his crown, lapping at another jewel of liquid that appeared. He reached down to pull her hair away from her face. When she glanced up, he watched with half-lidded eyes, breathing softly through his mouth.

  She lifted her head to take him directly, holding him firmly in her lips while sinking as far as she could go. He pushed up to meet her and held her head in a tender grip while she ran her tongue up and down the vein along the bottom of his erection.

  “God!” He drew back and tugged on her head until her mouth held only the crown then pushed down again as he flexed his hips. In that way he set a rhythm, slow and erotic.

  Regan grasped the bottom of his cock and twisted as she made her descent, using her tongue like a brush to cover his surface with her moisture. He moved his leg, pushing against her until she knelt with one leg between his. Then he bent his knee so that his leg brushed her pussy lips each time she sank onto him. She pressed against his leg, rubbing her clitoris over his taut muscles. Faster she went, rubbing, pressing, sinking, licking. Her tongue became a living thing. Her mouth swallowed more of his cock, her lips hugging him, her hand twisting the base of his cock one minute and caressing his scrotum the next.