Battered Not Broken (9 page)

Ronan pressed his lips to her temple and
whispered against her skin, his breath fanning and warming the side
of her face, causing a shiver.

“There’s nothing wrong with what you did with
Max, Gilly. Nothing at all. I’m just jealous, and I have a feeling
Conner is even more so since he hasn’t touched you at all. He
hasn’t gotten a kiss, or gotten to taste your sweet cream. That’s
what we fought about, Gillian. Conner wants to make sure we don’t
take advantage of you or force you to do anything you don’t want,
and
he’s cranky because he hasn’t spent much time with you
alone.”

“Oh. Lord, take me now.”

Suddenly, she was lifted into Max’s arms and
thrown over his shoulder with a smack to her ass. This time, she
did squeal, like a pig. Thumping her fists to his lower back, she
screamed at him.

“What are you doing?”

“You said ‘take me now’, so I’m taking you.
Where do you want to go? The bedroom?” Max brought one hand up and
squeezed her ass, causing her to wiggle and squeal again. Part of
her wanted to scream “yes”, while the other knew there were some
things still to be sorted out. Most importantly, Gillian wanted to
know if Ronan had spoken the truth and there seemed to only be one
way to figure out if he had.

“How about wherever Conner is?”

Her question must have stolen the wind from
his sails. He pulled her off his shoulder, seating her on the
kitchen table.

“He’s still pretty riled, Gilly, you sure you
want to go see him now? You can wait till he’s calmed down…”

“Nope. Ronan, you got me some new clothes in
town, right?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. He didn’t seem to like
her idea any better than Max. Too bad.

“Well, give me my new clothes and point me in
the right direction.”

“You sure about this, Gilly?”

“Yes, I’m sure. If he’s not mad at me and
only upset because we haven’t spent time alone together, well, this
is his chance to say so and get some.” Lord, did she just say that?
“TIME! It’s his chance to get some time.”

Dressed in her new jeans, layered flannel
shirts, jacket and boots, Gillian set off into the snow-covered
wilderness, leaving two very unhappy men behind. They’d pointed her
in the right direction, mumbling about being careful and to stay on
the path, the whole time looking like little kids who’d had their
candy stolen. Tough, it was high time she made decisions for
herself and got used to confrontation. It seemed her life with
these three men would be full of it.

The thought made her stop dead in her tracks
and lean against a tree. Had her thoughts really wandered there?
Was she considering
staying
with the three brothers? No.
Good, moral women didn’t do things like live and love three men.
Love?
No, it wasn’t love either. Affection, maybe. Like, and
a connection, sure. But love? Nope, it was too soon to be love.

She wasn’t trudging through the snow, opening
her body up to new aches and pains for love. She wanted to make
sure Conner wasn’t mad and was okay. And maybe spend some time with
him alone to see if they had a connection like she did with Ronan
and Max.
Damn.
She really must have a "slut" tattoo
somewhere on her body.

Gillian pushed away from the tree, continuing
her journey to God only knew where. They’d told her it was a few
hundred yards away, but she felt like she’d walked that far and a
few thousand more. Oh well. One foot in front of the other—she’d
done it before—she trudged through the snow-filled mud. At least
this time, her body wasn’t wracked with shivers and shooting pains
as she walked. The clothes Conner and Ronan had purchased kept her
body relatively warm and comfortable, even in the freezing
temperatures.

Eyes glued to the ground, searching for the
trail the brothers had convinced her could easily be seen, she ran
straight into a tree, bumping her head on the trunk. The collision
knocked her flat on her ass. She landed with a grunt.

So much for following the path.

She wiped the snow and bark debris from her
hair, her fingers came away smeared in blood. Now they’d never let
her out of the house by herself. After a few minutes, the bleeding
seemed to stop and she hoisted her body from the ground. Ass soaked
from sitting in the snow, she looked around, trying to find the
trail. She couldn’t see the “unmissable” trail, but could hear the
gurgle of water in the distance. Hoping the sound came from the
river the brothers had said Conner liked to sit near, she took off
at a slow plod toward the noise.

Coming through the trees, she found Conner
just where Ronan and Max said he would be—sitting on a twenty-foot
high natural outcropping of rocks along the river’s edge, staring
into the water. The sound of the water muffled her approach, and he
didn’t turn to look at her until she’d nearly crawled onto the
mound next to him. When he did notice her, he acted as if the world
was coming to an end.

“Gillian! God! Are you okay?”

He jumped to his feet in one fluid movement
and pulled her into his arms. The Bearclaw brothers sure did seem
to have a thing with holding her. He lowered the two of them to the
cold stone, cradling her weight in his lap. As soon as he’d settled
her, he tugged off a glove and his cool fingers stroked the hair
out of her eyes. She leaned into the touch, craving the feel of his
skin against hers.

“Are you okay, Gillian? What happened,
poppet?”

She sighed and let her eyes close as she
snuggled closer to his warmth. She really did like his nickname for
her.

“Nothing. Well, a tree sort of happened, but
it doesn’t matter. I wanted to come looking for you. I heard you
three arguing, and I told Ronan and Max I wanted to leave…”

“You’re not leaving.”

His arms tightened around her. Smiling she
looked into a pair of eyes which seemed so like Ronan and Max’s,
but different just the same.

“No, I’m not. At least, I’m not if I’m
satisfied with our conversation.”

Conner stiffened beneath her, it felt like
she now sat on a wooden board instead of Conner’s fleshy lap, but
she snuggled closer, ignoring the tension humming through him.
Good, let him be the one on edge for once.

“What do you want to know? What can I say to
make you want to stay?”

“The truth. Nothing more than the truth.”

“You might not like the truth, and then
you’ll leave.”

She gazed at him and ran a finger down his
cheek. His stubble scratched her skin and causing goose bumps to
rise along her arm.

“Would you want to keep me with a lie?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then trust me the way I’ve trusted the three
of you for the past two days. Can you give me your trust,
Conner?”

Instead of answering, he lowered his head to
hers, brushing his lips in a soft sweet caress of skin against
skin. His weather-cold lips warmed with each kiss. Infused with
daring, she snaked her tongue out to slide along the seam of his
lips, savoring his flavor as she begged for entrance. Conner
obliged, spreading his heated lips he gave her free reign to
explore the moist cavern of his mouth.

Gillian surged closer to Conner and slid her
arms around his neck, tugging his chest to press against hers.
More.
She needed more. Sliding her hands beneath his jacket,
she clutched his back ran her fingers over the taut,
flannel-covered muscles.

Her tongue devoured Conner’s mouth, licking
and tasting his very essence; a mixture of hickory smoke and earth,
musky and strong, like him. He moaned against her lips as she
sucked his tongue, showing him others things she could do with her
mouth, her lips. She made sweeping, swirling motions in his mouth,
teasing and dancing as they both fought for dominance. Each time
she won, and she arched closer, pressed harder, demanding more.

Sliding her hands to his chest, she kneaded
the tightened muscles, felt the tense jerks each time she sucked
hard, and the delicate release of muscle as she released the
suction. His cock, hard and thick seemed to reach for her body
through the confines of his jeans and she did what she never
thought she’d do.

She skimmed Conner’s abdomen, stroking toward
her destination. Her fingertips brushed the button of his jeans,
the ice cold metal a stark contrast to the heat they had created.
With one quick flick, the button was undone. A swift tug on the
zipper and her fingers brushed the soft cotton of his underwear.
Did he wear boxers or briefs? She’d soon know.

Tearing her mouth from his, their gazes met,
a question visible in Conner’s eyes.

“Let me.” She breathed against his lips. A
plea. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, his
shaft in her mouth. “Please.”

Gillian wormed her hand into Conner’s jeans,
ignoring the tight squeeze, craving only to feel him in her hand,
his arousal for her. He gasped against her mouth, his eyes squeezed
shut when she managed to grasp his erection, her fingers not quite
managing to envelope him fully.
Long and thick, mmm.

“Questions.” He moaned against her mouth just
after she squeezed him. “You.”
Pant.
“Had questions.”

Gillian pulled back, flicking her tongue
along his lower lip, teasing him. She didn’t relinquish her hold on
his cock, but gave him a bit of breathing room. Rubbing the tip of
her nose against his, she whispered against his lips, anxious for
his answers as she had plans for the cock in her hand. Never before
had she ever felt so empowered, so free to do as she pleased. These
three men wrenched those feelings out by showering her with freedom
and caring.

“Were you angry for what I did with Max? Or
Ronan? They said you were jealous, but not angry. Which was
it?”

Conner closed his eyes and pressed his
forehead to hers, and took a deep breath. “You want to talk about
that now? Here? With your hand…”

Gillian tightened said hand and nodded. “Yes,
here, now. Talk fast, make it good and I promise to make you a
happy man.”

Wow!
Where had all this bravado and
sexual aggression come from? Before meeting the three brothers’
she’d been withdrawn, and always turned inward during sex, of any
kind. Sex with Kyle had been when…
No.
She wouldn’t think
about that. Wouldn’t think about the stench of alcohol on his
breath, or what always managed to follow their “lovemaking”. Not
when she had another man’s cock in her hand.

He moaned and sucked in a harsh breath, she
slid her hand further into his pants, searching for his balls.
“Both. Oh God, Gilly. Stop. Wait, don’t stop.” Her fingers found
the tender skin where the skin of his shaft stretched lower and
transformed to his sensitive scrotum.

“Both?” she queried, anxious to hear his
explanation and get her lips around him. Scratching his skin
through the fabric of his boxers, or maybe briefs, she waited for
her answer.

“Both.” His breath came in harsh pants, the
sound warring with that of the river below. “Jealous. Wanted to be
with you.” Conner swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple dancing along
his throat. “Angry. Thought they took…” She tightened her grip, and
taking advantage of the space she’d fought for in his pants,
stroked him from balls to tip and back again. “Advantage.” The word
came out on a sigh, his breath fanning softly across the skin of
her cheek.

So sweet, her Conner. So sweet and caring
he’d nearly screamed the house down twice when he thought his
brothers had taken advantage of her. First, when they’d just
awoken, and again when he’d arrived home. While he had gotten angry
unnecessarily both times, her heart melted for the man she held so
near.

“They didn’t take advantage, Conner.”

He closed the distance between them, brushing
his lips against hers. “No?”

“No.”

Reaching the top of his underwear, she prayed
her hand had warmed while buried within Conner’s jeans. Slipping
her fingers beneath the waistband, the feeling of silken steel
against her palm sent a shiver through her body and Conner jerked
in response.

Legs widening beneath her let Gillian slide
to the ground beneath Conner’s thighs, getting comfortable for what
she had planned. Sitting on her heels, hand still buried and tight
around his cock, she milked him softly as she tugged at his jeans
and made more room.

“Gilly…”

“Mine, Conner. Save the protests for
later.”

Pulling the cotton fabric of his underwear
down, she exposed his erection to the harsh winter winds.

“Fuck! It’s cold!” he yelled, but didn’t move
to stop her. Obviously couldn’t be too cold, Gillian thought with a
secret smile.

The cinnamon-toned, mushroom-shaped head of
his cock leaked droplets of pre-come that begged her mouth to
taste. Leaning forward, she flicked the salty sweet fluid from his
slit, rolling the bit of his essence around in her mouth. Going
back for a second taste, she sucked the tip of his shaft into her
mouth, running her tongue along the crown as she familiarized
herself with his body.

His hand sifted through her curls, brushing
them away so he could cup her cheek. Gillian froze under his
caress. Her heart pounded as she waited for his next move, what his
demand would be. Would he wrap his hand in her hair, forcing his
cock down her throat? She waited for the tension, the pressure as
he “guided” her to do his bidding, but it never came. His touch
remained gentle and feather-light as she ventured to take more of
him, never demanding she rush.

Willing her heart to calm, she inhaled a deep
breath of the frost-laden air, begging her wayward thoughts to
cease. Conner wasn’t Kyle. Period. She needed to remember the
distinction.

Widening her mouth, she slid further down
Conner’s pulsing shaft, slicking him with her saliva as she
endeavored to take him fully. His moan of appreciation could be
felt through her body; nothing existed for her but him at the
moment, him and his cock. Tapping her tongue along his erection,
she raised and lowered her head, riding his cock with her mouth,
doing her best to grant him pleasure. His hand remained light,
cupping her face, his thumb drawing circles on her cheekbone as she
sucked him. She moaned around his cock and her pussy grew damp with
each flick, lick, and suck she gave.