Shared Too
Shared Too
A sequel to
Shared.
Ten years on I’m still convinced I’m the luckiest woman on earth. Two devastatingly gorgeous husbands committed to my satisfaction—phew!—life doesn’t get much better
or
much sexier.
But as though the mere concept of a perfect existence was created to be shattered, one day Quinn turned to me and said, “Shared too. I want to be shared too.” Add in the monster that haunted my nightmares and I was struggling to keep a grip on my sanity.
I soon realized the path Quinn wanted us to travel would stretch not only
his
experience of giving and taking, but also mine and Liam’s. In a whirlwind of desperate emotions, dark desires and erotic fantasy, we were all so distant but also so sublimely close. Sharing had never been as sweet as it was bitter, or as depraved as it was heavenly.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Shared Too
ISBN 9781419933035
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Shared Too Copyright © 2011 Lily Harlem
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication April 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
SHARED TOO
Lily Harlem
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Aga: AGA Rangemaster Group plc
Armani: Giorgio Armani S.p.A.
Audi: Audi A.G. Corporation
Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Barclays: Barclays Bank PLC
Coca Cola: The Coca-Cola Company
Eastenders
: The British Broadcasting Corporation Frankenstein: Universal City Studios, Inc.
Levi’s: Levi Straus & Co.
Louvre: Musée du Louvre
Mercedes: DaimlerChrysler AG Corporation
Range Rover: Land Rover Company
Sex and the City
: Home Box Office, Inc.
Lily Harlem
Chapter One
I’ve never come alone before. Liam has always come with me.
In fact, I’d just driven past the turnoff for the boutique hotel he’d booked us into for an entire afternoon this same day last year. I smiled at the memory and my heart did a little skip of pleasure.
We’d been about halfway home, the horse trailer light and empty and the car oddly quiet after we’d delivered the twins and their ponies to Standford Equestrian School for Girls. He’d leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Baby, I can’t wait until we get back to the farm. Detour through Little Mickelton so I can get us a room and bury myself deep inside you for a few hours.” His eyes had twinkled naughtily and his large hand had covered mine as I’d held the steering wheel.
Remembering that afternoon sent a shiver of desire snaking up my spine, my nipples tightened beneath my sweater. He’d been so desperate, so urgent. We’d done it up against the door the first time, without even glancing at the exquisite room we’d been given. Fast and furious, we’d raked at each other—shoes and jackets still on, my legs clamped around his hips. He’d pressed a hand over my mouth as I’d orgasmed, my yelp of satisfaction loud and obvious in the deathly quiet hotel. Though he’d done nothing to dampen the sounds of his own long, hard release—calling out my name and groaning loudly into my neck.
I concentrated on the traffic and took the road toward Monmouth and Cardiff. Soon I would be home. My stomach gave a rumble and once again I thought of The Cotswold Hotel.
Along with a pot of tea, Liam had ordered scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. Then as I’d lounged naked on the delicate brocade of the duvet, he’d proceeded to use my stomach as his plate, licking and swirling the cream into my navel, 6
Shared Too
pressing sticky red jam to my skin and finally spreading my thighs and feasting on my pussy like a starving man.
Squirming on the seat of my Range Rover, a fizz of pleasure tugged at my clit. The man was beyond talented when it came to using his mouth on me and I missed him so much when we weren’t together. Today especially. Not just because we could have stopped off for a repeat of those delicious few hours, but also because the two-hundred-mile round-trip and saying farewell to the girls is always easier with Liam’s reassuringly solid presence in the passenger seat.
But today he couldn’t come. No way. He had a commitment to Yoni Commercial that had to be the priority. The girls understood. Of course they did. They always understood their fathers’ responsibilities.
I, however, was struggling.
If only Quinn could have switched around his meeting with Barratts Medical International and accompanied me just this once. But he was asking for two million pounds. Two million was the amount he needed to continue his pioneering research into treating brain tumors with immune suppressants. He’d been working specifically on astrocytoma for three years. The research was in its infancy but still, it was a meeting he had to attend and the meeting just happened to be today.
So now, driving down the M50, I took a swig of my latte and blinked back a tear. I would miss Sophie and Rebecca like I would miss my limbs over the coming few days.
It was always the way. Then the hollow would become bearable. I would chat to them on the phone. Hear how their ponies Bramble and Jasper were getting on with their dressage and jumping. How Sophie was coping with the dreaded math and whether or not Rebecca had managed to overcome her obsession with the cafeteria’s hot chocolate.
The first few days were always the worst, then I’d be looking forward to the Christmas break. Counting down the days until our daughters and their beloved ponies were back at the farm, clattering around the yard and filling up the laundry with mud-caked jodhpurs.
7
Lily Harlem
Finally I turned onto our tree-lined drive and began the half-mile crunch up the gravel to the farmhouse. The autumn sun was low and the huge oak trees that circled the paddock were like something out of a children’s fairytale—thick ancient branches and long shadows darkening the toadstool-flooded floor.
I parked next to the barn, banged my wellington boots onto the cobbles and unhooked the horse trailer with a well-practiced yank. Drake and Billy came charging over. Tails wagging, tongues lolling, thrilled I’d returned after a day away. I patted their heads, cooed words of welcome and headed across the yard to the main house.
Several hens scattered out of my way clucking impatiently, then resumed pecking at the stones in hope of finding seeds left over from their morning feed.
The kitchen’s stable-style door was half open and I let myself in, hurriedly shutting it so the dogs didn’t follow. Liam had no problem with the dogs in the house and neither did I, but their hairs drove Quinn crazy. He couldn’t bear flopping onto the couch and finding Drake’s blond Labrador hairs sticking to his sweater or Billy’s curled terrier hairs clinging to his behind when he stood. “Unhygienic,” he always moaned, rubbing his hands over his lean legs and pert butt.
Dogs and boots safely outside, I lifted Betsy, our fat black cat, from the huge pine table in the center of the kitchen. She knew she wasn’t allowed up there but made a habit of flouting the rules on a daily basis. Flicking on the kettle, I glanced at the clock.
The girls would just be going for dinner. They usually had burgers and chips on the first night back, a treat. After that it would be good wholesome food, prepared to keep them at optimum fitness for the grueling routine of schoolwork and acquiring equestrian skills.
Pouring hot water over a raspberry tea bag, I heard heavy footsteps on the flagstone floor behind me. I didn’t turn. Instead I poked at the water, which was rapidly staining a deep pink.
“Hey, baby,” Liam said into my ear. His breath was hot and smelled vaguely of coffee.
8
Shared Too
I leaned back against his broad chest as he wound his arms around my waist and pulled me close.
“You okay?” he asked, planting a warm, lingering kiss to my temple.
I swallowed. “I guess.” I pressed my hands over forearms coated in thick blond hair and rubbed at the hard cords of muscle and tendon holding me firm. “I hate leaving them.”
“I know you do,” he murmured. “But it’s what they want. It makes them so happy to be living, breathing and learning with Jasper and Bramble.” My eyes moistened. A lump grew in my throat.
“So don’t be sad.” He slid a hand up my front, over my breasts until he cupped my jawline in his big palm. “Don’t be sad when it makes them so happy.” He turned my head to his and sealed his lips over mine. “They’ll call tomorrow,” he said quietly onto my mouth. “Tell you how fabulous it is and how their ponies are in the field being greeted by their four-legged friends and you’ll relax, you always do.”
“You’re right. I know you are.” I turned within the circle of his embrace and melted into him, thrilled to be in his arms after wanting to be there all day.
He was tall and solid and scooped me against his body as if I were no more than a feather. Being pressed against Liam, having my head tucked beneath his chin, always made me feel safe and secure, as though my life had reached a point where nothing could hurt me―as long as he was there I would always be okay. The constriction in my throat eased and I pulled in his divine, fresh, slightly citrus scent. It was like a breeze coated in surf, as if he’d just rolled in on a wave—alive and vibrant.
“Besides,” he whispered, smoothing my hair back from my face and gently touching his lips to my damp eyelids. “If the girls were here we couldn’t…” Suddenly he hitched me sideways and upward. I gasped as my feet lifted off the floor and my butt landed on the hard table.
“Couldn’t what?” I asked, locking my hands around his neck.
9
Lily Harlem