The Sextet - Sharing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (18 page)

132

Ginger O’Brien

I don’t understand. I sent a telegram from St. Louis…wasn’t it

delivered?

With a soft tap of her heel against Seriffa’s ribs, Anna urged the

mare forward at a slow jog trot and followed the lane around the side

of the house to the barn. “Hello! Hello!” Again, no one, not even a

stable boy came forward to greet her. “Hello!”

Growing impatient, Anna lifted her right knee free of the top

pommel of the saddle, gathered the skirt of her riding habit in her

hand, and slid from Seriffa’s back. As she led the mare into the stable,

a chorus of nickers and whinnies from the horses in the stalls on both

sides of the aisle greeted them.

Anna brushed her hand over the mare’s sleek neck then began to

unbuckle the saddle. “Well, girl, at least the four-legged residents of

Belle Rêve
are happy to see us.”

“I’m happy, Anna. Damn it to hell, darlin’, I’ve never been more

happy in my life! Welcome home, love.”

Anna gasped. The deep voice tinged with the soft slur of the South

had startled her. “Connor!” Her pulse raced, sending an exciting rush

of liquid fire through her veins. Quickly turning, she discovered one

of the two reasons she had left Natchez, one of the two reasons she

had considered never coming back again
.

“Connor? Have you been gone so long that you don’t recognize

me?” A dispirited laugh followed the question. “Sorry to disappoint

you, my sweet, but it’s me, Devon.”

Devon O’Donnell stepped out of the shadowed niche where he

had been standing. He took a few steps closer and stopped, the ray of

sunlight shining through a nearby window highlighting the hard,

muscled planes of his body. He stood with his hands resting on his

hips, and his legs splayed slightly apart. His whole stance seemed

contrived to challenge her. “Or is Connor the real reason you came

home?” he asked, putting his challenge into words.

Three years disappeared within a few rapid beats of Anna’s heart,

but it had taken only an instant for Devon’s words to rouse her fears.

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133

Why did I call out Connor’s name and not Devon’s? Is it possible that
I have already made my choice but never realized it?
The answer to her own question didn’t come, and she couldn’t find her voice to

answer Devon’s either.

Anna drank in the sight of him. Not seeing Devon anywhere but in

her memories and dreams while she’d been gone had left her very

thirsty. She couldn’t help but notice how much he had changed. He

had grown taller and filled out with more muscle since she had last

seen him, and his shoulders were definitely broader. The new scar that

cut across his left cheek didn’t detract from his striking good looks at

all. In fact, it seemed to add a dangerous and rakish aura to his manly

mystique. In some ways he hadn’t changed at all—his eyes were the

same bright blue, he still wore his Irish black hair long enough to

allow it to curl over his collar, and his mouth still made her hungry for its touch and taste.

Time and the war had forged Devon O’Donnell into a very

desirable man.

But Connor has filled my dreams and my heart, too. Would it ever

be possible for me to choose one over the other?
She knew it was useless trying to reason with herself. The only thing she could do was

steel herself for the battle that she knew lay ahead.

Devon seemed to study her from head to toe, a slight smile lifting

the corners of his mouth. “My God, Anna, it doesn’t seem possible,

but you’ve grown more exquisite than the last time I saw you.”

Accompanied by a soft laugh, his smile widened. “But you are still

the most damned unpredictable woman I’ve ever met—always full of

surprises.” He took a step closer. “I’ve thought about your

homecoming a thousand times over. I’d always imagined that you’d

ride through town in a fancy carriage and be dressed in the finest silks

and gewgaws that the New York and Paris
modistes
had to offer.

Your beauty would set everyone’s tongues wagging and every woman

in Natchez would be green with envy. The men would stare at you,

thinking of nothing but bedding you, their cocks already hard in their

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Ginger O’Brien

pants.” He slowly shook his head, his laugh becoming rich and full-

bodied. “Instead, here you are, looking as though you’ve just come

home from a leisurely afternoon ride instead of three years of self-

imposed exile.”

Puzzled and wondering why Devon hadn’t rushed to take her in

his arms, kiss her and welcome her home, Anna didn’t move.
What

should I do? Should I stand here like a ninny or run to him and throw
myself into his arms?
Unable to decide what was best, she stayed beside Seriffa and nervously toyed with a buckle on the mare’s bridle.

Devon moved closer to the horse then slowly drew his hand across

the mare’s hip. A small gasp slipped through Anna’s lips.
How could

such a simple gesture immediately remind me of the soft caresses his

fingers used to play across my body? Will I ever be able to forget how
he would seek out every secret place, leaving me hungry and begging

for much, much more?

“Very nice horse,” Devon said, patting the mare’s rump. “A

souvenir from one of your Parisian paramours?”

Anna lifted her gaze to meet his eyes.
He may have physically

changed since I last saw him, but the handsome devil can still raise

my temper in an instant.
With her next thought the pace of her heart increased, tripped, and stuttered.
If Connor has changed as much, and
has the same questions as Devon, the consequences of my coming

home are going to be much harder than I thought.

Determined to bolster her resolve, Anna stiffened her spine and

squared her shoulders.
Giving a slight, casual shrug, she patted the mare’s silky cheek, smiled and answered his question. “To pacify

your curiosity, Devon, Seriffa was a farewell gift from His Royal

Highness Prince Ali Abdurrahman Abdul Bandar. The prince was a

very
generous man—in so many, many ways.” Stepping in front of

Devon, she raised her riding crop to her lips, kissed the tip, and then

lightly drew it along the scar on his face. “And this dashing new

wound on your cheek—was it heroically earned in battle? Or perhaps

it’s a
souvenir
from a furious, cuckolded husband.”

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135

Devon placed his hand over his heart in a ridiculous theatrical

gesture and thrust out his lower lip, blatantly imitating the pout of a spoiled child. “My sweetest Anna, your words wound me deeply.” He

released a disheartened-sounding sigh. “Are you telling me that while

you were capturing the hearts of all the men in Europe, I wasn’t

allowed to enjoy having a few peccadilloes of my own?” The pout

disappeared and was immediately replaced by an impish smile. “The

war may have truly been Satan’s Hell on Earth, but I was amazed to

discover that the women, both northern and southern, were so very

compassionate and so very, very generous to us soldiers—no matter

what color uniform we wore. Some of the beauties would even follow

us from town to town just to help ease our—distress. They were truly

a blessing on a cold night.” Devon winked. “But, Anna, I give you my

word as a true Mississippi gentleman, I never lost my heart to any of

them.”

Anna clenched her hands into fists, abruptly turned away, and,

without saying a word, began to lead her mare to the nearest empty

stall.
He may joke all he wants, but I’m not foolish enough, to think he
didn’t bed others while I was gone
. Anna’s conscience gave her a hard poke.
Besides, with my own…indulgences, what right do I have

to feel as though I’ve been betrayed?
Her conscience nudged again.
I
have no right, absolutely none. But damn it, I don’t have to like it.

“Anna, come back here. Stop sulking like a child. Neither of us

ever took vows of celibacy. At least, I don’t remember ever being that

drunk or dim-witted,” Devon declared. “Come back here. Stop

pouting over something so trivial, it’s not worth the time, we’ve

already lost three years. Besides, your mouth is much prettier when

you smile. Enough of this nonsense. I’ve waited much too long to

welcome you home with a kiss. Come here and let me make proper

use of your lips.”

Her decision made, Anna dropped the mare’s reins and rushed to

Devon, knowing the moment he closed his arms around her and held

her close, three years of self-inflicted torture would be over, but a

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Ginger O’Brien

lifetime of indecision would probably begin again.

Before she could press her body against his, before she could

appease the hunger she’d suffered for so long and feel the heat of him

against her skin, Devon gripped her upper arms, holding her a step

away from him. A whimper echoing her displeasure and frustration

fled her lips.

“Hush, hush, sweetlin’, there’s no need to fret. Be just a little

patient for a moment.” Reaching up, he quickly withdrew the jeweled

hat pins holding the dark green derby on her head. Next, he removed

the hat, stuck the pins in the brim, then tossed it aside. Without

hesitating for another instant, he cradled her face between his thumbs,

and raised her chin. Bending over her until his breath touched her skin

and his lips were less than a hair’s breadth from her own, he then

whispered one simple command. “Now, damn it, kiss me.”

Taking a shaky breath, Anna leaned closer, placed the palms of

her hands on Devon’s stomach, and slowly slipped them up over his

chest, feeling the cut of each hard muscle and the ridge of each rib

under his clothes. Impatient to wait a moment longer, she clasped her

hands behind his neck, stood on tiptoe, licked her lips with the tip of

her tongue then pressed her eager, open mouth against his.

Her sigh blended with the deep growl that slid from Devon’s

throat as he returned her kiss, settling his lips over hers. His tongue

immediately invaded her mouth, exploring every sensitive hollow,

demanding her to answer his fervor. Inhaling, he drew her breath into

his body, and together they continued to share each other’s essence

until it seemed as though they would soon both starve for air.

Devon lifted his mouth from her lips and began trailing kisses

across her cheek, across her jaw, and down her neck, licking and

nipping at her flesh as he went.

“Don’t you realize it’s just not enough to kiss your lips?” he

asked, his breath searing her skin. “I want you naked so I can kiss and

taste all of you…lick by delicious lick.” He took a step back but put

his hand on her shoulder when she tried to move with him. “There’s

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137

no need to rush, darlin’. Let’s slow down just a little—I’ve been

patient for three hellish years waiting for this moment, and I intend to

savor every minute of it.”

Devon untied the knotted white ascot at her neck, opened the top

eight buttons on the jacket that lay beneath, and pushed the green

fabric aside. With a gentle scoop of his hands, he freed her breasts

from the confines of her chemise. “Oh, yes, this view is so much

better and definitely worth the wait.” Holding a breast in the palm of

each hand, he pressed them together until her nipples touched.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, flicking each tightly puckered pink crest

with the tip of his tongue. “So damned beautiful and tasty.”

Opening his mouth wider, Devon drew Anna’s nipples into his

mouth, suckling on both. He drew his tongue back and forth across

each engorged and firm rosy bud. His gentle nipping and tugging at

each with his teeth felt so good that Anna couldn’t stop the deep

moans of delight that slipped from her throat. She closed her eyes,

tipped her head back, and arched her spine, shoving her breasts harder

against his mouth.

Devon slowly raised his head. “I love your beautiful titties. They

are such a tasty mouthful.” Still pressing her breasts together, he

rubbed his thumbs over the sensitive peaks again and again. “While

you were gone I dreamed of you almost every night—even while I

was in the battlefield. I’d dream of holding your breasts together just

like this. I’d dream of straddling your waist and pushing my hard cock

between them…fucking your titties, and going mad with desire

waiting for you to open your mouth, suck on me, and make me

come.” He stroked his tongue between her breasts, and licked upward

over her collarbone and her neck until he reached her mouth. He

kissed her, invading her mouth with his tongue, thrusting and

withdrawing it over and over again, imitating his cock in his dream.

Lifting his mouth from hers, his breath came in short gasps. “Please

tell me, Anna, tell me you’ll make my dreams come true…each and