The Sextet - Sharing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (20 page)

BOOK: The Sextet - Sharing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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second of the past three years. I worried more about never seeing you

again than I ever worried about being hit by a Yankee bullet.”

Immediately filled with dread, Anna moved her hands over his

chest, searching for signs of any wounds. “No one told me you’d been

wounded...I…”

“No, no, sweetheart, I’m fine,” Connor said, taking her hand. “A

few bullets came close, but I was never hit. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean

to frighten you.” It took less than a second for him to open the buttons

on his breeches. “See, darling? Healthy as a horse and very anxious to

get out of the barn. I woke up with this fellow standing tall every

morning, looking for his beautiful Anna.” Raising her left hand to his

lips, Connor kissed the tip of each finger, then guided her hand

through the open placket.

A soft gasp slipped through Anna’s lips as she eagerly grasped

Southern Comfort

145

Connor’s cock. He was so thick and hard, she quickly discovered she

could barely curl her fingers around his shaft. She began to stroke

him, from the root to the tip, delighted to immediately feel his penis

throb in answer to her touch.

“I thought I’d die if I never felt your hand on my prick again, if I

never fucked your sweet pussy again.” With the light touch of the

index finger of his left hand under her chin, Connor tipped her head

up. After placing a few light kisses on her lips, he then slanted his

mouth over hers and made love to her with his tongue.

Standing on tiptoe, Anna was soon lost in the magic of Connor’s

kiss and the hard, silken flesh she held in her hand. Drawing a steady

breath became almost impossible.

Moving an inch or two away, she looked up into Connor’s blue

eyes and once again was amazed to realize that although Connor and

Devon were identical twins, not everything about the O’Donnells was

identical. Each had his own flavor, his own technique, even their

cocks had subtle differences, but each could turn her into the most

insanely wanton creature in the universe.

Anna raised her right hand, cupped Connor’s cheek in her palm,

then burrowed her fingers through his black hair as he lowered his

head to kiss her. She quickly allowed herself to become lost once

again in the passion and fire that his kisses ignited in her body.

The deliciously wicked flames licked all the way across her

breasts, over her stomach, and blazed like an inferno in the moist

nook between her legs. Stepping closer, she pressed her body against

his. She pushed his cock against her mound with her hand, seeking

the hard pressure that would help satisfy the unrelenting and

demanding pulsations spreading through her body.

Connor eased his mouth away from Anna’s lips and began trailing

kisses across her cheek, over the curve of her jaw, and down the side

of her neck. Delightful tremors continued to race through her body,

teasing and awakening every nerve with a flood of undeniable wanton

hunger. His breath singed her skin wherever his lips touched, and she

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Ginger O’Brien

fell deeper into the incredible insanity.
I’ve got to stop this madness!

It’s pure folly.
Unable to catch her breath, she gasped and lost all sense of reason as he began to suck on the skin over the pulsing vein

in her neck, answering every rapid beat with a little nip.

Withdrawing a few inches, Connor opened the mismatched

buttons on her jacket, exposing her breasts again. “Beautiful. Your

sweet titties are so damned beautiful. No wonder Devon can’t keep

his hands and his mouth off them,” Connor whispered, his breath

heating her bared flesh and causing her nipples to pucker and tighten

into hard buds again.

Every secret place in her body thrummed with need.
How is it

possible?
Why is it that even after three years, I still can’t make up my
mind which brother I want and love more than the other? What

damned devil possessed me and demanded this hellish torture?

Anna watched a smile move the corners of Connor’s mouth as he

touched first one breast and then the other, rolling her nipples

between his thumb and fingers and tugging at them until she moaned,

desperate for so much more. Desire that had first been primed by

Devon’s touch and now stoked into an unslaked firestorm, grew to a

dizzying need under Connor’s caresses.

Relying on her last bit of sanity, Anna quickly glanced over her

shoulder and watched Devon unsaddle Seriffa, lead the mare into a

stall, latch the door, and begin walking back to where she and Connor

were standing.
Anna BonDurant, you’re a fool if you don’t stop this
immediately. Even if they have learned the truth, you still have played
a cruel game of deceit. They are brothers, and you betrayed them

both.

Reluctantly withdrawing her hand from Connor’s breeches, Anna

pushed away from his arms, then hurried to cover her breasts,

rebutton her jacket, and straighten her clothes. “Please, you both have

to listen to me. This has got to stop right now,” Anna begged. “What

if someone—my family, a servant, or even one of the field hands—

were to see us? The scandal would be unbearable—not just for us but

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147

for our families.” She stepped toward the barn door and glanced

outside toward the house. “Surely someone saw me ride up the lane. I

imagine that Mama and Papa and Aunt Divinity will be coming out

onto the front porch any moment now to greet me.” Returning to

retrieve her derby from the stable floor, she looked at Devon.

“They’re expecting me. I sent a telegram from St. Louis two days ago

to tell them I would be returning today.”

“Damn, Dev, I bet she means
this
telegram.” Connor reached into

his jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I’m so sorry, love. It

seems that I forgot to deliver your message to your parents.”

Stunned, Anna forgot about picking up her hat. “My telegram!

What…what are
you
doing with my telegram? I don’t understand.”

She snatched the envelope out of his hand.

“Darling, it’s really quite simple,” Devon answered. “I’m

ashamed to admit it, but I believe that my poor besotted brother broke

the law.” The grin on his face proved his remorse to be counterfeit. “It

cost him the grand and generous sum of ten dollars a month to bribe

the telegraph clerk. Connor paid the man to never give your folks any

messages from you saying when you were coming home. The clerk

was to give those messages only to Connor and
he
was supposed to see that they got to your folks.”

“But, why?” Anna looked at Connor. “Why would you do that?”

Appearing to be somewhat pleased with himself, Connor grinned.

“Dev and I wanted to talk with you before anyone knew you’d come

back. Bribing the clerk was the only way we could be sure that no one

at
Belle Rêve
knew when you would be returning. Lady Luck was

truly on our side because it was amazing how your message arrived at

just the perfect time.”

“Perfect time? Perfect time for what?” Anna wasn’t sure if she

really wanted to hear the answer, wasn’t sure if revenge for her deceit

was in either Devon or Connor’s plans.

Instead of answering her, Connor neatly retied Anna’s ascot

around her neck, twisted her hair back into a chignon, then held it in

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Ginger O’Brien

place with the hairpins he’d put in his pocket. Devon picked up her

derby, brushed some dirt and a few pieces of hay off the brim, and

then set it at a jaunty angle on her head.

Anna’s heart began to beat at a wild pace as Devon took hold of

her right hand and Connor took her left. Before she could resist, they

led her out of the barn, up the lane, past the scarlet camellias, up the

front steps, across the wide veranda, and into
Belle Rêve
.

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149

Chapter 3

Anna took a moment to look around the entry hall of the grand

house and enjoy the fragrances of the home she’d known all of her

life—the pungent cypress and cedar wood, freshly dipped beeswax

candles, and the spice-filled sachets tucked in the settee cushions. Her

mind was soon flooded with memories. Even though she still had a

dilemma to resolve, it felt wonderful to be home. As she began to step

into the parlor, she quickly stopped, giving in to her impatience to

discover what schemes Devon and Connor had devised—punishment

or pleasure. “Now, will one of you, please, answer my question?

What did you mean when you said that this is the perfect time for my

return to Natchez?”

“How about something to drink, Con?” Devon asked, completely

ignoring Anna’s question and moving toward the crystal decanters of

port, bourbon, and sherry on the sideboard in the dining room.

“With this heat, I think I’d prefer something cool and refreshing,”

Connor replied, removing his jacket and draping it on the newel post

at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sure Anna would as well. I know

Ransom usually hangs a jug or two of mint tea or cider to chill in the

well by the summer kitchen.”

Returning in a few minutes with a tray holding three glasses of

cider, Devon began to climb the broad staircase to the second floor.

He glanced over his shoulder at Anna and Connor. “Are you both

coming? I believe that it’s time for us to have our talk with Anna and

ease all of our minds about…many things.”

Connor took Anna’s hand, cajoling her along. “Come along,

sweetlin’, we’ll enjoy our cider on the upper balcony.” Turning left at

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Ginger O’Brien

the top of the stairs, he opened the second door, Anna’s bedroom

door, on the right side of the wide hall. He stood aside until both

Devon and Anna entered, then closed the door and turned the lock.

“Just in case someone was left behind to keep an eye on the house, we

don’t want to be disturbed, do we?” Crossing the room, he opened the

three jib windows leading out to the wide gallery that spanned the

front of the house, then motioned to Anna to follow him outside and

invited her to sit in one of the chairs.

After they were all settled, Anna held up the telegram. “I don’t

care which one of you tells me, but I want to know exactly what you

meant about this being the perfect time. The perfect time for what? I

don’t understand.”

Connor reached over and took the telegram from her. “It’s really

quite simple, sweetlin’. Do you know what the date is tomorrow?” He

paused for a moment as if waiting for her to reply, and then provided

the answer himself. “Tomorrow is Tuesday, the Fourth of July. The

Union may have burned and bruised Dixie’s pride, but they haven’t

crushed us. So, to lift everyone’s spirits, the LaSalles at Meadowvale

Plantation decided to have a grand Fourth of July ball tonight to help

Natchez heal her wounds.” He folded the telegram and slipped it into

the side pocket of his breeches. “Tomorrow there’ll be a picnic. Horse

races, card games, and shooting matches have been planned for the

men. The ladies will be entertained with games of Whist and

Reversis, there will be plenty of time to chat and gossip with friends

they haven’t seen in a long time. For the children there will be foot

races, pony rides, hide-and-seek games, and all will be tended by their

mammies.”

“If Ephraim LaSalle could find enough gunpowder on his last trip

to New Orleans, I’ve even heard there’ll be a display of fireworks in

the evening,” Devon added. “After a day of amusements, there’ll be

more dancing, more delicious food, and a generous supply of ale,

wine, and stronger libations. Some of the guests were invited to stay

for a couple days, so I doubt that anyone will be travelling home on

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151

Wednesday.”

“I know for a fact that your mama and papa, your Aunt Divinity,

and most of the other
Belle Rêve
folk won’t be returning home ‘til Friday afternoon,” Connor said.

“You mean Ransom, Tildy, Lula, and all the others are at…”

Anna began to ask, but Devon interrupted.

“They’re all at Meadowvale. Anna. Many things changed after

you left for Paris, darlin’. Since emancipation, the Africans who chose

to stay on at
Belle Rêve
and some of the other plantations are now paid wages. Some even farm their own land. All of the house servants

from
Belle Rêve
are at Meadowvale for the festivities. They’ve been hired to help cook, serve the meals, take care of the LaSalles’ guests,

and celebrate, as well.”

“Some of the old folk may have stayed down in shanty row, but

you can relax, Anna, we’re alone,” Connor added.

“But aren’t you and Devon both expected at Meadowvale?” Anna

asked, still trying to piece everything together. “Won’t the LaSalles

and everyone miss you and wonder where you are?”

“We’ve already sent our regrets,” Connor replied. “Because all the

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