Were-Devils' Revenge [Were-Devils of Tasmania 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

* * * *

Mitch was surprisingly nervous. He liked women and had had a lot of relationships. Most of the relationships hadn’t lasted long, and the women had cared more than him, but a couple at least had been special. But he had never fallen in love and had decided that he probably never would. Just as Mac was built as a one woman man and might never recover from his first love’s death, Mitch thought he was destined to never settle down.

But his feelings for Gabriella were unsettling him. He really wanted her to like him. A lot. He wasn’t sure about the thing with Mac, only that if Mac was smitten, he would never get in the way. Could they both be in love with the same woman and make it work? He’d have attacked any other man who wanted his girl, but his brother? It was different, particularly now their community had become so close-knit.

He was mulling over the thoughts as he helped the crew pack up when the night’s festivities were drawing to a close. The band had done its last number, and the final guests were heading back to their rooms.

“Mac decided he was above cleaning up?” asked Gabriella.

“He has an early start,” Mitch replied. “Time for a drink?”

Gabriella hesitated. “Okay, no harm in one I guess.”

There was a small bar near the beach open late, so Mitch guided her toward it. As his arm brushed lightly across her back, he felt a shiver go through his body and himself hardening at the thought of her.
Down, boy.

* * * *

Gabriella wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea having a drink with Mitch, but she was tired of worrying. Staying away from them both wasn’t working, so she needed to do something to sort out her feelings. If the jealous looks earlier in the evening had been anything to go by, they both seemed to have some feeling for her. She had told Wilson in no uncertain terms that he had no right to be territorial, but Wilson had been too busy being angry.
Men.

Mitch ordered her a glass of white wine and himself a beer and they headed outside. It was a warm evening with only the mildest of breezes, so they sat on the balcony, and Gabriella looked at
Mitch through the flickers of candlelight. There was something incredibly comfortable about being with him. In the background waves gently rippled into shore and only an occasional animal noise broke the silence.

“I hadn’t ever thought that I could ever live anywhere except home,” said Mitch. “But this? It really is paradise.”

Gabriella smiled. “Occasionally I think being able to buy winter clothes and wrap up in front of a fire has appeal, but not often,” she said.

“I like scantily clad myself,” said Mitch, obviously enjoying her body.

Gabriella shook her head, laughing. “It is completely beyond me why I find you the slightest bit appealing.” Mitch looked startled. “I mean you are like so totally chauvinist, narcissistic, and a womanizer. Not my type at all.”

“But,” said Mitch, “you do like me.”

“Regrettably yes,”
said Gabriella. “You and your brother.”

“So maybe I think you’re special.”

Gabriella looked at him, taking a sip of wine. “And maybe you don’t. My head says no.”

Mitch grinned. “What does your heart say?”

“None of your business.”

“I’d like to make it my business.”

Gabriella felt herself blush and was pleased he couldn’t see. She really wasn’t interested in a fling, and how could this be anything more? Sure, Mitch had suggested he could live up here, but it was probably all part of the “get her into bed” routine.

“Would Mac mind?” Gabriella could hardly believe she had been brave enough to ask. Would he give her an honest answer? Did he know? Not being able to read his mind was maddening.

There was a long silence while Mitch reflected on the question as he took a slug of beer.

“He feels strongly about you, too.”

“But he decided to let you try first,” said Gabriella, wondering at how much this irritated her.

“I’ve got a better track record.”

“How about I just tell you both to go to hell?” Gabriella only half meant it, not sure what she was feeling.

“Then all three of us would be losers.” Mitch was watching her carefully.

“So better there are two winners and one loser?”

“Well, that’s one way of doing the math.”

Gabriella’s heart felt like it had skipped a beat. What other way of doing the math was there—unless…Were the Richards boys’ fantasies the same as hers?

Mitch tentatively stretched his hand out and ran it down her arm. “We would never want to hurt you,” he said. “Or do anything you didn’t want to.”

Gabriella’s stomach flipped this time. She could feel herself getting wet. Mitch’s touch was sending tingles up and down her entire body. He leaned closer to her, and taking her chin gently in one hand, he turned her face to his. His lips brushed hers, warm and soft, then firmer, asking more of her. She pulled back, surprised at how nervous she was.

“Let’s walk along the beach,” Mitch suggested. “It’s a gorgeous night.”

Gabriella closed her eyes and heard her grandmother’s words. “Going with your heart can cause great pain, but denying is not guaranteed not to cause more.”

“It is,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling into his.

They walked for more than a mile, to the beach that could only be reached at low tide via the coastal approach. It was a small cove surrounded by cliffs, with one steep path leading to the only other way of accessing it, via the inland route. The sand was still warm from the day’s sun. They reached a spot and without speaking sank to their knees facing each other. In the moonlight Gabriella could see the golden flecks in the darkness of his eyes, taking her in as if she was the only woman in the world.

It seemed to her that they kissed for hours, long, slow, luxurious kissing. Gabriella felt no pressure from him, only a matched willingness to relax and enjoy, to get to know each other’s smell and taste, to feel comfortable and at ease. His lack of pressure surprised her so much that she reached a point that she became aware that her body was craving him, desperate for the hand in the small of her back to go lower, to feel it on her flesh, all over her body.

Gabriella pulled back, eyes on him. Mitch watched and waited, and she made her decision, pulling off her T-shirt and unhooking her bra. Mitch moaned. She hadn’t ever been so forward, but something about Mitch made her feel more confident. He was certainly appreciative.

“You are beautiful, even more than I imagined.”

Mitch undid his shirt and dropped it to the ground as his arms pulled Gabriella toward him. The hardness of his torso contrasted to the soft curves and breasts of hers. Still kneeling, they kissed, mouths gently opening to the other, tongues shyly exploring. Gabriella closed her eyes and gave in to the moment. Mitch nibbled on her lip then dropped his head to her nipple, sucking as she arched her back and enjoyed the alternating soft, insistent pull as his teeth drew the now hardened pebble out. His hand came around her back and edged in between her skirt over the thin line of her thong. It sent shivers through her.

Time seemed to drift as she enjoyed the novelty of exploring his body as much as he seemed to be enjoying her, eventually sinking down onto the sand where Mitch ran first his hand and then his tongue down her torso. Reaching her skirt, he undid her belt slowly and eased it and her thong down her legs, Gabriella wriggling to assist the process.

“You are truly perfect,” said Mitch through uneven breaths. Gabriella, undoing his pants, looked
at Mitch with much the same thoughts. Lean and toned, his skin was smooth, and she was reminded of a lithe cat. With his long, dark hair, perhaps a panther. As he dropped his briefs, his cock was long and hard, and she looked at it in wonder. She’d only ever had sex with Wilson, long ago, and her main memory was of hoping he would get it over with soon. Now she was drinking in the beauty of this man’s body without any thought of what would follow other than that she wanted everything he was offering.

“Do you have a condom?” Gabriella asked before she lost the last remnants of common sense.

“Sure,” said Mitch, grabbing his jeans. “I said I’d look after you.”

Gabriella lay back on the sand and watched him. Mitch grinned, taking her foot in his hand and sucking her toe, their gazes fixed on each other. His tongue tickled between her toes and sent tingles straight to her groin. Mitch’s other hand brushing over her leg accentuated the feeling. She could feel him getting closer to the lips of her pussy and felt herself trembling with anticipation.

“What do you like?” Mitch asked, and for a moment Gabriella was taken aback. Wilson had never been interested in her enjoyment.

“Whatever you’re doing seems to be working,” whispered Gabriella, not wanting to break the magic of the moment. Mitch put her foot down and knelt between her legs, parting them as he did so. Gabriella felt acutely self-conscious, but in the next moment as his fingers moved over her lips to find her clit she forgot anything other than how she felt at this very moment. Mitch’s fingers circled and then dipped into her juices. She gasped.

“I could play with you all night,” said Mitch. “But I also desperately want to take you right now. Your choice.”

Gabriella didn’t hesitate, pulling him down to her, in the kiss losing herself in the man, mindful of the pressure of him on her and the ardor of his hands rubbing up and down her flank, over her breast, and then cupping her butt.

Mouths still fused, Mitch eased his hips over her and then thrust inside her. The feeling was at first overwhelming but then transformed into waves of exquisite pleasure.

Mitch propped himself up on both hands, looking down at her. Gabriella felt closer to him than she ever had before to anyone, the feeling so intense that she had to close her eyes and wonder at the feeling given his inner thoughts were still blocked to her no matter how hard she tried to concentrate and look. It was as if the block was making her work harder at understanding him, and the result surprisingly opened up avenues she had never before been down.

Mitch thrust in her gently, and Gabriella rocked slowly with the pace, her own muscles in time with his thrusts. With each contraction of her pelvic floor about him she felt another wave of pleasure. Mitch wasn’t in a rush, seeming to sense just what her body needed and when. Gabriella had experienced something similar when bringing herself to climax but had had no idea that this could also happen with a man managing it for her. She rocked her hips a little faster, and in response Mitch also thrust harder, again taking her to the next level. He held her there for what seemed minutes, and then just when she knew she was about to come, he, too, reached a plateau, and together they spiraled, mouths fused and bodies rippling with a simultaneous ecstasy that Gabriella gripped onto until finally, completely she was spent. As she laid her head on Mitch’s shoulder, panting, she heard an animal sound in the forest behind, a mournful moan that she was sure she’d never heard before.

* * * *

Tarrabah, Tasmania, 1939

When Edmund arrived back in Tarrabah the sun was already up. He parked the pickup truck outside the long, ranch-style house that was tucked in amongst the dense forest, where he lived with his parents, brother, and sister. His other brother, Ellory, was already married and lived a few miles away along the river that snaked past the back of the house. He could see his mother was already up. Smoke billowed from her chimney.

“Where have you been?” It wasn’t his mother that asked, but his father, Finn, emerging from the shed. He wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to his voice that Edmund couldn’t identify. More telling was the fact that his father had barred his son from reading his mind. Normally they had a very open relationship. This did not augur well.

Edmund had of course been careful to hide his own thoughts of Larissa. Since first falling for her he had practiced hard. Even Elisabeth, the sister to whom he was closest, had not been able to pick it.

“Out,” he replied evasively.

Finn shook his head wearily. His black hair had gone gray almost overnight when Edmund and Edgar had said they had signed up with the army.

“Your mother is waiting for you,” he said. “With Zelda.”

A shiver of fear went through Edmund. He would never be able to hide his thoughts from Zelda. Though she wasn’t truly one of them, she had were-devil blood as well as Indigenous blood. Maybe even some ghost. The combination seemed to have heightened her senses. While she didn’t transform, she could read minds and see into the past and future. In truth she was the only person that Edmund had ever met of whom he was truly scared.

Edmund’s eyes caught his father’s. He read a sorrow that he would be unable to intervene in whatever was about to transpire. Edmund was on his own.

The two older women were sitting by the potbellied stove in the kitchen. Elisabeth was making tea. She threw her brother a look that contained a good deal more than sorrow. Edmund knew now who had betrayed him. He had been too cocky. If he had told her, she might have been able to protect him.

“Zelda has something to tell you,” said his mother finally. His mother was a petite woman, but there was a firmness in both gaze and tone that was not to be messed with.