Date Night

Date Night Emma Holly eBook Edition Copyright 2011 Emma Holly. All rights reserved. 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 of the author. Discover other exciting Emma Holly titles at: http://www.emmaholly.com This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This story is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. It includes sexually explicit content which is only appropriate for adults - and not every adult at that. Those who are offended by more adventurous depictions of sexuality or frank language possibly shouldn’t read it. Literary license has been taken in this book. It is not intended to be a sexual manual. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons living or dead is either fictitious or coincidental. That said, the author hopes you enjoy this tale! cover photos: George Mayer, Alexander Yakovlev, Miguel Angelo Silva, Georgijevic eISBN: 978-0-9835402-8-1 This 10,000+ word short story includes mf, mm and mmf interactions. An excerpt from another story follows.

DATE night ... OLIVIA Forster never dreamed she’d serve as queen of an enchanted city beneath the sea - something her three sexy husbands know. Though she adores her shapeshifter mates, she’s shy by nature, and they can tell the strain of always being “on” is beginning to wear on her. Sneaking away from their responsibilities won’t be easy, but come hell or high water, they’ll treat her to a night she won’t soon forget! reviewers rave about Hidden Depths “A truly fantastic read! Ms. Holly turns the shape-shifting world on their respective ears! ... 5 of 5 stars!” - badasschicksthatbite.blogspot.com “I don’t know how Emma Holly does it but I hope she keeps on doing it ... a smoking HOT read and a great story.” - In My Humble Opinion (inmhoread.blogspot.com)

Other Indie Titles by Emma Holly ~ The Prince With No Heart Hidden Talents The Assassins’ Lover Hidden Depths

DATE night OLIVIA Forster, Queen of Oceana’s wereseals, eyed the blue velvet gown like a mortal enemy. It wasn’t her enemy, of course. It was simply a dress: a very nice, very expensive dress draped on a fancy padded hanger. Thanks to the royal tailors, it fit her like a dream. Even if she hadn’t lost her baby weight from the triplets, those geniuses with the needle would have made sure it flattered her. The spacious walk-in closet in which she stood in her underwear also held no dangers - unless you were terrified of silk-wool carpet and custom-fitted drawers. Because she shared the space with her three husbands, the closet was bigger than her bedroom back when she lived in Long Island. The size wasn’t an indulgence. Her husbands had as many formal outfits as she did. They also liked wearing them better. As if to prove it, her most royal husband, aka His Majesty King Anso the First, stepped into the room with her. “That gown isn’t going to put itself on,” he teased. Minus the jacket, he was already in his tuxedo: a tall, broad-shouldered, glorious hunk of a shapeshifter. Because he knew how she was about dressing up, his beautiful sapphire eyes twinkled. “It’s floor length,” she said. “And the bodice is corset style.” “That explains why you don’t like it, not why I should disapprove.” “Ha ha,” she said, unable to keep a hint of glumness from her tone. “It goes with your eyes,” he cajoled, which was a joke among the four of them. A year and a half ago, Olivia and her first husband James had become Anso and his fellow wereseal Ty’s bloodmates. What had started out as a heat-driven abduction on a deserted beach had become an extraordinarily deep relationship. Consummating a blood bond was the highest form of marriage for Oceanans, combining the concept of soulmates with genetic compatibility. Though the fourway mating hadn’t turned Olivia or James into wereseals, they had experienced changes. They could breathe underwater and were stronger and healthier. Their life expectancy was as long as any shapeshifter’s. Their libidos were heightened, so it was handy that there were four of them. Olivia and James gained a smidge more intuition than they’d had as humans, making them feel more at home among Oceana’s semi-to-very magical citizens. Olivia’s triplets each had a different father, which would have been a trick to pull off if she’d still been a mundane. The primary sign that these things might happen had been a change in their eye color. Her and James’s irises were now the same drowning blue as Anso’s, with a touch of Ty’s bright yellow ringing their pupils. Olivia loved this evidence that they all were linked. The four of them finding each other had been the luckiest day of their lives. The only drawback - to Olivia’s mind anyway - was that Anso was royalty.

Don’t be a grump, she ordered her reflection. Your life is amazing, and it’s only a damn dinner. The third damn state dinner in a week. Her babies were going to forget her name. Her babies would have set up a wail at the way she frowned in the full-length mirror. “Let me help,” Anso said soothingly. He slipped the gorgeous gown off its fancy hanger and shook it out for her to step into. Stifling a sigh, Olivia braced on his shoulder and did as he invited. If this had been the old days, when it was just her and James, she’d have warned her husband that if he “helped,” they’d never get where they were going. Sadly - though not for Oceana - Anso was an actual ruling king, with actual ruling duties. He shared responsibility for their city-nation with a council and legislature, but he rarely blew off anything. Olivia admired that. She simply wished he’d take two seconds to ogle her in her lacy push-up bra and thong. We’re not in heat, she reminded herself. You can’t expect him to always be flattering you. “Suck in,” he said, beginning to do up the laces at the back of the Victorianstyle corset bodice. Zippers were considered outre for aristocrats, but Olivia sure missed them. To be fair, having three men to do her up was a pretty good compensation. One of them was bound to notice how nice she looked. “There,” Anso said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He smiled at their joined reflections in the long mirror: a tall honey-haired Viking hugging a petite redhead. “You might be miserable, sweetheart, but you’ll outshine every woman in the room.” Olivia pulled a little face, which of course he spotted. “Not your ambition?” he joshed. She turned in his hold, her arms naturally twining behind his strong warm neck. “First,” she said like the accountant she’d always be. “I’m only interested in three people’s opinions. Second, I couldn’t be miserable if even one of my mates was there.” “Uncomfortable then,” he said sympathetically. “I’ll put my heart into it,” she promised. “I know tonight is important to Ty.” Important was an understatement. Tonight’s guest of honor was the King of Tantallon, a sister underwater city hidden off the coast of Scotland. Ty’s socialclimbing mother was considering moving there. Since she and her alcoholic husband had brought a great deal of real misery into Ty’s life, good relations were to be encouraged. None of them liked seeing the dark cloud ten minutes with his parents could cast over Ty. When he was with them, part of him forgot he was Anso’s respected co-ruler, beloved by his mates and their citizens. When he was with the people who’d brought him up, the unhappy, unloved boy he’d been tried to rise up again. The blackness always passed. Ty had too much self respect to allow it to linger long. Still, to have spared him it for good, Olivia would have made polite chitchat with any number of foreign VIPs. “You’ll be fine,” Anso said, hugging her hips closer. “You always worry beforehand, but you’ve never let us down.”

He was nice to say so. She knew there’d been a time or two when his job would have been easier if she’d had more social skills. “I mean it, Liv,” he said, having learned to read her face. “People love you just as you are. No one - least of all me - needs you to be a social genius. You being real is what people respond to.” She looked into his eyes and her own teared up. How was it that three men could become this dear to her? “I love you,” she whispered. He kissed her and held her close. “Love you too,” he said in return. They’d just pushed back from each other when Ty walked in. Anso’s best friend and long-time male lover had much the same athletic height and build as the king. His hair was fairer, his golden skin bearing the faintest pattern of leopard spots. He’d always be more of a bad boy than Anso, but he’d certainly settled. Since committing to their foursome, Olivia didn’t think he’d looked at another man or woman lustfully. His yellow eyes gleamed with were-light as he took in the pair of them in. “Yowza,” he said, stroking Olivia’s bare arm while simultaneously bussing Anso’s cheek. “You two are smokin’.” Ty’s tuxedo jacket was slung rackishly from one finger over his broad shoulder. Olivia smoothed his pleated dress shirt down his chest. “You look rather incendiary yourself.” Never insecure about his appearance, Ty grinned cockily and lifted his blond eyebrows. Amusingly, his seven-month-old daughter LoLo sometimes gave Olivia the same expression. “Do you know where I stashed my Donald Duck cufflinks? The ones James gave me for Christmas.” “You’re wearing those?” Olivia asked. “I thought the King of Tantallon was a stick in the mud.” “He won’t notice, and if he does, he’ll think I like waterfowl.” Ty kissed her mouth to silence her protest, at which point her first husband James strolled in. Leaner than the two wereseals, James was the epitome of dark and handsome. He was nearly but not quite as tall as the others. With his arrival, the big dressing room actually seemed crowded. “Hey, sexy people,” he said breezily. “Liv, where’s the key to my sport sub?” “There’s three of you,” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Why do you always ask me where you leave things? You could keep track for each other.” James flashed the crinkly-eyed boyish smile that made her fall in love with him in college. “We like it better when you keep track of us.” Olivia glowered, which inspired Ty to declare: “Group Liv kiss!” As a result, three large males attacked her face with their lips. They didn’t stop until she was giggling. “Fine,” she said. “Ty, your cufflinks are in the bottom drawer of my jewelry chest. James, your keys are probably in your gray jacket.” Ah-ha’s came from the men as they found the desired items. “That’s why they ask you,” Anso said quietly. “Because you always know.” Olivia suspected James’s interpretation was closer to the truth. Ty and James liked the caring implied by her keeping track of them. Anso enjoyed her caring

about him too. He simply kept track of himself. She touched his cheek with the flat of her palm. “If you lost things, Your Majesty, I’d help you find them.” A soft blue glow kindled in his eyes. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll misplace something between your thighs.” “Babysitters are here, by the way,” James broke into the moment. “Plus Nico and Mark from the guards. Harrison’s overseeing the whole shebang.” Harrison was Anso’s starched but wonderful butler. Olivia had once surprised him giving her children horsey rides in the blue salon, down on his hands and knees in his crisp penguin suit. Olivia hadn’t mentioned the astonishing occurrence to anyone, a discretion the butler seemed to appreciate. “Excellent,” Anso said. “We can give the children their farewell hugs and still be on our way in time.” Olivia lifted Anso’s wrist to check his watch and smiled. He’d allotted half an hour for goodbye kisses. Considering the triplets’ fondness for being fussed over, that should work out about right. ~ “IS that a drool mark on my jacket?” Ty asked in mock outrage from the sub’s back seat. “Anso, your son has no self control.” “My son! What happened to your Three Musketeers model of parenting? All for one and one for all?” Seated in front, Olivia watched James smile at the other males’ pretend bickering. Their official security escort cruised beside them like sharks, but - per James’s preference - he drove the racy tangerine colored submarine they rode in. James’s latest transportational toy seated four on its soft leather, could go from zero to a hundred knots in under twelve seconds, and - most impressive to Olivia ran on ambient energy. Like a rock star surrounded by sober roadies, their group progressed up Grand Street in downtown, headed for the Opera Hall where tonight’s festivities would kick off. The Abydian Sirens were performing Rigoletto. Because their voices truly were magical, a complement of faeries would be in attendance, in case the sirens’ influence unintentionally went awry. Olivia supposed the risk of audience hypnosis added spice to the proceedings. The faeries added spice for her. They were responsible for the enchantments that allowed cities like Oceana to exist in the mundane world. Native Oceanans viewed the fae with a mix of resentment and gratitude. It was nice to have powerful benefactors, though a bit like being beholden to snooty Parisians. Olivia had met few fae, and only for brief periods. She hoped to remedy that tonight. She found faeries fascinating, and all this queen stuff ought to have perks. Speaking of queen stuff, Olivia had her usual studying to do. She dug her mini-tablet out of her beaded clutch. Turning it on, she searched for the file the Royal Press Office should have sent her on tonight’s most important guests. When she didn’t find it, her decollete broke into a sweat. She squirmed around to face the back seat. “Anso, did you get the cheat-sheet from the press office? My copy isn’t here.” “Oh that,” he said. “You’ve been working so hard lately, I told them we’d wing it tonight.”

“You told them we’d wing it!” More than Olivia’s cleavage was sweating then. Memorizing everyone’s names and interests was the one social task she could count on getting right. “Don’t look so worried,” Anso said. “You can smile and nod if you don’t know who someone is. You’re the queen. No one will dare complain.” Olivia tried to swallow, but the giant lump in her throat made it difficult. She told herself not to panic. If she had to smile and nod, she would. So what if she spent the whole evening stammering? “I can’t stand it,” Ty said, covering his face. “Don’t tease her. It’s like watching Bambi freeze in a sub’s headlights.” “Don’t tease me?” Olivia repeated in confusion. “Do you have the file or not?” “Not,” Anso said. Before she could do more than squeak in dismay, he leaned forward to cover her clammy hand with his. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not attending the opera or dinner.” “We’re not? But ... what about the King of Tantallon? What about making sure Ty’s parents really leave?” “Already gone,” Ty said with a brilliant smile. “I waved them off at Atlantic Station this morning. Plus, Tantallon will consider it a personal favor if Anso ‘unavoidably’ can’t show up tonight. His wife has a terrible crush on Our Majesty - not that I blame her.” Olivia turned wide eyes to Anso for confirmation. “It’s true,” he said, smiling fondly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We just wanted this to be a surprise.” Relief flooded her, steadying her enough to punch James’s arm in annoyance. “You all were in on this? One of you might have spilled the beans!” “Ow,” James said, but not like she’d hurt him. “Spilling the beans would have spoiled the surprise.” Olivia flounced around to face front again. “I’m an accountant. We tend not to like surprises.” Though she didn’t glance in the rear view mirror, she was pretty sure her other obnoxious spouses were amused. That was the downside to having three husbands. They had a built in all-boys club. James was flourishing in this dynamic more than she’d expected. She’d never thought of him as lacking in male company, but she supposed Ty and Anso served as brothers as well as lovers to him. She couldn’t begrudge him his happiness. She was happy herself. And if the trio had been overly repentant for tricking her, she’d have thought they were taking her social anxiety too seriously. Olivia wasn’t helpless, she was just shy. “Where are we going anyway?” she asked. Anso reached around one side of her seat to squeeze her upper arm. From the other, he nuzzled her cheek. Wereseals were good nuzzlers. When they performed the playful caress, it meant deeper than human things. Unable to help it, Olivia unbent more. “We’re going somewhere you’ve never been before,” he rumbled. “Somewhere I think you’ll like.”

Olivia twisted around to kiss him, lingering over his soft firm mouth. Anso’s lips warmed underneath hers, which made hers warm in turn. One of Anso’s nicest qualities was that he never took sex for granted, perhaps because he’d been forbidden from having it with women for so long. When he pulled back, he gave her a hooded look that was for her alone. Of course, that it was for her alone didn’t prevent the others from noticing. “Don’t make me jealous while I’m driving,” James joked. “I only found this place once before.” James’s London blue topaz eyes glowed with banked excitement, a reaction he and Olivia didn’t display as often as real wereseals. Olivia sat back in her seat and smiled, asking no more questions. If James was this stoked, their destination had to be good. They and their security left the city’s winding underwater streets by one of the north exits. Probably they’d driven through downtown to throw her off the scent. Oceana’s suburbs were populated by low square houses painted in sunny colors and twinkling with round windows. Aquatic plants and corals formed the gardens, though - apparently - there was a fashion to have live starfish line your front walk. As they flew over, she was entertained to see many of the paths had straggled considerably from their intended shape. Suburbanites could stay air-locked all day if they chose. Pressure tubes connected their garages to their homes. Olivia hadn’t yet learned to like transitioning from breathing air to breathing water, but these days she could do it without handholding. Once past the tidy suburbs, they entered wilder lands. Valleys dropped down into the sea floor, with rocky crags to mark their edges. Schools of fish scudded in and out like swift clouds, drawn by patches of vegetation and other food. The fae had created a sun and moon for Oceana, to compensate for living deeper than natural light could reach. Undimmed by the city’s artificial illumination, the moon ruled this waterscape. Their small flotilla of subs seemed to cut through a mysterious blue lagoon. “Here we are,” James said, nosing down into a narrower and still deeper trench. A cave mouth appeared before them, an opening in the glassy black basalt stone. The subs’ powerful headlamps glittered off the surface as if it were extra wet. “Only we’re going in,” Anso said. “Our escort will wait outside.” That was interesting. The guards went with them most everywhere. Also interesting was that Anso’s voice had grown husky. Olivia felt all sorts of nerves perk up. They hadn’t made love in a week and a half. They’d been too busy with jobs and children and had fallen into bed like logs. Sleep was important, but so was sex - especially to people with needs like theirs. James drove them into the cave and up. The water was dark, but clear enough for him to navigate without radar. They passed two large electrum engines anchored on the walls, the gold and silver alloy ideal for holding spells. Wherever they were going, it had been magically modified. “Is the water getting warmer?” Olivia asked curiously.

All the men were grinning as they broke through the surface. The sub windows took a moment to clear, but then she saw they’d reached a huge cavern. Everywhere she looked, candles burned: on ledges, in candelabra, in votive holders beside a steaming saltwater pool. As James steered them up to a small wooden dock, she saw more tapers illuminating a white-clothed table. The silver-domed platters that sat on it suggested dinner was waiting there. “Welcome to the Queen’s Grotto,” Anso said. While she gawked, James popped the sub’s gull-wing doors. “Wow,” Olivia breathed, only half paying attention to Ty and Anso assisting her onto the dock. She spotted a bedroom on an upper ledge farther off, partially draped by a shimmering red curtain. A trail of rose petals marked a path to the bathing pool, beside which tempting jewel colored bottles sat. The whole place was a dream fit for a romantic princess - or an accountant queen, she supposed. “How did you pull this together? It’s amazing!” “Elves,” Anso said, sounding pleased. Because this was Oceana, his answer might have been literal. “Dinner will stay warm as long as we want it to,” Ty said. “Will it?” Olivia wagged her brows at him. Done securing the sub, James hopped onto the dock behind her. “We’re yours to command tonight. We know how hard you’ve been working, between the kids and us and the queening stuff you aren’t totally comfortable with. We want you to know we appreciate it. We all came up with this together.” She looked around at them, handsome and earnest in their tuxedoes. Ty’s half smile was self-deprecating; he didn’t think of himself as a romantic, but his eyes were as affectionate as the others’. She pressed her hands together before her mouth, trying to contain her tears. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “You really ought to command us,” Anso said. “You know those two would especially enjoy it.” She did know this. Ty and James’s kinks ran to the exotic, an affinity that strengthened the special bond between them. Olivia hardly minded catering to it, not when doing so rewarded her. At the thought of being commanded, Ty had begun breathing more shallowly. Loving the prospect of a whole night to play, Olivia’s mouth curved up naughtily. If they wanted a queen, she could provide one. “Follow me,” she said, turning to lead the way up the long path of rose petals. Halfway to the bathing pool, she hitched up her dress and kicked off her shoes. Immediately, she felt freer. The smooth basalt was toasty beneath her feet, the flower petals as soft as skin. When she reached the edge where the steam curled over, she stopped and faced her men. Above the starched white points of his collar, James’s face was now as flushed as Ty’s. “I think you should undress,” she said. “You look nice, but servants really shouldn’t wear tuxedoes. You two first,” she clarified to James and Ty. “The king is going to watch while I enjoy myself with you.” Anso seemed startled by this turn of events. The nature of their mating bond meant he usually needed to go first with her. His royal genes demanded he re-

stake his claim on her. They weren’t in heat now, however. He wouldn’t suffer too badly from waiting. Just enough to be titillating was her plan. “You can undress me,” she said silkily to him. He bowed to her with the grace of the palace born. “My pleasure, Your Majesty.” He toed off his footwear, which she didn’t object to. His dress shoes were awfully nice, and the smooth stone around the steaming natural pool was damp. Then again, maybe he wanted to feel freer too. His crown could weigh heavily. Barefoot, he prowled toward her more like a tiger than a wereseal. Whatever his species, there was extra power and suppleness in his frame. When he tugged his bowtie looser on his neck, Olivia’s pussy clenched. He stepped behind her. He had to. That’s where her gown’s laces were. Having his strength looming over her where she couldn’t see what he was doing sent a feminine shiver up her spine. Anso’s heat shadow reminder her how much bigger he was than her. The sense of vulnerability might have overwhelmed her if Ty and James hadn’t been obeying her orders. They’d found chairs to pull closer to the pool, Hollywood-type director’s chairs with black leather backs and seats. She had a feeling they weren’t originally intended for holding clothes. They all liked putting on shows for each other. James folded his garments as he went, years of wifely training having instilled the habit. Ty’s method of disposal was more of a well-aimed fling, which hardly mattered when Oceana’s magical dry cleaners could restore almost anything. She watched two pairs of beautiful muscled arms appear, two lovely chests and deeply cut abdominals. Heat flushed through her at the display, and then air kissed her bare shoulders. Anso had lowered her bodice to her waist. “They’re a pair, aren’t they?” he murmured beside her ear. They were. Ty was golden with fair hair and sun-kissed skin. James was olive-complected, but his darker and rougher human body hair stood out by comparison. Ty’s build was that of a warrior, James’s a lean mean machine. Joining Ty’s guards for their daily workouts had made quite a stud of him. For the moment, James was performing a homey task. He was fully erect as he sat in the director’s chair to peel off his black dress socks. His penis flushed a darker color than the others’, its crest the broadest. Olivia thought his strong tight legs were the best, but James probably preferred Ty’s long gladiator’s pair. Indisputably, Ty had the cutest butt, tight enough to bounce dimes off, with two kissable dimples to top off its narrow cheeks. His ass was even nicer - and happier - after she warmed it with a brisk spanking. Ty was slower than James to pull off his trousers, no doubt because he liked seeing James get naked. As he tossed his pants onto the haphazard pile on his chair, Olivia noticed his cock was still emerging from its protective pocket. The differences in wereseal anatomy had taken some getting used to, but she and James had come to find them arousing.

James glanced at Ty’s crotch, his attention snagging on the burgeoning erection. Ty’s ball sac bulged with excitement, his tighter than human scrotum more protection for his genitals. Sleek blond fur served as his pubic thatch. She and James both knew how enticing he was to pet. James tore his gaze from Ty’s crotch to look at her. She understood without a word what he was asking. “Yes,” she said huskily. “I think you should help him with that.” “No,” Ty said. “No?” she repeated, surprised by the contradiction. “I thought you were mine to command. Do you want me to punish you?” He flushed, so maybe he partly did, but then he shook his head. The stubbornness of the gesture looked genuine. “No more orders.” Olivia didn’t know what to make of this. Unsure what to do, she planted her hands on her hips. “Ty ...” Anso began. “No,” Ty said. He looked from the king to Olivia. “Tonight is about you, Liv. About us bringing you pleasure, and there you are about to tell James to go down on me. I know you like watching him please me, but that’s not why we’re here. It’s certainly not why I am.” He’d stepped to her as he spoke. He took her shoulders between his hands as if Anso weren’t right behind her. “Tonight I want you to understand how I think of you and me.” The seriousness in his eyes mesmerized her. “How do you think of you and me?” “I think -” He hesitated. When he steadied, his voice was low, as if what he said was a confession. “I think of you and me as husband and wife, exactly like you and James. Exactly like you and Anso.” He shocked her. He was the father of her child. She loved him, she respected him, but she knew what he meant. Emotionally, she let the others an inch closer than she let him. She slid her hands up his incredibly soft chest hair. Beneath his slablike muscles, his heart was pounding from more than arousal. “I love you, Ty,” she said. He smiled gently. “I know you do, but I want you to trust me too. I want you to trust me with yourself.” “Is this a submission game?” “No game. Simply you letting me, letting us pleasure you.” She made herself hold his gaze. Could she do this, simple though it was? She’d always enjoyed pleasing others. Could she let these three men do the same for her? Ty smoothed his big warm hands down her now bare back. “It’s important, Liv. You need to let us do this.” She drew a long shaky breath. “Okay.” “Does this mean I still have to wait?” Anso asked. “Yes,” the other two chorused. Olivia was glad they agreed with her on that.

“Finish undressing her,” Ty said to Anso as she grinned. The order settled any doubts that he was taking command. He enjoyed being dominated but also liked doing it himself. The fact that the king let very few folks order him around made the switch up more exciting. Anso’s hands faltered for two telling seconds, then finished loosening the corset ties at her waist. Freed, the blue velvet fell soft and weighty, landing in a puddle around her feet. Three male throats caught on gasps. Olivia smiled to herself. Finally, her navy lace push-up bra and thong were receiving the thankfulness they deserved. “Wow,” Ty said, his burning yellow gaze traveling to her ankles and up again. Anso took her waist in his hands, framing its inward curve for the other men. He kissed the back of her neck where her hair was pinned up. Close as he was, she felt the heat of his hastened breathing. He had his own view to respond to. “Wow,” James echoed. His eyes zeroed in on the creamy offering her bra turned her breasts into. He licked his lips. “You know, I think your rack is even better since having the triplets.” “It’s delectable,” Ty agreed. Surprisingly for a man who couldn’t be completely happy without man-on-man action, he was a breast fancier. From the first time he’d kissed her there, he’d been fixated. “Her in that bra is better than a Victoria’s Secret ad.” “The thong is killer,” James observed. “Those muscles she has in her thighs.” “They do squeeze a guy just right. And at the perfect times.” Anso chuckled behind her at this interplay. “Okay,” she said. “Now that you’ve objectified me enough to soothe my ego, this fancy underwear has to go.” Ty pouted at the proposed loss of his visual, but Anso was already unhooking her. He slid the bra off her arms and kissed a teasing descent along her spine. Kneeling at the bottom, he pulled the miniscule panties down her legs. His cheek was a breath away from resting on her butt. The way his hands caressed her calves said he liked his current perspective. Once she was naked, the others forgot to complain. Ty’s cock jolted fully rigid, the protective pocket sealed tight around its thick base. He rolled his lips together. The little gesture made her cream, her thighs pressing each other with rising lust. She had the impression she often did: that only taking all of them would satisfy her needs. Ty’s sun-bright eyes lifted to meet hers. His expression said he knew all about her greed - and approved of it. He spoke hoarsely. “Into the pool, Liv. James and I will get started on you there.” She didn’t have to step in. With his newly honed part-were strength, James scooped her up and walked down the carved foot ledges. The steaming water was the perfect temperature. Muscles she hadn’t known were tense relaxed as James submerged them both to their necks. She couldn’t tell how deep the pool was, but there was a ledge for him to sit on. He settled with her facing forward on his lap, her limbs adrift in the saltwater. The back of her head rested easily on his broad shoulder.

“Oh this is dreamy,” she sighed. Ty stepped into the pool with a grace that was more animal than human. As the water rose up his fine male body, James’s hands began making tingling passes along her arms. A single breast stroke brought Ty across the pool to them. The heat of the water would have sapped the stiffness from an ordinary man’s erection. Proving he was no longer ordinary, James got harder as Ty arrived, his smooth tight cockhead bumping her bottom. Skilled at controlling himself in water, Ty’s knees bracketed either side of hers and squeezed them together, increasing her awareness of the tenderness in her sex. His hands gripped the pool’s rocky edge behind her and James, as if both of them were his prey. To go by James’s involuntary shiver, he thought so too. Olivia’s nipples tightened emphatically. Ty smiled, gaze dipping to this development before coming back to hers. “Let’s have some bath oil, shall we?” James reached for what Ty wanted: an old fashioned cobalt glass bottle with a cork stopper. Opening it released the fragrance of fresh lilacs. “Pour it all in,” Ty said. James poured and the hot relaxing water turned deliciously silky. “It’s spelled,” Ty purred, “to keep everything nice and wet no matter how long we entertain ourselves.” Olivia wasn’t sure she needed the help. She was squirming in James’s arms, which had tightened around her. He palmed both her breasts and grunted, feeling how tight her nipples already were. He squeezed their softness, then lightly pulled out the aching peaks. Olivia’s sheath abruptly felt twice as empty. James read her reactions easily. “Don’t worry,” he promised into her ear. “Ty and I will take care of you.” A look passed between the men that made James’s cock twitch thickly under her. The pair did like working as a team. With a slanting half-smile that could have defined wicked, Ty took her knees in his hands and pushed them apart gently. Warm fluttering currents rushed to her squirmy parts. “Want to find out how long I can hold my breath?” he teased. She moaned even as he sank under the water. It was always exciting to have more than one man’s hands on her. She’d trust any of her husbands with her life, but there was no denying she was at their mercy. They were men, and they were stronger, and they outnumbered her. Good thing all they wanted was to drive her crazy. Ty nuzzled between her labia, that alone reminding her how engorged her clitoris was. She felt him hum as he licked up the responsive button, the pointed tip of his tongue as clever as he himself was. The tickling motions felt so good, so on-target that she fought not to wriggle and displace him. Perhaps he sensed her struggle. His grip on her hipbones grew firmer. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him to suck her swollen clit or drive his fingers inside of her. At least, she did until he found a nerve to work his tongue against that felt so insanely sweet all she wanted was for him to go on doing that forever. Two more minutes was his limit - unless he wanted to change over from air breathing.

He burst up laughing and gasping, water streaming down his handsome face. “Jeez, Liv. I guess you liked that. James and I together couldn’t keep you still.” She glared at him, mostly because he hadn’t let her come. Not the least bit apologetic, he kissed her quick and hard on the mouth, then drew a deeper lungfilling breath. This time as he submerged, he stopped to suckle the breasts James held cupped up for him. His tongue swirled around her nipples, the soft inside of his cheeks pulling. More than his mouth tugged at her. Every muscle in his body told her he craved this. Primitive instincts rose in her - to nurture, to love. Unable not to forgive him, Olivia stroked Ty’s floating hair back around his head. She loved being tender to all her men, but to Ty especially. Too many people in his life hadn’t been as nice to him as they should. James’s fingers stroked both of them. Maybe this was too much kindness. If his secret longing to be cosseted were discovered, he might find that dangerous. Ty pulled free and gave her stomach a playful nip. He came up once more for air, winking as he made a playful drama of expanding his chest fully. When he plunged again, he headed straight for her pussy. The way he latched onto her clit and suckled made the pulse between her legs beat a wild samba. Olivia arched and moaned. She needed James’s iron hold to keep from thrashing free. “Take my hand,” Anso said. He was stretched out on his front by the bathing pool, his arm extended to her. Olivia took it, though she felt stupid - and maybe a little guilty - for not having noticed him drop there. Because he understood the powers of distraction their mutual mates could wield, he smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” he said. “He can stay under there for ten minutes if he wants to.” “That’s not what I’m worried about.” She groaned, twisting uncontrollably as Ty pulled harder. “If he doesn’t make me come this time, I’m going to drown him!” James took this as his cue to slide two fingers into her sheath, right under Ty’s working mouth. She gripped Anso’s hand so hard she was probably hurting him. Those intertwined sensations - James’s gliding fingers, Ty’s lips and tongue were enough to stretch her spine as tight as a bow. She strained to go over, but couldn’t quite manage it. Kept from sleeping with women for most of his adult life, as soon as he got the chance, Ty had made a study of her reactions. Olivia had no doubt he was deliberately holding her on the edge. She cursed, but far from earning her pity, James and Anso began panting. James she expected the reaction from. Anything to do with bondage - his own or someone else’s - was a turn on for him. Anso’s excitement was more of a surprise. Somewhat to her dismay, him getting wound up made her more wound up too. She truly couldn’t stop herself from writhing. The water began to chop around them, Ty having to work harder to keep control of her. The sound ricocheted in the huge grotto. “Fuck,” James breathed. “This is too damn hot.” He was forgetting to move his fingers, though they were still inside her.

Ty came up again. His hands remained on her thighs, holding them apart. He shook his head to fling off water droplets. She didn’t need to see how hard he was. Desire practically vibrated from him to her. “Who do you want?” he panted. “All of us are yours. You can have any of us you want first.” Awed by him, she stroked his water darkened hair back from one cheekbone. “I want you. I want you to come inside me. I want my pussy strangling your cock when I go over.” Were-light flared in his eyes. “You sure?” “Really sure,” she growled and slid her hands to his hips. Thanks to James’s diligent research, Olivia was the proud possessor of one of the Pocket’s first medically spelled birth control implants. Despite the weres’ heightened fertility, Ty needed no special precautions before yanking his hips to hers. Because she sat on James’s lap, she couldn’t miss what this did to him. Beneath her ass cheeks, his hard length throbbed as crazily as if he were about to take her. It said something about the twists in Olivia’s nature that this pushed her buttons. “James,” Ty said, a low rumble of warning. His eyes stayed locked on hers. “Move your fingers out of my way.” James made a little sound. His fingers slid deeper in, increasing the pressure on her front wall, where she was extra sensitive. Maybe the motion was accidental; Ty’s tone could have startled him. Evidently, Ty didn’t believe in accidents. “Now,” he insisted. That James still didn’t move had to be on purpose. Ty’s gaze shifted from her to him. Olivia sensed both her and Anso holding their breath. These two rarely butted heads about anything. “I love you,” Ty said to James but not sweetly. “Olivia loves you. You’ve been a unicorn in clover ever since we four mated. Why can’t you let her love me as much as she loves you? Why do you always have to be the expert on what Olivia wants? I love you both the same amount. Why don’t you trust her to do that too?” “I don’t - That’s not -” James must have realized he was stammering as badly as she did occasionally. He stopped and tried again. “What Olivia feels is up to her.” “It is,” Olivia agreed. She was over the disloyalty she’d felt when she first started falling for two men she wasn’t married to. “Maybe mostly,” Ty said, speaking to her more softly. “But not completely. James respects Anso. He might not realize it, but he thinks of him as his superior. He competes with me over you because, to him, I’m not quite his equal. Anso is king. James is a successful CEO. What am I besides the captain of Anso’s guards?” Was what Ty was saying true? Olivia didn’t care overly about status and titles, but it was possible James might. It was also possible Ty cared about them most of all.

“You’re their equal to me,” she said. She laid her hands on his chest where his heart thudded part from lust and part from emotion. “You know men compete. Weres too, I presume. You might have to cut each other some slack on that. If there’s a teensy bit more distance between you and me, I think ... I think that’s because you’re a little pricklier than the others, and because sometimes I’m sensitive. Give us time, Ty. James and I had twenty years on our own. You’ve no idea how much it means to me that you want to have that kind of closeness between us.” “Really?” he said, wide-eyed and hopeful. God, he got to her when he was like this. “Really,” she assured him. Ty’s beautiful face lit up with a smile. “Well, all right then. But James still needs to pull his fucking fingers out of you. He’ll have to help me please you another way.” She felt James shake his head behind her and suspected he was rolling his eyes. In spite of that possibility, his fingers eased gently out of her. “You and I so have to talk later, man,” he said. “Much later,” Ty said, his grinning mouth dropping onto hers. Each of Olivia’s men offered their own flavor of kissing. Ty’s signature style played out an ongoing war between sweet and aggressive: his inner bad boy trying to be considerate of the - to him - delicate female. Olivia relished both sides of his character, sometimes goading the devilish one to come out. Tonight she knew he wanted to be nice to her. She kept her end of the kiss gentle, stroking his hair, his back, her fingertips bumping down his spine until he shook with a small shiver. No self-respecting female could have resisted petting his tailbone. He had the subtlest lick of seal fur there. “Liv,” he murmured. His glans had been nudging her all along, a sleek reminder of what they both wanted him to give her. Olivia thought she’d showed admirable restraint by not clamping her thighs tighter and pushing over him. “Now please?” she said softly against his lips. He smiled slightly and rocked forward. His shaft and head felt hotly buttered, the enchanted bath oil enhancing the effect of her arousal. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat with pleasure, afraid to exhale and break the spell. Despite Ty’s scolding, James hadn’t given up on helping. She was three quarters filled when his hips pushed hers up. Bliss at being filled all the way made her spine wriggle. Her thighs were already hugging Ty’s. James’s legs joined hers - stronger, hairier - and she knew Ty couldn’t help liking that. James was the other piece of what Ty’s puzzle craved. “Bastard,” Ty muttered, certainly not to her. “I’m mad at you.” “Now, now,” Olivia said. “You know I like it best when you’re good to each other.” Ty gave her a hooded look. “Please?” she said sweetly. “Pretty please?” James added.

Ty snorted, then craned around her to kiss her first husband. Inside her pussy, a pulse quickened. Whether it was Ty’s or hers hardly mattered. The kiss lasted long enough to draw a sound of hunger from James’s throat. When Ty pulled back and returned to her, he looked smug. Deciding she deserved her own tit for tat, Olivia dragged one hand down his front. Four fingertips crossed his navel and combed through his pubic pelt, their journey ending at the seam that hugged the base of his erection. His penetration hadn’t left a lot of space between them, but Olivia doubted she’d need it. She wedged the pad of her thumb on his root, then pushed the seam down and rubbed. Ty sucked a breath, a flush rising sharply into his face. She wasn’t baring much new skin, but the section of his penis that she massaged was almost always protected. The way his length leaped inside her said this was pleasurable to him. That he also had to fight an instinct to pull away spun his personal erotic dial to high. Fear and lust, pain and pleasure were the contrasts Ty’s kinks were made of. He grunted and pushed deeper as she continued her kneading. “We all have our vulnerable spots,” she pointed out breathlessly. He was smart enough to know she meant more than sexually. He kissed her - deep, slow, hard - the bad boy and the caring mate melding. He began surging in and out, not fast but like he had to make love to her. She didn’t stop playing with his seam, and his throttled groans praised her boldness. Wanting to push his limits, she stretched her second thumb onto him. “God,” he gasped and thrust more strongly. “Jack him off,” she said, though his new movements felt so good it was hard to speak. “Rub James off under me.” As the men fought to get their arms into new positions, their impatient noises were an aphrodisiac for her ears. Ty’s hand cupped James’s near-to-bursting cock hard against her ass. Even more welcome, James’s fingertips found a home on her clitoris. This time, when he gave her exactly what she liked, Ty was too occupied to protest. It probably didn’t hurt that she came in six seconds. “God,” he groaned, the three of them heaving together. “Fuck. Do that again.” He could have meant her just as easily as James. Because they were both happy to comply, the steaming water churned around them, threatening to douse the nearer candles. Olivia’s second climax was a snap. Her third would take more effort, though she didn’t want it less on that account. She growled with longing as she racked her nails not-so-lightly down Ty’s back. “Oh yeah,” he growled back, darker and deeper. “You are going over again for me.” Not just for him, and not only because of him. When Ty lengthened his strokes, he truly needed James’s assistance to brace and control her. Her cries came with abandon, her nerves jumping crazily everywhere the men touched. James pinched her right nipple with delirious expertise, his mouth pressed open at the crook of her neck. Ty wasn’t giving him the smoothest hand job, but James must have enjoyed the roughness. He huffed like a marathoner for every tug. Ty’s

second hand clamped the rocky edge of the pool, allowing him to drive his hips more forcefully into her. He wasn’t breathing any more evenly than James. Olivia reveled in the very awkwardness of the arrangement. If one of them lost their grips ... If they couldn’t keep these frictions up long enough ... Ty groaned out a sound that wasn’t quite human, his animal instincts desperate for completion. His cock grew fuller as he pumped within her, the muscles of his chest and arms picking up tension. “Liv,” he managed to grate out. “Look at me.” She couldn’t have disobeyed. When her eyes flared like his, she knew the crash was inevitable. She was already on the wave and it would carry her to shore. James cried out and jerked, his body unable to hold back from climaxing in Ty’s grip. Ty slung deep into her pussy, hips grinding, face twisting. Through it all, his gaze stayed on hers. He was leaving himself naked, letting her watch him as he came. The heat of that half-blind look triggered her as much as James’s fingers on her clit. She smashed from almost to there with a sharpness that stole her breath. Her pussy gave Ty’s cock the strangling she’d promised earlier. The men worked their bodies faster from either side, doubling the ecstasy. The edges between their energy grew hazy. Olivia must have squeezed her eyes shut, because she had to blink them open when the final pleasure shudders ebbed. Both men were hanging onto her for dear life, their faces nuzzling opposite ears. She thought that was so cute she wanted to laugh. Rather than insult them, she looked over at Anso and shared a smile. For a long time, she and the king stared at each other while Olivia caught her breath and let her mates snuggle her. Anso’s deep blue eyes were fathomless and calm, his cheek pillowed on one arm. His smile deepened until a crease that wasn’t quite a dimple appeared beside his mouth. If she’d had to choose a single word to express what her men meant to her, James’s would have been comfort, Ty’s excitement, and Anso’s peace. Together, they made her life a joy she hadn’t known existed. “You’re hogging her,” Anso murmured eventually. “Noo,” Ty complained. “Sleepy now,” James added. Olivia settled the issue by squirming out from the sandwich they were making. Since their limbs had gone lax with satiation, this was no trouble. Feeling absolutely delicious, she swam back to the steps alone. Anso caught her by the wrist to hike her out, her weight no burden to him. “You stay there and rest,” she advised the others. “I’m sure His Majesty isn’t going to do anything you might want to watch.” “She’s lying,” James grumbled. “Yes, she is,” Ty agreed. Olivia and Anso smiled at each other as they walked hand in hand up the stairway that led to the cavern’s wide bedroom ledge. Olivia was naked, Anso shirtless but still in pants. His tuxedo trousers were wet from lying by the pool, but that didn’t seem to bother him. His fingers squeezed hers as they climbed. He loved the others, but now and then he liked being just with her. “They’ll catch up,” he said. “When they’re ready.”

“Maybe if we leave them alone, they’ll hug it out.” “Or something,” Anso tacked on humorously. He pulled the red silk drape aside for her, the vibrant expanse of fabric tall enough for a theater stage. More theatricality lay behind it, the bower he revealed strung with tiny white elf lights. A grove of orchids grew in niches within the smooth black stone, moss and vines trailing out as well. As was the case for most wereseal beds, the room’s large mattress was inset flush with the floor. Interestingly, four carved mahogany posts rose from its corners. “It’s like an upper world four-poster!” Olivia exclaimed, aware Anso sometimes worried she’d get homesick for her old life. “They’re even topped by pineapples!” “It’s a compromise,” Anso said. “I always think I’m going to fall off drylander beds.” Olivia hugged him and he hugged back. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” “You’re welcome,” Anso mumbled into her hair. “Especially since the post thing was my idea.” “James likes sleeping at floor level.” “And you?” She pushed back and smiled at him. “I like sleeping anywhere you are.” He stroked a disheveled red lock behind her ear, her hair pins lost who knew where. His eyes grew more serious. “I want you to lie down for me,” he said. This was how he mastered his partners: with quiet intensity. He had storms in him, but it took the throes of passion to bring them out. “As you wish,” she said to him. With a flourish she probably couldn’t have pulled off before she became partwere, she stepped onto the center of the covers, gripped his hand more securely, and borrowed his strength to lower herself full length onto her back. He liked her trick, his smile stretching broader as he stood over her. Anso wasn’t the biggest talker of her husbands. He said quite a lot wordlessly by undoing his damp trousers and pushing them down his legs. His full blown erection bounced as he kicked the pants away. “Is that for me?” she asked coyly. “Eventually.” “Eventually!” Laughing, she came up on her elbows. “Stay,” he ordered. “You can have this if you behave yourself.” He was in a mood, all right. Enjoying it, Olivia relaxed back among the pillows, her neck propped up on a silk bolster. Seeing she was compliant, Anso retrieved a pretty soup bowl sized jar from a low Moroccan table. When he unscrewed the silver lid, a sugary vanilla scent wafted out. Anso scooped a dollop of the creamy contents onto his palm. “Do I need moisturizing?” she asked. “This is for massages. By the time I’m through, you’re going to be too relaxed to spell ‘state dinner.’” That was a nice promise. “Should I turn over?”

He shook his head. “I want stroke your front. I want to watch every scrap of pleasure ripple across your face.” “I’ll be able to watch you too.” “Yes, you will,” he agreed. Just as obviously aroused as he was amused, his eyes twinkled and glowed simultaneously. He dropped to his knees at her feet, the bed big enough to hold them both this way. The lights that shone through the scarlet curtain cast a rosy glow on his hard physique. “Move your feet apart,” he said. She did, and he scooted closer, the intent manner with which he did this heightening her suspense. He’d given her backrubs, just as she’d given them to him, but being face to face was a new approach. He caught her right ankle in one oiled hand, placed it on his shoulder, then slid his second palm down the silky inner length of her lifted leg. Every nerve he passed tingled. They set off sparklers when he stroked her the other way. She bit her lip, a moan she couldn’t contain breaking in her throat. Her pussy was welling up, as if she hadn’t just stepped out of a steaming pool after having vigorous sex. Clearly, her sex drive wasn’t designed for playing hard to get. Her moan increased a decibel or ten when he dug his thumb into the arch of her foot. She hadn’t known those nerves connected straight to her clit. Each time he exerted pressure on one spot, that part of her jumped like it had a tic. Anso laughed at her reaction. “You’re making this too easy.” “That’s not ... really a complaint, is it?” She might have been easy, but he wasn’t rushing her. His smile didn’t disappear, just grew more subtle and salacious. Both her legs were kneaded and stroked, then her arms, and then he did unbelievably soothing things to the back and sides of her neck. For this he had to straddle her waist, his erection a lovely cudgel pointing up in front of him. He was breathing slowly, deeply, and - despite wallowing in her own luxurious sensations - she simply couldn’t resist touching his penis. The flame blue glow in his eyes brightened. “You think you’re allowed to do that?” “Oh yes.” She cruised up his rigid heat with both hands. “I think this is exactly why you moved into reach.” His smile tipped feyly, so perhaps it was. “Would you like some oil for your palms?” “I would,” she answered with equal - and equally breathless - politeness. “That cream really smells yummy.” He offered her the jar, then scooped up more for himself. When he laid both hands on her breasts she nearly forgot to put hers on him. The way he caressed her couldn’t help but be sexual, and yet its purpose seemed to be to relax her. He circled her breasts, firmly, smoothly, as if they were another muscle that needed loosening. Around and around he went, until her cells were humming, every inch of her turned into an erogenous zone. Her spine arched off the bed with pleasure as he dragged his grip down the sides of her ribcage.

From there he moved inward and pushed up, across her nipples and then over her shoulders. Again he repeated the dreamy circuit, and again she went limp and taut by turns. She could only hold his erection; she was too overwhelmed by bliss to fondle him. In truth, she might have gripped him too tightly a couple times. “An-so,” she whimpered when he bent, just once, to suck her nipples. “You can wait,” he said, his eyes gone slumberous and beautiful. “After all, you were going to make me.” “I need you.” He had a mild aphrodisiac in his saliva, and the next time he stroked across her nipples, they were more sensitive. He kept his hands there, buffing them up and down. “I need you too.” “May I kiss your cock?” she asked. Her thumbs crooked over his crest, where she’d forgotten to move them. She moved them now, back and forth, pushing the thick seep of his excitement across the satiny skin and the little hole. His thigh muscles corded like steel cables, his eyes closing with enjoyment. Both sides of his nature were struggling for control. “Please let me suck you,” she said, knowing he had trouble resisting her requests. His eyelids dragged halfway up. “That’s what you want? To give me pleasure as well?” “Always,” she breathed. He cupped his hand behind her neck, carefully helping her rise to him. His hard-on was so upright she had to tug the head to her lips. A hint of vanilla flavored his musky taste. He held her there, not lying down, not sitting up, his strength so unwavering even as she fellated him that her own weight was no strain to herself. Her only challenge was to trust he’d support her. He did, of course. Anso never let down anyone he loved. Knowing what he wanted, she stayed gentle, not trying to bring him off, but to show him how much she loved every part of him. She took his hot silky cock as deep as she could, her tongue stroking care into him, her hands playing over his groin and testicles. It didn’t take much of this to pull him to his limit - no surprise, since he seemed to feel their periods of abstinence the most. He moaned for her and rocked to her, until the tension in his thighs and stomach signaled he couldn’t take any more. “Liv,” he gasped, dragging away from her. She wriggled higher on the bed, drew her legs up and out so that they framed his, and nudged his thigh with one knee. His shaft had the upward curve it got when he reached maximum arousal. “Better find a home for that quick,” she said. Her manner was pure Mae West, but he wasn’t amused right then. His own eyes burning, he dropped forward onto braced arms. His hips filled the space she’d made for them. “You,” he said, “are the best part of me.”

Before she had a chance to tear up, he gave her the storm in him. His thrusts were hard and sure, and she welcomed every one. He went at her like he wasn’t ever going to stop. “God,” he gasped, suddenly lifting and slanting both their bodies another way. She saw why when he reached above her to grab one bedpost, which evidently was anchored well. His strokes increased in power and speed, the upcurve of his shaft ensuring his cap strafed the G-spot cushion on her front wall. Being pummeled there was an agonizing kind of heaven. Olivia made a sound that wasn’t a word at all. “God,” Anso swore again. “I can’t stop. Watching the others take you makes me crazy.” He didn’t seem to be suggesting it made him a bad crazy. Her head beginning to thrash, she bent one leg up and held it to give him the access and angle they both liked best. Her other arm clutched his back, the muscles of which were bunching and slicked with sweat. His prick thickened inside her. “Yes,” she groaned, the extra stretch doing something good-crazy to her nerves. “Anso.” He went faster but not harder. His left hand was locked around her bottom, and he had no intention of moving it. He used his upper body to press the bend of her upraised leg tighter. The little shift was magic. The sharpest possible sexual sensations jabbed up her clit, almost too pleasurable to process. Apparently, Anso was having a similar experience. “Fuck,” he gasped, his hips churning helplessly into hyperspeed. “Fuckfuckfuck.” He came with a sandpapered groan. Olivia thought she’d been coming already, but as his seed burst hot inside her, her ecstasy leaped so high she should have had vertigo. He let go of the post to hold only her. “Unh,” he grunted, jamming himself repeatedly to her end. “Unh. Unh.” Because he was a were and a king, for whom every aspect of sex was heightened, his ejaculations went on for a very wonderful while. “Mmm,” Olivia hummed, savoring the last pleasure-spreading percussions. He released her up-bent leg, both of them stretching as muscles tightened by climaxes relaxed. Warmed all over with satisfaction and happiness, Olivia stroked her hands up and down his heaving back. She noticed his cock was still hard in her. Hips flexing to enjoy that, Anso rubbed his face in her outspread hair. “That was good,” he said throatily. A new weight settled on the rumpled covers to their left, followed by another one on their right. “I give that performance a 9.5,” Ty said. “Not a ten?” James quipped. “A good judge always leaves room for improvement.” Olivia smiled without opening her eyes. “You two hug it out?” “For now.” Ty sounded slyly pleased with himself. Olivia concluded Anso’s or something had played a part in their discussion. “Are you two majesties going

to lie here forever? James and I are hungry for dinner, and Anso looks as if he needs more fuel before he starts a second round.” “Mmph,” said the king, pretending to be insulted. He turned his face toward her cheek so only she felt his hidden grin. Every bit of this pleased her. The balance between the four of them might not be perfect, but she was willing to bet it would always be rewarding. “Come on,” James coaxed, playfully tugging their entwined hair. “You know how seldom we get to eat together just the four of us.” Anso grumbled some more for form’s sake, but sat back from her soon enough. “Oh he did you good,” Ty drawled when he got a look at her well fucked state. Smiling, Olivia teased the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. “I did him good too, Ty.” Her vixenish manner lifted Ty’s fair eyebrows, but James evinced no surprise. His laugh was as warm as it was easy. “You’re liking date night, I see.” “I am,” she confirmed. “And I’m liking even more that it isn’t over yet ...” ###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR EMMA Holly is the award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romantic novels, featuring vampires, demons, fairies and just plain extraordinary ordinary folks. She loves the hot stuff, both to read and to write! If you’d like to find out what else she’s written, please visit her website at: http://www.emmaholly.com. She runs monthly contests and sends out newsletters that often include coupons for new books. To receive them, go to her contest page. If you like threesomes, her Victorianish demon novel, The Assassins’ Lover, is also available. If sexy shapechangers are your thing, you might try Hidden Talents, which features a werewolf cop and is set in the same general story world as “Date Night” and Hidden Depths. An excerpt from Hidden Depths follows. Thanks so much for reading this book!

an excerpt from HIDDEN DEPTHS JAMES and Olivia Forster have been happily married for many years. Their grown-up daughter is thriving, as is their successful family-owned business. A harmless kink here or there spices up their love life, but they can’t imagine the kinks they’ll encounter while sneaking off to their beach house for a long hot weekend. Certainly, they don’t expect their understanding of the world they live in to be turned upside down. Anso Vitul has ruled the wereseals for one short month. He hardly needs his authority questioned because he’s going crazy from mating heat, a condition made more tormenting by having been forbidden to have sex with a female. Anso’s best friend and male lover Ty volunteers to help him find the human mate his royal genes are seeking. To Ty’s amazement, Anso’s quest leads him claim not one partner but a pair. Ty would object, except he too finds the Forsters hopelessly attractive. When this hot-blooded foursome embark on their erotic voyage, more than the ocean is going to make waves. available in ebook and print

CHAPTER one AN isolated beach on a clear spring day was a wonderful place to think. As Olivia Forster lazed on a towel in her red bikini, the thought she worked on was this: She and her husband James were different from their married friends. Olivia couldn’t say why exactly. They all had similar high-powered jobs and comfortable houses on Long Island. They’d all been married around two decades and were within a stone’s throw of forty from either side. In Olivia’s opinion, all of them were attractive, though some of the women obsessed about their weight. They weren’t necessarily intellectuals, but neither were they idiots. Their marriages had reached the vintage where they knew relationships needed work. More importantly, none were so lazy or uncaring that they wouldn’t put in that work. All of them had at least one child who’d reached adulthood more or less in one piece. Despite these similarities, Olivia had observed that although she and James were happy, their friends were - to greater or lesser degrees - habitually dissatisfied with their lives. Her inner perplexity must have showed in her expression. James, her darling husband of mumble-mumble years, rolled toward her on their shared beach towel. He was tall and dark and just as handsome to her as he’d been when he was twenty. Every day, they worked together at the multimedia firm they’d founded twelve years ago, which could have been awful but turned out to be the best job either of them ever had. Olivia still loved seeing James in his suit and tie, though as head of accounting - she rarely wore anything fancier to work than a blouse and jeans. He teased her about that, but never angrily. He seemed to like that she couldn’t be swayed from her favorite things. Since he was one of those favorite things, she supposed that made sense. “Hey,” he said now, tapping her furrowed brow. Hardly minding the interruption, she turned her head toward him. As she did, he gave her the killer grin that had seduced her the day they met. It was boyish and crinkly and genuinely affectionate. Every time she saw it, her heart warmed impossibly. She was so lucky he’d fallen in love with her. “I know we’re playing hooky,” he said, “but now you’re playing hooky from me.” She wriggled around until she lay on her side as well. Her wavy red locks fell forward, reminding her she could use a trim. Despite their unkempt state, she didn’t sweep them back. Like a background that was meant to lull them into intimacy, the Atlantic waves broke foamingly on the shore. Olivia felt as if she were dreaming when she spoke. “I was wondering why I look at you and feel happy, when Sherri looks at Mark and sees everything she wishes he’d fix about himself.” “That’s easy. Clearly, I’m perfect.” “You are not,” she said, shoving his admirably buff chest. “No more than I am.” “You’re perfect to me.”

“What about my shyness? Or the way I need to organize everything?” James shrugged one muscular shoulder. “Neither of those things are worth getting upset about.” “Why aren’t they, though? Why does Dan go ballistic when Kim buys a pair of shoes he thinks she’ll never wear, and you and I let stuff like that roll off us?” James’s dark brows puckered above his hazel eyes. “Are you suggesting we ought to fight about those things?” “No. I’m just wondering why we’re different.” “I believe I told you why we’re different the day I proposed. You and I are soulmates. We’ve been married in lots of lives before.” Olivia rolled her eyes even though she loved hearing him say this - as she was sure he knew. James was endearingly proud of being romantic. “How do you know our friends aren’t soulmates as well? Can’t soulmates be grumpy?” James cocked his head, his expression the one he got any time he heard an idea that started his gears turning. His willingness to entertain other people’s viewpoints was part of what made him an excellent CEO. “I suppose they could be,” he said. “And,” Olivia said, encouraged by his attitude, “how do you know for sure I’m everything you need in a partner?” And then she saw it: the tiniest shadow shuttering his friendly hazel eyes. At first, she thought the emotion the shadow inspired in her was fear. Her chest did go tight, and adrenaline certainly surged into her veins. When she looked inside herself, however, fear wasn’t what she found. James loved her. That she knew as surely as the earth going round the sun. Strange as it sounded, she thought her reaction to the idea that James had a secret might be excitement. Intrigued, she sat up and looked down at him, her hand pressed to the place where her heart pounded in her chest. They both liked to swim every morning before they drove to work, and she was nearly as fit as him. Her red bikini wasn’t something she was embarrassed to be seen in. On the other hand, the way her nipples beaded painfully tight beneath it made her a tad self-conscious. Luckily, James was peering into her eyes right then. But maybe it wasn’t nice to call that lucky when his expression was so concerned. “There is something,” she breathed, giving voice to her suspicions. “Something you want that I’m not giving you.” “Liv,” he cautioned. “Is it the games?” she asked, her pulse drumming harder. “Do you wish we played them more often?” He blushed, something he almost never did. His coloring was naturally dark, and usually it hid embarrassment. She glanced at his Speedo, which he carried off a good deal better than most men half his age - and never mind that his choice of swimwear sometimes gave their twenty-something daughter conniptions. If Violet had been around, instead of minding the store at Forster Media, he’d have had to cover himself. His cock was swelling inside the stretchy fabric, the swiftness of its rise and his not insignificant size creating an effect that was thoroughly Xrated.

Apparently, he couldn’t make it go down by reciting baseball scores. As soon as he saw her notice, his hard-on jerked bigger. Olivia bit her lip and laughed. “You know I like our games, right? I have made that clear to you?” “I never want to pressure you.” She cupped his erection gently, hoping the touch was reassuring as well as pleasurable. The latter certainly seemed to be true. His entire bulging package jumped in her hold, his heat and hardness causing her to liquefy. Violet wouldn’t have wanted to know about that either. “You never pressure me,” she said. “Some of my favorite memories of us in bed are watching you go wild from me taking charge. What turns you on turns me on. It’s as simple as that.” To her amazement, tears glazed her husband’s eyes. “I feel the same,” he said huskily. “Oh sweetheart!” she cried, because he was almost too emotional to get the declaration out. In that moment, she couldn’t think she was wrong to take such joy in pleasing him. She wasn’t a fifties throwback, as Sherri sometimes accused. James deserved every bit of adoration she gave him. She swung one leg over his thighs even as he sat up to meet her. He took her face between his strong olive hands. Everything fell away but him, her universe filled with his tenderness. “I love you, Liv. Even more than you understand. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” He kissed her before she could swear that would never happen. He might like being dominated, but the way he kissed was all man. Twenty years hadn’t dulled the magic of his lips pressing hers open, of his tongue sliding sleek and hard against hers. He had the best lips ever, narrow but expressive, with smooth skin and firm muscles. Employing them to good advantage, he drew a sound of longing from deep within her throat. She pushed him back and he let her, both their breath coming quicker with anticipation as he fell back against the towel. James’s diaphragm went in and out, emphasizing the development of his upper chest. Somewhat lower, his erection prodded her bikini bottom, tempting her to roll on it. Feeling completely wicked, Olivia untied her bikini top. “Liv,” he breathed. “Here?” She’d always been on the slender side, her shoulders slightly broader than her boyish hips. Fortyish or not, her breasts sat prettily on her ribs. James’s eyes snagged on them, then rose admiringly to her face. Olivia admitted she liked both stares. “Why not?” she said, flinging caution to the winds. “We’re behind a dune. And we have the beach to ourselves.” “What if someone comes close enough to see?” “Then we’ll run back to the cottage, and some old codger walking his dog will have a story to tell his friends.” James laughed, his hands coming up to cup and caress her breasts. His strokes were sure, the tips of his fingers deft. In seconds, he had her nipples achy and

hard. He liked seeing them that way. He wet his lips as he watched himself tug them out. “I think you should let go of me,” she said, her voice not as steady as before. “I need to tie your wrists together.” He inhaled sharply, his hands stilling. His whole body seemed to help him hold his breath. “Above your head,” she said, pushing his strong arms there. He didn’t resist as she bound them with her bikini top. He breathed more raggedly instead and got so hard he started leaking inside his Speedo. James had been her first lover, and she’d always been fascinated by his cock: the size of it and the heft, the way it responded so readily to almost anything she did. Their first game - which had happened by accident - had surprised her, because she hadn’t known he could enjoy sex more than he already did. She’d always thought one of his finest qualities was how much he loved fucking. She did too, and it was nice to be kept up with. “Lift your hips,” she said, wanting to admire the picture he was making. James lifted and she dragged his snug black swimsuit far enough down his ass to bare him. Digging between his thighs, she pulled his balls up so the elastic cradled them. His testicles were about half drawn up, and she knew she had time to play. Maybe he did too. He moved his hips restlessly, like he was trying to dig a deeper depression into the sand underneath the towel. Rather than succumb to what she wanted, which was to plunge her aching pussy over that tall thick rod, Olivia stood and skimmed her swimsuit bottom down her legs. When she stepped out of it, completely nude in the open air, James let out a groan that said better than words how sexy she was to him. Because she thought it would flip his switches, she stepped over him like a Valkyrie, one bare foot firmly planted to either side of his hips. “I am your queen,” she said, the words oddly natural. “Yes,” he agreed. “You’re here to serve me.” “Yes.” “Anything I ask of you, you must obey.” His eyes dipped to the triangle of curls that declared her a true redhead. In her legs-akimbo pose, she was certain he could see her sexual moisture glistening. “Anything,” he said hoarsely, making it a plea. She dropped to her hands and knees so quickly he couldn’t help but gasp. She was crouched over him like a cat, unmistakably predatory. As she’d hoped, this flipped his switches too. “You won’t come until I say, no matter what I do.” This time, her darling husband could only groan. She kissed him too quickly and too sharply for him to kiss her back. With the in and out rhythm of the waves as accompaniment, she nipped a stinging path down his long lean body. His nipples tightened for her biting kisses, and chill bumps broke out across his skin. His strong legs kicked when her fingers stroked the ticklish spots on his abdomen, and again when she stuck her tongue into his navel. The one thing he didn’t do was laugh.

He was too involved in what she was up to for that. She’d reached his gorgeous erection. The thing stretched thick and flushed and veiny up his belly. It and he shivered when she blew on it. For just a second, she wondered what other men looked like when they were this aroused. The thought disturbed her, and she shook it off. She didn’t need other men when she had James. “I think my servant needs a bit more restraint,” she said. They’d brought a little picnic down to the beach. Nothing elaborate, just sandwiches and salad and soda pop, bought ready-made from the small local grocery store. Olivia dug into the plastic bag to retrieve a rubber band she thought was the perfect size and thickness. “Liv,” James said when he saw it, the word wrenched from him. Liking that, she stretched the band between her fingers. “Tell me if it hurts.” She bound it twice around the base of his balls. Their skin got tighter and darker, partly from the way the rubber band forced it taut and partly from his excitement. She petted his fullness gently, trying to gauge if she’d gone too far. She hoped not. She really liked the way he looked trussed up and on display. People were so wrong about women not being visual. “Too tight?” she asked. He shook his head jerkily. “Will the constriction make it harder for you to come?” “I don’t know,” he whispered. “It’s really turning me on.” A shiver ran across her shoulders, his excitement heightening hers. Her pussy was squirming, like it was trying to rub itself. His eyes held hers when her gaze lifted, their goldy-green-blue darkened by the expansion of his pupils. He was no stranger, and yet she’d never seen him as pushed to the edge as this. She felt as if she were a stranger herself, as if together they’d crossed the barrier into Neverland. Her mind flashed back to the odd second when she’d wondered what other men’s cocks looked like. Outside of magazines and X-rated movies, she’d never encountered one close up. Momentarily nervous about what her eyes might reveal, she shifted her attention to James’s erection. Surely there couldn’t be a better visual than this. His hole was leaking more than before, the clear fluid trickling down the swollen crest onto his hard belly. “I want to lick your cock,” she announced. “My queen should do as she wishes,” was his breathless response. Slick wet heat ran out from her sex. She wanted James to see it, wanted him to know what this game of theirs did to her. She turned her body to face his feet. “I want you to pleasure me while I lick you.” “Yes,” he sighed. “That’s what I’d like too.” His bound hands settled on her butt, urging her down to him. Once she’d lowered, he shifted them between her legs, his corded forearms pushing her thighs wider. When his mouth settled over the spot he wanted, his thumbs reached back to work her clitoral hood up and down. Since his mouth was also working her, this meant his thumbs were pushing under his lower lip.

Olivia temporarily forgot what she’d meant to do to him. Oh he was good at giving head, strong and quick and very sure of himself. She groaned at how close to coming one hard suck pulled her. “Don’t,” she said, fingernails digging into his muscled thighs. “Don’t make me climax so soon.” He backed off, and she could think again - enough to take in the view anyway. His cock and balls stared her in the face, a feast of the first order. Olivia was no porn star. She couldn’t deep-throat a man James’s size. She couldn’t moan cinematically or even toss her hair around like one. She’d have felt too silly. Her main advantages were willingness, curiosity, and knowledge of her partner’s sweet spots. And love. That was probably an advantage when it came to driving a man crazy. Olivia crooked her little finger under the cinch of the rubber band, then let it go with a snap. “Christ,” James cursed, his body jerking as his mouth fell from her pussy. Olivia didn’t ask permission. She snapped the band again, drawing a wild cry from him. Then, before the sting on those sensitive nerves could fade from his consciousness, she took the swollen head of him in her mouth. She pressed the soft warm flat of her tongue against it, made sure her teeth were covered, and sucked him once as hard as she could. He nearly came. The taste of precum flooded her mouth as his body writhed under her. She slapped her arms on his thighs, bearing down with her weight and not coincidentally increasing his sense of being restrained. Then she sucked him again. His cry was garbled, pain and ecstasy and shock all rolled into one. She gentled her suckling, but that wouldn’t matter now. She’d already pushed him to the edge, nor would he have forgotten that she’d ordered him not to come. “Oh God,” he gasped, twisting both to and from her suckling mouth. “Stop,” she ordered. Instantly, he froze, giving her a heady sense of power. As she paused to decide on her next order, James sucked in a great gulp of air, no doubt hoping to recover his control. “No more thrashing, servant. I want my hands free to work on you.” “Yes, my queen,” he said in a thready voice. His body tensed but didn’t thrash as she moved her hands to his twitching balls. She didn’t hurt him again. James responded well to variety and surprise. She cupped and compressed his scrotum, then ran three fingers firmly over the smoothness of his perineum. He had nerves here that liked massaging. Sure enough, his back arched off the towel, and he groaned more luxuriously. When she sucked the upper half of his cock back into her mouth, he returned his lips and tongue to her. His bound hands rested compliantly on his belly, fisting and then relaxing as she did things to him that felt good. She wasn’t sure he knew she could see. His reactions made a handy sexual litmus test. She used this to lull his worries that he’d disobey her by climaxing. Letting him relax, she nuzzled his balls, then licked his penis repeatedly. Down and down she swiped her tongue on his underside, over and over like a metronome. Using her saliva to make him glisten, she painted the stretch between the sweet spot

under his rim to the cinch of the rubber band. This would feel good, but it wouldn’t push him over. The muscles in his thighs stopped bunching. “Liv,” he sighed, the sound pure sensual indulgence. Deciding it was time for a change of pace, she licked four fingers and pushed them behind his balls, back onto his perineum, where the structure of his cock rooted. His bound hands didn’t fist up again until she teased her rubbing around the pucker of his anus. He tried to cover the reaction, or possibly deflect her from noticing by stabbing his tongue into her pussy. Olivia was far too accustomed to focusing on him to fall for the ploy. Anal play was a game they hadn’t tried, but she’d seen signs before that he was interested. Perhaps he’d feared she’d find it distasteful, and hadn’t dared bring it up. Whatever his reasons, Olivia decided she’d stop waiting to be asked. She pushed one wet finger into him to its first knuckle. He jerked and gasped, but in a way that made her think he welcomed the intrusion. Made bolder by this reaction, Olivia pushed the finger to its second knuckle and rotated. James choked out a sound, but she couldn’t doubt he liked what he was feeling. His cock swelled and his hips lurched up, shoving him farther into her mouth. A single pull of her cheeks had more of an effect than she anticipated. Suddenly he was thrusting with more purpose, his promise not to come forgotten. More than willing to let him enjoy himself, Olivia wrapped one hand around his throbbing base to prevent him from gagging her. Going on the theory that two fingers were better than one, she drove a second into him. His anal muscles were more relaxed than they’d been initially. Far from resisting, his passage seemed to suck her probing in eagerly. “No,” he gasped, but Olivia didn’t listen. He felt smooth in there and warm. She scooted forward for a better angle, pulling her pussy out of reach of his mouth. Way too excited to mind, she started fucking her fingers in and out of him. She didn’t even know how she knew to do it; maybe these things were instinctive. She felt weirdly sure of herself. This was the speed that felt good. This was the pressure that got to him. “Fuck,” he swore, thrusting faster in and out of her mouth. The hard, slightly awkward rocking of his pelvis intensified the working of her fingers. Somehow knowing he would like it, she scissored her fingers wider and twisted them in half circle. Despite the grip she had on his base, he shoved the head of his cock nearly to her throat. “Damn it,” he said at the small uncomfortable sound she made. She didn’t mean for him to stop. She’d have recovered in a few seconds. She didn’t get a chance to convey that to him. He wrenched out of her without warning. Cloth snapped - her bikini top, she thought - because suddenly he’d twisted their bodies around in two directions and he was looming on top her. Before she could figure out how he’d done it, her wrists were trapped by his hands beside her head. His eyes burned furiously down at her, the blue-green drowning out the

gold with anger. Angry or not, he was so excited his cock was dripping precum on her belly. He seemed ready to do anything to her, as long as it involved getting off. Olivia abruptly understood why being dominated was arousing. “I’m sorry,” she panted, her pulse pattering in her throat. “I thought you were enjoying that.” He growled in answer, his teeth grinding. “God, Olivia. I can’t hide anything from you.” Apparently, he could, or she wouldn’t have been confused. “Do I need to apologize?” she asked unsurely. With another animal rumble, he crushed his mouth over hers. She didn’t think he’d ever kissed her like this. He was assertive, yes, but this kiss was meant to overwhelm. Before she had a chance to adjust, to let him know she accepted it, his knees butted hers open. His hips came down in the space he’d made, his body as hot as a barbecue. His grip tightened painfully on her wrists as he probed between her labia with his cock. He must not have wanted to release her hands. After a push or two he found her entrance, grunted into her mouth, then slung inside in one hard thrust. She was so wet, so hungry that all she felt at his roughness was relief. He gasped her name, tearing free of her mouth. That was all the pause she got before he started fucking her like a maniac. A second later, she was meeting him with abandon, her hips bucking up at his. They went at each other so hard it felt like they were fighting. “Yes,” she groaned, hitching up her knees and spreading her thighs wider. He shifted both her wrists into one big hand, then shoved the other under her bottom, controlling her thrusts to move her in better synch with him. She quivered so close to coming she knew she didn’t have much time to do what she still wanted. “Let go of my right hand,” she said, trying to tug it free. He shook his head and pumped into her harder. “Yes,” she insisted. “I’m your queen, and I’ll do to you what I please.” “Liv,” he said miserably. She didn’t care. She knew he wanted this. The next time she tugged, her hand flew free of his. She spit on two fingers, then decided three would be better. His breath grew choppy as he watched her. He closed his eyes and shuddered when she pushed all three into him. He loved it. That was clear from the way his spine arched and his expression grew dreamy. The fact that he’d wanted to hide how much he craved this sweetened her victory. She began to move her fingers inside of him. The look on his face grew truly beatific. “I’m fucking you,” she whispered, some demon genius taking control of her vocal chords. “I’m fucking you like a man.” “Oh God!” he cried. Suddenly, he was fucking her twice as hard, really slamming into her, as wild and desperate as if the only way to save both their souls was by coming in the next ten seconds. Maybe the rubber band did make it more difficult to ejaculate. He seemed like he was reaching for it hard and couldn’t quite get there. The

twisting of his facial muscles pushed more of her buttons than needed it. She started to go, and finally he did as well. She moved her fingers faster and was rewarded by a ragged shout of pleasure. The shout was only the beginning. His ejaculation gushed heat inside her as he strained to hold as deep as he could. She felt herself clamp around him, and that made them both come harder. The orgasm felt like pleasure was stabbing through her womb - no subtlety to it, just a hard-core explosion of sexual nerves. Olivia made a sound like she was sobbing. Maybe she was. Even though he’d come, James had started thrusting again, taking advantage before his cock softened. Helpless to stop her sex from reacting, she went over a second time. Half a dozen jabs more, and it was all over. “Jesus,” she gasped as he sagged down on her. She felt like a hurricane had blown through her, one that swept everything before it with a storm surge of ecstasy. When she tugged her fingers from James’s body, her hand and arm were shaking. He shivered, and she wasn’t certain it was with pleasure. “God, James. Did I hurt you?” He moaned, his sweaty face turning back and forth across the crook of her neck. “You -” He stopped for air. “You did that perfectly.” How did he know? Had he been finger fucked before? She’d been singularly inexperienced when they met in college, but she’d heard young men sometimes experimented, just like young women did. Maybe he hadn’t been fucked by fingers. Maybe he was comparing what she’d done to something else entirely. She pressed her lips to his temple, unable - or, she guessed, unwilling - to ask him to clarify. Did she want to hear his answer? He lifted his head and smiled softly down at her. For a second, she drank him in. He was never so beautiful as when he’d just climaxed. His eyes were brighter, his sensitive mouth relaxed. His thick dark lashes blinked lazily. “Olivia,” he said as if she’d done something to amuse him. “What?” she asked him defensively. “You’re organizing your thoughts again. Trying to force everything, immediately, to make a sense you’re comfortable with.” “It’s what I do.” He kissed her lips so gently her mouth might have been the holy grail. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you. Just let it be until tomorrow.” She searched his sleepy eyes. He seemed a little rueful, but not afraid. Whatever he was going to tell her, it wasn’t too terrible. The tension that had taken hold of her ribcage eased. “All right,” she surrendered. “Go ahead and enjoy your post-coital nap.” As he laid his cheek against her breast in his favorite spot, she felt him grinning.