Jenna Stewart
What's better than one hot man? Two!
What's better than one hot man? Two!
In 1875, Siobhan O'Ryan marries Micah, one of Boston's Berwick twins. Micah has charm, good looks, a nice nature, and money. Lots of money. Siobhan has seen two of her sisters suffer because one married for love and the other let their father select her husband. Siobhan will stake her future on her own practicality. Choosing Micah means she will be the belle of Boston.
Micah hates destroying Siobhan's dreams by telling her they must move to San Francisco, but it's that or be disinherited. Surprisingly, he falls in love with his new wife along the way and then discovers that his twin loves her too. Even more surprising is when Siobhan reveals that she would enjoy having both men in her bed. Just when they think nothing can destroy their freedom and happiness in wild California, visitors arrive from straitlaced Boston that threaten everything.
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Micah said he didn’t mind. Micah said he didn’t mind.
She repeated the mantra as she dressed for the opera. One of the many things she still didn’t know about her husband were his likes and dislikes about things like theatre, opera, and dance. Over breakfast, he suggested that as a break after their hard work, Andrew check and see if some sort of entertainment weren’t available. Andrew asked if she enjoyed opera, and Micah exclaimed that for God’s sake if they were planning to see “some tragic Italian melodrama” to do so while he was away.
In fact, while selecting her trousseau in New York, she had attended her first opera, Aida, in preparation for becoming a Berwick. She had loved the performance, so when Andrew sent word that they would attend a performance of Carmen that night, she’d been beside herself with excitement. They would dine after the performance, his note said. Alone. They would dine alone, and then come home alone. And then… Would they remain alone? What would the night bring?
“This necklace, I think, Ching Li,” she said, pointing to a simple gold chain with a ruby cabochon suspended from it. Smaller rubies dangled from her ears and encircled her wrist. Mai had outdone herself with the gown, a high-waisted design of black silk. Lace interwoven with slivers of cut glass covered the bodice and capped sleeves, making them sparkle in the candlelight. A sheath of black silk fell to the floor without further adornment.
Examining herself in the mirror, she smiled in approval. Serious Andrew would appreciate simplicity, whereas she would have worn color and a style with flair for Micah. The accountant and the artist. In some ways they were different as night and day. In others, they were as though one man, one soul.
“That’s perfect. Thank you. There’s no need to wait up tonight.”
Ching Li bowed. “Yes, Missy.”
Siobhan retrieved an envelope from a drawer in her dressing table and then stood. “And please do not wake me at the usual time tomorrow. I have no appointments until after noon. But you may take this contract to your friend. Like Mai, she’s a real talent. I think she will be a fine second seamstress.”
“Thank you. She will be very happy.” With another bow, she left the room.
“Time to face the lion,” she said out loud.
She walked down the stairs thinking Andrew might meet her at the foot.
“He hasn’t come down yet, ma’am.” Martin, the butler, stood in the entrance hall with her wrap in hand.
“Thank you, Martin. Would you be a dear and run up and tell him we will be late if he doesn’t hurry?”
“No need. Here I am.” Andrew came down the steps tightening his tie.
“Here, let me do that,” she said, when he came to a stop beside her. She reached up and straightened it, an intimate gesture not wasted on either of them.
She allowed Martin to help her with her wrap, and they descended the outside steps to the waiting carriage.
“Have you ever seen Carmen?” Andrew asked as they bumped over the streets.
“No, have you?”
“Once, in New York. I went with Mother while Micah went off to a museum.”
“You two are very unalike in some ways.”
“I suppose we are. Yet even in our differences we shared with each other. When he was really entranced, truly concentrating on a subject for a drawing, I always knew what it was—the shape and color of it—before he told me.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Conversely, when I struggled with a math problem, he discerned enough to help talk me through it.”
She stared out at the passing street scene, musing. “That must be strange, having someone know your mind almost as well as you do. I have three sisters and they’ve never come close to knowing who I am or what I want.”
“And what is that, Siobhan?” He said it softly.
She faced him squarely. “Security. I want to be safely secure, yet in control of my life.”
“Did you think marrying a Berwick would do that?”
“Yes.” He quirked his head. A flash of streetlight showed the interest in his eyes. She said, “One sister ran off and married for what she thought was love. The emotion didn’t keep him alive or give her money to live well. My next sister accepted my father’s wise decision of an older, wealthy man. He’d be steady, Father assured Anya. The filthy old man cornered me in a closet and tried for a kiss before they’d been married three days. So in the examples of my two sisters, I discovered that love doesn’t last and steadfastness can be faked. I prefer to live a good life in good style, but control my heart and mind, thank you.”
“Did you tell her?”
He didn’t need to elaborate. She knew what he meant. “I should have, I suppose.” She frowned and bit her bottom lip. “But there could be no annulment and they were leaving the next day for Atlanta. How could I make her unhappy in her choice before she had a chance to assert herself as a wife?”
He seemed amused at her rationalization. “And is she happy?”
No, she didn’t think so, not if a letter they’d received before she left for New York was any indication. She lifted one shoulder in question. “Who knows what happiness is?”
She stood and moved before him. He spread his knees so she could get closer. “You’re wrong, Micah, I don’t enjoy your fucking.”
For a moment he looked confused and then distraught.
“I love your fucking.” Warmth filled his gaze, and his nostrils flared. She traced his lips with her finger. “I crave it. I love the feeling of your cock in my pussy. I love the taste of my juice on your lips after you’ve kissed me down there. I love the fire we generate.”
“I love you, Siobhan.” He said it quietly.
The enormity of his words made her want to cry because she couldn’t return the sentiment. Love was not the purpose of their marriage, though it stunned her to realize how fond of Micah she had become, how she had already started to rely on his being there, whether to talk with, to share vistas, or to laugh. It frightened her sometimes when she thought of how much she enjoyed being with him.
He took her hand. That was all. But the tenderness with which he turned it and kissed her palm filled her eyes with tears.
He didn’t look up, keeping his gaze focused on her hand. Gently, he twisted her wedding ring around and around her finger. “I admit that I didn’t love you before we married. I didn’t know you. But this journey has allowed me that opportunity, and it’s changed everything.”
“Micah, I don’t know what to say.”
“Whatever good you might think of, do me a favor and say it with your body.”
Siobhan smiled. “That I can do.”
* * * *
How was it that Siobhan always seemed happy to welcome him into her body? Micah chose not to think that she just loved sex, for that might mean any man could make her pant with desire and come with a force that rivaled a nor’easter. He wanted to be special in that way.
He unlatched the bottom bunk and let it drop before caressing Siobhan’s lips with his own. As he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth and lightly nipped, she undid the buttons of her blouse. She no sooner had the last undone than he slid it off her shoulders and to the floor.
He loved handling her breasts, so full, so soft. More than a mouthful, more than a handful, they more than filled his dreams. Her nipples pebbled in his palms. She arched her back, letting him have all he could manage. He dropped his mouth to her neck where he suckled her tender skin with abandon.
Siobhan rubbed her palm up and down his erection through his trousers until he thought he’d explode. He unfastened the buttons at her waist and dropped her skirt to the floor. In no more than seconds, he yanked her shift over her head and pushed her serviceable bloomers over her hips and out of his way. Except for those she’d worn under her wedding dress, her intimate wear had been plain, white cotton, very different from her other clothing, which was delicate satin or silk, embroidered in exquisite detail. He enjoyed this fascinating dichotomy, and he smiled through his lust.
“Touch me, Micah.” Her whisper was hoarse and rough, revealing unquenched passion he never tired of hearing.
He swiped his fingers through her furrow, gratified when they slipped and slid in her juices.
“You’re so ready.”
“You’re not.”
He drew back to look at her. If he was any harder he’d be stone.
“You have on far too many clothes.”
“You’re right,” he said, smiling. “Give me just a minute.” In less time, he lay on the bunk naked. He held out his hand, and Siobhan came to him without hesitation.
Straddling his hips, she winked before cradling his pecker in her hands and fitting it to her pussy entrance. She teased him by taking in the head and then letting it pop out. Once, twice, three times she almost sank full force. That same number of times, cool air struck where he most wanted heat.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said, his jaw clenched with the effort it took not to grab her hips and assume control.
“I have one for you, too,” she said. She lifted her right breast and licked her own nipple. Fire rushed through his veins and straight to his cock.
“God, Siobhan, you don’t know what you do to me. But if you settle on me all the way, and lie on my chest, I’ll do something to make you feel amazing.”
Her eyes widened as though she wondered what he could possibly have up his sleeve. Then she spread wide her legs and took him in all the way. Waggling her butt to be sure he could extend no farther, she braced her hands on each side of his head and leaned in for a deep kiss, her tongue twisting with his, her mouth sliding over his until they fit. He thrust up. God, the way she makes me feel! Like I could rule heaven and Earth.
He ended the kiss, replacing his tongue in her mouth with his middle finger. “Wet it good.”
When she had sucked it thoroughly, he pulled it out and reached back to her ass. Spreading her saliva from his finger to her bum hole, he gently probed, stretching and pressing until she held his finger up to the first knuckle.
Siobhan moaned, trapped between his cock pressing her up and his finger pushing her down. The train jerked on the track, tossing them back and forth. The extra motion only added to their own thrusts and drives.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yes. Don’t stop, Micah.”
