A healthy

Anne’d only taken a few steps before she saw the back side of the lodge through the trees. She decided to go that way first—just in case Brad or Cain was there. Brad was behind the bar making margaritas for Fred and Suni, but there was no sign of Cain.

“Hey, Anne. You’re back!”

“Hi, Brad. Those margaritas look so good.” She slowly parked her butt on one of the stools at the bar. Her legs were really sore from all the hiking.

“Trust me, they are,” Suni said. “Did you have fun on the hike?”

“It was terrific, though my muscles might disagree. You’ll have to ask Darnell about the day’s activities. Ronan and Wils are better than any cruise directors for making things fun.”

Brad set the drinks on the counter for Suni and Fred. After they each took theirs and left, Brad smiled at Anne. “Would you like one?”

Regretfully, Anne shook her head. “I’d love one, but I need to go and get a shower. I stopped by on the way to my cabin because I wondered if Cain had checked on the pups today, if they were doing okay.”

“He’s there now. I’m sure we’ll get an update later this evening.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner, then.”

Before she could step down from the stool, Brad said, “Hang on a minute,” and turned back to the blender. In mere seconds he was pouring a fresh margarita into a broad glass with salt coating the rim. “It’s plastic,” he said, tapping the side of the glass. “Shower proof. Can you think of anything more decadent than a cold margarita and a hot shower?”

She laughed as she took the drink, then took a sip and stared at him over the salted rim of the glass. “Delicious. And yes, Brad, I can. It would be a lot more decadent if you were sharing the shower and the margarita with me.” The second the words left her mouth, she knew she had to be fire-engine red. She never talked like that, flirted that openly.

But Brad didn’t seem to mind at all. His eyes lit up and the look he gave Anne curled her toes. “I have to agree with you on that one,” he said. Then he leaned close, tipped her chin up with his fingertips, and gave her a kiss that included the sweep of his tongue against hers.

“Go, Anne. Leave the door unlocked. If I can get away, I’ll come join you.”

* * *

She left the door unlocked, but she didn’t really expect him. It didn’t matter. Not really. She had her fantasies and her margarita, but she’d set the drink aside and was rinsing conditioner out of her hair when she heard the shower door click.

“Don’t be frightened. It’s just me.” Warm hands caressed her shoulders, warmer lips found the side of her neck, and she shivered, though she couldn’t blame it on the air temperature—that had to be rising from the heat coming off Brad’s body.

She kept her eyes closed as Brad caressed her and the water beat against her neck and back. He cupped her full breasts and she moaned when he teased the tips of each one with his tongue and teeth. Then he pulled her close and hugged her, resting his cheek against her wet hair.

She sucked in a quick breath at the heat of his erection pressing against her belly. He was huge and so hot it felt as if he branded her.

“I’ll wait for you in the other room.”

She hadn’t opened her eyes, hadn’t said a word, but he was gone.

She finished rinsing herself and then turned off the water with shaking hands. She hadn’t brought her nightgown into the bathroom, so she wrapped a big towel around herself and walked out into the main room.

Brad lay on her bed, all sprawled out and relaxed, with a big smile on his face and very little else. The workout shorts he wore didn’t hide much at all. His chest was all hard planes and ridges, and she wanted nothing more than to run her hands across his flat stomach. But it was the blatant arousal tenting his shorts that took Anne’s breath. She sucked in a sharp gasp.

“Sorry,” he said. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

When Anne didn’t say anything—catching her breath took all her concentration—he curled easily into a sitting position and patted the bed beside him. “Sit down, Anne. Talk to me. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want or aren’t comfortable with. I will never do anything without your full consent. Are we clear on that?”

She nodded and took a big swallow of her margarita. The ice was mostly melted, the salt all gone, but thank goodness there was still enough tequila in the glass to burn all the way down.

It reminded her she was way too sober for this. Whatever this was.

But she liked Brad. A lot. He wasn’t just a really nice guy—he was totally hot, his muscles rippling under satiny skin, the shadow of his beard this late in the day so sexy she wanted to stroke his cheek and nibble along his jawline. Instead, she sat.

On the edge of the mattress, as far from him as she could get.

He reached over and took her empty glass out of her hand and set it on the table beside the bed. Then he patted the covers beside him. “Move closer?”

She really couldn’t find her voice, but she nodded. Closer was okay. She could do closer.

She scooted over, careful to keep the towel wrapped tightly around her breasts, covering her belly and her hips and thighs. Thank goodness it was a big towel.

“You did invite me here, remember?”

She nodded. Felt her skin flush, knew she was beet red. She didn’t trust herself to talk.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve been thinking of you since you crawled out of that car yesterday, all sweet and sexy and rumpled from your long trip?”

This time she shook her head. How could anyone think she looked sexy when they’d gotten here? She’d been dirty and sweaty, her hair in tangles from driving with the window open, her clothes all wrinkled.

He laughed. “I know what you’re thinking, that you were travel worn and I must have a screw loose, but you were—you are—the sexiest woman I’ve seen in so long. That’s mainly why I’m here, so I could tell you that. Well, plus I wanted to see that luscious body of yours. I can’t stay long—I have to go get some things ready for dinner to feed all of you starving women and your voracious appetites.”

She smiled at that, at the thought that there were only men seeing to their every need. Brad merely traced the line of her jaw with one finger.

“I hope you realize I’m living proof that, yes, men can cook.”

She bit her lips to keep from laughing. He made her feel so good, all warm and tingly, and it wasn’t all about sex. It was about being happy as much as anything.

She hadn’t really thought of that. Brad made her happy, mainly because he was. She turned to him and ran her fingers through his thick hair. “I think you’re living proof that men can do a lot of things.”

He shot her a sexy grin. “That’s good to know. Does that mean you’ll let me kiss you?”

Shrugging, she smiled and said, “I haven’t stopped you before, have I?”

“No,” he said. “You certainly haven’t.”

She bit her lips to keep from laughing, but Brad grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto his lap, moving so quickly she didn’t have time to come up with a reason for him not to pick her up as if she weighed nothing at all.

And wasn’t that a nice surprise … he was definitely strong, and he made her feel so—well, not small. She would never think of herself as small, but he made her feel feminine. Desirable.

His big arms came around her, large, warm hands stroking her bare back above the damp towel. Her breasts, while covered in the towel, were pressed against his broad chest, while his lips covered hers in the sweetest of kisses. He nibbled at her mouth and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she parted for him.

He deepened the kiss until “sweet” wasn’t the word that came to mind at all. His tongue tangled with hers, his lips moved over her lips, but his hands … his hands had somehow slipped beneath the towel to stroke her naked back, and it was all so amazing, the pressure of his mouth, the sensual delight of his big hands roaming the length of her spine, stroking the flare of her hips.

Her breathing grew labored and so did Brad’s. She felt the thick length of his erection against her hip and didn’t complain at all when he lifted her once again, turning her so that she straddled his lap and that thick length rode between her legs, the soft fabric of his shorts hiding nothing as they connected beneath the rumpled towel.

He growled—that was the only sound she could compare it to—and tugged the thick towel from between them, freeing her breasts, her whole body, to his gaze. When she was entirely bare, he groaned, lifting her breasts, one in each hand, palming the fullness of them, pinching her tender nipples until Anne was the one moaning.

Not from the pain—this was the sweetest pain she’d ever known. She felt each pinch like a bolt of lightning streaking from her nipples to her clit. Brad dipped his head and took one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, using his tongue and teeth, while he continued pinching and kneading her other breast, driving her higher, further, than any man had taken her before.

She wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t experienced, either. Even so, what Brad was doing, what he made her feel, was so incredible she didn’t want him to stop.

He lifted her again and she thought he might push his shorts down and enter her, but they weren’t using any protection and she had a moment of regret that they’d have to stop.

Except he laid her on the bed with her legs over the edge, and then he knelt on that small braided rug, gently pried her legs apart, and merely gazed at her for what felt like a very long time.

She pushed herself to a sitting position and he glanced up and grinned at her.

“Dinner might be a few minutes late tonight,” he said. “I’m starting with my appetizer.”

She was trembling when he leaned close and kissed her with lips already damp from their kisses. Trembling so hard her arms wouldn’t hold her like this, she lay down on the bed with a soft whimper of absolute pleasure and complete surrender.

He slipped his hands beneath her and lifted her closer to his mouth.

Used his tongue and teeth the way he had when he’d kissed her mouth, except now he was licking between those nether lips, using his tongue to circle her clit in a steady swirl that took her so close to the edge that she bucked her hips. His fingers tightened on her butt and she wanted him inside her, wanted to feel the full, hard thrust of him, his solid weight over her.

Instead, he used his tongue and then his fingers, slipping his hands from her bottom, pinching her nipple with one set of fingers, while thrusting two fingers deep inside her.

The sensations rocked her from her breasts to her crotch, spread to her fingers and toes. She cried out and arched against his mouth, flying apart in a most spectacular explosion of sensations. Totally caught in her climax yet so aware of Brad, of his strength, of his flawless touch as he laved between her legs with the flat of his tongue, licking the fluids of her release.

She heard his deep groan, felt the tight clasp of his fingers on her as her body finally began to relax from the taut spasm of her climax. She should have been embarrassed—she’d never before put on a show like that for any man, but then, no other man had ever done this to her before. She lay there gasping for breath while Brad eased her down. Then he crawled up over her naked body until she felt the damp press of his erection between her legs.

She opened her eyes and he was right there, smiling at her, those dark brown eyes twinkling.

“I have to go,” he said. Then he blushed.

“I wish you could stay. I mean, that was just … but you didn’t—”

His blush went even deeper. “Actually,” he said. “I did.”

Anne frowned. He still had his shorts on. She was the only one who had climaxed.

Wasn’t she?

“I need to go back to my cabin and get a quick shower so I can go to the lodge and take care of the last-minute details for dinner.” He kissed her and then pushed himself away from the bed. Away from Anne. And when he stood, there was a decidedly dark stain on the front of his shorts.

He was still red in the face when he turned and walked into the bathroom. Anne sat up and wrapped the towel around herself and then finger-combed her damp hair. She heard the water running, and a few minutes later Brad walked back into the room. He’d rinsed his shorts off and now, at least, the wet cotton was all the same color.

He walked up to Anne, put his arms around her, and kissed her. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “that was a first for me. I have never, not once, come all over myself while making a woman orgasm.” He kissed her again. “Now, when I tell you that you’re hot and you turn me on, will you stop arguing with me?”

She had no words, not one, so she dumbly nodded as Brad kissed her once again and opened the door.

He paused there for a moment. “I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you tonight. Don’t make plans, okay?”

She stared at him, still shaken from her climax. From the knowledge of his. “Okay.”

He shut the door and just like that he was gone. Anne stood there for a full minute, staring at the closed door, thinking of how he’d made her feel. Smiling over what she’d made him feel. It might have been a first for him, but it was definitely a first for her.

A truly handsome guy, the sexiest guy she’d ever met, lost control because of her. Oh. My. She sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed.

It was a long time before she stopped laughing.

And then she wondered what kind of surprise he had for her tonight.

CHAPTER 7

Anne watched the small group sitting together at one end of the long table and wondered if she’d ever wipe the smile off her face. Steph was next to Wils, Christa had latched on to Ronan, and Brad hadn’t left Anne’s side all evening. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, Cain walked in, grabbed a couple of plates at the buffet, loaded them with enough food for at least four people, and sat on Anne’s opposite side.

The moment he sat, she turned, practically bouncing in her seat, and asked, “How are the pups? Are they okay? Is the mother okay?”

Cain paused, his fork filled with grilled salmon almost to his mouth. “Great, yes, and yes, and I’m starving. Give me a minute!”

Anne sat back, laughing, as he neatly shoveled in salmon and rice, roast beef and potatoes, a couple of pieces of French bread, and an entire plate of Caesar salad. Conversation went on around them as before, though Anne was fascinated that a man as trim and slim as Cain could polish off so much food in such a hurry—and still manage to do it with impeccable manners.

Finally, he pushed his plates away and sat back. “Okay, Anne. Barring any unseemly belching, I can now give you an update.” He glanced toward Brad and both of them burst out laughing. “Hey,” Cain said, giving Brad and Anne a look that said he was being terribly misunderstood and mistreated. “While you, Anne, were out hiking through the woods with Wils and Ronan, with bounteous lunches, I’m sure, and Brad was here cooking and nibbling as he worked, I was watching over mama wolf and her pups. I haven’t eaten since around six this morning.”

Brad held up both hands. “Did I say anything?”

Anne shook her head and looked at Brad. “No, you didn’t, but in defense of poor, mistreated Cain, here, I bet you were thinking of something horrible.” Then she turned toward Cain. “Okay, Cain. I defended you. Now I want to hear everything.”

“Well…” He grinned and then carefully wiped his mouth with his napkin, making Anne wait even after she’d so graciously defended him. She was ready to throttle him.

“The pups are really healthy and strong in spite of the fact that they were born so late in the year. Generally, the mothers give birth in early spring, and it’s almost June. The pack is healthy, so I imagine these little guys will do fine. The male brought Mama a couple of rabbits today, and she appears to have plenty of milk. The deer herd looks healthy, so there should be more than enough game for the pack next winter.”

As they talked, the dining room emptied out, until it was just the three of them. Christa and Ronan had left early with Steph and Wils. Another big, sexy guy named Evan had arrived and proceeded to put all the food away and clean up the dishes. When he left, Darnell went with him. Suni and Fred had grabbed a bottle of wine and the two of them left with Trak, each woman holding one of his hands. He’d winked at Brad and said they’d be in Fred’s cabin if anyone needed him.

“Be sure and knock first,” he’d drawled as the girls dragged him out the door.

Which left Anne here in the lodge, alone with two very hot men. Brad smiled at her. She read it as a smile that promised all sorts of things.

She just wished she had an idea what they were.

Brad stood and held out his hand for her. “Remember I told you I had something for you?”

Like she’d forget anything he said? Anne nodded.

“Tonight, you get Cain.”

“What?” Anne glanced from Brad to Cain and back at Brad. “What do you mean?”

“He’s teasing you, Anne.” Cain stood and held out his hand. “Though you’re more than welcome to me, should you be interested.” He wriggled his eyebrows and then laughed. “Actually, Brad asked me to give you a massage tonight. He thought you might be sore after hiking up to Blackbird Lake. I’m the official masseur for Feral Passions, and tonight, gorgeous girl, now that I’m no longer starving, I will be at your service.”

“Oh. Wow…” She glanced at Brad and then at Cain and thought of what she and Brad had done earlier. She’d kind of hoped they’d continue on with that bit of entertainment, though a massage sounded really good. But Cain … he was just … wow. He was Brad’s polar opposite in looks and demeanor but still way too sexy for her own good. Shaggy, sun-bleached hair curled over his collar that occasionally flopped into his eyes, a few days’ growth of beard, a body just as toned and ripped as Brad’s, though lean and rangy where Brad was solid muscle.

But what really made all of her inner muscles clench, what made him uniquely Cain, was an indefinable bad-boy vibe. It wasn’t in anything he said or did—it just existed. Whether it was the loose-limbed swagger when he walked or the way his eyes were always moving, checking out his surroundings, he carried the vibe that he’d be a dangerous man to cross.

And an exceptionally bad boy in bed—in a very good way. She sucked in a breath and said, “Okay. Where?”

He had the sexiest smile. “Your cabin. I’ll go and get my equipment out of the office. The table’s on your front porch. I dropped it off before I came to dinner, so it’s ready to go. Why don’t you and Brad meet me there? I’ll be about five minutes behind you, okay?”

“Go ahead and turn out the lights when you leave,” Brad said. He glanced at Anne and she could have sworn she felt him touching her just from the heat in his dark-eyed gaze. “I’m not planning to come back here tonight.”

“Gotcha.” Cain winked. “See ya in a bit.”

Anne barely remembered the walk to her cabin. Brad was beside her, holding her hand, Cain was on his way over. To give her a massage. With Brad there? She hadn’t thought about that, about what it would be like to be on a massage table, barely covered in a towel, with two sexy men in the same room.

One of them would be touching her. The other already had, and she couldn’t get that touching out of her mind. Her bra felt tighter; her nipples were taut little points growing more and more sensitive the closer they got to her cabin, until she felt as if they were two charged contacts channeling sexual energy directly to her clit.

She almost laughed when she realized how much she’d been thinking about sex all day.

Amazing what associating with sexy men could do to a girl’s libido.

There was a big black case with a handle on top sitting on Anne’s front porch. She went to help Brad take it inside, but after trying to lift one end she quickly gave up. “This thing weighs a ton. How did Cain get it here by himself?” Anne opened the door and reached for it again.

Brad waved her off. “It’s all in how you lift it. Why don’t you turn the light on and move your poor little feminine self out of the way.”

“Oh, you are so asking for it.” She laughed and then did exactly that. Brad grabbed the handle, picked the table up, and carried it inside. The only sign it was any kind of effort for him was the delicious bulge of his muscles.

He set the case in the open space between the bed and the kitchenette and opened it. More opportunity to watch his muscles flex. Anne didn’t think she could ever grow tired of watching him move. He was so comfortable with his body that he didn’t seem the least bit awkward in the worn jeans that rode low on his hips and cupped his package in a perfectly praiseworthy manner. His faded T-shirt stretched so tightly, it molded his muscular chest as if he’d painted it on.

It was at that point, while admiring said package and chest, Anne realized that after a little over twenty-four hours at Feral Passions she wasn’t even thinking of her own clothing or even her weight. It was a shocking revelation, since they were both issues that generally occupied a large portion of her frontal lobe when she wasn’t stressing out over other stuff that was just as inconsequential in the overall scheme of things.

Obviously, her newfound change in focus was going to require some thought. Later.

A couple of quick flips and Brad had the table set up in the only open space in the small cabin, which made the cabin seem infinitely smaller. What had reminded her of an old folding cot her dad took camping was now a comfortable-looking massage table with a beautiful leather cover and a form-fitting attachment at one end with a hole for her face.

Cain knocked on the door as Brad was locking the table legs in place.

“You timed that right,” Anne said. She held the door open for him and Cain walked in with two large tote bags. “Brad just got the table set up.”

“That’s good.” He set the bags down. “Okay, Anne, before you get to take off your clothes and turn yourself over to my magic touch, I want you to set some candles out around the room. There are half a dozen of them—find places that feel right to you.”

“Feel right?” Anne took the basket filled with candles he handed to her. “I didn’t picture you as the New Age sort, Cain.”

He laughed. “I’m not, really, but I do know that candlelight is relaxing, and these have a mild vanilla scent that can calm anyone.”

“Thank goodness it’s not lavender.” Anne took the basket and walked into the kitchen area to place the first candle. Anything to keep her from thinking about Cain’s words. The ones about taking off her clothes. “Everyone says lavender’s supposed to remove stress,” she said, “All it does is make me sneeze.”

“I’m glad I left the lavender at home.” Cain pulled out a soft white flannel sheet and covered the massage table with it while Anne hunted for places for the candles. One in the kitchenette on the granite counter, another went on the table beside the bed. She put one on top of the armoire and another on the little table in the opposite corner. There was a good spot on the bookshelf in front of the window—she hadn’t even had time to look at the books in it yet—and the last one went on the bathroom counter in front of the mirror.

Cain was setting up what looked like a fancy TV tray for his lotions and oils. Anne shivered. He was so capable looking, and it was obvious from his practiced moves that he did this sort of thing a lot. She’d had exactly one massage in her life—from a very nice lady—when Christa gave her a certificate for a massage for her twenty-fifth birthday over three years ago.

That masseuse was nothing like Cain, who was as masculine and sexy as Brad, who had taken his shoes off and sprawled on the bed as if he was already planning to spend the night.

The moment that thought flashed into her mind, the muscles between her legs did an involuntary clench and ripple that took her breath. Thinking about how sexy these two looked had her body taking control.

She was still trying to process the sensation when Cain walked across the room and handed a glass of red wine to her. He’d pulled out a cold beer for Brad and one for himself and raised the bottle in a toast. “Anne, to you and your week here at Feral Passions.” He raised an eyebrow and added, “And to new experiences.”

She clinked her wineglass against Cain’s bottle and Brad’s, and sipped thoughtfully, tasting the wine, thinking of the day she’d had. Wondering what these two had planned and what those “new experiences” might entail.

“Tell me about your hike,” Cain said. He led her to one of the chairs at the small table in the corner, seated her as if they were out on a date, and then took the chair across from her. Brad stayed on the bed, but the cabin was so small, he was almost close enough to touch.

“It was so much fun!” She’d had a fabulous time with her sister and Steph, and Darnell had kept them in hysterics. She was funny and so very “L.A. Hollywood” that they’d really enjoyed her stories and sense of humor. “We hiked for what felt like forever, but it wasn’t, obviously. We’re just out of shape.”

“Which is why I’m here. But finish your wine first.”

She made a face at Cain. “Yes, master.” And took a swallow of her wine.

“I think I like that,” he said. “‘Master’ works.”

“In your dreams, sweetheart. Anyway we got up to Blackbird Lake and it’s so pretty and peaceful. We saw a couple of wolves along the way. One even trotted alongside us for a bit. Darnell was so excited she could barely even talk, but we got to the lake and had our lunch under a huge tree. There were wood ducks in the water, and their colors are so amazing they don’t even look real. I’d never seen one before. Ronan and Wils are really fun and they finally convinced us we should all go skinny-dipping.”

“Oh, they did, did they?” Brad appeared to have suddenly grown interested in her story. He got off the bed and took the third chair at the table. “And of course they didn’t look when you girls all stripped down, right?”

Anne almost choked on her wine. “Are you kidding? We told them we’d only do it if they’d strip down first. So they did, and we had to.” She laughed. “It wasn’t all that hard to convince us by then. It was hot, we were all dusty, and that lake is unbelievably clear. It’s also damned cold, if you want the truth.”

Cain stared past Anne at Brad. “And we all know what happens to a man’s equipment in cold water, right, Brad?”

“C’mon. I got a good look before they got wet.” Anne took another sip of her wine. She’d had plenty to drink at dinner, and this glass was already relaxing her. “Ronan and Wils are extremely well-endowed. They did not suffer any embarrassment from the cold water. In fact, I would say it appeared to invigorate them.”

Both Cain and Brad laughed hysterically, for whatever reason. Anne looked at her wineglass. She was definitely relaxed, and whatever they found funny had obviously gone right over her head. She tipped the glass to her mouth and emptied it in one big swallow.

Cain added a bit more. “Are you ready for me to work my magic?”

She blinked. Already? “I guess. What do you want me to do?”

“Not a thing. I’m doing it all, with Brad’s help. He’s my minion for the night.”

Anne glanced at Brad. “You don’t look like a minion. They’re little and yellow and have one eyeball in the—”

“I’m a Feral Passions minion. Trust me.” He laughed. Then he shoved his chair back and pulled a large white towel out of Cain’s tote bag. “Come with me.” He crooked his little finger, and like a puppet on strings, Anne grabbed her glass and followed him into the bathroom.

She finished her wine while Brad first turned off the light and then slipped her sandals off her feet. The tiny candle reflecting in the mirror over the sink filled the room with a soft glow. She set the glass aside so he could help her out of her dress, touching and kissing, even licking her nipples once he’d unhooked her bra.

She thought of asking Cain to go home so she could just spend the evening with Brad, but she figured that would be rude. Brad sucked on her nipple. She whimpered.

Next he slipped her panties down over her hips, but it wasn’t until he’d wrapped her in the soft towel that Anne realized he’d just seen her completely naked and she hadn’t even blushed.

She glanced at the empty wineglass. It was probably a good thing Cain had brought the bottle with him, because she definitely wanted—and needed—to be relaxed.

One more kiss from Brad, and he opened the bathroom door.

CHAPTER 8

Brad kissed her again as they stepped into the main room. Cain had turned out the lights, leaving only the flickering candlelight. Forest sounds played in the background—the soft swish of wind, an owl hooting, and for a moment the haunting cries of wolves howling.

It reminded Anne so much of her dreams last night, she broke out in chills.

“Are you cold?” Brad wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

She shook her head, unwilling to speak. How could Cain possibly have known to duplicate her night of amazing dreams? It was almost as if he’d read her mind.

Or had been there with her.

Impossible. It was just an amazing coincidence. It had to be.

Cain waited patiently beside the table, bare chested now, still wearing the pair of black sweats he’d had on when he arrived. They hung low on his hips, soft and clinging, faded almost gray. His feet were bare.

Candlelight sent a soft glow across Cain’s chest while shadows emphasized the beautiful musculature of his upper body. Where Brad’s chest was mostly smooth, Cain had a dusting of dark blond hair that caught the flickering light. She stared at the line of hair trailing down from his navel, leading her imagination beneath the waistband of his sweats.

Then Brad took her hand and her concentration shifted as he walked her over to the table and helped her lie down on the soft flannel sheet covering the leather. She’d never felt so aware of textures before—his hands were rough and callused, the flannel so soft it felt almost silky. The air in the cabin was warm, drifting over her bare shoulders. Anne lay on her stomach with her face cushioned in the ring at the end of the table.

She closed her eyes. One of the guys—Cain, she thought—twisted her long hair into a knot and pulled it forward so that it hung over the end of the table. She scooted around a bit to make herself more comfortable as Brad gently tugged the towel out from under her.

She was naked with two men looking at her. If this had happened with anyone else, she would have been freaking out, blushing multiple shades of red, and trying to cover herself.

But not with these two. For whatever reason, she trusted them. Completely.

Instead of feeling humiliated and embarrassed, she listened as Cain whispered to Brad. “She’s even more beautiful than you said.”

“She is, isn’t she? I think she’s absolutely perfect.”

Had they really said that? Or was she just hoping they had? Probably wishful thinking. She’d had a lifetime of doing that, and tonight? Everything had taken on a dream-like quality. The illusion of fantasy was a powerful aphrodisiac, and with the cushion that supported her face deadening the sound just enough to give their voices a faraway, almost mystical quality, it was so easy to relax and just let whatever happened, happen.

“I’m warming the oil with my hands, Cheraza, but please let me know if it’s too cool for you.”

“Hmmm.” She loved the way he said her name. She rarely heard it. She’d been Anne since before she could remember.

Cain’s hands were slick with the scented oil. More vanilla, but subtle. He was right—the vanilla was soothing even as her skin shivered beneath his sensual touch. She wondered where Brad was, if he was watching while Cain touched her.

Would that bother him? She and Brad had been as close to intimate last night as two people could be without actually having sex, and now Cain was touching her, his hands working the knots in her shoulders and the sore muscles in her calves and … no. Two sets of hands. Brad was obviously helping. She sighed and relaxed even more as both men made magic happen to her tired muscles. Drifting, she lost herself in the recorded forest sounds, the haunting cries of the wolves, the ultimate fantasy of two totally sexy men with their hands all over her.

She wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep or merely drifted under the sensual massage, but Cain leaned over and whispered in her ear that they were going to turn her, and it made her smile, picturing a big spatula flipping her over like a pancake, but she was really too limp and relaxed to care how they did what they did.

One minute she was lying on her stomach and the next she was on her back. She flashed on how exposed she was, her breasts and belly, even her sex, openly displayed, but the magic of Cain’s fingers massaging her scalp and Brad gently tugging and rubbing her toes and feet left her sighing and relaxed once again. This was even better. They’d found the rhythm of the forest sounds Cain was playing, moving in time with the wind in the trees and the soft hoot of an owl.

Cain’s massage moved lower, his fingers working along her jawline and then to her neck, while Brad had moved up along her legs to the muscles in her thighs. Quadriceps. That’s what those big muscles were called, and hers were really sore from today’s hike.

Brad was gentle, so very gentle, though it was hard to imagine that strong man with the big hands treating her this tenderly. But Cain was every bit as gentle, rubbing her arms, massaging her biceps and then her forearms.

She already felt like warm pudding, her body so relaxed and fluid she could almost imagine dripping off the massage table into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Not a pretty image, but at this point did it matter?

Cain finished her arms and she heard him reaching for the bottle of oil while Brad used his thumbs to ease the tension in her groin muscles. She’d been sore there this morning, probably from all the climbing uphill to the lake, and the smooth press of his thumbs and the palms of his hands had her sighing with pleasure.

Then Cain began massaging her hands, and she forgot everything else. Stretching her fingers, putting the perfect amount of pressure on her palms, working each finger individually—it was heaven. Absolute heaven.

After he finished her hands, he arranged her arms alongside her body, palms up. She really didn’t want this to end, but when Brad paused she knew the fantasy was over. She’d totally lost track of time and had no idea how long she’d been lying there.

Cain’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Cheraza, Brad and I would like to continue, but we want to ask your permission. Will you trust us enough to give you a more sensual massage? Our touch will be more intimate, and we don’t want you to hesitate to ask us to stop should you feel at all uncomfortable. Brad’s going to blindfold you if that’s okay. It might not sound like it, but the blindfold will help you relax.”

She didn’t have to consider his words at all. Two men she liked, one who’d already brought her to an absolutely mind-blowing orgasm with his hands and mouth? She’d obviously gotten past the fact that she was lying here naked in front of them, so yeah, she could get on board with more. Even so, she kept her eyes closed, easily re-entered her fantasy world, and nodded.

Brad slipped the blindfold over her eyes, and Cain was right. She relaxed even more.

She wasn’t ready to watch what they did. She only wanted to feel.

Cain kissed her forehead. She knew it was him because his short facial hair tickled. It was much softer than it looked and she really wanted to rub her face against his, but his kiss had been so quick, there hadn’t been time. The recording he’d been playing changed. The wild sounds were there, but the long, sad howls of the wolves were different, more upbeat, if that was at all possible, and there was a subtle but sure tempo behind the natural sounds. It had to be a drum, but it was timed precisely to the beat of her heart.

Or was her heart syncing to the beat of the drum?

At first, nothing felt different. The massage continued, though Cain and Brad’s pacing was smoother, as they worked in time to the steady tempo filling the background more with each passing moment. The sound had been muted earlier, but now it filled the room, a low thrumming that could have been blood flow or a beating heart. She felt the sound deep inside, a primal beat that turned her body liquid, warmed her inside and out.

Cain’s big hands cupped her breasts, and she thought of Brad’s touch last night, the way he’d pinched and tugged her nipples until she saw stars. Cain massaged her, though, almost as if he purposefully ignored her nipples. It took all her willpower not to arch into his warm hands.

Not to beg for more.

Cain moved to her right side and she sensed Brad at her left. The two of them stroked her from shoulders to toes, their hands slick with oil. Hands along the outside of each leg moved slowly inward, sliding gently over her calves, her sensitive inner thighs, following the crease between her thigh and groin.

She thought of them as if they were disembodied things—not Cain and Brad, but two powerful sets of masculine hands stroking her body in a graceful dance of sensation. They massaged her breasts, teased her nipples—stroking, brushing, and then gently pinching. She wanted more, wanted that pleasure-pain that transferred so easily to her clit, but they teased her until she was slowly writhing on the table.

Strong hands pinned her ankles, and she arched her back in frustrated response.

The tempo of the drums beat faster, the thrumming deeper, invading her bones. Her heartbeat leapt, racing to catch the drums, her body slowly twisting and arching in response to the seduction of touch. Strong fingers pinched her nipples harder; other disembodied fingers traced her labia, barely connecting with her greedy body as they circled her clit, driving her insane with featherlight touches that led her close to but not over that precipice of orgasm.

She sucked in a breath as a mouth covered hers. Brad’s lips. She recognized their fullness, the smooth upper lip where Cain’s was prickly from his moustache, the taste that was all Brad. His tongue thrust against hers as fingers drove deep between her legs and her inner muscles clamped down, clinging in spasmodic response to such an intimate invasion.

She was still on the edge, her body straining to reach the precipice, but they held her there—Brad with his deep kisses and his fingers working the nipple on her left breast while Cain’s fingers filled her sheath, his thumb circled her clit, and his other hand tugged at her sensitive nipple.

She tried to picture them, two powerful, sensual men pleasuring her while her body bucked and writhed beneath their expert touch, but the drums in the background hammered harder, faster, and her body followed, so close, so damned close, wiping everything else from her mind.

She sensed a shift in the air and the hands disappeared. Sensation fell away and she wanted to scream at the lack. The drums beat just as hard, pounded every bit as fast, and she lay there, alone and panting.

Lips pulled at one nipple; fingers plucked the other. She groaned and clutched the sides of the table to keep from arching right off the thing. Strong hands parted her thighs, holding her down, opening her wide. A tongue stroked from her perineum to her clit, circled that sensitive bud, and then drove deep.

Was it Brad? She couldn’t tell. Honestly? She didn’t care. All that really mattered was that he didn’t stop!

Mouth at her breast, mouth between her legs, and they worked together, sucking and licking, pinching and stroking as the tempo increased and the drums grew louder, as her heart raced and tiny lights flashed behind her blindfolded eyes.

Her body raced the drums and there was a thundering in her heart, in her blood, until the tongues stroking and hands touching coalesced into a single firestorm of need, of desire and sensation, and then it was too much, too perfect.

Too amazing to be possible, and yet she was flying, screaming out as wolves howled and drums thundered, her body tensed, her back arched, and she lost herself amid a climax unlike anything she’d ever known, a celebration of her body that shredded her soul and repaired it, better, stronger, more complete, than she’d ever been before.

Soft touches brought her down. Sweet kisses led her into a quiet pool of sensation where she needed only to relax, to let her mind and body melt away, suffused in pleasure, enervated, entirely complete.

* * *

Cain pulled the blankets back on Anne’s bed while Brad carefully wiped away the oil they’d rubbed over her body. She slept soundly, the culmination of a long day hiking, a good meal, spectacular wine, and the best sensual massage Cain knew he and Brad had ever given anyone. She was exactly the woman they wanted, and if she didn’t want them it was going to be tough to get over her.

He hardly knew her, and already she fit into his life—their lives—more comfortably than he could ever have imagined. Was one week going to be enough to convince her?

Brad carefully scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the clean sheet and Cain pulled the covers down so they could tuck her feet inside. The nights here could be cold. He moved toward the head of the bed and lightly worked the knot out of her hair.

The long, dark tresses felt like silk between his fingers. His eyes burned with the thought of not keeping her forever and he wiped away a tear he refused to let fall. Raising his head, he caught Brad watching him.

“Well?”

Brad whispered, but Cain clearly heard him. He shook his head. “I never imagined … Damn, Brad. She’s beautiful and smart and funny, and she loves wolves. It really couldn’t get any better. She’s almost too good. Scary good.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Cain. You’re starting to sound like Trak. He’s all about doom and gloom, though it’s nice not to have you teasing me about falling so hard and fast for her.”

Cain laughed softly. “Yeah. I take it all back. C’mon. Help me clean this stuff up so we can get out of here and get some sleep.”

They had the table folded up, the candles extinguished and stashed in their container, and all of Cain’s equipment ready to go. Brad stood by the bed for a moment, watching Anne sleep. “I don’t want to leave her,” he said.

“Help me carry this stuff back to the lodge.” Cain walked over to stand beside Brad. “I don’t think she’d mind a bit if the wolves spent the night.”

“Do you think it’s safe? What if she makes the connection? How will we explain how they got inside?”

Cain could tell Brad really wanted to believe it was okay. “We’ll just tell her we weren’t comfortable leaving her alone sleeping so soundly, the wolves were waiting for us outside, and we asked them to stay. I think it sounds believable.”

Brad’s soft laughter had Cain grinning in response. “Good,” he said. “Then if Trak gets pissed, I can blame you.” Brad picked up the massage table and waited by the open door.

“He blames me for anything bad that happens anyway.” Cain grabbed the tote bags. He took a quick look around the dark cabin, but his gaze lingered on Cheraza, sleeping so soundly.

They had a lot of mountains to climb with this one. Then he followed Brad out the door.

CHAPTER 9

Tuesday

She came awake in the early dawn darkness, blinking slowly, remembering. Cain’s powerful hands stroking so gently, Brad’s sweet kisses, his touch gentle when needed yet more than capable of so much strength. Both men treating her like spun glass one moment, like a powerful woman the next.

She’d never, not even in her wildest dreams or the sexiest romance she’d ever read, experienced anything remotely like last night. A massage like that had to be illegal, but it had definitely done the trick. Her muscles had been screaming after the hike yesterday. She didn’t feel sore anywhere this morning. Of course, she hadn’t tried to move anything, either.

She hadn’t slept as soundly in way too long. She felt totally rested, and since she didn’t remember coming to bed, her men had to have tucked her in.

The giveaway was the fact that she was naked.

She never slept naked, but how could it matter when they’d both spent hours touching her, kissing her, doing things she’d never imagined? She’d been naked, and she’d been fine with it. She was actually sorry the guys had been dressed. Next time she’d ask for a naked massage.

If there ever was a next time.

Naked or not, she was so toasty warm that she just closed her eyes again, lay there a moment, and tried to recall the details of last night. There’d been dinner with everyone at the lodge, and then Brad had walked her back to the cabin, Cain had arrived, and—

Her stomach clenched with remembered desire and she shivered. Aroused, chilled, she tried to hug herself, but her arms were trapped. In fact, the blankets were pulled over her so tightly that she couldn’t move at all. That’s when she heard soft snoring to her left … and her right. Had Cain and Brad stayed in her … 

Rolling her head to one side and then the other, she stared at the dark shadows on either side and bit back a laugh. That explained the snoring—and the warmth. It was hard to be cold with furry wolves pressed against each side of her, trapping her beneath the covers.

She recognized the two she thought of as “her” wolves. She tried to sit up, but they had her trapped so completely she couldn’t even scoot out from under the blankets.

It appeared she’d awakened her bedmates.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” The green-eyed beast raised his head and yawned, and his look was so disgruntled she almost apologized for waking him. The brown-eyed wolf merely raised his eyelids and stared at her, almost as if he was waiting to see what her reaction to waking up with two wolves in her bed would be.

She watched him, enjoying the moment. This was its own kind of magic, to wake up with two beautiful feral creatures lying on her bed, almost as if they protected her. She scratched behind the silver wolf’s ears and he groaned. Then she did the same for the brown-eyed guy, who rolled over on his back, obviously hoping for a tummy rub.

She managed to scoot up and out from under the blankets, which left her breasts exposed, but she figured that if she could show them to Brad and Cain, wolves weren’t a problem.

Rubbing one wolf’s head and now the other one’s belly, she watched the two of them for a moment, studying their reactions to her touch, the way they subtly interacted with each other. Finally, she asked, “How did you guys get in here last night? Did Brad and Cain let you in?”

The green-eyed wolf made a little huffing noise, rolled his head to one side, and stared at the door.

“That’s either a ‘yes’ or an ‘I want out.’ Either way, I think you boys need to go outside.” She tried to shove the blankets back, which wasn’t easy with wolves pinning them down. The wolves showed no inclination of moving. “Off the bed. Both of you.”

They both gazed at her as if they didn’t believe she meant it. “Now, gentlemen.”

This time they both jumped down, though the brown-eyed wolf looked so sad she almost gave in and let him stay. He certainly didn’t act like he wanted to leave. She walked across the room to the door, and even though the sun wasn’t up and there probably wasn’t anyone out there, she stood out of sight behind the door when she opened it. She’d never been comfortable under any circumstances parading around naked.

Though being naked certainly hadn’t been an issue last night. The two huge wolves slowly walked outside and then trotted down the steps. The brown-eyed wolf paused at the bottom and turned to look over his shoulder, and she felt as if her entire body flushed dark red from his intent look, which was just weird. She didn’t remember blushing all that much last night, but maybe that was because what she remembered was so far beyond embarrassment it made her shiver just thinking about it.

She quickly closed the door. She hadn’t expected that all those little muscles between her legs would clench in sympathy, and it was just so awkward with both wolves staring at her. She’d noticed the green-eyed wolf’s nose was twitching.

She’d been so turned on, remembering Brad and Cain last night, and the wolf was staring at her making sniffing noises?

“Anne, girl, you’ve read one too many paranormal romances.” In those stories, the shapeshifter could scent his mate’s arousal. Pure fantasy, and an active imagination could get a girl into trouble, except there was no denying the fact that the wolf had been watching her, his head raised with his nose in the air. Sniffing.

Could he smell her arousal? He was an animal, damn it, with a good nose, so even if he could smell her, it didn’t matter. She looked out the window. Both wolves had disappeared into the forest. She turned around and leaned against the door and tried to make sense of last night and this morning. Except the more she thought about it, the less sense anything made.

Brad and Cain were both highly intelligent, strikingly handsome men, and yet, for whatever reason, they’d focused on her. But why?

Please, she begged. Not like that other time, another guy who’d treated her like a goddess. And then he’d done something so cruel, so horrible to her, that she’d never been able to move past it. He’d seemed sincere, too, but it was ten years ago and guys grew up.

She couldn’t picture Cain and Brad being cruel.

The problem, though, was that she couldn’t understand why they were so damned nice, either. She wasn’t anything special—there were five other women here, any one of them prettier than her. Maybe caffeine would help. A healthy dose of caffeine pumping through her system always cleared her head. It was almost six. With any luck, Brad should have coffee ready by now. She thought about taking a shower first, but she’d showered before dinner last night and that oil that Cain used for her massage had left her skin feeling so soft—she loved the subtle scent of vanilla.

She wasn’t quite ready to wash that off.

Nor did she want to wash away the memory of Cain’s mouth on her, or Brad’s, either.

Or the best orgasm she’d ever experienced in all her twenty-eight years. Even better than the one Brad had given her before dinner.

Laughing, she went into the bathroom to wash up. Of course it was better—two incredible guys trumped one incredible guy every time.

* * *