Their Reckless Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 11)

“You’re claimed,” Emma clarified with a decisive nod. “Same thing. They’re keeping you. And as for proper…” She looked down at the men’s shirt I wore. “You don’t seem the type to be worried all that much about proper.”

My mouth fell open. “Keeping me?”

The idea made my heart race. I was wanted. Truly wanted if Hank and Charlie were keeping me. It made no sense though. This was all happening so fast, in less than a day. I didn’t even want to think about how they’d feel about me when they knew who I really was. But I wasn’t my family. Yes, I shared the same name, but I hadn’t robbed a bank. I hadn’t killed anyone, let alone hurt them. I wanted to be claimed or kept or married by a man. I hadn’t considered two men until now. And yet, the idea had merit. I felt things with them I never imagined. Not just the pleasure they wrung from my body, but safety. Comfort. I felt cherished. Wanted.

“Look at me! Like you said, I don’t even look very feminine. I don’t even own a dress.”

Laurel smiled, came by and patted my shoulder. “If Charlie’s licked your virgin asshole, then he’s seen you out of your clothes. Trust me, they all like their women better without clothes. They’d keep us naked if they could.”

The other women nodded their agreement.

I stared at them all, wide-eyed. Somehow, this was so much more than I’d expected. Never did I imagine I’d be talking about something so… so dark and intimate with a group of ladies. A passage from the Bible perhaps or even a recipe for peach pie. But being licked in such a place?

Hank and Charlie were so much more than I imagined. I didn’t want to be stuck with two bossy men. I had just shot two. “I met them earlier today. They couldn’t possibly—”

“We couldn’t possibly what?” Hank asked, coming in through the open back door. He had a little boy in his arms. Around three or so, he seemed thrilled to be carried. I noticed then he had Hank’s tin star pinned to his little shirt.

“Shewiff Hank made me depty!” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

With a ruffle to the top of his curly head, Hank set the boy down. The child ran to his mother, Ann, who gave him a kiss on top of his head. Seemingly content with that loving gesture, he ran back toward the door.

Charlie had entered as well, but stepped out of the boy’s path and grinned down as he dashed by. My heart rolled over at the sight of those two with the boy. Neither had blond hair, but I could imagine them with a child of their own. A boy with dark hair like Hank or red like Charlie. They’d teach him to shoot, to catch frogs, to be protective of baby sisters… fuck, I was dreaming too much. But they were good men. I knew it. I felt it. They would be good fathers. They definitely wouldn’t be like mine.

“What couldn’t we possibly want, sweetheart?” he’d asked again, not forgetting the question.

“You couldn’t possibly want to… to marry me.”

Hank’s open expression narrowed, focused on me. His jaw clenched. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest. “Why ever not?”

A laughed then. “Look at me.” I waved my hand toward the other women. “Look at them. Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Why are you?” Charlie countered. “We aren’t marrying you for your pants. Besides, you weren’t wearing them down by the creek.”

I flushed hotly, even though I’d been just speaking about what we’d been doing down by the creek.

He grinned. Winked.

“We claimed you,” Hank stated plainly, as if that explained it all.

“See?” Emma asked.

I didn’t look her way, but kept my gaze fixed on Hank.

“Yes, but I’m just here with you to—”

Charlie quirked a brow. “Just here to what?”

Hell and damnation. I couldn’t tell them the truth. “I just… I just met you and you’re talking marriage. It wasn’t like Charlie gave me any option to come here when he tossed me over his shoulder,” I grumbled.

The ladies chuckled, obviously not surprised by their stubbornness. I had to wonder how many of them had been carried about like a sack of potatoes by one of their men.

Hank grinned and came to stand beside me. He was so much taller and I had to tip my head back to look up at him. The way he looked at me, so different than earlier, made his features soften. Oh, his jaw was still square and sharp, his nose still long and straight, his brow prominent, but it was his dark eyes that now held… warmth. It made me soften just a little, too. “Sweetheart, you want it, too.”

I frowned, those soft edges gone. Not one to be told my mind, I countered, “I met you this morning.”

“Yes, but you want us enough to spread those thighs and let Charlie lick your pussy. I had my fingers inside you, felt your maidenhead that we’ll be taking later. You wouldn’t have let just anyone do that.”

I sputtered at his talk in front of the other women. “No, of course not.”