Their Wayward Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 2) - Page 4

"Sleep now. I've got you. Brody and I will take care of you."

"I'm safe?" she asked, her voice soft.

Mason kissed the top of her head. "We'll let nothing happen to you."

Both of us watched her for a minute, her muscles going lax as she dipped into sleep. She was past any danger now and needed to warm up and rest.

"I heard a shot," I lowered my voice.

Mason lifted his gaze from the woman to meet mine. "She was riding a horse. Looks like the animal stepped in a hole, broke his leg. She was thrown. A snowdrift softened her fall. I had to put the animal down."

"How far from the house?"

He shook his head, considering. "One hundred meters, maybe further. I couldn't see anything out there to know. I followed my tracks back."

"I wonder where she came from, and why the bloody hell was she out in this?" I looked down at her. Long lashes fanned across her pale cheeks.

"We'll have plenty of time to find the answers. The way this storm is blowing, she's not going anywhere for awhile."

"She's not going anywhere. Ever. Agreed?"

Mason nodded. "Agreed."

LAUREL

Curled warmly on my side, I was reluctant to wake up. Miserable as I'd been gripping the reins of the horse, I'd been correct to fall asleep. The coldness was gone. My fingers and toes were no longer numb. Snow and wind weren't stinging my cheeks. My clothes were no longer wet. In fact, I was no longer wearing clothes. Then why was I so warm? Something hard pressed against my back while something warm touched my front.

I stretched and bumped into a solid, very warm, slightly hairy—

My eyes flew open and there, just a few inches from my face was a man. Blond hair that was a few months past a haircut, blue eyes, full lips.

"Oh!" I gasped and backed away and as I rolled over was surprised to find myself face-to-face with another man. My heart leapt into my throat. "Oh!"

Men surrounded me! It all came rushing back. Falling in the snow, being carried inside, men talking to me, taking off my wet clothes, warming me. I remember the whiskey, the hot blanket and being held. I'd felt safe in the man's arms, so warm and comforted. They had been concerned and focused solely on warming me up. They'd been...kind and protective.

"It's all right, you're safe." The man I now faced had short black hair, a neatly trimmed beard and equally dark eyes. His voice was deep, yet the tone soothing. And he was in my bed.

"We won't hurt you," the other man said. I turned to look over my shoulder at him. "Do you remember us from last night?" He held my gaze and I nodded. They spoke with unusual accents, nothing normally heard in the area. No one I'd ever met. I didn't notice this the night before, but I wasn't completely coherent.

I couldn't stay here. I needed to get up, to get away. This was not proper, being in bed—naked—with two strange men!

I sat up, both men lying on their sides facing me. My movement exposed the expanse of their broad shoulders, naked chests, and muscular arms. Tugging the sheet and quilt over my breasts to keep my modesty did nothing to cover my back. I felt cool air on my skin and watched as their gazes lowered.

"Oh!" I moved to my knees and tried to crawl from the bed between them, only to quickly realize two things simultaneously. The first was that they held the bedding securely, keeping me from moving. The second was that I was showing them my bottom, and if they could see that, they could see my womanhood.

I could have climbed from the bed naked, but realized if I did I’d have nothing to cover my nakedness. I could not run out of the room as I was. So I had no choice by to lie down once again, tugging the quilt up beneath my chin with a little squeal. I decided to try and talk my way out of this unseemly situation.

I needed to stay in the bed to keep my virtue. They needed to leave. I told them so.

"No." The blond one shook his head slowly. His eyes were heavy lidded and his cheeks had taken on a ruddy color. "You were half frozen when Mason found you. Nearly dead. We warmed you and watched over you all night." His voice was rough as he stared at me. No, he was staring at my lips.

"We need to ensure you are well, for you fell asleep on us." The dark haired one propped his head up on his elbow and looked down at me, the quilt not covering his body as much as it did mine. A smattering of dark hair covered his chest and I wondered if it would be soft to the touch. It narrowed and tapered into a line that went to his navel before being covered up. "Did you hit your head when you fell? Do you have pain anywhere? Your fingers and toes, are they numb?"

Realizing my eyes were wandering inappropriately, I lifted my gaze to meet his. "I am quite well now, thank you. No damage done,"

I replied, trying to distract him from my actions.

It didn't work. He smiled very knowingly. I'd been caught. My cheeks flushed hotly. Instead of being cold, I was overly warm. These men were like cast iron stoves, ample heat radiating off of them. The quilt was becoming too much, but I could not lower it.

Tags: Vanessa Vale Bridgewater Ménage Erotic
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