Read TheSmallPrint Online

Authors: Barbara Elsborg

TheSmallPrint (25 page)

Turner pushed himself to his feet and went back to the library. One last stab at trying to uncover Matty Hobsbawm’s secrets. It might distract him.

He called his lawyers and got an answer machine. Just as he was about to hang up in disgust, they gave a number for emergencies and he scribbled it down and then tapped the numbers into his phone.

“Dorling and Hynd. How can I help you?”

By the time Turner had explained who he was and why he was calling, the annoyance in the man’s voice had become unmistakable.

“This is not an emergency,” he kept repeating.

In the end, Turner gave up. He called the solicitors acting for the vendor, Jenkins and Stour, got their out-of-hours number, and once he’d introduced himself, Turner lied through his fangs.

“Sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I’ve a bit of problem. I’m being pestered about a young woman who used to live in Milford Hall. I’d like to call and warn her that this young man is desperate to see her. I presume the vendor Mr. Strachan is one of her relations. Would you be able to give me his number?”

There was a brief pause before the woman spoke. “I don’t think there would be any point.”

Turner gritted his teeth. He wanted to yell—just give me the fucking number—but didn’t. “Why not?”

“I didn’t deal with the sale but we talked about it in the office. Mr. Strachan was appointed by the court as a deputy to manage the personal welfare and property of his niece Ms. Hobsbawm.”

That didn’t sound good. “Why was that considered necessary?”

“I understand that his niece was injured several months ago in an accident. She’s never regained consciousness.”

Turner clenched the phone so hard he heard it crack. “That’s terrible,” he heard himself say. “Perhaps I should put this young man in touch with the hospital. Do you know…” He scribbled the details down and mumbled his thanks.

Oh God.
Turner had been convinced Matty was a ghost. He thought he’d almost convinced
her
she was a ghost, but he’d been wrong. Only he didn’t know how to react to the news that she wasn’t dead. Pleased she wasn’t a ghost, distressed she was in a coma? He still had no idea how to help her, no idea how to tell her. Turner shuddered. How the fuck could he tell her something like this? One thing was certain, he needed to be sure of his facts before he said anything.

Turner didn’t have time to drive on his own all the way to the hospital and back before sunrise, but he wanted to check that the comatose patient
was
Matty before he opened his mouth. If he took Catch with him, Turner could sleep in the converted trunk of his car while Catch drove as the sun came up, but Catch was otherwise occupied. And Turner was jealous. So was his cock. Would one night make a difference? Probably not. Hardly the average
coitus interruptus
. Why wreck their pleasure?

He pushed himself to his feet and trudged back up the stairs to his bedroom. Turner lay on his bed, but he couldn’t settle. One thing he hadn’t done yet was move his notes and files to a safe place. They wouldn’t mean much to anyone but him, but Turner didn’t want them to fall into Gabriel’s hands. He was supposed to just get the diaries.

All Turner’s scientific equipment was in storage in one of the garages. Before he’d moved, he’d pared down what he needed and packed it himself, hidden it with gym equipment. He wouldn’t be continuing with his experiments until there was no threat from Gabriel. Turner’s notes and files were in the closet. The last thing he wanted anyone to discover was that he’d been researching something they thought was made up—plant extracts that enabled vampires to go out in the sun. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t gotten anywhere. But plant development took years. For all he knew, success lay around the corner.

Picking up the bags of notes, Turner transported them to the swimming pool complex. He left the lights off and hid them in the boiler room beneath a folded tarpaulin. When he came out, he locked the door and stared at the pool glimmering in the moonlight. Maybe a splash of cold water would dampen his libido.

Turner shucked off his clothes and dived in. On his third turn, he saw Catch standing at the other end of the pool, and Turner stopped swimming and tread water. Naked, all long limbs and easy grace, Catch posed like some living statue, his broad shoulders tapering into sculptured abs, his erect cock, anchored by heavy balls, framed perfectly by slender hips. Thank fuck the water was cold.

“We need to talk,” Catch said.

That didn’t sound good. Turner swam to the edge, hoisted himself out and sat, legs dangling. Catch joined him. Turner tried not to look at Catch’s cock, knowing the moment he did, his own erection would return with a vengeance.

“How do you feel about both of us fucking Matty?” Catch asked.

Shit. Swelling cock alert.

“We both have.” Turner’s hands clenched over the rim of the pool.

“I mean both of us at the same time.”

Turner’s cock surged.

Catch laughed. “I thought so.”

“What?” Turner snapped.

“You like the idea.”

“Maybe I just want you to suck me off.” Turner had no idea why he was being awkward.

Catch swung his legs out of the water and twisted Turner so he lay back, leaning on his elbows, knees in the air. The moment Catch enveloped his cock in his hot mouth, his tongue teasing the underside, Turner felt orgasm brewing. The budding ache in the back of his head remained part pleasure, part pain, and he waited for it to flash to his groin. As he lifted his hips to fuck Catch’s mouth, Turner raised one hand to slide his fingers into choppy blond hair.

“I saw you,” Turner gasped.

Catch lifted his head. “I know. So why didn’t you join us, you stupid fucker?” He ran his tongue through the slit on Turner’s cock head and then licked his lips. “I prayed to every fucking deity I don’t even believe in for you to walk into that room, strip off and lie down with us. No surprise when you didn’t.”

Turner glared. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

Catch used his thumb to rub the line down the middle of Turner’s balls. “Why would you think that?”

“Matty—”

“Is sweet and cute and needs two sexy guys to show her how much fun three can have. Want to toss for her ass?”

Turner’s brain rocketed into space. Matty between them. Matty and Catch with their mouths on his cock. Him fucking Catch as Catch fucked Matty. In the mouth. In the pussy. In the ass.
Christ.

Catch’s long, fast swallows of his cock dragged Turner straight to the brink. The pressure in his head increased and orgasm flashed down his spine to ignite his balls. His hips gave a violent jerk and he filled Catch’s mouth with his seed.
Shit, that was fast.

As the last spasm died away, Turner opened his eyes. Catch let him loose from his lips with a wet slurp but kept licking Turner’s cock until he’d cleaned him up.

“I rest my case,” Catch said with a smug grin.

“What?” He had no idea what Catch was talking about. Turner’s head remained fogged by orgasm.

“You never come that fast.”

Turner sat up and stared at him. “Well, maybe I got turned-on by you standing there in the moonlight looking like some…hot god.”

Catch’s mouth twitched. “Nice line of bullshit, Turner. You want Matty lying between us.”

“Maybe I want Matty for myself.” Turner scrambled to his feet.

Catch pushed himself up. “Do you?”

“I…” Turner’s shoulders slumped. He needed to tell Catch what he’d found out.

“How did you
feel
when you saw me and her together?” Catch asked.

Why was he fighting this? “Sad I wasn’t there with you.” Turner had gotten to that eventually through his anger and despair.

Catch pulled Turner into his arms. “Finally.”

Turner pressed his forehead against Catch’s. “She’s your mate.”

“And so are you.”

Turner’s undead heart stuttered. “I feel it too.”

Oh God, I can’t tell him. Not right now.

“I know,” Catch whispered. “Want to hear what she said when we saw you walk away?”

“Thank God that pervert’s gone?”

“Ha-ha. She wanted to know what would happen if we called you back. I said we’d make it up as we go along. But no one would do anything that made her feel uncomfortable. We both understand no.”

Turner nodded.

“I told her we both wanted her but you were too much of a gentleman to come out with it. She said you were upset.”

“I was.”

“And that you were afraid.”

Turner laughed. “That too.”

Catch stroked his cheek. “We’re all a bit afraid. I asked if I should go get you. She nodded.”

Turner’s fangs prickled and he clamped his lips together. Talk about inappropriate.

“And here I am. Getting you,” Catch said.

“So what happens now?”

“Playtime.” Catch grinned.

* * * * *

What the hell had she done? Panic raced through Matty, leaving goose bumps in its wake as she paced the attic floor. Had she actually said yes or had Catch assumed it?

She might not have said yes but she’d sort of nodded.

Damn it. I did. I nodded.

She made her way to the next floor down while she could still walk. Why shouldn’t she accept what was being offered? They were consenting adults. They wouldn’t hurt her. No point denying it was a fantasy she often played out in her head, though not one she’d ever dreamed could be real. And after all, she’d already had sex with them separately.

The thought made her cheeks burn.

They were both great.

She went hotter.

Matty didn’t know what lay in her future. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Why not embrace the present?

Talking of presents, she saw the sun in a jar she’d given Turner sitting on his bedside table along with her birthday card. And he’d saved the candles off the cake. Matty swallowed the lump in her throat.

She crawled naked into Turner’s bed, pulled the duvet over her head and waited, her heart pounding. She heard the pair of them racing up the stairs and expected them to keep going up to the attic, but the footsteps stopped. When she peeped toward the bedroom door, they stood there, staring at her. Both were smiling, both had erections.

Big erections. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Hello, beautiful,” Catch said. He smiled and leapt at the bed to land on her left.

Turner took a more leisurely route, his lips clamped together, and sat on her right.

“Are you sure?” Turner whispered.

“Of course she is,” Catch said. “She’s the luckiest woman in the world. She can barely believe we’re all hers. Every single inch of us. More inches of some of us than others, not that—”

“Shut up.” Turner glared at Catch and focused back on Matty. “Sure you want both of us?” he asked hesitantly.

She gulped. “I’m sure. Well, as sure as I could ever be. If I think too much about this, I’ll freak out. I can’t quite believe I could be this lucky.”

“We’re the lucky ones,” Turner said. “But you have to be certain this is what you want.”

“He’s right,” Catch said. “I know you want me, but you really want his ugly mug too?”

Matty smiled. “You balance each other. I want you both.”

Turner lay down and stretched out his long legs. They were still on top of the duvet with her underneath.

“What do you mean, we balance each other?” Catch asked.

“Turner’s all dark and brooding and elegantly cool. He thinks a lot. You’re blond and scruffy and full of energy and you don’t think so much. You’re the most gorgeous guys I ever saw. You make me hot and you make me laugh.”

“Me?” Turner’s brow furrowed.

“I’ll never forget your face when you agreed to judge the cake competition. You looked as though you’d rather have nails hammered into your tongue. You do know the competition is tomorrow? They’re expecting you to make a cake for the committee to auction for charity.”

Turner grimaced and Catch laughed.

“See, that’s Turner’s funny face,” Matty said.

“Yeah, it is pretty funny,” Catch said, his fingers dancing on the duvet. “So can we fuck now?”

Matty stifled a snort. “That’s the other difference. Turner’s cautious and you jump straight in.”

Turner edged closer. He rested on his side, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger before turning her face to his. “Do you trust us?”

“Yes.” Matty’s reply was instant and honest. She
did
trust them.

Catch snuck his hand under the duvet and played with her fingers.

“You can say no anytime and we’ll stop,” Turner said. “You’re the one in control.”

Matty nodded.

“So, all systems go, ready for takeoff?” Catch asked.

The duvet flew to the other side of the room and she squealed.

“Oh Jesus, you are so beautiful,” Catch whispered. “Look at those rosy nipples.”

He was just about to wrap his lips around one, and Matty squealed, “Stop.”

Catch froze with his tongue almost touching her.

“Just testing,” she said with a grin.

Chapter Seventeen

 

Matty’s heart pounded so hard she could hear the echo in her head. Tingles of electricity skittered up and down her spine, and an excess of nervous energy almost had her levitating.

Oh my God. I’m going to have sex with two guys at the same time.

The two most gorgeous guys in the world. And they wanted her. Between them. Under them. On top of them. She clamped her lips together to trap her whimper.

Catch’s mouth still hovered above her nipple. He hadn’t blinked. Or breathed. Turner’s gaze flicked between her face and Catch’s, the hint of a smile on his lips. Matty had teased with the “stop” outburst and she understood she had to make the first move. Soon.

She gulped and arched her back, lifting her breast and brushing Catch’s lips with her nipple. His eyes closed and he shuddered. When he began to suck, Matty felt the pull all the way to her core. She spread her fingers over his back and his muscles flexed and rippled under her caress. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and as Turner’s mouth settled around her other nipple, they danced faster.

“Wow,” Matty whispered, and dropped the fingers of her other hand onto Turner’s back.

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