Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…
A
Red Hot Winter story
.
True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny has rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has time to babysit a city girl until spring?
With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.
The fire that destroys the cabin, though, is as real as it gets. Forced to seek a bed under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering. One night in their arms doesn’t feel like enough; it feels like more. Particularly with one cowboy who fires all her cylinders…
Product Warnings
It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way… Copyright © 2011 Delilah Devlin
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Honey sat huddled under a blanket on the couch Lonny had moved nearer the fire. He’d found a pair of insulated leggings for her to wear that fit her well enough. Her ass kept them from falling off. The sweater was large, and fell off whichever shoulder she shrugged, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her own clothing was salvageable and was in the laundry, but she’d save them for her trip off the mountain once the snowplows cleared the road.
Lonny had checked with the department of transportation and said it might be several days before she could leave. And she was determined to do just that—despite his assurances that she could stay and complete the work she’d come to do.
However, that seemed pointless. She’d saved the thumb drive, but she didn’t have the heart to finish the new story. She was supposed to write something sexy and flirty, but all she had the urge to create was a tragedy.
She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she should pull up her big-girl panties and get on with it. But she didn’t have any panties on.
“I have soup.”
She jumped at True’s quiet words. The man could creep up on a ghost. And was that all he had to say? Seriously?
Honey bit back a retort, recognizing that what she really wanted was to start a fight—with him. She held out her hand and waited while he turned the mug to present her the handle.
A small gesture, but one that fucked with her head. Why be gentle? Why pretend to care whether she burned her fingers? She’d burned down his entire cabin—his quaint little hunting cabin that his father had built years ago. Why wasn’t he furious?
She gulped down a sip of chicken soup and blinked.
“Couldn’t you tell it was hot?”
She blinked away pain-filled tears and aimed a blistering glare his way.
True’s jaw clenched. “I’ll leave you to finish.” He began to turn away.
She bent to set the cup on the floor. “Why are you avoiding me?” If she could have bit her own tongue and swallowed it whole, she would have.
True hesitated. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Don’t give me that crock of—” She glanced away. She wasn’t going to cuss at the man. Wasn’t going to make herself look any more pathetic than she already was.
“I’m guessing now’s not a good time to check on our girl.”
Both Honey and True turned to glare at Lonny whose mouth moved like he was biting his lip. Was he laughing at them?
“Don’t disappear,” True said. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”
“No kidding,” Honey muttered.
Lonny walked deeper into the room, glancing from Honey to True. “I take it you’re feeling more yourself, Honey?”
“I’ve never been less myself,” she snarled.
“I don’t know about that,” he said amiably. “The color’s back in your cheeks.”
Honey hit her thigh with her fist. “I don’t shout at men. I don’t ever want to shout at men. But he—” She glared at True. “He manages to push every last one of my buttons.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Lonny asked softly. He took a seat beside her. “Quit hovering, True. Take a seat.”
True looked reluctant but took up the space on her left side. Wedged between the two brothers, Honey blew out a deep breath. The temperature in the room had skyrocketed. She flipped back her blanket.
True reached for the edge and shoved it over her shoulder.
“I’m warm enough,” she muttered.
“You’ll get sick.”
“And that would be a huge inconvenience on top of the hundred other inconveniences I’ve caused, wouldn’t it?”
True nodded, but her searing glance had him buttoning his lip and glancing away. “I should head out to check on the horses in the barn.”
“They’ll wait,” Lonny said flatly.
Honey flung up her hands. “I can assure both of you that I’m fine. No need for you to worry. If you’ll just show me where I can sleep…”
Lonny laid a hand on her knee and leaned toward her. “That’s part of what we’re going to talk about, sweetheart.”
She narrowed her eyes to give him a mean glare even though inside her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. “Oh, yeah?”
“True mentioned what you’re writing.”
True muttered a curse under his breath.
Honey’s cheeks burned. “Anyone ever tell you that you two are big fat gossips?”
“Not ever. Don’t change the subject. A ménage, right?”
“I changed my mind,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve decided to scrap the book. Now I’m going to write a post-apocalyptic story—lots of blood and guts. I’m feeling pretty violent at the moment.”
“I think you need to do the right research.”
“Oh, really?” She wouldn’t admit it even on her dying bed, but just the thought of doing a little research made her heart flutter madly.
“You can count me out,” True said forcefully.
“Not to your taste, I know,” Lonny said, so cheerfully he made Honey want to scream. “You mentioned that before.”
Honey kept her gaze on Lonny because she was way too chicken to look at True. “You two talked about doing a ménage with me? Is anything sacred?”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“You know damn well I’m not wearing any.”
“Dammit.”
That did it. Honey swung toward True. “Do you know any other cuss words?”
“His vocabulary’s limited,” Lonny quipped.
She lifted her chin when True’s gaze narrowed. “So I noticed,” she said, keeping her tone even.
“Be nice,” Lonny chided.
She grunted and faced forward again. “Sorry.”
“Back to the ménage…”
True stirred beside her, and she felt his thighs tense like he was going to rise. Without looking at him, Honey laid her hand on his thigh and pressed down.
“There ought to be a few rules,” Lonny continued. “Things each one of us won’t do.”
“Like swords never crossing,” she quipped.
“For fuck sake,” True ground out. “Did either of you hear what I said? Not interested.”
“If I believed that for a minute, I’d lay off.” All humor was gone from Lonny’s voice.
Honey held her breath, waiting…
True stayed tense beneath her hand. His breaths deepened.
“Personally, I’d just as soon not ‘cross swords’ as Honey suggested,” Lonny said slowly.
Honey drew in a deep breath. “I’d just as soon not be tied down.”
Both men pinned her with a glance.
She shrugged. “I like to touch.”
True jerked but didn’t try to rise.
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| by Joyce |
Date Added: Monday 10 January, 2011 |
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This book is awesome! Enjoyed every word of it. Loved the de... View Full Review
Rating:  [5 of 5 Stars!] |
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