[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Cowboy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]
Chocolate, roses, crème brûlée, and vandalism! After a life-changing tragedy two years earlier, Sherri Blacker is unable to move forward. She pretends everything is okay. She smiles. She eats. She sleeps. She goes through the motions of everyday life, but her loss is buried deep. The most she can do is maintain an even keel. When a graffiti bandit goes on a spray-paint rampage through the neighborhood, however, she and her men find themselves sucked into the mushy-gushy, lovey-dovey V-day drama she’s been so adamantly avoiding. Benji and Ethan Blacker know their wife hasn’t fully recovered from that day two years ago. They know it’s time to talk about it, and they know it’s time to help her. First, though, as Male Order’s sheriff, Ethan has to find the spray-painting culprit before the whole neighborhood has been desecrated. Can the spirit of love lead them out of trouble and down the road of healing? Or will the graffiti bandit prevail?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Note: This romantic trio was first introduced in A Bride for Two Renegades [The Male Order Collection]. Each Love Is Hell book ends with an HEA for its main characters, although the two books share an external story arc.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Edith DuBois is a Siren-exclusive author.
“Benji!” she called as soon as he walked out the door. “Look at this shit. Look at what some asshole has done to our shed.”
As he rounded the corner of the house, he saw a large spray-painted graphic on the side of the small wooden structure. There was a phrase written in French, which had been painted in black. The words were circled with a red heart and then angrily slashed through in red.
“Whoa,” he said. “What does it mean?”
“I’m on the phone with Emilie right now. Her house got hit, too. She said it reads ‘L’enfer, c’est l’amour!’ which means something like ‘love is hell’ and that it’s from some old French play.”
Benji walked closer to the shed to inspect while Sherri continued ranting with Emilie on the phone. A minute or so later when she hung up, she came to stand next to him, shaking her head.
“How the hell did we not see this happening? Whoever did it must have hit it between now and when I got home from work.”
“I was probably in my office.” He couldn’t have seen it from there. It was on the other side of the cabin and the window was on the totally opposite side from the shed. “You were in the kitchen.” Those windows faced the back, and the shed was out of view. “They just snuck up here and did it.”
“This makes me so mad. I want to find this person and punch them in the nose.” Sherri growled and kicked at the dirt. She also sported an intense scowl. With her delicate, upturned nose, her wide full lips, and the hint of rose on her pale cheeks, she looked pretty damn adorable.
“Well, it was probably time for a new paint job anyway,” he said, pulling her to his body, trying to console her.
“That’s not the point.” She wrapped her arm around him as they stared at the offensive oeuvre. “Who would do this? I mean, what’s the purpose of spray-painting someone’s private property? I thought the point of graffiti was so that a lot of people would see it. You know, as a sort of ‘eff you’ to the man.”
“Definitely an amateur.”
Sherri giggled a little bit. “This is no Banksy.”
Hugging her close, he kissed her temple. He knew she couldn’t stay mad about this. In fact, it kind of seemed like something she would have done in her youth.
“We’ll get Ethan to take a look when he gets back. Maybe he can do a patrol around the neighborhood or something. It might at least scare the hoodlum off.” They headed back into the house. “Oh, sweetie,” Sherri said.
“Can you run to Whole Foods and pick up some pasta? I thought we had enough.”
“Sure.” He bent down and kissed her cheek.
“And maybe some hot French bread? If it’s nice and fresh?”
“Anything for my babay.” He kissed her cheek again.
“And some chocolate ice cream.”
“Whoa, now. I’m gonna need something a little more for chocolate ice cream.”
Chuckling, she turned to him and planted a firm kiss on his mouth. He sneakily darted his tongue in, and her arms tightened around his body in response. The kiss deepened until both their tongues were pushing against each other, twirling and rolling and thrusting. Sherri pressed her hips against his and ran her hands down his back, stopping at his ass and pulling him against her.
“God,” she said, breaking slightly away. “You better get out of here before I have my way with you on the front porch.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
“I know you wouldn’t, but what if they’re lingering nearby?”
“Who?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, half hoping she would let him have her right here on the front porch.
“You know. Whoever did that.” She nodded toward the shed.
Benji stopped his nuzzling. “Ugh, you’re right. That’s creepy.” He looked out toward the woods, feeling a chill zip up his spine as he scanned the trees for any movement. A moment or two later, they went back inside.
He grabbed his keys and his wallet, but before leaving for the store, he snuck back to the kitchen to quietly watch Sherri darting here and there, cutting up vegetables and mixing them up for the spaghetti sauce. He studied her face, the way her hands moved, the set of her shoulders. He was looking for any signs, any hints of the sadness he’d seen earlier. It was so well hidden, he realized. He almost started to think he’d imagined the whole thing, but then he saw her falter.
After pouring the chopped veggies into the tomato sauce, she sort of floated to a stop. Her stirring spoon was in the pot, but she didn’t stir. Instead, she stared out the window for a long moment. It was so long that he almost said something, but then he noticed the hand holding the spoon. She gripped it so hard that her knuckles were white and the muscles in her arm were rigidly flexed. The rest of her body was still, but she was squeezing the spoon so tightly that her arm began to tremble.
When finally she relaxed and began stirring, Benji let out a small, silent breath. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it.
“I’m going to head out,” he said quietly.
Sherri jumped and whipped around. “Oh, God,” she said, clutching a hand to her heart. “I thought you’d already left.” She giggled nervously. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He held her eyes.
He saw that her fear went deeper. It wasn’t only that he’d scared her. He knew she was wondering if he’d seen that moment, if he’d seen her vulnerability.
“Okay, well I’ll see you in a little bit then,” she said, turning from him, breaking away, not wanting to push up against him now.
“Sherri,” he said.
“I love you.”
She kept stirring, not daring to look at him. “I love you, too, sweetie.”
Wrapping his hand around the back of her head, Ethan pulled her in for a softer, deeper kiss. He ran his fingers through her shoulder-length silky, wavy strands, pushing them back from her face and tucking one side behind an ear. Their tongues danced together in a leisurely manner, rolling and twirling, advancing and retreating, and then Sherri sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. After holding it for a long moment, she released it and settled back into her seat.
He thought she’d finished discussing it and that they would move on to another topic, but she said, “I keep thinking about how our daughter was a part of us, all three of us, and I think about how much I still want that even though it’s crazy and impossible and pointless.
“You know…there has never been a point in my life where I questioned whether or not I wanted to be a mother. I had girlfriends in college who would go through these phases of rejecting the desire or—I guess I should say ‘expectation’—put upon women to procreate, to nurture, to rear. All that. And they would get really angry that society put all these pressures on them to want children, and I totally get it. I can see why they were upset. Nobody likes to be told what to do, but it never affected me that way. Through all my rebelliousness and my teen angst and my awkwardness, that is the one thing I have always known about myself. It was the one absolute truth that I never doubted. I would be a mother.”
She let out a strangled laugh. “Sometimes it feels like I kind of don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Well that’s something you never have to worry about,” Benji said.
“What do you mean?”
“I know exactly who you are, and I will tell you every single day if I have to. I’ll tell you every five minutes if you need me to. You are Sherri Winston Blacker. You are my wife, and you are my brother’s wife. You are an extraordinarily brave and beautiful woman. You love generously, and you are fiercely loved.” Benji paused for second as if thinking. “Did I miss anything, bro?”
“You forgot to mention that she has a remarkably gorgeous pussy.”
“Oh, great,” Sherri said, but she was giggling. “Way to ruin a romantic moment.”
“What are you talking about, baby? I thought that was romantic as hell. I love your pussy. It is truly a work of art. If I could, I’d have my face buried in it twenty-four seven.”
Giggling even harder, Sherri shoved his shoulder. “Under all this big, bad sheriff business, you are nothing but a doofus, Ethan Blacker.”
“Never claimed otherwise. But all doofus-talk aside, I wasn’t kidding. I want to see your pussy. Right now.”
The giggling instantly ceased, and Ethan heard a slight hitch in her breathing.
“Pull your pants down,” he said, knowing his firm demands would turn her on faster than anything else. When she had done what he asked, he said, “Touch that beautiful pussy.”
Benji leaned forward from the backseat for a closer look as she obeyed Ethan’s commands. Her fingers sunk into her glistening folds, and she emitted a small, pleasure-filled whimper. Ethan’s cock hardened. This probably wasn’t the best idea, to get themselves all three turned on right in the middle of the town square, but they needed it. Sherri needed it. She needed the deep-down safety and comfort and rightness that only came from the three of them together this way, exploring and pleasuring and releasing.
Sherri swirled her fingers. He saw her thumb rubbing back and forth across her clit. “That’s it,” he said. “Go nice and deep for me. Make sure your fingers are completely covered in that thick, delicious cream.”
“Ethan,” she said, panting. Her fingers began working faster.
“Spread your legs wider. I want to see everything.”
Benji slid his hand over her shoulders and then down to her breasts. He made slow and teasing circles around her nipples with his thumbs, and Ethan could clearly see the hunger in his brother’s eyes as he watched their wife handling her perfect little cunt.
Small moans broke free from Sherri’s throat with increasing frequency. Her eyes were squeezed tight, and he knew she was close to coming.
“Stop,” he said.
She let out a frustrated growl but did what he asked. Her eyes flew open and met his. There was frustration and longing in their depths, but there was also playfulness. He knew she wanted this even if it meant a few minutes of torture.
“Now put your fingers in my mouth.”