Leah's Triplet Mates [The Cat Burglars 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 5

  Hardy thrust three fingers into her cunt and twisted and turned them, feeling for that slightly rougher place that would send her crazy. Above him, Saxon captured her lips with his, and Hardy was sure Bram was massaging her back door. Hardy fucked his fingers in and out of her cunt, scraping a fingernail lightly over her sweet spot when he found it.

  “Oh, yes,” she groaned.

  “Come now, Leah,” ordered Saxon.

  Hardy pumped his fingers in and out of her again, and she came creaming over them. He gentled his strokes and then pulled his hand away and sucked her clit again before standing up.

  She was still smiling, and her chest was heaving. Bram was washing her with shower gel now, and Hardy joined in while Saxon supported her.

  Soon they stepped out and wrapped towels around her and themselves. Leah took a second towel to rub her hair. “I hope one of you has a comb I can borrow. Otherwise, my hair is going to look terrible.”

  Hardy laughed. Oh yes, he did like this woman very much.

  * * * *

  Holding Leah, having her suck his dick so well, was a revelation to Saxon. He hadn’t believed Bram’s bullshit about her being perfect for them. He’d thought it’d be just another five minutes of pleasure. This woman had to be interrogated because of her connection with Lutterworth, but the idea that she might be mate material hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d been sure Bram’s talk was just wishful thinking.

  Honesty made him admit to himself that his dick had practically exploded at her touch. Her fingers and mouth on him had been a huge aphrodisiac. He’d come so fast and so hard it’d almost blown his mind. Yet she clearly wasn’t a highly experienced sexual partner. She’d taken the time to stare at and touch his equipment, treating him gently and carefully yet still arousing him hugely. If he had to guess, he’d have said she hadn’t had very many partners at all. Clearly she wasn’t a virgin, but she didn’t display the innate confidence a woman who’d sucked a range of cocks gave off either.

  That made her more special, and highly valuable, in his mind. He liked the idea that he and his brothers could initiate her into the delights of BDSM ménages. The scent of her cream when Hardy had whipped her proved she’d enjoyed the punishment, although she’d definitely deserved it as well after all the trouble she’d given them.

  To his surprise, she picked up her panties and rolled the two pieces together, tucking them into the pocket of her jeans. After she was dressed, she looked around the dungeon and asked, “Where are my stamp albums?”

  Instead of waiting for an answer, she hurried to the door and picked up her coat, looking underneath it before slinging it over her shoulder and turning to face him again. Her face was set. He knew instantly that she wouldn’t leave without those fucking stamp albums.

  “Why do you want them?” he asked.

  “Because they belong to me.”

  “Why have you taken your panties? They’re ruined,” said Hardy.

  “For the same reason. Because they’re mine. Besides, they aren’t ruined. They’re cut along the seam. I can sew them back together easily enough. Now, quit wasting my time and give me the stamp albums. Please.”

  Saxon wanted to grin. The please was very much an afterthought. However, her saying she was going to mend her panties was very interesting indeed. He didn’t know how much ladies’ underwear cost, but these weren’t a delicate, expensive silk and lace creation. They were plain cotton, likely only worth a dollar or two. For her to say she planned to sew them back together indicated to his mind that she was a seamstress by trade or inclination or else a couple of dollars mattered to her. Dammit. He needed to get to the bottom of this matter.

  “Why are the stamps so important to you? Why were you at Lutterworth’s house tonight?” he asked in his sternest Dom voice.

  She sighed, and a lot of the fight went out of her body. He suddenly noticed how tired she looked and realized that it must be getting close to dawn already and none of them had slept yet.

  “If I tell you my story, do you promise to give them back to me and let me go?”

  “Yes we do. On our honor,” said Bram.

  Saxon wanted to kick his idiotic youngest brother. Bram might be besotted with her, but they still had no way of knowing whose side she was on in this battle. Then he remembered they had her car and could memorize her license plate and address. It wouldn’t be hard to catch her again if they needed to.

  She stared at Hardy, who nodded and said, “That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for trashing my car.”

  “You shouldn’t have locked me in the trunk then.”

  When she looked at him, he said, “You have my word. Now tell me your story. I want the truth, not some fairytale.”

  She sank down onto the floor, sitting with crossed legs and watching them. Instantly, Bram sat opposite her and so did Hardy. Saxon admitted to himself that he was feeling tired, too, and joined them.

  “I already told you that John-Paul Crawford is my father. The Reverend John-Paul Crawford.”

  “So that church you went to was your home?” interjected Hardy.

  She nodded. “Our current home. For many years Dad was an itinerant Baptist preacher moving around the country wherever a church called him. The last two years we’ve been at the Tenth Baptist church establishing a refuge for abused woman and children and a feeding program for the homeless. A pastor doesn’t earn much of a salary, and running these programs costs a lot of money. We rely on wealthy donors.”

  He’d never stopped to think about such things, but he supposed even feeding soup and bread to a hundred people would be costly if they needed a meal every day.

  “So your dad sold his stamp albums to raise money. Why did you steal them back?” asked Hardy.

  “That fucktard told Dad the stamps were only worth a few hundred dollars and Dad gave him the albums saying it’d have to do. That it was all he had to sell. My sisters and I had been checking Dad’s stamps online, and although he doesn’t have any really special ones, his collection goes back to before he was born. He was given the first album when he was just a little kid, and some of his aunts and uncles gave him their old stamps to start his collection. My sisters and I are sure that, as a collection, the albums are worth more than a measly two hundred dollars. They aren’t really valuable. I’m not talking thousands, but Zoe did the math, and she reckons dad should have been given one thousand for them. Maybe even more.”

  “I still don’t understand why you stole them back. Why not just give Lutterworth his money back and say your dad changed his mind?” asked Saxon.

  Leah flung out her arms toward them, her face a grimace begging them to understand. “That’s the whole point. The f—Lutterworth never gave Dad the money. Dad just said to leave him alone, that he might need a little time, but that’s just Dad being Dad. Lutterworth isn’t a homeless person from the feeding program. He’s a wealthy man. A businessman. He could certainly afford to give the money to Dad straight away. I’m afraid he knows Dad too well. Dad will forget all about not having been paid, and we’ll be moving to another church, another state, and that’ll be it. Lutterworth will own the albums and likely sell them for far more than two hundred dollars. We need that money now. Dad needs it. The utility company needs it. Stealing them back was the only thing I could do.”

  Saxon stared at her. Leah’s whole body was bent toward the three of them, clearly demanding they listen to her story and believe her. Going by what they knew of Lutterworth, her thoughts were very likely accurate. He was a cheat and a con man, and he probably wouldn’t ever pay the reverend the money he owed him. And likely Leah and her sister were correct and the stamps were worth a hell of a lot more than two hundred dollars.

  “How do you propose to sell the albums since your father thinks they’re already sold?” asked Bram.

  Saxon looked at him. Good question. It was about time the kid starting thinking with his head not his dick.

  “Maia has been talking to a stamp dealer in Detroit. We can driv
e there in a little over three hours, sell the albums for cash, and get back here by evening. Dad shouldn’t even notice we’re missing.”

  “How do you know he’ll give you a fair price?” asked Hardy.

  Leah sighed and closed her eyes. “We don’t. But we’re not as …as…inclined to believe in the innate goodness of other people as Dad is.”

  “I think the word you need here is gullible,” said Saxon.

  Leah shook her head but didn’t say anything. Once again Saxon was aware of how tired she looked. After all, she’d burgled a house, been locked in the trunk of a car, escaped from there, been captured, participated in a BDSM scene, and then had sex with all three of them. And likely she hadn’t spent the early part of the day resting up for the evening either. He stood up and walked to the equipment drawers, talking out the stamp albums, still in their mesh bag.

  Instantly, she jumped to her feet, her face split wide in a happy grin, and her big brown eyes sparkling. “Thank you. If you’ll just take me to my car, I’ll go home now.”

  Suddenly, Saxon couldn’t bear to let go of her. She was theirs, dammit.

  “We’ll escort you home now, and we’ll go with you to the stamp dealer. When he sees that you’re protected, he’ll be less likely to try to take advantage of you.”

  Leah shrugged the mesh bag onto her back and crossed her arms over the coat held against her chest. “I will be the one talking to the dealer and accepting or rejecting the arrangements.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Bram.

  “But we’ll be right there with you,” added Hardy.

  Chapter Four

  Bram made sure he was the one to be sitting beside her in the passenger seat, leaving the backseat for his brothers.

  “You can’t come in my car. How will you get home?” Leah complained.

  “You should have thought of that before you trashed my car,” said Hardy.

  “Will you shut the fuck up about your car? You locked me in the trunk of it, remember? And I’m serious. This is the only car we have, and we need it for the ministry.” She tipped her head back and looked at the sky. “I’m not sure what time it is, but by seven, we need to make the first trip and pick up the day-old bread from the bakery. They aren’t allowed to sell it, so they give it to us, which is awesome. It makes such a difference to what meals we can provide.”

  Bram didn’t understand. “What do you mean? Like sandwiches?”

  “Sandwiches, of course, and toast, but also bread and butter puddings, thickening for soups and stews, croutons, crumbed batter for fish and meat, hundreds of different things.”

  Okay, so he didn’t know much about cooking.

  Saxon interrupted. “If you need to get there by seven, you’d better get moving. It’s almost six now.”

  “Oh, hell. Mom will be awake already. I have to be home before she finds out I didn’t come back last night.”

  Hardy jumped out to unlock the gate and lock it behind them again, and Saxon directed her to go left, then right, then left twice more, and then right again. It was a long and unnecessarily complicated route to the freeway, but Bram wouldn’t be at all surprised if she could still find her way back here. Their woman was damn smart and wouldn’t be fooled by such a simple test.

  “If your mom will be awake when you get home, what are you going to say to her?” asked Bram.

  “Nothing. We’re going to pick up the bread first, and I’ll enter the house with the bread, so she’ll assume I was up early. Which I was. Far too early. Once I can talk to my sisters alone, we can work out when Maia and I’ll go to Detroit. It has to be a day when Zoe can manage the meals without us. Which probably means making soup. Again. I do hate giving them soup all the time. It’s nutritious but a real meal is so much nicer.”

  Bram just sat there staring at Leah. Instead of complaining about how tired she was and how much work she had to do, she was fussing about not giving the homeless people a special meal. Jeez. Surely there was some way he and his brothers could help her.

  “You said wealthy people donate food and money for the homeless?” asked Saxon.

  Trust him to get right to the point. Saxon was always so aware of being the eldest. Bram mostly ignored his bossiness and take-charge attitude, but every now and then it came in useful. Like now.

  “That’s correct. Dad is really bad at asking for anything. He truly believes that the Lord will provide, and God does provide. People have been very generous indeed. But mostly they’re generous because Mom reminds them of how much more they have than the homeless or the people in the shelter do.”

  It sounded to Bram as though the Lord provided because the family worked damn hard to make sure it happened. But then panthers were fairly polytheistic in their religious beliefs. Also, he’d never been starving and had to hope some kind person would make him a meal. He had no plans to judge anyone here at all, but he did have plans, very strong plans, to find out more about Leah and get to know her a hell of a lot better. In bed, naked, and ménage fucking better.

  Bram saw the church up ahead, but Leah drove straight past it and several blocks farther on to a small row of on-street stores. This was a Mom and Pop area of small family businesses. Likely they wouldn’t be making a lot of money, but it seemed the bakery, at least, supported the work of Leah’s father.

  She parked outside the bakery, and Bram drooled at the rich smell of hot yeasty bread wafting out from the store. As Leah opened her door, Bram jumped out as well. “I’m starving. I think I’ll buy us some breakfast,” he said, slamming his car door.

  An older man in a tall white chef’s hat and white trousers with a white apron tied around his waist smiled at Leah.

  “Ah, Leah, you’re early this morning.”

  “I was already up so I decided to come now. But if I’m too early I’m happy to wait.”

  “No, no, little one. The bread is ready for you to collect. My heart aches for those hungry people. My life’s work has been to feed people.”

  Bram was stunned. The generous man not only gave away his day-old bread but considered it a privilege. Truly he was a good person. An older woman, who Bram guessed was the baker’s wife, came to the counter, rubbing her hands on her white apron.

  “Can I help you?” she asked him.

  “The bread smells wonderful. I’d like to buy a dozen of those,” he asked, pointing at large bread rolls woven into a pattern.

  “We call them our Breakfast Bites. Cheese-and-bacon-filled sourdough rolls.”

  “They sound and look delicious.” Bram paid for a dozen bread rolls and stared as Leah slung a huge black trash bag over her shoulder and staggered out to her car.

  Quickly he followed her, opening the trunk for her. She had to pat the bag, shifting the contents around to make the trunk lid close.

  “Is there always that much? How can he make a living with so much left over?” he asked as she started the engine again.

  “He’s wonderful. He does it deliberately. He came to the church one lunchtime to see how many people were there, and ever since then, he’s been baking extra so we have more. He’s a wonderful helper to the ministry. We couldn’t do it without him.”

  “Who else helps you?” asked Hardy, leaning over the seat.

  “Two of the local stores give us their fruit and vegetables when they’re no longer at their best. Mom keeps meaning to visit a few more places. We could use a lot more fruit and vegetables because we can cook it into pies and things like that and freeze them to use later if there’s too much for a single mealtime.”

  Bram decided right then and there to help her do that. As long as her mom didn’t kill them all for what they’d done to Leah. Likely her mom wouldn’t approve of them locking her in the trunk of her car.

  Hmm. How was he going to get around that little problem?

  * * * *

  Leah had hoped the men would disappear when she arrived back at the church. Instead, they were out of the car as quickly as she was, Saxon carrying the trash bag full
of day-old bread, Bram holding the parcel of bread rolls he’d bought, and Hardy standing at her side. Well fuck! How am I going to explain them to Mom? They don’t look starving or homeless.

  Added to that was the rich aroma of the fresh bread in Bram’s hands, which made her belly clench with hunger and her mouth drool. At least it kept her awake. She wasn’t used to staying up all night, and the chances of her taking a nap this morning weren’t high. She needed to tell her sisters everything that had happened. They’d be worried about her for sure.

  When Leah pushed the unlocked screen door open into the parsonage kitchen, the situation was worse than she’d hoped. Not only was her mother there, flipping eggs in a pan, but both her sisters were sitting at the table, chopping potatoes and onions, and her father was leaning back in a chair at the other end of the table, a pile of bills surrounding him and a worried look on his face.

  Well fuck! She’d hoped to get some money toward paying those damn utility bills before her dad learned just how dire the situation was.

  Her mom cast a worried glance into the pan as she saw the men following Leah inside. That told Leah there weren’t enough eggs for everyone. They’d just have to eat some of the free bread if they were still hungry after eating the eggs and the rolls Bram had bought. They all hated doing that, but sometimes they had no choice. It seemed like stealing to Leah. Donors were promised the food would be given to the poor. Unfortunately, there were days when the food for the poor was the only food available. The simply had no money themselves.

  But at least we have a roof over our head. And it’s a good roof, too.

  Leah could remember the year they’d spent in the trailer park. From a child’s point of view, it had been fun. There was a spacious area of grass to run around and play on, and there were always other children to play with, as well as her sisters. From her mother’s perspective, it had been nothing like fun. With no running water in the trailer, cooking and cleaning had been long, slow, difficult chores, and three small children playing outside all day ensured mountains of laundry needed to be washed.