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Chapter 7
Scarlett
I wake up to light, so much light, pouring in through the windows like water. Underneath my cheek is the steady and reassuring warmth of Liam’s chest, and I can see the scatter of braids along his stomach signaling Snow’s presence on the other side of him.
I sit up, feeling a pleasant bite of soreness between my legs as I do, and squint out the windows. On the other side of the glass, the world is glaringly white, filled with drifts and hummocks of snow. It looks beautiful…and cold. Forbidding. But on this side of the glass, I have a warm mountain of a man and my crush snuggling under a pile of down blankets, and it’s too tempting to resist going back to sleep.
So I do, snuggling back in with Liam and Snow, and my last feeling before I drift off is a feeling of deep and contented relief that the snow is too high for Liam to leave…
When I wake again, I’m alone in the bed.
Someone’s taken the time to straighten the covers around me, though, and the smell of bacon wafting through the air is enough to satisfy any inner grumbles about being left behind. I push out of the bed and wander naked into the large living area.
“There she is,” Snow chirps from atop the counter. She’s in fuzzy socks, sweatpants, and sweatshirt that slumps off one shoulder, and she might as well be wearing a ballgown, that’s how luminous and stunning she looks to me.
Liam’s got his back to me as he works at the stove—his naked back, sculpted and tight and perfect—and his equally sculpted and tight ass is being hugged by a pair of my dad’s pajama pants. It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking cute.
And if he weren’t making the most perfect breakfast food in the world.
“We saved the good bacon for you,” Snow says as I walk in. Her eyes linger appreciatively on my body and my nipples tighten up even more than they already were in the chilly air.
“What she means is she’s already eaten all the bacon she wanted,” Liam says, turning to face me, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. It does nothing to domesticate him—his features are as fierce and wild as ever. I get the feeling he’s eaten next to a fire in the woods as often as he’s eaten indoors.
And his expression as he takes in my naked body is downright feral. Before he turns back to the stove, I see that monster of a cock stirring against the fabric of the pants.
Yes, I’m very, very relieved he has to stay.
It’s funny. I’ve been in plenty of polyamorous configurations, I’ve been in beds with four and five and even six people. I’ve been in poly relationships that lasted only as many hours as it took for everyone to come, and I’ve been in poly relationships that lasted for months and months. And not a single one of those relationships do I regret, and there’s not a single person I’ve loved or fucked who hasn’t been special to me in some way.
And yet walking into this kitchen with these two—Snow in her fuzzies and Liam in borrowed pajama pants—feels like the most important moment of my life. It feels like coming home, like destiny, like some part of me was constructed at birth to be in love with these two people—and I’m so, so aware that I know fuck all about Liam, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Not to the balloon of hope expanding inside my chest.
Liam clicks off the stove, tucks the kitchen towel in a neat fold over the oven handle, and then takes the plate of bacon to another counter, where he has bread and peanut butter waiting.
“What about eggs?” I ask, because I know we have some. Snow and I had stocked up for well over a week’s worth of food.
“It’s too late in the day for eggs,” he replies, as if that settles it, and then he makes us all peanut butter and bacon sandwiches, which he serves with a tall glass of milk and a cup of coffee. It’s not exactly a fluffy omelet covered with diced cilantro and perfect crescents of avocado, but as we sit around the table eating his bear-man food, I think I can’t be happier.
Chapter 8
Snow
I decide just to say it.
Liam’s in the kitchen, cleaning up after his meal, and Scarlett and I are sitting on the counter. Scarlett’s drizzling syrup onto her finger and then sucking it off, and Liam’s pretending not to notice.
His massive erection tells a different story, however.
“I want you to stay longer than another night,” I say quickly. My words seem to puncture the easy—if palpable with sexual tension—energy we’ve had going this morning, but I don’t care. I’m the only one brave enough to actually say what I want, and so it’s my job to get this straightened out.
“I know at some point we’ll have to take you back to your place, and I know you probably have all sorts of things that need tending to, but we’re not going back to Texas until Christmas and I think we’ve been having a lot of fun together and—”
“Yes,” Liam says. He turns to look at us both, taller than us even as we sit on the countertops. “I want more. I want to stay.”
Scarlett is so engrossed in his response that the syrup she was about to drizzle onto her finger misses and ribbons thinly over her bare thigh.
He sees it—and with a growl and a duck that serves to showcase his perfect shoulders, he licks it off her skin.
In true Scarlett fashion, she lets out a delighted giggle and then deliberately drizzles more syrup on her other thigh. Liam follows, licking her clean.
“More,” he says simply when he’s done with her thigh.
Scarlett’s eyebrow makes an impish arch as she obeys—and allows the syrup to drip all over the waxed vee between her legs. With a grunt of approval, Liam drops to his knees, slings her legs over his shoulders, and licks her to a shuddering orgasm.
He hands the syrup bottle to me once he’s satisfied Scarlett’s been seen to, but I have different plans.
I urge him up to his feet and pull him into a long kiss. He kisses differently than anyone I know, like every kiss is the last kiss he’ll ever have and he needs to savor it completely. Take it fully and leave nothing unseared by his need. We’re both breathless when we break apart, and his usual gruff expression is softened when I look up at him.
He looks down at me the way a man who cherishes a woman would—like he wants to fold me into his arms and never let me go, like he wants to fight battles for me and provide for me and spend the rest of his life with me. I mean, I consider myself fairly evolved when it comes to gender politics, but I’m shocked at how good it feels to have him looking at me this way. It’s almost like between him and Scarlett, I can have every type of adoration I ever wanted from a lover, and types of adorations I didn’t even know I wanted.
So when I carry out my little plan and tug the waistband of his pajamas down to drip syrup onto his turgid cock, it’s not with the same arch playfulness as Scarlett had, it’s with something serious and careful and aware. Our eyes don’t break from each other’s, even when I slide off the countertop to my knees, and I hope he sees in my gaze that I see him. That I see what he wants from us and I’m ready to give it to him.
That I think we could all fall in love with each other if we gave it a chance.
Chapter 9
Liam
Snow is looking up at me with everything I’ve ever wanted.
Intelligence and desire and tender concern.
Cold nights on the mountain wouldn’t be so cold if I had angels like these to come back to, I decide. And I also decide that I’m going to do everything in my power to make these angels mine—or convince them to make me theirs. Life’s too short to throw away gifts like the one the three of us share.
Scarlett follows Snow to the floor, and then I have two tongues slowly cleaning my aching cock, lapping at the syrup and sucking it off my skin. Scarlett fondles my balls as she cleans me, her clever fingers pressing behind my sack and finding all sorts of places I would have sworn weren’t for pleasure.
But in her hands, they are; she acts as if everything on my body and Snow’s body are for her pleasure. Like everything can be fun and delicious if only we’re brave enough to try.
Mine.
Or theirs.
Whatever it has to be so that I don’t have to let them go.
“Gonna come,” I grunt in warning. “Gonna come for you.”
Snow laces a hand through Scarlett’s hair and feeds the head of my cock past Scarlett’s lips. The moment I feel the wet heat of Scarlett’s mouth—so slick and silky against my bare flesh—my head falls back and my hips ram forward, shoving to the back of her throat as my balls clench and then semen erupts from my cock. I feel her swallowing around me, an exquisite squeeze as I pump her mouth full of come, and Snow’s hand on Scarlett’s head is relentless, forcing her to take more and more and more until finally I’m finished using her mouth.
“Fuck,” I mumble, sliding free from Scarlett’s lips and stumbling back. She looks up at me with wet eyes and a smile that would make the devil proud. “Holy fuck.”
She licks her lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m ready for a shower. Snow?”
They help each other to their feet and then, arms laced around each other’s backs, pad gracefully back to the bedroom, their pert asses moving so temptingly beneath swaying hair.
With a muttered curse, I follow, undressing as I go, already getting hard again.
Later that day, after we fucked in the shower and again in the bed, we lie watching a fresh shower of snow move in under the cover of dusk. We’re lying in my new favorite position, with Scarlett curled into one side of me and Snow into the other, and I’m stroking their shoulders in the comfortable, snow-blanketed silence. Earlier we talked of many things—I told them about my ranch, inherited from a grandfather who didn’t give a shit if I lived or died but wanted his cattle and sheep to live on. They told me about their work in Austin, teaching restless artistic types art history. We danced around what would happen after they went back to Texas—even Snow seemed too shy to broach the subject, and she’s the bravest of us. And now that we’ve snuggled into this quiet moment, it seems harder than ever to speak about.
But I can’t bear not speaking of it. Not for another moment.
“You saved my life,” I finally say. “I would have died.”
Snow makes a noise like it hurts her to think of the possibility and burrows closer into my side.
“You saved me, and I want to give you more than sex,” I continue. “More than until Christmas. I want to be something to you both because you’re already something to me. Montana is a long way from Texas, but I’ve done harder things, and it will be worth giving you what I want to give you.”
“And what do you want to give us?” Scarlett asks.
I glance between the two angels cuddled naked and warm next to me, and then I sigh heavy and content, like a bear in truth.
“Everything,” I reply. “I want to give you everything.”
The End
Do you love sexy, filthy fairytales? Do you like it when all three characters find a dirty Happily Ever After together? Check out American Queen, the first book in the New Camelot trilogy?
My name is Greer Galloway, and I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States.
When I was a girl, I received a warning. Keep your kisses to yourself.
Twice I ignored it, and twice my heart was utterly, miserably broken. I didn't need to learn my lesson a third time. Instead, I swore off love forever.
But President Colchester hasn't sworn me off--not by a long shot.
I knew him as Ash, the soldier I once kissed in a circle of broken glass. I haven't forgotten his broken promises and forbidden desires. But the country knows him as the leader of the free world, all that stands between us and war.
Desperate to have me, Ash sends his best friend Embry to bring me to him. He doesn't know about the secrets we also keep. Our own tragedies. Our own cravings. The second kiss. Soon, I find myself caught between past and present, pleasure and pain--and the two men who long for each other as much as they long for me. And as war and betrayal press ever closer, we tumble headlong into a passionate love affair that will change the world.
From the USA Today bestselling author of Priest and Misadventures of a Curvy Girl comes a contemporary reimagining of the legend of King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot--elegant, carnal, and unforgettable. This is Book One of New Camelot.
Find More About American Queen Here!
Also by Sierra Simone
Thornchapel:
A Lesson in Thorns
Feast of Sparks
Harvest of Sighs
Door of Bruises
Misadventures:
Misadventures with a Professor
Misadventures of a Curvy Girl
Misadventures in Blue
The New Camelot Trilogy:
American Queen
American Prince
American King
The Moon (Merlin’s Novella)
American Squire (A Thornchapel and New Camelot Crossover)
The Priest Series:
Priest
Midnight Mass: A Priest Novella
Sinner
Co-Written with Laurelin Paige
Porn Star
Hot Cop
The Markham Hall Series:
The Awakening of Ivy Leavold
The Education of Ivy Leavold
The Punishment of Ivy Leavold
The Reclaiming of Ivy Leavold
The London Lovers:
The Seduction of Molly O’Flaherty
The Persuasion of Molly O’Flaherty
The Wedding of Molly O’Flaherty
About the Author
Sierra Simone is a USA Today bestselling former librarian who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk. She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.
Sign up for her newsletter to be notified of releases, books going on sale, events, and other news!
www.thesierrasimone.com
thesierrasimone@gmail.com
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