Avalanche of Desire_A contemporary reverse harem romance Read online

  “That’s okay, we can help you get back on the horse, so to speak. It’ll be fun,” he persists.

  “Fun?” Bryce laughs. “I don’t think I’ve heard that word come out of Hudson’s mouth for, well, ever. You’ve certainly done a number on Hud, given he’s willing to give up a day of working for fun. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I can have fun,” Hudson protests, feigning mock upset.

  “Sure, your idea of fun is spending all day at work, then letting your hair down with several beautiful women beneath you,” Bryce jibes.

  “Bryce, man…” Max starts, noticing the look on my face.

  I cover up my reaction with a false smile. “Hey, it’s fine. You don’t owe me anything, but I think I’ll pass on the skiing,” I say tightly, unable to hide the hurt I feel, even though I have no right to feel it.

  “Damn it, Bryce.” Hudson frowns at his brother. I catch his eye, and he starts to say something then stops. What can he say? Clearly, it wasn’t a lie.

  “Louisa…” Bryce calls after me as I leave the room. I try not to feel hurt by the fact Hudson chooses, hell they all choose, to let loose that way. They have a history, these men, and a shed load of women and lots of sex are a huge part of it. I hate that knowing it makes me feel this way. Jealously and doubt settle in my chest as I head into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Whilst I wait for the shower to warm up I grab my toothbrush, squeeze on some toothpaste and clean my teeth. Weirdly, one of my bad habits as a kid was to overclean my teeth whenever I felt upset or unhappy, which was often. It made me feel better, having clean teeth. I don’t know why. I guess I associated bad things with shit teeth. My mum’s were terrible, stained a dark yellowish brown from all the alcohol abuse and smoking fifty cigarettes a day.

  I scrub and scrub them until I feel marginally better, spitting out the excess toothpaste and swilling my mouth with water once I’m done. I look at my reflection in the mirror, studying my face. “What are you playing at, Louisa?” I whisper to myself, then nearly jump out of my skin when I see Bryce staring at me from the doorway.

  “I need to apologise for what I said,” he starts, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

  “What, for telling the truth?” I say, turning around to face him.

  Bryce sighs, scraping a hand over his beard. “No, for being such an insensitive prick.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not a child. You’ve all got a past, a reputation. I get it, you all like women, you’ve had a lot of them.”

  “Yes, maybe we have, but after what you said this morning, what you gave us…” Bryce blows out a frustrated breath. “Look, I’m not someone who’s able to say how I feel without running for the hills. Give me a boardroom full of clients and I can go on forever about business stuff, but when it comes to stuff like this I don’t know where to start.” He walks over to me and I have to arch my neck slightly to look up at him. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like shit, it wasn’t my intention.”

  “What about Hudson?”

  “He’s pissed at me and taking his anger out on the snow.” Bryce pulls a face. “At this rate he’ll clear a path all the way back down to the resort.”

  I sigh, feeling bad I’ve caused friction between the brothers, especially on Christmas day. It had been going so well up until that point. Way to go, Louisa. “I overreacted. Tell Hudson it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” I repeat, echoing my words from earlier. The knot in my stomach is still there, the doubt clinging to me stubbornly. “I’m going to take a shower, do you mind?”

  He doesn’t take the hint or if he does, he ignores it. Instead, Bryce steps closer to me so that I am backed up against the sink, my bottom pressing against the cold porcelain.

  “You’re not fine. What can I do to make you feel better?”

  Love me? The rogue thought enters my head and for a moment I worry I’ve said it out loud. I consider what he’s asking. I can’t expect his love, nor can I expect it from Max or Hudson. Despite everything they’ve said, that’s just a fantasy, unrealistic.

  “I’m not sure there is anything that can fix me,” I say. I don’t mean how I feel in this moment. I mean everything else.

  “Your mum is pretty messed up, eh?”

  “Yes. Messed up, broken, lost. She’s all of those things, but she’s still my mum…”

  Bryce lifts my chin, his hazel eyes staring into mine. “She’s lucky to have you and a fool for not appreciating what a beautiful person you are. I understand what it’s like to feel rejected, worthless. I get it. I’ve felt it too, I still do.” His voice tightens over the words and I wonder what his mother did to him to make him feel as unloved as me. A tear falls from my eye and rolls down my cheek. My ability, it seems, to keep my emotions in check is failing around these men. Bryce catches the lone tear with his finger, then leans close, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine.

  “Tell me what you want, Louisa,” he says against my mouth.

  I wish I could, but I can’t even begin to make sense of what I feel, let alone articulate that to him.

  “It’s why we do it…” Bryce starts filling the silence. He brushes his mouth against mine and I find my heart aching for more of his touch.

  “Do what?”

  “Have sex. When you don’t know what it feels to be loved, you look for the next best thing.”

  “Like now?” I whisper, pressing my hand against his broad chest, holding him back.

  “I want you. I can’t deny that, I won’t. After this morning, being with you is all I’ve thought about. Seeing you wearing my t-shirt, smelling me on you. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted another woman more. All I want to do right now is lift you against this sink and bury myself in you, never coming up for air. You have bewitched me. You’ve bewitched us all.” Bryce’s chest is heaving, his arms are raised, trapping me within them. God, I want him too. I do.

  “What do you want, Louisa?” he repeats.

  I lean forward, pushing against his chest. He steps back, waiting. The tension is intense, it’s difficult to breath. I glance at the shower, then back at Bryce. Oh, what the hell. I let myself go earlier, I can do it again. Right now is for living, feeling. I will deal with the aftermath later.

  “Take a shower with me?” I ask.

  A grin spreads across Bryce’s face. He leans down for a kiss, but I press my fingers against his lips. “But we can’t…” I start, remembering we have no more protection.

  Bryce pulls his t-shirt over his head and kicks off his slacks. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

  His large hands fall to the bottom of my t-shirt, and as he grabs the material his knuckles slide upwards against my skin. The feeling sets off tiny sparks of fire inside of me. I moan out loud.

  “If you make those kinds of noises I might not be able to control myself,” Bryce says, his eyes darkening with desire.

  He throws the t-shirt to the side and pulls me in for a kiss. I feel tiny against his large frame, he is my very own man-mountain and sexy as hell. Our mouths meet, yet this time his kiss is about as tender as I have ever felt. His hands slide through my hair, run over my back and cup my arse cheeks, squeezing them gently. Then he lifts me up and walks me to the shower.

  The water is tantalisingly hot as it runs over our skin, and Bryce’s kisses even more so. I can feel his cock pressing up against me. It is a dangerous position to be in, one slide downwards and all sorts of trouble will follow. I pull back, untangling my legs from his waist, common sense peeking through my lustfulness. Bryce eases me slowly to the ground, presses a gentle kiss against my forehead, then leans over and grabs some body wash. He pours some into his hands and rubs them together.

  “May I?” he asks, waiting for my permission.

  I watch the water fall over his luscious, rock hard body, watch as it slides downwards to where his cock stands to attention. I raise my gaze to his. “Only if I can wash you too,” I say smoothly, surprising myself with my self-assuredness.

 
A low chuckle erupts. “Now that is an offer I can’t refuse.”

  His soapy hands slide over my shoulders first, moving slowly down my arms, massaging in firm circles until they reach my hands. He presses his thumb into my palms then slides his hands back up. I take the opportunity to place my soapy hands over his chest, running my fingers through the coarse hair that I love so much before giving his nipples a gentle tug. His cock twitches at that, and I can’t help but smile at the way his body reacts to my touch. My hands slowly move lower, sliding over the dips and grooves of his stomach muscles, until I hold his cock in my hands. It curves upwards, bold and virile.

  “Louisa,” Bryce says, sucking in a sharp breath. I look up at him, feeling suddenly powerful as I fist my fingers over his cock. I don’t take my eyes off him as I move my hand up and down, my thumb swirling over the engorged tip. He leans over, taking my mouth in his as water pours over us both. Bryce bites on my bottom lip, pushing me back up against the wall, his mouth moving over my face, my neck, sucking on my ear lobe. Low pants come from him as I work my hand quicker whilst the other cups his balls, teasing them gently. He is positioned in such a way that the firm spray of the shower hits the head of his cock. The combined sensation of my hand pumping and my fingers teasing has him slamming his hands against the tiles either side of my head as his body arches, his head tipping back. He calls my name over and over as an orgasm tears through him.

  It takes a few moments for Bryce to come down from his high. When he does, he doesn’t say a word, just presses a gentle kiss against my mouth, then he takes my shoulders and turns me around, so my back is facing him.

  “Damn it, Louisa. I don’t think I have ever come as hard. Now it’s your turn,” he whispers into my ear. Bryce’s begins to massage my shoulders and upper back, easing some of the tension that has gathered there.

  “You have the most beautiful arse, like a ripe peach.” He steps closer, his hands smoothing over my skin before sliding over my bottom. I can feel the coarse hair of his chest tickle against my back. I love the feel of it, of him pressed against me. His warm mouth glides against my neck as his hands trail down my arms. He lifts them up, guiding me to put the flat of my hands against the shower wall. I can feel the firm silk of his cock rest briefly against the crack of my arse before he stands back slightly with a groan. Bryce is still hard, despite his release.

  “Louisa, what are you doing to me?” he says as his hands begin to massage my aching breasts. He pulls my nipples into hard points, twirling them gently between his thumb and fingers. Desire pools within my chest, blooming outwards. I am on fire.

  “Bryce…” I moan.

  He releases me from his teasing, sliding his hands over my rib cage and lower towards the heat of my sex. I am desperate for his touch, I ache for him, wanting nothing more than for him to press his fingers against my clit. Still he teases me as his hands move lower, smoothing the front of my thighs before circling around and cupping my arse.

  “Spread your legs for me, darling,” he says, kneeling behind me.

  I do as he asks, realising I’m pretty much putty in his hands. I know what is coming and I want his mouth pressed against my sweet spot more than anything else right now. One of his large hands grips my hip whilst the other pushes gently against my lower back urging me to bend over. My body follows his demands instinctively.

  As the water pours over my skin, Bryce’s mouth presses against my clit, his tongue swirls there, the pressure just right. I bite out a moan, my fingers curling against the tiles as his lips slide over the sleekness of my opening. Then he licks me firmly, front to back, back to front, repeating the movement over and over, only pausing to press his mouth firmly against my clit or to dip his tongue inside me. My legs begin to shake, as my orgasm builds. He is relentless, he doesn’t allow me a moment to relax, to catch my breath. I am as tight as a drum, wound up with need and want. Then, as though he knows exactly what I need right at the point I need it, Bryce slips two fingers inside me, curling them just at the right spot and I explode with a loud scream as the most intense orgasm rips through me. I ride the wave whilst stars splinter behind my eyelids. My hands slide from the tiles as my legs buckle beneath me. Bryce catches me as I fall, burying his head into my hair as tears roll down my cheeks with the intensity of my orgasm and the new overwhelming emotions I am beginning to feel. I remain like that, curled in his arms at the bottom of the shower, for some time. He doesn’t try to move, he simply cradles me against his chest, the sound of his heart beating loud in my ear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As I pull on a pair of jeans and turtle-neck sweater, I think back on what’s just happened. Sex with past boyfriends had always been about them, not once had they made sure I was satisfied. The orgasms Bryce and I had experienced were intense for both of us, but that isn’t the part that makes my heart ache the most. It’s the way Bryce held me after. No man before the brothers Freed has ever held me that way. All sorts of strange emotions are running though me, emotions that are alien, that I’m not ready to feel. I grab the hairdryer from the side table and tip my head forward, blowing the hot air over the strands that fall in front of my face, trying in vain to distract myself. These are dangerous thoughts. I must protect myself, and yet I keep letting them in. I’m clearly a glutton for punishment.

  “Louisa,” a voice says over the sound of the hair dryer. I almost jump out of my skin. I flick the switch off and turn to find Max staring at me. His cheeks are bright red from being in the cold. “Do you need a hand?” he asks, pointing to the hairdryer.

  “It’s fine. I can do it,” I say.

  He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What I meant to say was, can I do it. Can I dry your hair?”

  I remember what he said about his mum before, that he used to brush her hair for her, that those were his fondest memories when everything else was pain and heartache. For whatever reason, he needs to do this for me. What would it hurt if I let him?

  “Sure,” I say, finally.

  Max takes the dryer from my hands and slides behind me on the edge of the bed, his thighs pressed against the outside of mine. He runs his fingers through my hair as he dries it, making sure that the hot air doesn’t get too close to my skin. Like before he is gentle, his fingers massage my scalp as he dries it. I feel my body relax against him, enjoying the sensation.

  It doesn’t take long until my hair is completely dry. I’m kind of sad about it. It feels nice to have him take care of me this way. Without saying a word, Max flicks off the hairdryer and lays it on the bed, picking up my hairbrush.

  “Is this okay?” he asks.

  “Uh huh,” I mumble as he runs his fingers over my scalp.

  “You have the most beautiful hair, it’s like silk.”

  “Thank you.”

  For a long time, he pulls the brush through my hair, taking his time to get out the knots. A strange kind of tension fills the air. It is not sexual, more like something bonding between us. I don’t know, I can’t explain it.

  “Believe it or not, I’m pretty good at a French plait. Would you mind if…”

  “Sure,” I say quickly. To be perfectly honest, I want to explore what is happening and don’t want to break the spell that seems to have settled over us both.

  Max’s fingers work their way expertly through my hair. He gathers a small section at the top, then works his way down, pulling up strands and plaiting them. Eventually his fingers trail over the nape of my neck.

  “Do you have a band?” he asks.

  “Yes, in my wash bag. I’ll grab one.”

  “It’s okay, let me.” Max hands me the end of my hair to hold onto. Then he clambers off the bed and grabs a hairband. I look up at him as he approaches. He is smiling happily as he ties the band over the end of my hair.

  “Not bad, even if I do say so myself,” he grins, pulling me up. He presses a sweet kiss against my lips and pulls me in for a hug. He holds me there for some time.

  “Thank you,” he says, befo
re pulling away.

  “For what?”

  “For being you, for letting us in. I’ve got a good life now. It’s even better now you’re in it.”

  “I don’t know what to say…” My voice trails off.

  “You don’t need to say anything. Just know you’ve made quite an impact on us all. Come on, Hud and Bryce want to play some games. Believe me you don’t want to miss this.”

  “Games? What kind of games?” My mind goes to a naughty place, and my cheeks flush a little at the thought.

  Max bursts out laughing. “Not those kind of games, Icy. I’m talking about Monopoly, Cluedo. If you’re lucky, they might even insist on Charades. Although, I don’t think they’d take much persuading to play the games you’re thinking,” he says with a wink.

  “Ha ha,” I laugh.

  Max takes my hand and pulls me around the bed and out of the room.

  “You’re such a cheat!” Bryce complains, giving Hudson a look of disgust. “I knew we should have given Louisa the job of banker. You’ve been nicking money, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hudson responds, feigning innocence. “Just because I’m a better business man than you, there’s no need to cast aspersions.”

  “Erm, Hudson, Bryce is right, you’ve been pilfering money since the start,” I say, leaning behind him and pulling a wad of bank notes from his back pocket. I wave them in the air.

  Hudson snatches the money from me with a laugh.

  “You got me.”

  “Whaaaat!” Max throws his hands up in the air in mock disgust. “The banker wanker strikes again.”

  “Banker wanker?” I giggle. I’ve never heard that turn of phrase before and it’s made even funnier hearing Max say it about Hudson. “You guys are adorable,” I say, before I can stop myself.

  “Adorable, eh? I’m not sure adorable is the best adjective to describe my brother. Frankly, wanker suits him better,” Bryce grumbles.

  “Oy, sore loser, enough of the wanker,” Hudson says, chucking the money at Bryce. The notes flutter to the floor.