Claiming What's Theirs Read online

  He found himself standing and moving toward her. She was so small compared to them. There was no way she was more the five-foot-three and a buck twenty soaking wet. The blankets were pulled up under her chin. The couch may be comfortable, but it certainly wasn’t the best place for someone trying to recuperate. He gripped her behind her knees and behind her shoulders. She weighed hardly anything in his arms, and there was a part of him that grew warm at the knowledge she was in his arms. Shaking his head, he knew his thoughts were ludicrous. He didn’t know this woman, and she was injured. If she knew who and what they really were she wouldn’t want anything to do with them anyway. He needed to keep his distance from her, and he really needed to make sure Deacon did the same. If she had this kind of effect on him, a man who could control the animal inside, he hated to think how Deacon fared. The need to possess her had been written clearly on his brother’s face. Thayer tightened his hold around her at the thought.

  He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and walked to the bed. After laying her on the mattress and making sure was still covered, he stood above her and watched her chest rise and fall. If she were to wake up right now and see him there was no doubt in his mind that she would think he was a creepy bastard. Even he could see the way he acted was out of character for him and Deacon. Shaking his head he forced himself to turn and leave. He contemplated staying beside her bed to make sure she was okay, that she didn’t wake up confused and frightened. That thought was immediately pushed aside because he knew without a doubt he would scare the shit out of her if she woke up in the middle of the night and saw some strange man in her room. No, they would deal with the situation in the morning when both of their heads were clear.

  ****

  Consciousness came to Jessa like hot water starting to boil. The first thing her brain registered was a dull throb in her head. With her body rising to the surface, that throb grew more pronounced. Everything hurt on her. Even breathing had a low hiss falling from her lips. Opening her eyes, she had to blink several times to have the room come into focus. A window to her left showed darkness. The silvery glow filtered through the glass and left a square of color on the ground. She pushed herself up, wincing as her muscles protested at the movement. Pushing away her pain, she thought back to how she had gotten here, wherever here was. A look around the room offered her no information on where she was. A mirrored dresser sat directly in front of the bed. There were three doors in the room, a bathroom, closet, and the exit she presumed. Two of them were to her left, and the third to her right. She slipped from the bed and gritted her teeth as every muscle and bone in her body bitched her out at the movement.

  When her legs were hanging off the bed she looked down at herself and saw she still wore her jeans and sweater. Images of her screaming and then her car skidding out of control slammed into her mind. The last thing she remembered was seeing a huge tree coming at her. After that the world went dark, and now here she was. Someone had found her, miraculously. She owed them her life. Lifting her hand, she felt the bandage wrapped around her forehead. It was so tender right above her right eye, so much that even the lightest touch of her fingers across the bandage had her gasping.

  Even the soles of her feet hurt as she stood and walked toward the door to her right. She glanced around the floor, but didn’t see her shoes anywhere. Griping the handle, she opened the door. Light from a fire caused shadows to dance along the walls. She looked left and then right, but the only thing she could see to her right was a hallway and several closed doors. She turned left toward the firelight. The cold from the hardwood floor seeped through her socks, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. When she rounded the corner she came up short when she saw two very large men standing in front of the fireplace. Their voices were too low for her to make out what they said, but their stances and expressions looked ferocious. As if they sensed her presence their conversation ceased, and they turned and looked at her.

  The sound of her frantic beating heart was the only thing she could hear as she stared at two of the most attractive men she had ever seen. Their bodies were tall and heavily muscled. They looked like fighters, like they could snap a man’s limbs as if they were no more than toothpicks. Both had dark hair and were so similar in appearance there was no doubt they were related. These two men where the ones who rescued her?

  “You’re up.” The one speaking was about an inch shorter than the other and wore glasses. He didn’t state it as a question, but more like he was shocked she conscious. She looked around, expecting to see some women sauntering around. Surely men that were as attractive as they were had girlfriends or wives.

  “Uhm…” She locked her hands together in front of her, not really knowing what to say. Fortunately, the other man spoke before she had to think of a response.

  “How are you feeling?” His eyes flicked to the bandage on her head, and she found herself lifting her fingers to it. She winced and saw him take a step forward before he stopped himself.

  “I-I’ve felt better.” She tried to offer a reassuring smile, although she felt like shit run over twice and knew it probably showed on her face.

  “I’m Thayer Uncia, and this is my brother, Deacon.” The brother with the glasses spoke and offered her a warm smile. The one named Deacon took another step forward, but his brother stopped him with a hand on his thick forearm. Deacon sliced his eyes to Thayer, and she saw his jaw flex before he relaxed his posture and looked back at her.

  Both of their hair was dark, but where Deacon had a faux hawk, Thayer’s hair was swept across his forehead in an almost sophisticated manner. They looked the same, but also so very different. Deacon was so tall and muscular that compared to her he resembled a beast. Thayer was equally as impressive, but he didn’t look like he had the brute strength of his brother, more like the physique of a swimmer.

  They stared at her for several long minutes, and she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. They had just introduced themselves, and here she was checking them out like they needed to be measured for suits. “I’m Jessa Malone.” Thayer smiled at her, and Deacon turned his head, his gaze now on the window, his jaw clenched. Was he upset that she was here? It seemed contradictory given the fact he had asked how she was, but maybe he just wanted to know so she would leave? The way he stood, stiff and brooding, led her to believe that he certainly wasn’t feeling very welcoming with her in his home.

  “Are you in a lot of pain?” She turned her attention to Thayer and saw genuine concern in his expression.

  “I’m sore, but fine, thanks to you … two.” She glanced between him and Deacon, still not knowing what had happened after she crashed into the tree, but knowing these two men had helped her and she owed them her life.

  “I can give you something for the pain if you’re too uncomfortable.” She shook her head before he finished. No, she didn’t want anything to numb what she felt. This was the first time she had felt alive in the last five years. The pain wasn’t even the worst she had ever felt.

  “No, I’m fine, really.” Her head chose that moment to throb painfully, and she gripped her forehead and gasped in pain. A thick arm wrapped around her waist instantly and helped her over to the couch. When she lifted her head she saw it was Deacon who had helped her. He had been so quick to come to her aid. His eyes were a startling blue, pale and so crystal clear they seemed unreal. His face was made up of hard, square planes and full lips. The whole package was strikingly attractive, and she felt herself leaning in. He was off of the couch in a matter of seconds, mumbling something about going for a run, and then he dissapeared. For several long moments she sat there in silence, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. The couch dipped beside her, and she turned to look at a very concerned Thayer staring down at her. He commanded the space, his shoulders so wide they blocked everything behind him. His eyes were the same blue as his brother’s, the color like liquid silver with a splash of aquamarine. The hue hypnotized her.

  She saw his hand lift in her peripher
al vision, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. His fingers skimmed along the edge of the bandage, right at her eyebrow line. Chills raced along her arms at the simple touch. What in the hell was wrong with her? First she checked out his brother, and now she couldn’t stop staring into Thayer’s eyes. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she thought? What was it with these two men, these two strangers who had her drawn to them after only being in their presence for less than ten minutes?

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He pulled his hand away as if she burned him, curling his fingers into his palm and glancing away. He cleared his throat and then stood, walking away from her and into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you’re awake. I gave you pain meds that should have had you sleeping until morning.” She turned on the couch and watched as he went about making her a sandwich from the ingredients he pulled out of the fridge. “Your discomfort probably woke you. That’s not uncommon.” He looked at her and offered her a smile. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

  She shook her head even though he didn’t look at her. “All I remember is my car skidding out of control and then slamming into a tree. Then I woke up here.” He lifted his blue eyes. “Are you a doctor?”

  “No, but I have training as a paramedic. Living out here makes it almost imperative that you have some sort of medical background.” He brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking off a dollop of mayo. She wasn’t even a fan of mayo like that, but watching his lips wrap around his big thumb sent tingles throughout her whole body. Holy hell. What is happening to me? As if he sensed where her thoughts were going, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

  “Anyway, yeah, you were out of it. Deacon was out … running when he found your car. You were out cold, so he brought you back here. I gave you five sutures to the laceration on your head and watched your vitals. You’re very lucky you didn’t have any other serious injuries and that Deacon found you when he did. If you had been out there much longer hypothermia would have set in, and any number of wild animals would have scented out the blood from your cut.” He brought the sandwich over to her along with a glass of milk.

  “I’m lucky he found me when he did.” She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten anything. Picking up the sandwich, she took a bite, acutely aware that Thayer watched her. When she had eaten half of it and couldn’t stomach any more, she set it on the plate and sat back. Thayer handed her the milk, and she thanked him before she drank half of that as well. When she lifted her gaze to his and saw him still watching her with that knowing look, she felt the walls caving in. “I—” Swallowing roughly, she kept his stare as she licked her lips. He focused his eyes on her mouth, and something started humming inside of her. “I think I’d like to go back to bed, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course.” His voice was low. It held a sexy bedroom quality that had her thinking up all kinds of naughty things. She quickly got up and made her way back to the room. Her body still screamed at her to take it easy, but she needed to escape from the sensations and emotions that were heavy and thick back in that living room.

  When the safety of those four walls surrounded her, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. The sight of blood, bruises, and screaming flashed behind her eyes and rang in her ears. Paul’s face took the forefront in her mind, and she snapped her eyes open. She was free from him, free from the verbal, emotional, and physical abuse she suffered at his hands on a daily basis. He would not continue to dictate her life, to control the very air she breathed. She would accept the generosity of these men and then leave. Was she that fucked up in the head that she sought some kind of connection between the first men she came across after leaving Paul? She was a damaged woman who needed to disappear from the world. What she didn’t need was to be attracted to the men who were helping a ruined woman.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and breathed out roughly. She could leave right now, but how in the hell could she do that with no car? She couldn’t even walk without limping and tightening her hands into fists because of the pain. She doubted Deacon even grabbed any of her belongings. She had no money, no clothes, and no transportation. Spearing her hands in her hair, she tugged lightly and groaned. Her life just went from bad to really fucked up.

  Chapter Three

  Thayer heard her bedroom door shut and sagged against the couch. “Shit.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, his eyes trained on the darkened hallway she just disappeared down. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he had never felt the kind of connection with a woman as he did with her. Hell, she was hurt and scared, and here he was thinking all kinds of inappropriate things.

  He didn’t know how long he sat there, but Deacon came through the front door, sweat pouring from his body and his breathing labored. They stared at each other for several long moments, and then Deacon strode down the hall and into his room. Thayer was left alone, with only the sound of the crackling fire to keep him company. He thought back to the conversation he had with Deacon right before Jessa walked in.

  Jessa. Even her name had his body coiling tight.

  Their hushed argument had been about her. The scent Deacon had thrown off when Thayer had mentioned Jessa had been potent. His older brother was trying to stake a claim on a woman who didn’t know them from Adam, Thayer could sense that much. If she knew exactly what they were, what they were capable of, she would run out of there screaming. It didn’t matter that his brother wanted her, because Thayer wanted her, too. That much was clear in the very short time they spent together. It made absolutely no sense, but Thayer knew what he felt, knew that ignoring it would have been the smart and safe thing to do, but that he couldn’t just disregard it, especially where his brother was concerned. Thayer loved him, would give his life for his brother, but there were times Deacon needed to be protected, even from himself.

  The sound of the shower running broke up his thoughts, and he stood. Trying to take his mind off of the situation, he cleaned up the kitchen and then made his way down the hallway toward his room. He stopped in front of her door and found himself closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of green apples permeated his senses, and he forced a purr of pleasure from escaping. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re standing outside her door like a stalker, like you can’t get enough of her.

  Shaking his head at the absurdity of what he felt, he turned and stopped when he saw Deacon standing in his open doorway, a thick towel slung over his arm. For a suspended moment they stared at each other. There was no animosity toward Deacon’s gaze, but there was a deep understanding. Whatever happened within Thayer happened within Deacon as well. It was crazy and unrealistic … and so not going to happen. He would make sure she left before they were able to act on whatever the hell they were feeling. It was safer for everyone that way.

  ****

  The run in the fucking cold-ass weather hadn’t done shit for Deacon or his mood. He wanted to burn off the violent energy that slowly built inside of him over Jessa. Even when he went into town and found a willing female, he had still felt like he was going to snap. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop picturing her full lips that were just pink enough they called out to him like a siren.

  He watched Thayer break their lethal stare and slip into his room. He could smell the arousal his little brother had for Jessa pouring off him like a fucking tidal wave. For some strange reason he felt no jealousy brewing inside of him. The knowledge that Thayer wanted Jessa as much as he did was almost calming. He had never shared a woman with any man, didn’t have the mentality to even contemplate it, but the thought of sharing her with his little brother, the one person he trusted above all others, just seemed right … natural. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. Of course there was no way in hell that would be happening. She was a temporary placement in their life, and getting attached to something that would leave soon was moronic. Keeping his distance sounded like a good fucking idea. That thought had his animal cl
awing for supremacy. The fucker wanted Jessa pretty damn bad, but he didn’t plan on submitting to him. He needed to take control of the man inside. Deacon was no good for her. He was damaged in more ways than one, and he knew he could never have any hope of having a “normal” relationship with any female. The need to control pulsed inside of him. Thayer was another story. His brother was a good male and not scarred on the inside and out. He would have told him to take Jessa, show her the emotions that were clearly written on his face, but Deacon was a selfish bastard and couldn’t form the words to tell him that.

  Shutting his bedroom door he shucked off his clothes and slipped into the bathroom. Steam from the scalding water filled the room and slicked his skin in dewy droplets. The sting of the water felt like needles on his flesh, but he welcomed the discomfort. His dick was hard as steel, and he felt like a filthy asshole because of it. When he had seen her standing in the dimly lit hallway, her hair the color of raven wings, spread out around her shoulders and slightly mussed from sleep, he knew if he didn’t take control now he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from claiming her. He closed his eyes and pictured her as he grabbed his cock. His shaft pulsed in his hand, the need to come driving him to drag his palm up and down the length as he pictured her. Her eyes had been the color of whiskey, like warmed amber. Incredibly long lashes framed those sensuous eyes, drawing him in deeper. They towered over most people, the animal within them making their muscle mass bigger and their height immense. Jessa was smaller than most females, though, and therefore he felt like the damn Hulk next to her. All he wanted to do was draw her into his arms and make sure nothing ever harmed her.