A.O.E.M.: Dinner For Three
Camille Anthony

  

 All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Camille Anthony

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

  

 ISBN 1-59596-208-5
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Editor: Sheri Ross Carucci
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  



  

 This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  

  

  

 Prologue

  

 The sorcerer looked up from his packing, his bushy white beard almost obscuring his wary smile. “Gentlemen, you just caught me. One more day and I would have been gone!”

 “Gone? Slunk away, more like!”

 “You were right, Jonathan! He was planning to pull a funk and leave us suffering this travesty of a life!”

 His eyebrows rose at the anger he heard in their voices. “To what do I owe this rudeness? The last I knew, you were happily embarked upon a lifetime of eternal existence. Isn’t that what you asked for? ‘The freedom from worrying over our imminent death,’ is how you put it, I believe.”

 Both men spoke at once, their words tumbling over themselves.

 “We didn’t want this ! We didn’t ask to be turned into a Vampire and a Werewolf! This isn’t what we sought when we asked for the surety of long life.”

 “We’re chefs, damn it! How the hell can I run a restaurant or season a dish when I’m on a liquid diet?”

 “All we wanted was a normal life, eventually a wife and children.”

 The sorcerer crossed his arms and stared at the two tall men confronting him. He was impressed by their dogged determination in locating him again. After all, he hadn’t made it easy this time around. “You did not seek normalcy. No normal man has the assurance of life. They all roll the dice and more times than not, roll craps.”

 “What you gave us was so far away from normal, the two cannot be compared! You cheated us!”

 A resigned sigh lifted the slight chest of the elderly magicker. “Jonathan Jason Corelli, how have you lived this many years and still not learned who and what you are?”

 Black hair, golden eyes, broad shoulders and long lean limbs -- the twins were more than identical, more than mirror images of the other. They were one. And they didn’t know it.

 “Your mother, whom I once knew and loved -- she’s why I granted your first petition, by the way -- tried to tell you the truth. Your father wouldn’t listen and allowed the doctors to perform that obscene operation upon you. Now, it appears you are as stubborn as he.”

 “Our mother,” one twin snarled, “hasn’t been seen since our tenth birthday.”

 “If we’d known you knew her, we’d have had nothing to do with you.”

 “Oh, you think to pick and choose between sorcerers, then? You know so many of us? Foolish mortal! You play with that which you do not know and cannot comprehend!”

 “Please, just take the curses back.”

 “ Curses?” The sorcerer couldn’t believe the pig-headedness of the split person before him. “I granted you a boon. If cursed you be, it is of your own making. Still, you are not satisfied. Therefore, I will do this one thing for you… I will give you a spell to eat. When you partake of it, say the couplet I will teach you. No longer will you, Jonathan, be forced to live a life in darkness. As for you, Jason, the moon will no longer rule over your flesh.”

 He made them the potion and jotted the words down on a scrap of paper. The two read the poem and eyed the twin bottles askance. “Can it be this simple?” the Werewolf asked.

 “Of course not,” the mage laughed, glad to see they were not as simple as he had begun to fear. Perhaps they would solve the riddle and win their freedom. “To truly end what you deem your curse, you must find the one person who completes you.”

 “Is there such a woman in the world, who could mate with the two of us? If she exists, where would we ever find a woman willing to love a Werewolf and a Vampire and accept us both as husbands?” The gold of Jason’s eyes shimmered with the tears he would not allow to fall.

 “Oh, she exists, all right. She is almost ready for you.”

 “I suppose,” snarled the Vampire, his face twisted in a sneer, “you’ll have some obscure, arcane excuse for not being able to tell us where we should look for such a paragon.”

 “On the contrary, I can tell you exactly where you need to be.”

 It took the twins a moment to realize he didn’t plan to tell them a thing.

 “Well?” Jason asked finally.

 “Well… what?” the sorcerer echoed, a wisp of playfulness causing him to tease the uptight duo.

 “I thought you were going to tell us where we need to be.”

 “Actually, I said I could tell you, not that I would.”

 “I’m going to kill him, Jason!” The Vampire flashed fangs and rushed at the older man.

 “I think not, young firebrand.” A waved hand, a word of power rang out. Jonathan froze in place, one foot in the air, clawed hands outstretched toward prey he would never reach.

 “No!” Jason’s cry of denial rose above the spires of the mountain. “Release him!”

 “In due time…” Tired of dealing with the two hotheads, he decided to end this current interaction. He had places to go and people to see. “Listen to me. I will give you the information you want in exchange for permission…”

 Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve tricked us before. How do we know you won’t do so, again?”

 The sorcerer shrugged. “I have not tricked you. You simply didn’t pay strict attention to the actual wording of your request or the exact interpretation I used in granting it.” He waved away Jason’s sputtered retort. “No matter. As of today, I am retired. The only thing I wish of you is permission to court your mother.”

 “What?” Jonathan’s bellow penetrated the bubble of stasis erected around him.

 Jason’s voice was ice cold when he answered. “Our mother is a free agent. Father divorced her years ago in absentia. You don’t need our permission or approval.”

 “Courtesy and tradition demand it.” The wise man shook his head. “What is the youth of today coming to? Oh well, a bargain is a bargain. When the time is right, you will find your mate on Chimera Island.”

  

  

  

 The Sorcerer’s Couplets

  

 Vampire :

 The darkness within shall hold no sway;

 You’ll walk, henceforth, in the light of day.

 Werewolf :

 You need no longer heed Moon’s call;

 For during her reign you’ll walk man-tall.

  

  

  

 Chapter One

  

 Chimera.

  

 Known as the Island of Forbidden Pleasures, it is an island in the midst of the Bermuda Triangle. It is a magical place where fantasies and the wildest of dreams come true.

  

 Who hasn’t received one of those notices in the mail, one of those, “You have won an all expenses paid week at…” announcements? They usually go directly to the trash, but the people who are fortunate enough to receive invitations to Chimera don’t throw them away.

  

 If they receive it, they come… or send others in their place. The invitation is never lost, never ignored.

  

 Driven by some unseen attraction, some power beyond belief, they leave their boring jobs, fruitless searches for decent dates, the mundane world of nine-to-five for a world of imagination, a world of dreams, of potential… illusions.

  

 … And reach the world of Chimera.

  

 What they don’t know is that they have entered the realm of the Agency of Extraordinary Mates. Not your average dating service… this one caters to creatures of the ether… to Weres and Vampires, Elves, Faeries, Satyrs, Incubi, and much more.

 It is a world of fantasy, of lust and love, but most of all, it is a world of dreams-come-true for the lucky few who arrive on the pristine shores of…

  

 Chimera…

  

 “Well, whaddya think?” Puck popped the thick wad of bubblegum and peeled it off his lips. “Pretty good, huh?”

 “I like the basic concept. Seems a little too romanticized for me, though. Tighten it up and drop some of those ellipses and we can use it as the magazine promo blurb as well as the lead-in on the website.”

 The director absently scribbled a note on her desk calendar. She glanced up and frowned, noting her assistant hadn’t moved. “Today would be nice, Puck. Move your ass and get us some lunch ordered in.”

 The sprite growled an unrepeatable curse. “Why are we working through lunch, again, M? Everyone around us is finding someone to fuck and we’re stuck working.”

 M breathed out a gentle sigh. “Magic and love both require hands-on nurturing. It’s a thankless job, but someone has to do it. Now stop whining and bring me the Sphinx’s file. It’s gonna be hell finding her a mate…”

  

 Close to quitting time

  

 “Ma’am, the Corelli brothers are here requesting a meeting.”

 The director of the Agency of Extraordinary Mates swiveled about to face her aide, eyebrows winging up in rare surprise. “ So soon? How extraordinary! Did we anticipate their coming to us this early?”

 Her assistant shook his head.

 Brows puckered into a frown, she pulled a calendar pad toward her and scratched a line through one notation. Flipping back through the pages, she scribbled in a new directive. “Well, there you are, Puck. Just goes to show even the best pre-cogs can be tripped up when love or lust enters the equation.”

 Pushing a youthful lock of hair off her ageless forehead, the director leaned back in her chair and twined her fingers into a steeple. “All right, let’s have a look at their file before we have them come back.”

 Puck floated the hefty manila folder over to the director’s desk. It settled gently, the cover folding back to reveal a thick sheaf of papers nestled between. A pair of reading glasses materialized on the top page.

 “Can I get a coffee, babe?” The director held her left hand out as she perched the compact glasses on her nose. She proceeded to scan the pages before her. A steaming cup appeared, level with her hand, and she curled her fingers around the handle as it gained weight. A grateful smile curved her lips. “Thank you, my dear.”

 “Coffee this late in the day is bad for you.”

 “Thank you, Doctor Phil.”

 “Aging yourself, M.” Puck perched on the edge of the desk, his white-blond hair floating in a magical breeze. “The sorcerer really played a head game on those two.”

 The director’s gaze flashed up to meet her assistant’s. His crystalline blue eyes sparkled with mischievous intent. Her mouth tightened in disapproval. “Yes, he did. His actions were unscrupulous and cruel. It has taken the brothers a long time to recover from his irresponsible actions.”

 Puck rocked back, leaned his hands on a non-existing support as his feet left the floor. He folded his legs Indian style and propped his chin on one hand, floating on thin air. “How long do you think it’ll take them to realize what he really did for them?”

 “I haven’t looked into it that far. However, it seems to me without intervention they’ll likely never stumble over the truth.”

 Dancing a lilting jig about the office, the prankster giggled. “Consider the benefit to Chimera, though, if they never do. We’ve gained the services of two studly chefs who’ve certainly improved the quality of the food around here. Then too, there are all those ladies to think of -- what shall they do without the sexual smorgasbords the two brothers have been providing?”

 The director set her cup on the desk and folded her hands across her belly. Her left forefinger tapped up and down. “If I thought for one moment that you had something to do with that original sorry situation…” Her words trailed off, her tone questioning.

 “You’d what? Zap me?” Puck threw back his head and chortled. “Oh, fiddle-di-di, M! You’d best remember how hectic it gets around here without an assistant. Besides, I can categorically state I had absolutely nothing to do with the Corelli brothers and their quest for immortality.”

 “Hmmm…” The director eyed her co-worker with something less than belief. Sighing, she tilted her chair back and rocked a bit, contemplating her next moves. Finally, she straightened her chair, drew it up to the desk and splayed both hands flat on the thick report. “Puck, uncross your lying fingers and go get the guys. I might as well settle this issue before it gets out of hand. The magical culinary feats those two create are part of what makes this place special. We don’t want to upset the apple cart.”

 Puck chuckled as he obediently brought his hand out from behind his back, uncrossing his fingers before showing them to M. “We could always make apple tarts.”

 One skeptically raised eyebrow was his only answer.

 The jokester floated to the door. “Some of us look damn good in an apron, M. Maybe it’s time I reminded you of that -- and other things.” When he reached the door, he turned and faced the director. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, replaced by a frilly red apron blazoned across the front with the slogan: Cooks like it hot !

 He turned, presenting his back to her, and M gasped, choking on laughter. The apron was all he wore. Nothing impeded her appreciative view of the long, lean lines of his supple back. His firm, full buttocks -- a woman’s handful -- flexed and shifted as he made his slow, deliberate way to the door. The shadowy outline of more interesting things moved below his waist.

 Taking a page out of her assistant’s book, M sent a mischievous tendril of magic shooting out. Spectral fingers fluttered between Puck’s legs, tickled his balls as an imaginary hand squeezed his cock, bringing it to instant, hard rigidity.

 A startled yelp broke from Puck’s lips. The slender male whipped around to confront her, blue eyes no longer twinkling, but gone incandescent with lust. “Hhmm! You’re not too bad a cook yourself, my M. You’ve certainly raised the temperature and got my juices boiling!”

 A satisfied smile curved M’s lips. “Turn it down to a simmer. It can steep while we deal with our chefs.”

 “You’re on, my dear. No, wait! It’s my turn to be ‘on’ this time.”

 M snorted, shuffling papers. “You wish .”

  

 Five minutes later, Puck returned to the director’s office, ushering in one man and a wolf. “The Corelli brothers to see you, M.”

 Thick, unruly black hair, tall, lean physique -- the man had golden eyes set between long sooty lashes. The wolf -- a head taller than the man’s waist -- was covered in dense black fur that curled like a cocker spaniel. His eyes were eerily like his brother’s; golden and full of intelligence. M stood up and extended her hand. “Good morning, Jonathan.” She nodded at the wolf. “Jason.”

 The man shook hands briefly, his perfunctory smile not broad enough to reveal his fangs. “Madam Director.”

 Jason woofed and offered one paw in greeting. M bit back a grin as she reached down to shake it. “I see you are the more personable brother.” Her smile softened. “While you make a remarkable wolf, I think we’ll have a better chance to communicate if you take Human form during the course of this interview. Puck, please take Jason to the lounge and see he has a set of clothes for after his change.”

 A wicked grin widening his mouth, Puck snapped his fingers and chanted, “Here, doggie, doggie, doggie!”

 Growling, the wolf’s head whipped around, targeting the teasing Sidhe, but it was the Vampire’s hissed warning that wiped the smile off the assistant’s face. “Sorry!” he groused. “Some folks just can’t take a joke.”

 The director clicked her tongue against her teeth and sighed in disgust. Giving her resident pain-in-the-ass a meaningful glare, she reminded him of items on the back of the stove. “Puck, you’re cooling things down, here.”

 She looked to the Corelli brothers, an apologetic expression on her face. “I apologize for my assistant’s… puckish sense of humor. Pay him no mind. He honestly can’t help it.” Her dark brown gaze snagged Jason. “The sooner you go change, the sooner you can get back and we can begin processing your request.”

 With an assenting woof, the wolf padded toward the door and a subdued Puck. He made his less than friendly sentiments known with a rumbling growl as he passed the momentarily cowed and silent Fae.

 Left behind, Jonathan was a bit more verbal about his displeasure. “Your assistant likes to joke around too much. You might want to tell him to watch what he eats for the next few days, ma’am.”

 “Oh, come now, Jonathan. Would you punish a child? As a member of one of the long-lived races, Puck may exhibit physical maturity and age, but his mental development more closely corresponds to that of a randy eighteen-year-old prankster.”

 The Vampire’s expression tightened. “My brother must live half his life as an animal, ma’am. The last thing he needs is to be teased about it.”

 “From what I can see, Jason is more at ease with his situation than you are with yours.”

 Muttering a low expletive, Jonathan Corelli paced the office, his impatient strides making the huge space seem narrow and confined. Running his hands through his midnight hair, inadvertently disrupting the ordered curls, he tugged at the thick strands, long elegant fingers clenching in agitation. “Hell, no, I’m not at ease with my situation. I’m a chef, damn it, and the only way I can taste food now is through my mental link with Jason. I’m on a perpetual liquid diet and every once in a while, I still catch my bottom lip with these gawd-awful fangs.”

 He shot her a resentful glare from under thick lashes. “Have you any idea how repulsive it is for me to have to drink blood to survive?”

 “The upside to that is the sorcerer subsequently made you a day-walker. You don’t have to sleep during the day and sunlight won’t kill or incapacitate you. You don’t even have to take your blood on the hoof, as it were. Finally, you will live an almost eternal lifespan. Wasn’t that what the two of you went searching for?”

 Jonathan’s angry reply came quickly. “We didn’t search for this !” He indicated his supernaturally strong body. Opening his mouth, he pointed to his sharp fangs. “We wanted to live without the fear of death constantly hanging over us! We never wanted to become the harbingers of death, the monsters in a modern Fairytale. That’s what the sorcerer made us -- monsters -- unnatural, inhuman monsters. The down side is, regardless of all the things you listed as a plus, I can’t ever do the one thing that is most important to me. I can’t father a child. I can’t even fuck a woman without lusting for her blood, as well.” His words trailed off as he fisted his hands and visibly fought his anger.

 M gazed at him, struck by his deep air of sorrow. He had no idea how beautiful he and his brother were, how Elementally magnetic. Her voice, when she spoke, was even and calm. She tried to put all the sincerity of her feelings in her words. “For that, I am truly sorry for you. If I could, I would reverse the spells that made your brother and you victims of this dual curse. Unfortunately, I cannot and the sorcerer is beyond our reach. He has retired to a galaxy in which I have no jurisdiction.”

 A noise at the door announced Puck and Jason’s return before she could elaborate further on the sorcerer’s present whereabouts, and she turned to watch the wolf-turned-man approach her.

 Dressed in casual gray slacks and a half-buttoned cream linen shirt, Jason Corelli sauntered into the office. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, a smile wreathing his face, deepening the dimple in his left cheek, he was handsome enough to take any female’s breath away.

 From the top of his head covered in black silky curls to the bottoms of his slim, elegant feet, he was the identical image of his brother, yet M had no difficulty telling them apart. After a deep scrutiny, she finally realized what the difference was. The expression in Jason’s golden gaze differed from that of his elder brother. Both of the handsome, six feet four inch males might have been identical, but Jason’s eyes still held hope and warmth.

 “Welcome back, Jason. Come join us and let’s get down to business.”

 She hid a smile as Jason and Jonathan exchanged a look of silent communication. Then, in unison, they hitched the material at the knees of their slacks, sat down and crossed their legs. As if they’d rehearsed the practiced moves, each ended by leaning his right elbow on the arm of their chair and resting his chin on his palm.

 M rocked back in her chair. “So, gentlemen… what business do you seek my help with?”

 Jonathan shifted in his seat, his agitation betraying his uneasiness with the question. Jason smiled and nodded. “We were told you could find us a wife.”

 M’s eyebrows rose. She was used to everything under the sun, but the twins managed to surprise her with their request. “ Awife -- as in one -- for both of you?”

 Jonathan stiffened, coming upright in his chair. “One, only. You are aware that we were once Siamese twins, joined at the back.”

 “Yes, I am. Your file is complete and up-to-date.”

 Jason touched his brother’s arm, his hand there and gone in a fleeting grip that imparted calmness, urged control. “All our lives, we’ve shared everything. We’re telepathic with each other and so close that if Jon is attracted to a woman, I find myself attracted, too. We’re not mirror twins, but exact duplicates. In fact, the sorcerer claimed we were one soul -- literally one person -- separated into two bodies.”

 Jonathan took over the narrative. “The sorcerer said she was almost ready. All we know is that she’s supposed to end up here, and that means your agency can find her.”

 “Yes!” Jason cut in. “We have a list of attributes we’d like her to have, if possible. We want a woman who will be good mother material. We don’t want a stick woman… she must have some flesh on her. We’d like her to be interested in our careers, what we do. Mostly, though, we want her to be big-hearted enough to accept both of us as her husbands.”

 Jonathan again spoke. “She has to be adventurous, inquisitive -- someone who can take what and who we are in stride. Someone used to thinking outside the box of normalcy.”

 When Jason reached out and touched his brother again, M realized he made a habit of it, as if they needed to be in contact every so often to remain centered.

 “Jon cannot father a child, but I can. Any child I father will be both of ours. We want a woman who wouldn’t mind having her children call both of us father.”

 M regarded both brothers from across her wide desk, hands clasped together resting on the marble top. “You don’t want much, do you?” She sighed. “Your circumstance is a little different from what we usually cater to.”

 The brothers began protesting and she held up a hand, silencing their arguments. “I haven’t said we cannot do it. However, we have rules here on Chimera -- rules that must be obeyed even in situations like these, but we’ll get to those in a moment. First, let’s talk fees.

 “Normally, for our standard fee, we offer a potential mate one week of discovery. Should a match occur, the applicant pays an agreed upon fee in barter or money. In your case, I feel we’ll need to modify our procedure somewhat.”

 Jonathan leaned forward in his seat, his voice hard as he addressed the director. “Name your price. We’ll pay any amount.”

 M rested her shoulders against the high back of her leather chair and rotated her neck, working out the kinks. “Oh, we have no need of money from you. Since there are two of you, your prospective bride will require two weeks in which to get to know you. Though the candidate chosen will be as compatible and congenial with both of you as possible, you may find yourselves not satisfied with our choice. In that case, the agreement is not binding.”

 Puck interjected there, his voice earnest. “We have never had a client dissatisfied with our choice for them.”

 “I am simply stating all the options and possibilities, Puck,” M soothed. “Speaking of which, a stipulation we insist on is your prospective bride must be told the entire truth of your existence before any wedding will be allowed to take place. If she rejects your suit, she must be allowed to return to the mainland without hindrance or threat. Should that be the case, we will, of course, reconfigure her memories.”

 Jason fidgeted in his chair. This time, it was Jonathan who reached out to calm his brother. “If we must disclose everything to her, two weeks does not seem like a lot of time.”

 “You’d be surprised how the air on Chimera fosters romance in a woman’s soul,” Puck drawled, looking at his sharp fingernails. “Love and flowers bloom in abundance around here.”

 Jonathan thought about that. After a speaking glance exchanged with Jason, he nodded sharply. “We are in agreement, so far. You have yet to name a price.”

 “We want you to take over management of all the restaurants on the island. This is the proposed contract.” She passed over a form in triplicate. “This version lists the price for the deluxe spouse package, which includes an automatic upgrade to the lifespan of the spouse.”

 The brothers scooted closer to the desk and pored over the contract. Jason looked up. “That’s a long time. We’ll need to remain on Chimera until the contract is finished.”

 M shrugged. “That’s the price for our service. Sign it only if you find it fair.”

 “How badly do you want this, Jas?” Jonathan asked, quirking an eyebrow at his younger twin.

 A sigh lifted Jason’s impressive chest. “The wolf calls more strongly every day. I need someone to help me regain my humanity. I want a mate as badly as you do… if not more. Go ahead and sign the damn thing. After all, we have forever.” He grinned. “We’ll have free room and board for the length of the contract.”

 Nodding, Jonathan reached for the quill and signed his signature at the bottom. He passed the pen to Jason, who scribbled on the line beside his brother. Together, they slid the completed contract back to the director.

 M smiled as she tucked the form into the flap of the twins’ portfolio and then flipped through several more pages of the men’s file before glancing back up at them.

 She’d seen many males in her long life -- males representing the best of their races and species. In her opinion, the sheer masculine beauty of the Corelli brothers ranked them right near the top. There would be no problem supplying a mate for either one of them. The tricky part would be finding someone capable of loving both of them, equally.

 M thrilled at the challenge. This was what she did… what she excelled at doing. Magic alone didn’t supply the mates needed. It took insight and intuition as well as a hefty dose of common sense. It took her unique talents and foresight. She couldn’t wait to get started.

 “As I informed Puck earlier, the two of you have managed to anticipate your pre-cogged application date by several millennia. It may take us a little while to procure the best candidate for you. However, have no doubt we shall succeed. We are, after all, in the business of obtaining extraordinary mates for our extraordinary clients. We have never failed to deliver.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Two

  

 Michelle Rios turned the knob to her office door and almost strained her wrist as her shoulder and then the rest of her plus-sized body slammed into the still-closed solid wood panel.

 “What the hell?” She glanced down, tried the knob again, unwilling to believe it wouldn’t open under her determined assault. “I so don’t have time for this! Garnette, my office door is locked… or stuck. Call maintenance and --” She broke off as the facts slowly percolated through the morning sludge that was her brain, pre-coffee.

 Her secretary cringed and tried to slide under her desk.

 “Don’t bother trying to hide. I know you had something to do with this door being locked.”

 Straightening up from her ineffective slouch, Garnette lifted her chin and surreptitiously pressed the intercom button, summoning help. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chelle. I didn’t lock your door.”

 Michelle eyed her long-time secretary and friend with a suspicious glare. “Did you just press the intercom? Damn it to hell, you sent for the posse, didn’t you?”

 Garnette’s blank expression conveyed the depth of her betrayal. Chelle slammed her packages down on the occasional table beside her office door, stalked over to the other woman’s desk and had to cross her arms to keep from choking the slighter woman. Her eyes narrowed into threatening slits. “Judas!”

 The tip-tapping sound of two pairs of stiletto heels fast approaching on the ceramic tile flooring of the hallway drew Chelle’s resigned gaze toward the outer office door. Her shoulders slumped. “You told them! After I begged you to keep quiet, you had to blab! You yellow-bellied traitor, I am going to make you so sorry --!”

 Garnette’s eyes teared up, but her mouth tightened. “You gave me no choice. We knew, left to your own devices, you’d ignore the doctor’s advice. And just look…” she flung out a hand, indicating her clearly present boss, “here you are.”

 Ignoring the doctor gambit, Chelle went for the main point. “You work for me , damn it. You’re supposed to follow orders. I ordered you to keep your mouth shut.”

 “Yeah, I work for you.” The secretary stood up and planted her fists on her bony hips. “Unlike my former employers, I actually like and care for you, so you’ll excuse me if I do all I can to make sure you don’t keel over with a sudden case of death.”

 When Chelle grimaced and flinched back, Garnette’s voice softened. “Look at you, honey. Your clothes are hanging on you. The bags under your eyes could masquerade as airline carry-on luggage and judging by the tic pounding in your forehead, your blood pressure must still be sky-high.”

 Do I really look that bad? Chelle risked a sneaky glance at the large ornate mirror decorating the office wall. Her shoulder length cinnamon-plum hair, held back with a simple tie, framed a face that would never launch ships. High cheekbones and a long wide nose balanced her full, pouty lips. Her dark tan complexion appeared sallow and her large, dark brown eyes looked bruised and haunted…

 All right, so she did look bad, but that was just because she’d had a lousy weekend followed by the most hectic workweek since the company had launched Stellar Raiders II. “It isn’t like I had a heart attack or anything!”

 Garnette refused to back down. “The doctor said your blood pressure was so high, you were one breath away from a massive stroke! A stroke could leave you alive in a dead body. A heart attack might actually be better for you. At least dead is not suffering and incapacitated, unable to do anything on your own.”

 “Okay, maybe I’ve lost some much-needed-to-lose weight -- which is not a bad thing, by the way -- and yes, my eyes are bagging. I’ll give you that. However, I plan to take it easy today. I promise I won’t overdo.” She stopped and huffed, planted her hands on her ample hips when she saw her words were getting her nowhere. “Girlfriend, I can’t believe you’ve reduced me to begging for a chance to work!”

 Garnette crossed her arms and straightened to her full five feet nothing height. “No way.”

 Michelle’s expression hardened. “Okay, it’s on!”

 Leaning one hand on the receptionist’s desk, she tugged off first one shoe and then the other, tossing them into the far corner. Putting up her fists, she began weaving and bobbing, moving her hips and shoulders in the classic Apollo Creed moves. “I appreciate why you feel you have to get in between me and my job, but you are gonna let me into my own office or you’re going down!”

 Garnette raised her eyebrows, narrowed her eyes and brought her own scrawny fists up to her concave chest. “I’m ready to take you on where this is concerned.” Glancing over her boss and friend’s shoulder, she suddenly relaxed and let her hands fall to her sides. “But, I don’t think I’ll have to do that. Look behind you.” Pointing to the doorway, she gave her boss an oily grin and threw her an ‘I-bet-you-weren’t-ready-for-this’ look. “The cavalry has arrived.”

 “Michelle Analise Rios! What do you think you’re doing?”

 She froze. Oh, oh, I’m in trouble now. Jenna only uses that tone when she’s pissed beyond all get out . Clearing her throat and lowering her fists, Michelle turned to confront her two business partners and sometime friends standing in the open doorway. “I think I’m trying to get into my locked office. I think I just might whip both your asses for putting Garnette up to this. Don’t even imagine I don’t know who’s behind this asinine stunt.” She went over and jiggled the handle, frowning ferociously. “I have too much work to do to waste time playing with you three.”

 “Good! Glad to hear that!” Roberta Wilson leaned against the door, her long blond hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. “Michelle, we are not playing. We’ve spoken to your doctor, and have decided to take his warnings about your health seriously.”

 “Damn straight, we have!” Jenna agreed, scowling at her cousin. She straightened up, firmed her jaw and delivered the coup de grace. “In fact, I’ve called Mom and asked for her help. After I told her you were trying to kill yourself, she promised to get here on the afternoon train.”

 Chelle gasped in outrage. She stared at the woman who was like a sister to her, angry disbelief burning within. “Jenalva Bernadette Rios, you’re a black-hearted bitch! How dare you sic Aunt Marnie on me? I can’t believe what you’ve done!”

 Her cousin flipped a dark lock of hair out of her face, her expression stubbornly unrepentant. “Bobbie and I did what we had to do. This is your own fault. Since we figured there was very little chance of your listening to reason, we had no other choice than to bring out the big guns.”

 Chelle groaned. “Aunt Marnie is going to move in with me! She’ll pinch my cheeks and tell me I need to regain my weight. Then, she’ll cook all kinds of fattening foods and force me to eat all of it. Oh, God! You realize she’ll call Uncle Geraldo every night and cry because she’s separated from her greatest love and can’t sleep?”

 Garnette looked suitably impressed. “Damn! I’d definitely call pulling in Aunt Marnie bringing out the big guns, all right!”

 Chelle nodded glumly. “That’s not the worst. You don’t know how bad Jenna’s parents are. They’re true lovebirds and never could stand to be apart from each other. Three days after Aunt Marnie arrives, Uncle Geraldo will show up on my doorstep with an overnight bag and Aunt Marnie’s stuffed teddy bear. They’ll disappear into my guest room and all I’ll hear for the rest of the night and the next two days is the bed springs squeaking and their groans and cries…” She broke off and glared around the room at the three women threatening her peace of mind.

 “Do you know how embarrassing it is listening to your aunt and uncle in the guest room, sliding around on your cheap cotton percale sheets, making wild monkey love? Ugh, ugh, ugh!” She jabbed a finger toward the back of her throat with short choppy motions, using the popular sign for gagging. “There’s nothing worse than having the next best thing to your parents bopping like bunnies on the other side of thin walls, unless it’s knowing they’re having better sex than you’ve ever had in all your miserable, sorry life.”

 Michelle’s bottom lip quivered before she could tighten it enough to stop the telltale sign. Maybe there was something to what that quack had been spouting. She did feel tired and easily upset. She was no crybaby, but she sure wanted to cry right this minute and that certainly was not like her usual hard-as-nails behavior.

 Fighting to keep back the threatening tears, Chelle wiped her eyes and looked up just in time to catch her two former friends and employee smirking at their cleverness and slapping high fives on each other as they congratulated themselves on the success of their planning. A speaking glance passed between the three cohorts and Chelle frowned, wondering what the traitors were up to.

 Roberta pursed her lips. “You know, Chelle, there is a way you can avoid all this.”

 “There is?” She perked up. “I’m all ears. Tell me how!”

 Looking a little discomfited, the tall lanky woman pulled out a crumpled letter. “While you were at the hospital, we took the liberty of going through your mail.”

 Chelle eyed the letter in her friend’s hand with a frown. She recognized that envelope. “More like you went through the trash. I’m sure I’d thrown that piece of junk away.”

 “See, that’s where you’re wrong! It’s not junk. It’s an award letter. One offering you a two-week all-expenses-paid vacation on a tropical resort.”

 Chelle heaved a sigh. How many times had she dealt with situations like this? Roberta and Jenna were too impulsive, too trusting. She was the group skeptic, the one who had to test everything, try all avenues. She never accepted any advertisement at face value.

 “Let me see that letter.”

 Bobbie handed it over. In a sing-song voice, Chelle began to read. “Congratulations, Michelle! You’ve won an all-expenses-paid two week vacation on beautiful Chimera Island.”

 She looked up. “Who told them they could call me by my first name?” She glanced back at the letter and continued. “Located in the geographical center of the Bermuda Triangle, Chimera Island offers both mystery and natural beauty beyond compare.”

 “Okay, see… how do you determine the geographical center of a non-existent place? And Chimera? Even the name is made up. It’s from Greek mythology.”

 Garnette grabbed her hair at the sides of her head and snarled. “Would you get on with the reading and save the comments for later?”

 “All right, but I was just trying to point out how hokey this letter is.”

 “READ!”

 “Sheesh, keep your panties on.” Chelle gave the letter a shake and held it out a ways to allow her eyes to adjust to the smallish writing. Her glasses prescription was old and she needed bifocals, but her hectic work schedule took up all her time. She never quite got around to making an appointment to take an eye exam and be fitted for new glasses. She didn’t much care -- her old ones were working just fine. When she wanted to read something close up, she simply took them off. No problem.

 “Only the most adventurous traveler is welcome on Chimera, and we’ve determined that’s you, Michelle Rios.” Michelle groaned and rolled her eyes. “Give me a break!” She tossed the letter on the desk. “Now that’s the limit, girls. When and how did they determine I was an adventurous traveler? Huh? I’m telling you, this letter is pure scam! In fact, if some poor schmuck actually took them up on those free weeks -- you know what would happen? They’d find themselves paying outrageous prices for the food or the hotel nights wouldn’t be included. The list goes on and on. But one thing I know… nothing is free.”

 “This letter is legit.” Roberta snatched the letter back up and stuck out her stubborn chin.

 Chelle sighed again, knowing she had a battle before her. Once her friend got that mulish look on her face, there was no moving her. “It can’t be, Bobbie.”

 “Yes, it can. I called the number listed and got the details for you. I asked all the questions I could think of, and they were totally up front and open with me. In fact, when we got around to the issue of credit cards, they suggested you not bring one as nothing costs anything once you get on the island. And they don’t allow tipping.”

 Chelle raised a scornful eyebrow. “So the food is free?”

 “Totally.”

 “And the laundry facilities?”

 “Gratis.”

 “What about tours?”

 “On the house.”

 “Room service?”

 “Zilch.”

 “What about the shops? I know there must be souvenir shops there.”

 “You’re allowed to bring an empty pilot’s bag -- I think they said a twenty-one incher -- that you may fill with souvenirs.” Roberta held up her hand, forestalling Chelle’s dogged questions. “Chelle, I checked. Everything is free, and I mean everything. Up to and including gourmet cooking lessons from your favorite chefs, the Tasty Twin Chefs.”

 Chelle gasped in shock. “Get out of here!” Both hands flew up to her chest and pressed against her suddenly pounding heart.

 “I thought that would change your tune. Your favorite chefs are on that island, waiting for you.”

 “Get out ! Are you really trying to tell me the Tasty Twins are on Chimera? Do you know how long I’ve followed their career? All of a sudden, a few years ago, they just fell off the cooking channel. I haven’t been able to find a trace of them on any other TV channel or in the news.”

 Jenna looked disgusted at Chelle’s excited exclamations. “I can’t believe the only men you’ve ever shown an interest in can only be seen on reruns of the cooking channel.”

 Michelle stuck her tongue out at her cousin. “Shut up, Jenna. At least I watched and learned how to make a lot of the dishes they showcased. You know you used to drool over them, too.”

 Jenna stamped her foot. “I did not drool over the Magnificently Matched Males as you called them.”

 “Who are you trying to fool? I’m the one who passed you the napkin to catch it all.”

 “Oh, you did not!”

 “Did so!”

 “Not!”

 Chelle held up her right hand and turned her face away from Jenna’s irate expression. “Tell it to the hand cause the ears are busy getting the lowdown.” She nodded at Roberta. “Go on, Bobbie. Tell me more.”

 “Well, the person in charge said the two chefs had signed an exclusive contract to run the island’s three restaurants for an undisclosed length of time. They will be overseeing all the eating-out experiences on Chimera Island.”

 Garnette rubbed her bony hands together. “Oh, that sounds like kismet, Chelle. Perhaps you’ll meet your favorite chefs on the island, and one of them will fall in love with you. I bet that’ll take your mind off the job.” She looked her boss over with a critical eye. “Lord knows you need to do something to regain your health. You’re so scrawny, I probably could have taken you.”

 Chelle snorted, thinking how unlikely it was that one of the twins would fall in love with her. “Huh! Not even in your dreams, skinny hag.”

 “Look, Chelle,” Jenna interrupted, “you have a choice. Either you go to Chimera or you stay and get coddled by Mom and Dad.”

 Put like that, Michelle didn’t have any problem making up her mind. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to research the letter, I suppose you’ve booked my flight. So, tell me… when’s my plane leaving?”

  

  

  

 Chapter Three

  

 Michelle stepped off the plane and paused to fill her lungs with the rich balmy air sweeping across the smooth green of the landing field. She hadn’t relaxed this much in over a year and could feel her blood pressure dropping by the minute.

 From the time she arrived at the airport to find a private plane waiting for her and been escorted into the first class section and given her choice of drinks, she’d felt like a queen for the day. So far, the letter had proved to be legit. Drinks and meals on the plane had all been free and served with a deference and level of service she’d never received before. It was as if she’d won a spot on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous . She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 Now, disembarked and ready to begin her adventure, Chelle looked around and caught her breath. The island was beautiful! Tall, swaying palm trees laden with green coconuts grew in abundance everywhere her enchanted gaze lit. Bushes of lush blossoms in a rainbow of colors stunning in their intensity, dotted the landscape, home to brilliantly hued fluttering butterflies and other exotic insects.

 This place was truly a paradise. She couldn’t swear Chimera lay in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle, but she did know there couldn’t be another place on earth as mystical and inviting as this cool tropical retreat. She couldn’t wait to get to her assigned bungalow, unpack and hit the beach.

 Wondering where the welcome wagon was, Michelle followed the flight crew across the field to a low-lying building that looked more like a grass hut than the island’s airport. Inside, large fans rotated lazily, stirring up a breeze that efficiently cooled the shadowed interior.

 A lone worker stood behind a long mahogany counter, sorting what looked like index cards and stacking them in neat piles. Every so often, she’d turn and stuff them into one of the cubbyholes on the wall behind her. No one else was around. The flight crew had checked in and checked out, scattered to wherever they stayed while on the island.

 Never one to hang back, Chelle took a deep breath for courage and approached the woman behind a long counter. “Good afternoon. My name is --”

 “Michelle Rios,” the woman interrupted with a smile. She held out her hand. “Welcome to Chimera, Ms. Rios. I hope your stay proves advantageous.”

 Well, Chelle mused, that’s an odd way of greeting someone . “So far so good, thanks. Look, I was wondering when I could expect someone to meet me and show me to my bungalow.”

 The woman never lost her smile, though her eyes hardened for a moment. A genteel sigh lifted her chest as she picked up the phone and pressed three buttons. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Ms. Rios has arrived and Puck has not showed up here to greet her.”

 Michelle tapped her foot and shifted her small overnight bag to her other hand, flexing the feeling back into her cramped fingers.

 “… very good, ma’am, I’ll inform her.” The lady set the handset gently in its cradle before turning the wattage of her smile to brilliant and bathing Chelle in the resultant glow. “An escort will arrive in a few minutes. Until then, is there anything you’d like in the line of snacks?”

 Chelle shook her head. She was already snacked out.

 “In that case, there’s a pile of current magazines on the table over there.” The woman pointed across the room, indicating a low occasional table next to a comfortable looking conversation pit. “Help yourself.”

 “Thank you.” Michelle drifted over to the couch and sank down on the firm cushions. After sorting through the thick pile of glossy magazines, she settled down with the current issues of Essence and Jet .

 Michelle had read one magazine and was skimming the other one when a commotion over at the door drew her attention. Placing a finger in the page to hold her place, she glanced up and over to where the receptionist still stood.

 A tall, black-haired man, elbow propped on the countertop, was talking to the young woman, his voice intimately low and gravelly. Tall and muscular without being brawny, he towered a good foot taller than the petite island employee, though it was hard to judge his true height from where she sat.

 Just as her eyes began the descent to his lower regions, he turned his head and met her interested gaze. Even from across the room, the look in his golden eyes was hot enough to melt steel.

 Oh my God, it’s one of the Tasty Twins -- right here in front of me!

 Chelle struggled to catch her breath. Light-headed, one hand fluttering before her face and the other one pressed to her chest, she sucked in quick, shallow breaths. Hyperventilation lurked in her near future, but try as she might, she couldn’t manage to drag in enough oxygen.

 She felt faint. The chance of actually meeting the Corelli twins face-to-face was the main reason she’d decided to give in and accept the two-week vacation the letter offered. Chelle bit her lip.

 With a final word to the woman at the counter, Jonathan or Jason Corelli straightened up and started across the room, a glint of knowing amusement lurking in his honey-warm eyes.

 Face burning with embarrassment, Michelle lowered her gaze, surreptitiously tracking his inexorable approach from under lowered lids. She had to have the worst case of hero-worship ever recorded in the annals of single women. Her heart stalled, breath caught as she realized one of the stars of her nightly fantasies was heading right for her.

 When his tennis shoes finally came to rest beside her more formal pumps, she swallowed hard, only then becoming aware of a set of enormous paws stationary a few paces back. That brought her head up fast.

 Michelle loved dogs and this one was a beauty. Huge and bristling with muscle, the dog had a healthy, shining coat of pitch-black fur. Its golden eyes, large and intelligent, shone in the dim light of the lounge. His tail wagged enthusiastically, an indicator of his friendly temperament.

 “Hi, boy!” she crooned, offering the back of her hand for the dog to sniff. She held still as the giant muzzle came close, nudged her hand. A long broad tongue came out and lapped her exposed skin before the dog butted his large head against her hand, demanding she pet him.

 “What a beautiful dog. What breed is it?” She chanced a glance from under lowered eyelashes and caught her breath, overwhelmed by the nearness of one of her idols. How strange. His dog’s eyes are almost the exact color of his .

 His lips moved so she knew he spoke, though the roaring in her ears kept her from hearing his words. Chelle struggled to make sense of what he’d said. “Excuse me?”

 “His name is Jason and he’s a wolf, not a dog. Don’t worry though,” he reassured her when she snatched her hand back and sank against the couch cushions. “As wolves go, he’s pretty tame.”

 Chelle eyed the dog, able to see the build and musculature more common to a wolf than a domestic dog. She didn’t know how she’d missed seeing those telltale signs earlier. A low mournful whine caused her to look at the dog’s sad eyes -- no, wolf’s sad eyes. She could have sworn it wordlessly begged her not to judge it by its wild cousins’ bad reputation.

 With a sigh, she relaxed. Leaning forward, she brushed her hand over the crown of its head, scratched behind the upthrust ears. “I guess I’m safe, huh, boy? You could have gnawed my hand off earlier if you’d wanted to.”

 “You will always be safe with us,” the Corelli twin promised. “Neither Jason nor I would ever hurt you.”

 This time Chelle paid attention to the name he used and almost lost it. She bit back a snicker, not sure how Jonathan would take her laughter, but no way could it be a coincidence! He must have done it on purpose. “Jason? You must be Jonathan, then. You’ve got a lot of nerve giving your pet wolf the same name as your brother.”

 The man’s gaze sharpened on her. “You recognize me?” He answered his own question. “Of course you do. You obviously know enough about us to know my and my brother’s name.”

 Chelle ducked her head, a hot wash of color bathing her cheeks. Gathering her courage, she lifted her head and met his gaze -- her own direct and honest. “Yes, I did recognize you. I’m a huge fan. I mean, I’ve followed your careers for years.” Her voice strengthened as she warmed up to her favorite subject. “I’ve taped every episode of Adventures in Dining off the Food Network. I was frantic when you suddenly disappeared, just sank out of sight -- slid under the radar of both TV and the gossip rags.”

 Oh God, I can’t believe I’m gushing like this. Michelle wanted to sink into a hole in the ground and pull the earth down after her.

 “I’m Jonathan Corelli, but you know that.” He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. After a few millennia, he waggled his hand in her face. “Come on, how fair is that? You’ll greet my wolf but you won’t shake my hand?”

 Feeling at a disadvantage, Michelle pushed off from the couch and stood on shaky legs. Gulping, she held out her hand and squeaked, “As you can see, I’m terribly pleased to meet you, Mr. Corelli. My name is Michelle Rios and I used to be able to string whole sentences together.”

 His smile softened his entire face. “Sounds like you still can. But please, call me Jonathan or Jon. Here on Chimera, no one stands much on ceremony. May I call you Michelle?”

 She nodded, at first too star-struck to do more. With an inward curse, she shook off the stardust. “Better yet, call me Chelle.”

 “Well, Chelle, since I had to sign for some supplies that came in on the same plane as you, the director asked me to see you to your bungalow. Is this your bag?” He pointed to the medium sized bag tucked at her feet.

 “Oh, yes. Thank you.” Flustered, she watched him collect her bag and then placed her hand in the crook of his arm when he offered it to her with old world charm. “I’ll be glad to get somewhere I can freshen up. It was a long airplane flight.”

 “Don’t get me wrong -- you smell as fresh as a daisy, but I have to agree Chimera is indeed distant from the everyday world. Most visitors come to appreciate that isolation before their stay is over. Perhaps you will, also.”

 If that isolation meant being able to spend time with the sexy hunk walking beside her, Michelle was all for it. “I just might, at that.”

 Jonathan looked askance at the dainty pumps adorning her feet. “We’ve a bit of an uneven walk to your assigned bungalow. Are you going to be all right in those shoes?”

 “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, holding tighter to his arm, “as long as you don’t drag me through rough forest.”

 “The majority of Chimera is uncivilized, but even the wild parts are beautiful and worth seeing. Just hold on to me. I’ll see you safely through it.”

 Chelle shivered as his velvety voice slid right through her, caressing parts that had lain dormant for more time than she cared to remember. Little did he know how she wished she could hold on to him and never let go. Hell, she’d fucked men who touched her less intimately than the sound of this man’s voice. This holiday was certainly beginning to seem worthy of her enthusiasm.

 With Jonathan leading the way, they left what Michelle thought of as the receiving area and started out across the field, heading for the more wooded part of the island. It was as if they stepped back in time, leaving civilization far behind.

 Chelle’s neck twisted back and forth, trying to take in everything at once. All about, the foliage grew in dark green abundance. Ropey vines climbed the broad trunks of towering trees, hung from the branches in an invitation to imitate Tarzan’s bold swings. Monkeys chattered in the leafy canopy above, their shrill cries and playful antics endearing.

 Brightly colored birds with exotic plumage called from their roosts in the concealing trees. Some swooped down to investigate the Humans below, keeping well out of reach but flying close enough for Chelle to catch her breath at their beauty.

 The underbrush rustled with unseen life along the narrow path, hinting at curious animals staying just out of sight, but with Jonathan at her side, Michelle felt no sense of danger or threat. Her feelings of safety also had something to do with the large wolf trotting majestically along beside them. Not much could successfully challenge a healthy wolf in its prime. The lion might be king of the jungle, but the wolf’s confident stance declared he ruled supreme in this primal forest.

 Jonathan didn’t speak. He watched her reactions and smiled occasionally at her outbursts. Intent on watching everything about her while navigating the uneven ground at her feet, Chelle was thankful for the chance to concentrate without having to uphold her share of a conversation. Thankfully, the silence -- far from being daunting -- stretched between them, connected them in a companionable bubble of quietude and peace.

 They walked along in friendly serenity until Chelle broke the silence, her racing thoughts finally forcing her to verbalize her concerns. “Mind if I ask you a question?” She risked a quick glance up at her companion, hoping he wouldn’t take offense at her nosiness.

 “I don’t mind at all… ask away.”

 “Is this island where you and your brother came when you suddenly decided to disappear and stopped doing the television show? Is this where you hid? You guys had a long-running television contract, several cookbooks in print and people clamoring for you to make personal appearances -- you’d pretty much arrived. Why did you and your brother decide to take a left turn on the path to success?”

 A bark of laughter erupted from him. She caught a gleam of white teeth as his smile flashed. “That was three questions, my dear. What a unique turn of phrase… left turn on the path…” He laughed some more. “No, we didn’t come here at first. We’ve only been on Chimera a year or so, recuperating. As for taking that left turn -- we prefer to think of it as… pursuing our destiny.”

 Chagrined, Chelle hastened to clarify. “That sounded very negative, didn’t it? Please, scratch that last comment. It didn’t quite come out the way I meant it to. What I really wanted to say…”

 Jon raised a nonchalant hand, effectively halting her tumbling rush of words. “Never fear, I didn’t take offense. Your honesty is refreshing. It’s good to know Jason and I still have some fans out there if we ever decide to return.”

 “Fans?” His statement tickled Chelle immensely. “There are thousands of us out there!” She thought of the programming available since the twins had left and grimaced. “Have you seen what they’re showing on the Food Network lately? Man, I wish you and your brother would consider coming back. Is there any chance of that happening in the near future?”

 Jonathan stopped walking. So did Chelle, since she was still attached to him. He stared down at her from his more than eight inches’ height advantage, his gaze focused and intent. The wolf noticed they’d halted and doubled back to them, sitting on his haunches and cocking his head as if to ask what was the hold-up.

 Chelle shivered under the look Jon was giving her, but it wasn’t the cool breeze causing her nipples to bead up and draw tight. “Too forward a question, huh?”

 “I like forwardness in a woman.” His golden gaze lingered on her, his expressive eyes turned sultry. With a deliberateness that had the muscles in her belly tightening, he let his gaze roam over her body, lingering without guile on her breasts. “It certainly looks good on you.”

 Oh God, he can see my nipples through this thin blouse! Heat unfurled down low between her thighs. His high-voltage smile had her squeezing her knees together in a vain attempt to hold her growing arousal in check. All he has to do is touch me and I’ll melt into a puddle of cream right here at his feet. What is wrong with me? I’ve never gotten this excited from simple conversation and an admiring look …

 “When all is said and done, the answer to your question is very simple. My brother and I decided living in the public eye was counter-productive, indeed, detrimental to what we really wanted.”

 “And what did you want that you couldn’t have in Hollywood or New York?”

 “We want a wife, a home and children to nurture and care for. We want a private life out of the limelight -- one lived in peace among like-minded beings.”

 Chelle’s pulse jumped. They want wives. She hoped that meant they were still available. “And have you found any of that, here?”

 The wolf whined. Padding over to Michelle, he butted his head against her hand, begging to be petted. She absently caressed behind his ears, sliding her fingers through the silky dense fur at his ruff. Jason was a big wolf, easily as broad and tall as a Saint Bernard. The wolf’s head and shoulders reached almost to her breast.

 Jon shook his head. “No, not yet, however, the outcome of our search has recently become more promising.”

 She glanced up from petting his wolf, trying to hide the chagrin she felt at his statement. Trust her luck to meet them when they’d already found a love interest. Wait a minute… did I say love? What in hell am I thinking ?

 Swallowing thickly, she cleared her throat. “It has? How recently?”

 Jon flashed another killer smile her way. “As recent as today… around the time your plane arrived.”

 Unsure how to respond, Chelle dropped down and buried her face in the wolf’s ruff, totally disconcerted by Jon’s answer. He couldn’t mean… he doesn’t mean me… does he? Oh, God! What if he’s implying what I think he is ?

 Pushing her face deeper into the wolf’s fur, Chelle feverishly sought some witty comeback. Failing utterly, she moaned in mortification. Bobbie and Jenna would never believe her loss of aplomb in the face of Jonathan Corelli’s studied compliment. She barely believed it, herself.

 “He’s totally free of fleas, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Jon spoke the laughing words very close to her ear.

 Coloring up, she shook her head. Idiot ! she hollered at herself. Say something intelligent. You’re blowing it !

 “Then, when you find what you’re searching for in Jason’s fur, perhaps you would consent to having dinner this evening, with my brother and me.”

 Her head came up at that. She stared into his face trying to judge his sincerity. Standing to her full height, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze with all the courage in her arsenal. “You want to have dinner with me? I thought I’d about worn out my welcome by my asinine reactions.” She didn’t allow him time to answer before hurrying on. If she didn’t get the words out, she’d choke on them.

 “You must know I find you very attractive, and it has nothing to do with how well you cook. The problem is there’s been a long dearth of dating for me. I don’t know how to act, can’t tell if I’m reading the signs correctly. Hell, I can’t even be sure there are signs.”

 She dipped her eyes, sighed and resolutely brought them back up to meet Jon’s quiet gaze. “I’m going to be terribly embarrassed if I’ve misconstrued your comments and body language. If I’ve totally mistaken your intent, please excuse me and could we please pretend I never said any of this?”

 Jon gazed into her eyes a long moment. “You’ve misconstrued nothing. I’ve been flirting as hard as I can without overstepping the bounds of polite behavior.” Jon ran his hands through his hair, disordering the thick, shiny locks. “You’re not the only one feeling his way, here. We’ve only just met. It would be inappropriate to just blurt out what I’ve wanted to do to you and with you ever since I walked into the airport reception area and caught sight of you from across the room. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve seen in ages.”

 Jonathan Corelli thought her plump shape was sexy! Michelle fought the urge to bury her face back in Jason’s fur. Her entire body tensed with excitement. Her womb clenched, relaxed, clenched again and released a flood of warmth between her thighs.

 Jonathan ran the back on one hand down her cheek. “I’m not sure what’s happening between us, but I want the chance to explore it. I’d like to do a whole lot more than have dinner with you, but we can start there… and before you ask -- yes, my brother will be honored by your presence.”

 “I know you’re twins, but how can you be so sure you know what he’ll think?”

 Jonathan pursed his lips. “My twin and I have similar tastes. We often share the same preferences in women.” He paused, cocked his head and regarded her with an expression in his golden eyes that eluded her. After a moment, he sighed and continued. “Trust me, Chelle. Five minutes after being introduced to you, Jason will be trying to annex all your attention for himself.” He took her hand and resumed walking. “Not to worry -- I have no intention of allowing that to happen.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Four

  

 Jason bounded into Jonathan’s room and jumped up on the bed. Get up! I want to go see Chelle again. Our mate is so cute when she’s flustered. Our mate has beautiful breasts. Our mate has a sweet smelling pussy .

 Jonathan rolled over and eyed the clock, then flicked his brother a disgruntled, sleepy look. “Damn it, Jason, you’re always more exuberant when in wolf form but there is no need to wake someone up just as the sun rises. In answer to your comment, there’s nothing cute about Michelle. Cute is for girls and she’s definitely a woman -- a beautiful woman.”

 Well, I think it was cute the way she blushed when you slid your hand between her thighs and stroked her wet panties. I wish I’d thought of that.

 She’d done more than blush, Jon recalled. She’d pleased and surprised him by pushing up against his hand, silently begging for more attention. How he wished he’d given it to her. If he had, she might have responded favorably enough they could have escalated their wooing and he wouldn’t hurt so much right now.

 Forcibly yanking his thoughts from last night, Jonathan squinted at his brother. “Well, you were the one who thought of showing up on her porch yesterday morning in wolf form so you could watch her shower and dress.”

 You sound mad, but I felt you looking through my eyes.

 “Hell, yeah, I looked and hell, yeah, I was mad. You stuck your damn muzzle in her pussy! What did I tell you about waiting before we tried to take her to bed?”

 The wolf whined. I couldn’t help it. She smelled good there. She pushed me away before I could taste. How soon can we see her again? Can we go now ?

 “No, we can’t go now. It’s barely dawn.” Jonathan yawned, sighed. There was no way he could recapture his lost sleep so he threw off his blankets and retreated to the bathroom. On his way, he grabbed a towel and washcloth from the closet and tried to talk some sense into his impatient brother.

 “Look, Jason, we had dinner with her the last two nights and kept her up late. She just arrived on the island two days ago. From what the director said, she’s been ill, so we need to give her time to relax and recoup her health.”

 Once Jonathan shut the bathroom door, Jason jumped up onto the bed and made himself comfortable in Jon’s abandoned covers. Twisting around until he got them just so, he flopped down and rested his nose on his crossed paws.

 “You’d better not be sleeping on my bed, you flea-ridden bag of bones!”

 I’m not sleeping. I’m just getting comfortable while talking to you!

 Jonathan could almost see Jason’s grin. The wolf’s thoughts were hot orange with amusement. In retaliation, he cracked the bathroom door and made sure the loud, long sounds of his urinating came through. Jason had told him how he had to fight the urge to get up and mark territory whenever he heard Jon peeing. His brother retained his Human thoughts while in wolf form, but the wolf body had certain strong instincts that were often hard to override. “You better not think of marking anywhere in my bedroom, Jas!” he hollered, getting ready to get in the shower.

 I’m not. I’m thinking about what you said about Chelle needing to recuperate. I want her well, so we can let her rest for now, but remember we only have two weeks and three days are already gone.

 Jon stepped naked into the shower and turned the water to hot. Raising his face to the spray, he let the water cascade over him, hoping the shower would sharpen his still drowsy thought processes. His thoughts might be sluggish, but his blood had started zipping through his veins as soon as Jason had mentioned Michelle.

 Only two weeks…

 When the director first told him their time limit, he’d thought it plenty of time. What could be easier? Meet the woman, enthrall her, hook her on the good sex -- and it would be good! -- and then sell her on the total package… two men for the price of one. What woman could resist having two men at her beck and call sexually? He’d been in women’s heads -- he knew their fantasies. That particular one cropped up often.

 At first, everything seemed to be going as planned. They’d met Michelle Rios and liked her immediately. Everything about her was just what they’d ordered. Her figure was lushly full and rounded. Her conversation was, by turns, lively and shy. She showed keen interest in everything to do with them -- especially their careers -- or their lack of one, by her estimation. Chelle actually had a killer intelligence that she wasn’t afraid to use.

 However, when it came time to start the process rolling, he hadn’t been able to cast his glamour over her. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have put the whammy on her… it was that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. When she came to them -- if she came to them -- he needed it to be something she wanted, without outside coercion. Thank God, Jason felt the same way…

 Jon groaned as he ran his washcloth over his stiff penis. It had been at least semi-hard since they’d picked Chelle up at the airstrip. Damn thing throbbed like a rotten tooth -- the dull ache never let up and his teeth throbbed just as painfully.

 For the first time since becoming a day-walker, Jonathan craved the nectar of a woman’s blood. Not just any woman’s blood, either. He wanted Michelle Analise Rios in every way, in every position. He wanted to fuck her and drink from her, empty her while filling her with his own boiling essence. More than anything, he wanted to watch Jason lick and eat her pussy while he slid his cock between those thick, full luscious looking lips.

 The water suddenly cooled and Jonathan yelped. His erection wilted as the icy water pelted his heated flesh. Quickly, he finished scrubbing and rinsed off, angry at having wasted time dawdling. He and Jason were due at Fresh Fantasies -- the island’s casual buffet-style breakfast and lunch bistro -- in an hour. While the efficient and talented staff usually functioned well without supervision, the brothers made a habit of making daily rounds to all three restaurants under their jurisdiction.

 Two hours later, Jonathan was helping put the final touches on the breakfast buffet. A blurred movement caught his attention. He looked around, his eyes widening as he spotted the six foot, nine inch warrior striding up from the beach.

 The warrior’s skin was so black, light seemed to bend and disappear around him, cloaking him in a dark reverse nimbus. His hair, worn in a cloud of tiny braids that reached to his waist, gleamed as black as his skin. The powerfully built creature wore cream pants and a matching open vest that left his belly bare. He proudly displayed the gold paternal tattoos marching around his waist, which proclaimed his House of Aggression lineage. More tattoos shimmered about his biceps, telling the world he had claimed, but had not yet mated, his chosen life-mate. Like a Lord of creation, the warrior-caste Elemental -- rarely seen in the mortal realm unless preparing to fight -- stalked boldly up to the open stalls of the restaurant, eyes alight with what Jonathan hoped was hunger.

 “Oh shit!” Why did trouble always show up at the most inopportune time? Jonathan cursed under his breath, watching his plans for the day wash down the drain. He’d relied on having a quiet day, a quick end to work and hopefully, time to remind Michelle Rios of why she found him and Jason so attractive. The appearance of this warrior looked like his plans were fated to fail.

 Intent on not causing alarm in his Human staff and customers, Jon sent an urgent mental call to Jason for back up and began moving toward the intruder.

 A smile that served to camouflage the flashing of his top fangs in silent warning widened his lips as he politely addressed the newcomer. “I hope there isn’t any trouble brewing here, warrior. All our restaurants are neutral territory.”

 The Elemental Fae, his pitch-black skin gleaming in the early morning light, shook his head. “No, I’m not here in any official capacity. I find myself in need of epicurean delights and my senses led me here. I am unaware of trouble here on Chimera.”

 Jonathan remained tense. Claiming unofficial status didn’t negate the possibility of a threat. It wasn’t unknown for an Elemental to have a personal agenda -- rare, true, but possible. He would continue to be on guard until Jason had a chance to sniff the vagrant out.

 “In that case, try the grilled swordfish. It was caught fresh this morning and marinated in basil, lemon and pepper sauce. Drizzle it with our fresh creamy butter and you’ll have a meal fit for a king.”

 “That sounds delectable, but no, thank you. It reminds me of a friend I just recently made the acquaintance of.”

 Jonathan listened to the male’s stomach protesting its emptiness. Hopefully, food was the only reason he’d come to Fresh Fantasies. “You needn’t worry. None of our restaurants serve the corpses of sentient beings.”

 “I meant no insult, it’s just that, at this moment, dining on seafood does not appeal.”

 In answer to the male’s comment, Jon’s shoulders lifted in an offhanded shrug. “There is plenty to choose from.” He passed the Fae a menu. “Help yourself. By the way, welcome to Chimera and Fresh Fantasies.”

 Jason skidded to a halt just behind the black-skinned Elemental warrior. Keeping low to the ground, the wolf sniffed the air, cocked his head and settled down on his haunches. His actions made Jonathan relax. Jason’s wolf instincts were never wrong. His brother had abandoned his fighting stance, which meant he sensed no threat from the tall muscular warrior.

 “Vampire, why is your Were-double flanking me from behind?”

 Jonathan’s eyes narrowed as he noted the Fae had not turned his head nor looked around. He realized the Elemental was using his own form of magic to read the otherworld flow of energies pulsing between them. “Just a precaution, warrior, one you’ve convinced me is no longer necessary.”

 With a gesture to summon Jason away, and a parting nod toward the Fae, Jon returned to overseeing the staff in the preparation for the breakfast crowds already gathering.

 Behind him, he heard the Fae call out, “Vampire, I am Talcor, first son of the House of Aggression.” Jonathan turned to see the male nodding in respect.

 “I am Jonathan Corelli. My brother is Jason.” After a long intense stare, he nodded a final time. “Well met.”

 While verbally answering a staff’s question about how much fresh pineapple to set out, Jonathan also sent a subvocal instruction to Jason. Better let the director know Chimera has a stowaway in the person of an Elemental Fae from the Aggression line .

  

  

  

 Chapter Five

  

 Ensconced on a sturdy seaside lounger, Michelle unselfconsciously stretched her arms above her head and bowed her back, lifting her torso to the sun. Wrapped in the warmth of the sun and basking in the stares of heated masculine interest, she sighed with pleasure. Filled with the feminine assurance of knowing she looked good, she raised one knee and dropped the other foot off the narrow bed of the recliner.

 Yesterday, she’d finally done it… thrown off the defeatist, negative self-image she’d been harboring for years. Here on Chimera, determined to grab life and wring it for all it was worth, she’d gathered her courage and donned the brightly colored, daring two-piece a clerk at the island boutique had chivvied her into taking.

 It was as if a Faerie waved her magic wand and made her beautiful. Instead of the ridicule she’d expected, Chelle had received wolf whistles and admiring stares. Even some of the good-looking women had let their interest show. Best of all, Jonathan had almost swallowed his tongue. He’d certainly tried to swallow hers as he’d kissed her to within an inch of her life. Eyes burning possessively, hands clamped on her arms, he’d dragged her off her lounger and into his heated embrace, the hardened lines of his body giving mute witness to the effect seeing her in the skimpy swimsuit had on him.

 Of course, the fulsome compliments didn’t blind Chelle to reality. Anyone could see she remained a plus-sized woman. The difference was all in how she viewed those extra pounds. Now, and forever more, she would see herself through new eyes, through Jason and Jon’s eyes.

 In the past, her weight had bothered her tremendously. She’d bought into the Hollywood-hype that thin was in. For years she’d struggled, fought an uphill battle to take off and keep off those unfashionably excessive pounds.

 Lately, listening to her doctor’s talk about set points, basal metabolic rates and heredity’s role in body types, Chelle had become more at peace with herself and her body. Hell, she was a mix of Hispanic, Native American and Black genes. All three ethnic groups tended toward heaviness.

 Wanting to be as healthy as possible, she did what she could to keep the weight down -- short of keeping to a starvation diet -- worked out at the gym and swam three times a week. Chelle’s extra pounds were evenly distributed, tight and trim. However, she had never felt lovely, never felt beautiful.

 Only now, here on Chimera, did she see she was beautiful, not in spite of her excess weight, but just because. Before coming to Chimera, she’d have been embarrassed, mortified at having Jon slide his hand up the outside of her full thigh and then press between to finger her through her panties right at the dinner table. Instead of feeling shocked, she’d lifted her hips and pressed back, eager to feel that bold finger push in where she needed it the most.

 Feeling the heat now, Chelle giggled as she sat up and reached for her chilled strawberry daiquiri. I bet Jon was shocked when he found out how wet I was . She took a long sip, enjoying the hell out of her day. In fact, the last three days had been sheer paradise, thanks in the most part to the Corelli brothers.

 Never in her wildest dreams would she have envisioned meeting Jonathan and Jason and finding herself the target of their romantic interest. She’d never dreamt of being on the receiving end of their blatantly masculine, positive reaction to her ample charms. In simple words, they both sprouted thick boners whenever in her vicinity.

 There was no way she could overlook their response. Jonathan and Jason always sat as close as possible to her, their hard, muscled thighs warm along the outside of her legs. That close, it was impossible to breathe without both of them feeling the air move in and out of her lungs. She’d known Jason was aware his brother’s hand played between her thighs. Instead of that knowledge turning her off, his awareness had made the encounter all the hotter.

 Chelle drained her drink and lay back. Soon enough, the chill wore off and her muscles grew lax. Her body went limp, soaking up the warmth as she drowsed in the hot afternoon sun.

 Ah! This was the life! Not a care in the world -- no worries, other than dreading the end of her vacation, ruffled the calm of her days. It wouldn’t take much to convince her to take up the life of a lotus-eater. Chelle could eagerly succumb to the temptation of lazing about Chimera in sybaritic splendor.

 The day suddenly dimmed, as if a cloud had drifted across the face of the sun. Feeling chilled, Michelle pried one eye open and glanced up, surprised to see a clear sky with no clouds in sight. As she watched, a large object flew overhead, its enormous wingspan casting a shadow yards wide.

 “Great day in the morning,” Chelle yelled, scrambling upright. Her mouth fell open in disbelief and shock. “What the hell is that?” Bringing a hand up to shade her eyes, she squinted, trying to track the movements of what looked like a majestic Dragon as it sailed in a slow, lazy flight across the sky.

 “It is a magnificent sight, isn’t it?”

 A small scream escaped Chelle as she jumped, startled at the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Good God, Corelli, you scared the crap out of me! I didn’t hear you come up.”

 “It was not my intention to scare you, bella .” He frowned down at her. “I thought we had agreed you would call me Jonathan or Jon? Considering our interactions of last evening, I don’t see how you can possibly call me by so formal a name.”

 Chelle leaned her knee against the recliner, her muscles weak from the fright she’d just had. She nodded jerkily, pointing a shaking finger toward the sky and the fast disappearing impossibility. “Fine! Jonathan , did you see that?”

 “I did, indeed.”

 “What was it?”

 His smile gently mocking, he captured her pointing hand and covered it with both of his. “It was exactly what it looked like, Michelle. It was a Dragon.” His voice, when he continued, was calm and matter-of-fact. “You were extremely lucky to see this one. They usually reserve their flights for very early morning.”

 Fear and awe wrestled within her. Chelle turned her hand in Jonathan’s and held on tight. “But that’s impossible! It couldn’t be a Dragon -- they don’t exist.”

 “How can you explain it, then? What did we see fly across the sky and steal the warmth of the sun from your beautiful skin?”

 Shaken and shaking, Chelle sank onto her abandoned lounger. “You know I can’t explain it. But how can I believe what you say it was?”

 “Don’t believe my words, believe your own eyes. Trust yourself. Open your mind to all the wonder hidden about you.”

 “What is this place, really?” she asked, looking up at Jon in confusion. “I feel like I’ve tumbled down a rabbit hole.”

 “Chimera is a sanctuary, a safe place where the rare and endangered can live in freedom.”

 There was something in his voice, some inflection that told her Jonathan and his brother were numbered among those endangered species. Why else had they disappeared so completely from the public eye?

 “And which are you and Jason?”

 His gaze bored into hers as he caught her other hand and drew her to her feet. “We are, above all, two men very much interested in getting to know you better.”

 Just that quickly, he replaced the wonder of sighting the Dragon with the excitement of seduction. His words reduced her to heated cheeks and uncertainty. She felt his laughter rumbling in his chest as she tucked her head in his shoulder.

 “Are you going to hide again? Too bad I don’t have Jason here so you could use his fur. It’s thicker than my shirt.”

 She pulled back and glared up at him, embarrassment forgotten. “I just can’t get over you naming your pet after your brother. And stop teasing me.”

 His eyes glittered with an emotion she had trouble identifying. “I can’t help myself. You blush so sweetly. Besides, if I don’t tease I’m liable to do something more serious that will send you screaming into the forest.”

 “Not after just sighting a freaking Dragon, I wouldn’t,” she mumbled half under her breath, stepping back a bit. Did he know he still held her hand captive? “Knowing there’s a Dragon about serves as great incentive to curb one’s impulsiveness.” She shuddered. “Thank God I don’t qualify as a virgin sacrifice.”

 Jonathan threw back his head and laughed. “That’s sensible of you, but there’s no need for concern. Err… this particular Dragon has recently mated and is no longer interested in sacrifices… virgin or otherwise.”

 Michelle noted the humor in his voice but reacted more to the information he shared. “You mean there’s more than one of those things around?”

 Jonathan cuddled her close. “Michelle, Michelle, you have to stop overreacting like this to every little thing.”

 Her eyebrows rose. “You mean with absolute terror? For the record, I don’t call a Dragon every little thing!”

 “There’s no need for your terror, honey. Nothing here on Chimera will harm you.” He cupped her shoulders, pulled her into a tighter embrace. “You asked what Jason and I were. Come to dinner with us tonight and I promise we’ll show you. We’ll show you all the secrets of Chimera.”

 Michelle swallowed, stomach tilting, womb clenching with nerves. “Why does the prospect of finding out your secrets frighten me?”

 “I don’t know. Neither Jason nor I would ever hurt you. I swear it on my immortal soul.”

 Chelle tipped her head back, looking into his eyes. Sincerity shone within them. “I believe you, and I would love to have dinner with my two favorite chefs.”

 Jonathan bent his head and brushed her lips with his. Michelle froze, waiting to see if he would deepen the kiss, ready to accept him if he did. His mouth opened over hers and her legs wobbled as he took her lips with voracious hunger, eating at her mouth as if starved.

 Too soon, he pulled back. Disappointment almost crushed her. She knew she’d failed to hide her reaction when he hugged her close and smoothed her hair off her forehead.

 “If I kiss you like I want to, Jason could claim unfair advantage.”

 That boggled the mind. “J-J-Jason?”

 “My brother wants you as much as I do. Sooner or later, you’ll have a choice to make.” Jonathan’s lips repeatedly brushed her ear as he whispered. The feel of his lips, the promise in his words, made her shiver. “Until that time comes, we’ll pick you up tonight around nine. There’ll be fireworks on the beach at eleven, so we don’t want to eat too early.”

 “Nine will be fine. Should I dress up?”

 Jonathan grinned into her eyes. “What you’re wearing now is fantastic.”

 Chelle almost cringed before she recalled her new attitude. She straightened her shoulders, determined to flaunt her body, not flinch from it. “Thank you, however, unless we’re eating at Fresh Fantasies, I wouldn’t pass your own stringent dress codes.”

 Jonathan threw back his head and laughed. “You are as magnificent a creature as yon Dragon! For you, there is no dress code. You have such presence you could wear anything and get away with it.” He bowed to her. “Wear what you will, my love. While I’d personally prefer you wearing nothing, Jason and I’d have to kill any male that gazed upon your natural loveliness.”

 Did he just call her his love? Michelle’s knees wobbled as Jonathan left her with a last smile and teasing brush of his lips. Sinking down on the lounger, she locked her greedy gaze on the sexy shift of muscles in his taut buttocks. How could he drop a bombshell like that and calmly walk away?

 After a moment’s contemplation, she decided he’d done it on purpose. His sincerity notwithstanding, Michelle got the distinct impression Jonathan was playing with her, manipulating her emotions toward his own ends. She didn’t feel the same vibes from Jason, probably because he didn’t pressure her as Jonathan always did. Jason accepted her advances, responded eagerly, but didn’t push.

 Jonathan, on the other hand, constantly challenged her comfort zone. He delighted in doing risqué things to her, like his little flesh foray under the table at dinner the night before, and based on her previous lame-brained responses to his playful come-ons, he probably expected her to melt into a big lump of malleable clay.

 Michelle gathered her sunbathing paraphernalia and tossed it all into her tote bag, plotting the comeuppance of the cocky cook. She’d just see if she couldn’t manage to shock a certain self-assured suitor. Tonight, Mr. Corelli would find out just how unmalleable she could be when she put her mind to it.

  

  

  

 Chapter Six

  

 “I don’t have a thing to wear.” Michelle stood in front of her closet, tapping her finger against her bottom lip. It was such a cliché, she hated to verbalize it, but the truth was the truth, anyhow.

 Jason and Jonathan were taking her to Decadent Delights, the island’s supremely upscale restaurant that catered to the dressy, more formal crowd. She needed a dress that would wow the brothers, something special and daring that screamed sophistication. She had an idea of just what she needed…

 The clerk smiled, her eyes twinkling over her tiny glasses. “So, you need a Mae West dress, huh?” Her quicksilver fingers flew through the glittering array of evening dresses hanging on the back wall of the boutique. “A dress like that is strong medicine. Who’re you gunning for?”

 “Pardon me?”

 “Who’s your prey… er… date?”

 “Oh.” Michelle took a deep breath and looked everywhere but in the shorter woman’s eyes. “I’m hoping it will turn into more than just a date. My escorts are the Corelli brothers.”

 “Get out !” the clerk screamed. She turned to her fellow workers, bellowing at the top of her lungs. “You guys, you’ll never guess who this lucky wench is dating tonight! It’s none other than Jonathan and Jason Corelli, the Italian stallions!”

 Another girl, islander in appearance, shouted, “Doctor Doolittle’s Push me-pull you? You’re a lucky woman!”

 The allusion confused Michelle, but only for a moment. She gasped. “You mean they…”

 “Honey, they double-team all the way, if you get my drift. They do everything in tandem… and I mean everything ! I hear they have synchronicity down to an art. But I’ve never heard of a lady walking away unsatisfied.”

 “You mean waddling away, don’t you?” the island woman chimed in. “No woman can walk by the time the twins finish with her!”

 She really didn’t need the visual that went along with those words. In fact, the thought of Jason and Jonathan being with other women left Chelle feeling sick at heart. Mental pain turned into physical and cramped her stomach.

 The clerk noticed and touched her arm in sympathy. “Don’t take on so, dear. All that behavior is in the past. They haven’t touched a woman in months. Everyone’s been talking about how the boys suddenly stopped looking at women let alone dating them. Now we know why.” She gave Chelle a sly wink. “You’re just their style, too. Those brothers love a little meat on the bone, don’t you know?”

 What have I gotten myself into? Chelle groaned, mulling over the implications of what she had learned. She couldn’t say Jonathan hadn’t been up-front with her from the beginning. She simply hadn’t caught on. He’d told her his brother wanted her and he hadn’t seemed worried over the competition. Now she knew he didn’t view his brother’s interest as such. The questions were… what should she do now? Could she handle the both of them? And did she want to?

 “Little sister, I think I’ve found the dress for you. Look at this!”

 Ten minutes later, Chelle waved goodbye to the three boutique clerks, her new dress carefully tied into a white garment bag along with the matching shoes.

 “Okay,” she murmured, “the dress situation is taken care of. Now I need pampering.” In search of a facial, manicure, pedicure… the works, she headed down the lane, humming the song “I Feel Pretty” under her breath.

 The employees in the formal boutique she’d just left had highly recommended the service at the Get Your Groove On Hair Salon. Apparently, the shop covered all the bases, offering all the treatments she could think of and more.

 IF YOU DON’T GET LAID, WE DON’T GET PAID!

 Michelle chuckled. What a neat slogan. The sign, prominently posted in the salon window, was the first thing she saw. The second thing wiped the smile right off her lips.

 Literally, hordes of little women were struggling with a tall woman -- about 5’9” -- who was fighting to get out of the chair the workers were just as determined to force her down on. She sported very short black hair done in a haircut that looked almost masculine, as did the island print Bermuda shorts and matching tank top she wore.

 Michelle could see the woman’s kicking and flailing legs and from where she stood, they were the hairiest legs she’d ever seen on a female. Almost, she questioned the woman’s true gender, but the heaving breasts and rounded hips pretty much cinched the matter. She was female, all right.

 Chelle decided the woman was probably a dyke. Everything about her looked mannish… except her blue-gray eyes bulging wild-eyed and desperate in her pale face. Despair and fear stared out at her as Chelle watched the swarms of workers finally force the woman into a beauty chair that came equipped with leather restraints at arms and legs.

 Restraints on the chair? What the hell is that about? What kind of salon is this? Michelle started backing up, her unease growing as she noticed all the beauticians surrounding the fighting, flailing woman were shouting and singing at the top of their voices… in rhyme . One diva, flailing about with what looked like some kind of makeshift wand, stood alone, seeming to orchestrate the chaos.

 About that time, the disheveled customer looked up and made eye contact with Michelle. Eyes growing bigger, she pushed her way up out of the seething crowd long enough to bellow, “Avoid this strife -- run for your life!”

 At least, that’s what it sounded like. There was so much noise and confusion going on in the salon Michelle wasn’t sure of what the woman actually yelled. It didn’t matter. Not feeling inclined to hang around for clarification, she ran for her life, moving faster than she ever had before. She took to her heels and didn’t slow down until she bumped into a firm, hard chest.

 She bounced off the man, chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. “Par… don me… sorry!” Chelle gasped between grabbing blessed air. She hadn’t run that far or that fast since high school.

 The man steadied her, didn’t let go until she’d regained her breath and her balance. His smile was brilliant, his teeth white and even and his ears pointed. Really pointed -- like an Elf’s. She glanced up into his eyes and received another shock. The pupils were slitted. That was more than enough. For a moment, Chelle felt her eyes rolling up in her head. When she thought about the ramifications of fainting in this Elf-snake’s arms, she regained her equilibrium quickly. With an inarticulate groan, Michelle tugged her arms out of the male’s grasp and sprinted all the way to her bungalow.

 Throwing herself down on the bed, she rolled to her back and stared at the cream-colored ceiling. At least it was normal. Her heart gradually slowed and calmed, and her pulse evened out.

 Safe in her bungalow, Michelle berated herself over her cowardice. The snake-man or Elf, or whatever the hell he was hadn’t accosted her. He’d been polite and helpful. So why had she been so frightened?

 She didn’t know… and that bothered her more than her running into the Elf had. More than ever, she impatiently waited for her date with the Corellis. They’d promised her answers and the strange behaviors of the strange inhabitants of Chimera had given rise to many questions.

 Rolling off the bed, Michelle stripped her sweaty clothes off and tossed them in the corner. The housekeeper attached to the bungalow would collect them as soon as she left. The clothes would be stacked neatly at the end of her chaise lounge by the time she returned from dinner tonight -- if, that is, she decided to return. She had a feeling the brothers would be issuing an invitation to more than dinner before the night was over. Right now, she had no idea what her answer would be.

 Michelle opted for a bath instead of a shower. Shaking inside, she thoroughly and carefully cleansed every opening and orifice. Her mind shied away from looking too closely at what she did and why. Taking her time, she oiled, lathered, rinsed, lathered again and rinsed a final time. She dried, lotioned, shaved and spritzed until her skin and nails all shone silky clean and soft.

 She washed her hair and blow-dried it. Using a holding gel, she set her shoulder length tresses on rods for a more lasting curl. With her hair up, she put on a lacy underwire bra and matching tap pants in cream silk and then sat to draw on sheer thigh highs. She drew on a loose robe and then went over to the closet and took out the bag holding her new outfit and shoes. With bated breath, she unwrapped her fantasy dress and shoes and laid them ready on the bed.

 Michelle eyed the millinery confection, recalling the way it had floated and drifted about her at the slightest movement, on the barest whisper of air. An anticipatory smile curved her full lips. As the shop clerk had said, this dress was a lethal weapon and she couldn’t wait to see Jason and Jonathan’s reaction when she came out wearing it.

 With a last longing look, she returned to the bathroom to put the finishing touches to her makeup. Chelle didn’t want anything to mar her dress. She’d put the dress on just before the guys came to collect her.

  

  

  

 Chapter Seven

  

 Jason stood in front of Michelle’s door, hesitant to knock, thus setting the final chain of events in motion. The moon was up, just barely, hanging on the rim of the sky in transparent glory. The rays of the sun still bathed the sky with color, brilliant and vibrant. Twilight in all her glory shone on Chimera, reluctant to give way to true night.

 Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and brought it sharply down on the solid wooden door. On the other side of the door, he heard her quick footsteps approaching.

 “Just a minute, I’ll be right with you.”

 Michelle opened the door and stood there, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jason!” She glanced down at her watch and then back up at him, her hands flying to her curler-covered head. “What are you doing here? Our date isn’t for another two hours.”

 Jason thought he’d swallowed his tongue. By the moon, Michelle was beautiful, even with her hair twisted around those plastic contraptions. That robe did little to hide her curves and the glimpses of bare skin he’d seen had his blood pressure soaring, his mouth salivating and his cock hardening. He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Good evening, Michelle. I came early so we could have time to talk…”

 Jason’s words trailed off as his stunned gaze swept over her from head to toe, lingering somewhere around the middle. “Damn, you look good, woman!”

 Michelle frowned. “Thank you, but couldn’t you have told me that later?”

 She’s angry with me. Please, God, don’t let me mess this up. “Please, let me come in and talk to you. It’s really important.”

 The look on her face went from agitated to chagrined and he realized what she must be thinking. “You can’t possibly imagine I’m here to give you the brush-off, not with this log tenting the front of my pants!”

 Her gaze flashed down and then back up… and then down once more. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as if trying to stave off a laugh -- and dragged her gaze up to meet his amused look. With a sigh, she relaxed her militant stance. “Okay, come on in. I guess I can listen to you and polish my nails at the same time.”

 She opened the door wide but Jason chose to brush against her as he passed, heading for the bungalow’s compact living room.

 Standing in the doorway of the living room, she watched Jason get comfortable on the loveseat. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait for our date?”

 Jason patted the couch. “Come sit beside me.”

 With a shrug, she sat down beside him.

 “Jonathan tells me you allowed him to kiss you earlier today. More truthfully, I felt him kissing you.”

 She turned a guarded look on him. “Not so much allowed as didn’t protest,” she finally said, looking thoughtful. “Why?”

 “I would like equal opportunity.”

 “You make this sound like a competition. I wasn’t aware I was the prize. Besides, won’t he feel you kissing me?”

 Jason had to smile at that. “Michelle, I’m not here behind Jonathan’s back. We don’t operate that way. It’s just… when I finish telling you the things you need to hear, you might not want to kiss either of us again and I’d hate to miss the experience. If it felt that wonderful secondhand, I can just imagine what it will feel like direct.”

 Her huge sigh drew his attention to her full breasts. “All right, Jason. Let’s do it.” She leaned over and pulled his head down. Locking her fingers in the thick curls at his nape, she pressed her mouth to his in a tentative kiss. He quickly took it up several notches to another level. Under his facile control, their tongues and lips dueled and danced, dipped and sipped, clashed together as if seeking to quench a bottomless hunger.

 When at last he sat back, Jason felt powerful and masculine as he watched Michelle trying to recover from his measured assault. The wolf in him wanted to howl his victory to the sky. He’d sighted his mate and she was magnificent. “Thank you.”

 She slowly shook her head. One finger crept up to touch his smiling lips. “I should be the one tendering the thanks. That was some kiss.”

 Her tongue darted out to test the swollen flesh of her lower lip and Jason bit back a curse. “Oh, crap, I nipped you.” His hand cupped her jaw; forefinger brushed the red spot on her luscious mouth. “I’m sorry.”

 “Jason, if you try to apologize for that kiss, I’ll brain you. You’ve done nothing for which to be sorry. I’m certainly not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy the hell out of what we just did.”

 She couldn’t have hid her reaction from him, anyway. Chelle didn’t know he could smell her arousal, smell the juices soaking her panties. He stood and moved away from the loveseat, giving himself some breathing space.

 “What I’m about to tell you and show you will be difficult for you to accept. Try to suspend judgment for a while and above all, just… keep cool. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

 Michelle settled her back against the cushions of the couch. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She lifted her gaze to his and Jason read trust and something else, something warm and heated, soft and comforting in her steady gaze.

 “I’m not afraid of you, Jason.” A teasing smile widened her lips. “You make my heart stutter and my pulse race, but it isn’t with fear. My mouth is dry and my skin goose pebbled, but fear isn’t the cause of those symptoms, either. Not by a long shot.”

 The tight lump of dread that had his gut tied in knots loosened at her teasing. His heart soared with hope. She just might be able to accept Jonathan and him, to love them as they had come to love her. He felt justified in demanding the chance to approach her without the trickery of enthrallment or magic. She deserved the right to make an informed, conscious decision based on the facts alone.

 “There’s no other way to say this, but straight out. Michelle, I’m a Werewolf.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Eight

  

 Michelle sat on the edge of the couch, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jason said nothing after he delivered that bombshell, just paced up and down the length of the room, refusing to meet her gaze. “I don’t get it.”

 He turned then, hurried back toward the couch. “You don’t get what?”

 “The punch line. I guess that was a joke, but I don’t get it.”

 He looked grim. “I wasn’t joking. I am a Werewolf.”

 Chelle smiled. “Well, that explains the freshness of the cuts of beef and veal you serve in your restaurants.”

 “This is no laughing matter, Michelle. You’ve said several times that you didn’t understand why Jonathan would name his pet after his brother. He didn’t. I am the wolf you saw.”

 Michelle stopped smiling. Her heart ached for the man in front of her. “Jason,” she said softly, “how can you not know how special you are? You don’t need to make up stories to impress me. Have you ever wondered how I can tell you apart from Jonathan?”

 Jason shook his head. “What I don’t understand is how you could look into my eyes day after day and not see me there, in the wolf.”

 “Then show me.”

 “What?”

 Michelle thought to show him his error by using logic. “Show me the wolf. It’s full night, now. Werewolves change when the moon comes up, right?”

 Jason was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I don’t answer to the call of the moon.”

 “Does that mean you can’t change at night?”

 A crease appeared between Jason’s eyebrows. “I… don’t know.”

 “When’s the last time you tried?”

 He looked dumbstruck. “I never have.”

 “Men!” Michelle couldn’t suppress her chuckle. “Now would be a good time, don’t you think?”

 Jason hesitated. “You won’t be afraid?”

 “Probably, but don’t let that stop you.”

 “Okay, here I go. Don’t touch me until the transformation is complete.”

 Michelle raised her eyebrows in skepticism, letting her expression show him just how unlikely it was she’d be doing any touching before or after any changing took place. She held that expression until the air began to shimmer and dance around Jason, obscuring his form. Chelle blinked, squinted, trying to see past the sparkles. When the effect cleared, Jason had disappeared and in his place, solemn and stoic, sat the wolf.

 Untangling his hind legs from the pile of his clothing, Jason padded over to her. His golden eyes focused on hers, a pleading look in them that no wolf ever perfected. Slowly, he butted her lax hand with his head, begging for her touch as he’d done every day since her arrival.

 “Oh my God!” Chelle sank her hands in the thick fur of his ruff, heart pounding out of rhythm, pulse racing and thready. “You’re for real. You’re really the wolf, Jason.”

 The wolf leaned against her knees, accepting, as it always had, her hands on his fur, behind his ears. Up the side of his head…

 Whack!

 Startled, the wolf lost focus and began to shift. Michelle scooted back on the couch, drawing her legs up and tucking them beneath her. Jason emerged in man form, snatching up his shirt to hold at his groin.

 “What did you do that for?”

 Fuming, Chelle shook her finger at him, her anger spilling over as she recalled incidents that were no longer so innocent when seen through the 20/20 vision of hindsight. “That’s for sticking your muzzle in my crotch when you knew better. It’s also for sitting in my bathroom with your tongue lolling out while I was taking a shower, you voyeur!”

 Still muttering to herself, Michelle tucked her hands under her thighs and sat on them. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could resist the temptation to hit him again.

 Jason eyed her warily, his palm massaging his cheek. “I deserved that. Now that you’ve gotten it out of your system, are you ready to hear the rest of my news?”

 “The rest , you say? This wasn’t enough?” She flung her hands out and sighed. “Go ahead, then. Tell me the rest.”

 “Jonathan is a Vampire.”

 Michelle covered her eyes with her hands. She couldn’t help it -- she giggled. “There’s that other shoe.”

 She peeked through her fingers at Jason, who was looking at her with a worried expression on his handsome face. She didn’t blame him. She’d be worried too, if she had to watch a madwoman giggling and cackling, rocking back and forth in front of her.

 “Mother night,” Jason murmured, cautiously edging closer to her, “the knowledge was too much for her. It’s driven her insane. Damn it, I should have listened when Jonathan tried to warn me…”

 That snapped her out of her fit of hysteria faster than anything else could have. If there was one thing Michelle hated most, it was getting left out of the loop -- any loop. “No, you should not have listened to Jonathan. He doesn’t know everything -- especially everything about me! I’m glad you trusted in my intelligence enough to tell me the truth.”

 Jason’s shoulders relaxed. Turning his back to her, he tugged on his pants, leaving them unzipped and unbuttoned. “I felt you had the right to make your own decision based on true knowledge, even if you decided against choosing to stay with us.” He eyed the armchair across the room then swung his gaze back to the empty spot on the couch. “May I sit back down or are you going to throw me out?”

 Michelle rubbed the back of her neck. “No, Jason. I’m not going to throw you out, and yes, you can sit back down.”

 “Beside you?”

 That brought a grudging laugh. He sounded so much like a little boy trying to wheedle his mom out of an extra ten minutes before bedtime, yet his well-built physique screamed virile man.

 “Didn’t I tell you I’m not afraid of you?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but patted the cushion. “Yeah, beside me, though it was a good thing you got that kiss before you dropped all those bombs.”

 Jason sank down next to her and swiveled his torso to face her. “I didn’t expect you to be so calm about this, or to believe me without a lot more proof.”

 She thought back to what she’d seen while on her shopping excursion. There’d been that man with the pointed ears and the slitted pupils, not to forget a salon full of strange looking women flitting about talking and singing at the top of their voices… in rhyme.

 That last might not seem so extraordinary to most people, but Michelle helped write dialogue for video games. She knew exactly how difficult it was coming up with a rhyming conversation that actually made sense.

 “I think you can blame Chimera for that.” Michelle huffed. “If I hadn’t seen a Dragon fly across the sky this afternoon, I’d more than likely be headed for the loony bin right now. ’Course, there’s hardly any better proof than watching you actually turn into a wolf before my very eyes.”

 “You’ve put Chimera’s two and two together very well.” Jason looked impressed with her acumen. “In fact, you’d be surprised how few people ever realize how unique and different Chimera Island truly is.”

 Chelle felt the half smile tugging on the corner of her lip. “Most people are hardwired to see only what they expect to see, Jason. In my line of work, I’m used to looking for the unusual.”

 “Thank goodness for that! Now, it’s your turn. I know you have questions.” Jason got more comfortable on the couch. “Okay, I’m ready. Ask away…”

 “You could see that insatiable curiosity written on my face, huh?”

 Jason chuckled, nodded his head. “Something like that, yes.”

 “What I really want to know more about is why Jonathan is a Vampire and you’re a Werewolf. I mean, why are you two separate kinds of beings -- why not two Vampires, or two Werewolves? I want to know what happened to you, how you were changed into what you are now.”

 “I’d like to answer that, if I may?”

 Jonathan stood in the doorway, hands buried in his pockets. His pretense of casual disinterest almost fooled her. Then she met his anguished gaze. His golden eyes were stark with longing and terror. They stared at her from a face held stiff and remote, soundlessly begging for a chance to plead his case with her. Not breathing, he stood there open, vulnerable… awaiting her answer.

 Chelle looked him over, heart tripping as she took in the length and breadth of his mouth-watering body. His black button down shirt hung open; the tails rucked up around his wrists. Black Dockers covered his lower body in a sexy drape of cloth that did nothing to hide his bold state of arousal.

 “Smile,” she commanded. Her voice came out neutral but firm, just as she intended.

 Jonathan’s body jerked. He caught himself and dropped his hands down by his side, masking his uncertainty with an even stiffer stance. Jason startled at her side, pulling back to eye her askance.

 “Why?” Jon asked, wary of why she was asking.

 “I want to see your fangs.”

 He didn’t smile. Drawing back his lips, he bared his fangs. If she hadn’t quite believed his claim, she did now. The predator before her was real. Primal terror sang in her blood. The prey always knew when to grow still and quiet, to lay low in hopes the hunter would overlook their wildly beating heart and pumping blood…

 … And then he was back to normal, eyes miserable and resigned. “I did not ever want to see fear in your eyes,” he whispered, a wet film glossing the gold of his sorrowing gaze. One tear welled and overflowed down his cheek. He blinked and the misty veil of tears banished, yet the sadness remained. “If even I find myself monstrous, how could I hope you would not?” He braced himself, turned away from the door and made to leave.

 How could she let him leave? This was the man who had taken one look at her swimsuit-clad body and been driven to kiss her as if seeking to quench his soul at her lips. This same man had shown her at every turn how much he desired her, yet had not rushed her.

 Beside her, Jason stirred, captured one of her hands in his. “Let him talk… please. Jon is much more articulate than I. He can help you understand what we are and how we came to be like this.”

 They could have taken her and made her love it that first afternoon. Instead, they’d given her the gift of time to become comfortable in her body. They had given her a different perspective on her own beauty. Seen through their eyes, she had found new worth in herself.

 Most importantly, Chelle acknowledged, Jonathan and Jason could have fucked her this evening -- they all knew the truth of how their date was to have ended -- without ever revealing their secrets to her.

 Their actions tonight told Chelle all she needed to know about her soon-to-be lovers. She knew, beyond a doubt, they would never willingly hurt her -- physically or emotionally. They had proved tonight that they would rather she turned them away now, before she committed herself to them, than risk having her growing love turn into resentment if she learned their truth after the fact.

 Her fear evaporated. In its place, love reared up, pushing aside all other emotions. Chelle quickly came to a decision. “Jonathan, wait.”

 Squeezing the large hand surrounding hers, Chelle nodded her assent to Jason’s silent urging. “Come on in, Jon. You might as well join this party.”

 Curiosity, Chelle admitted to herself, was one of her failings. Faced with the opportunity to hear Jonathan’s version of their story, she knew herself incapable of allowing that chance to pass her by.

  

  

  

 Chapter Nine

  

 Here I am, squished between a Vampire on my left and a Werewolf on my right… how strange that I feel no fear of them! She’d ended up stuffed between the two brothers. Chelle hadn’t expected Jon to shift her over to make room for himself at her other side, but upon reflection, she realized he wouldn’t tolerate anything less. Jason might be the Werewolf, but Jonathan was the alpha brother. He’d never relegate himself to the isolation of the lone armchair while she and Jason occupied the loveseat.

 It was a tight fit that felt good. Firm, masculine thighs flanked hers, pressed against her with warmth and urgency. She didn’t have to guess or wonder if they desired her -- their twin erections tented their slacks, made bold ridges beneath the straining cloth.

 Jason wouldn’t let go of her hand, so Jonathan settled for resting his arm over her shoulders. She shivered as he brushed his fingers over her cinnamon-plum hair, still caught up on the styling rods. A slight tug at one rolled curl caused a sharp sting at her scalp. Chelle reached one hand up to ease the discomfort. “Ouch! Watch it, that’s attached!”

 “Why did you do this to yourself?” Jon asked, hand moving to another curl and tugging. She realized he was taking the rods out. At her other side, Jason caught on and began undoing the ones closest to him.

 “What are you guys doing? Stop, they’re not dry yet.” She batted at their busy hands, trying to halt the destruction of her hairdo.

 They ignored her and moved on to the next and the next curlers. “You don’t need these. We love your hair the way it’s been all week.”

 “In fact,” Jason paused and tipped her chin up, waiting until she met his playful gaze, “I don’t like this… stuff in your hair. It feels stiff and icky. Later, when we’re finished talking, I want you to wash it out.”

 Chelle huffed. “Wash it out? Do you know how much time I spent putting it in?”

 “We’ll help.” Jonathan’s growled promise set butterflies fluttering in her belly. She could just imagine him helping her, his large hands swirling soap over her scalp while he stood under the flow of cascading water, his bare body close and hot and…

 Chelle shook off her daydream. “I’ll bet,” she mumbled under her breath.

 “Werewolves and Vampires have exceptional hearing,” Jon informed her, tongue in cheek. Then he leaned over, put his tongue in her cheek and moved it around quite vigorously.

 She melted right down to a pat of butter, which only made her pliable and eager to press back against Jason’s side as his hand came up and cupped her breast through her robe.

 “Michelle, lift your leg over Jason’s lap.” His left hand under her right knee, Jon was already helping her as he spoke.

 She’d felt secure in the knowledge -- packed in as she was between them -- that no serious play could take place while they were wedged in the confines of the loveseat. Now she gasped into Jonathan’s mouth, shaking, as Jason’s palm slid up the inside of her thigh and cupped her mons through the silky tap pants she’d donned.

 This was the second time tonight he’d taken an aggressive role with her and the unexpectedness of his actions threw her off kilter. Before she had time to catch her breath, his hand moved. His fingers crept under the wide lace leg of her undies to explore her wet and swollen folds.

 She cried out, arching into his touch, her whimpers muffled by Jonathan’s mouth, her lips taken and mastered by Jonathan’s rampant tongue. Jon’s right arm was a tight band around her shoulders holding her in place while his left hand plucked her nipples. Jason burrowed his mouth in the bend of her neck, licking and tasting her sensitive skin while his fingers plundered between her legs, pushing past her tight opening and stretching her narrow channel.

 “Michelle, look at me!”

 She opened her eyes and met Jason’s golden stare. The expression on his face shocked her into stillness. Features stern, mouth set in implacable lines, he was watching her helpless reactions to the combined assault of four arms, twenty fingers and both their mouths working her flesh.

 “You think Jonathan the alpha among us.” His mouth tightened, thinned lips showing his displeasure. “But I’m the first one to penetrate you. Jonathan touched your panties, but I’m the one fingering your pussy. Feel me,” he demanded, scissoring his fingers inside her, stirring her in profound places that clenched and wept for a harder touch.

 Jonathan’s mouth had moved to her shoulders, nipping along her collarbone as Jason pelted her with his intense words. Lips skimming her sensitive nape, he whispered how much he loved the taste of her skin, the feel of her like silk against his lips, begged her to let them have her, let them both love her as they needed to.

 Jason’s gaze burned into hers as his fingers grew more insistent, drawing her heated cream down in torrents. “You’ll take my cock first -- in your mouth, in your pussy… wherever I want you. I’ll be the first inside you… and the last.”

 He slipped his thigh out from under hers and stood up slowly. Jason pulled his fingers from the suction of her tight sheath and Jonathan instantly replaced them with his own. Using both hands, Jason unbuttoned his pants and slid his zipper down, revealing that he wore no briefs beneath his slacks. He pulled the edges of his pants apart, releasing his cock. Eyes locked on hers, he toed his shoes off, pushed the slacks down and off, and removed his shirt.

 Chelle gaped at him, struggled to breathe. Jonathan never stopped touching her, peppering her skin with hot kisses, but her attention was riveted on Jason’s upstanding flesh. His proud erection waved above his abdomen, thrusting toward her like the stiff mast of a seagoing ship. Thick and sturdy, the head purpled with lust and engorged with blood, shaft snaked about with ropy veins; his penis was a work of beauty crafted by a thoughtful creator.

 Jason came back to where she half reclined. Placing one knee on the sofa beside her, he braced his other leg against the back of the small couch. In that position, his cock was a little higher than her mouth. Encircling his hard flesh with an unsteady fist, Jason pointed it toward Chelle’s mouth. “Suck me.”

 Her womb clenched at the hard demand in Jason’s voice. Who’d have guessed he’d be the dominant one in the sexual arena? She liked it, though, liked his commanding tones and firm, sure hands. There was nothing tentative about him right now and she quivered down low at what else he might demand of her.

 He tapped his penis against her lips. “I said, suck me.”

 Bending her head obediently, she slowly engulfed just the head of his cock, wondering how much of his thick length she could accommodate. Her tongue swirled about the tip, dipping into the small slit, gathering the dribbled drops of sweet and salty pre-come.

 A groan vibrated against her, bringing her out of her self-absorption. Jonathan slipped from her side and went to his knees on the floor. His hands shaking also, he placed his palms between her legs and parted her knees, making way for his shoulders. With another groan, he brought her hips to the edge of the couch and lowered his head to her silk-covered mons.

 Lightning flickered along her nerves, danced in her blood as he lapped at her through the thin shield of underwear. Chelle moaned around a mouthful of cock, rocking her hips against Jon’s mouth, her entire body trembling at the crashing waves of passion ripping through her.

 Lost in the tempest of their combined lusts, she barely felt Jason cradling her head in his hands, smoothly taking over control as she lost it. Bracing one knee against the back of the loveseat, he leaned over, rhythmically pumping his cock back and forth in her mouth.

 His cock drove in too far and Chelle, fighting a gag reflex, brought a hand up to regulate how deeply he penetrated her throat. She whimpered, gagging stronger when Jon reached up and captured both her hands, holding them imprisoned behind her back as his brother surged back, deeper. “Relax, Jason is driving.”

 Jason is driving… Her arousal began to fade as uncertainty crowded her thoughts. Don’t I have a say ? Chelle rolled her eyes over and down, trying to see Jonathan’s face and he obligingly lifted his head from between her thighs and met her worried gaze. His bright gold eyes glowed with inner fire, burned with rising excitement. “You can trust Jason, honey. We only want to make you come so hard and strong you’ll never feel unbeautiful again.”

 Her heart trembled. How did they know she still felt so unworthy at times -- ugly and unwanted? Oh, God, they make me feel so naked and exposed !

 She mumbled, trying to speak around the cock filling her mouth and invading her throat. Jonathan placed a string of kisses over her abdomen, swept his hands up and down the outside of her thighs, soothing her agitation and bringing her attention back to the lush feelings he’d engendered in her before.

 Jason touched her cheek, pressed in. She could feel his finger tracking the movements of his cock through her skin. “Do you want me to stop, Michelle?”

 … you’ll never feel unbeautiful again … Chelle thought of their promise, of the way they always let her know how much they wanted her. She thought of the way Jason, as the wolf, always whined and begged for her touch… and shook her head no. She didn’t want him to stop. Not ever.

 “I need you to swallow, sweetheart,” Jason ordered, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as his fingers grasped the back of her head and continued moving her on his long erection. “Open your throat for me, honey, and I’ll slide right down…”

 Jonathan’s fingers grappled with the front closure of her bra, quickly divesting her of the clinging cups along with the robe that had gaped open under the ministration of the brothers’ amorous handling. And then his hands gripped the waistband of her tap pants. “Lift up, babe.”

 She lifted -- the anticipation of having his lips and hands on her uncovered flesh dewing the crotch of her undies -- and he tugged her silken garments down and off. He brought the scrap of silk to his face, inhaling deeply of her fragrance before placing them neatly on the floor at his side.

 Chelle gasped when Jon buried his head back in her lap and began driving her crazy with his mouth and hands. With the building ecstasy as incentive, she found it very easy to follow Jason’s instructions and swallow every time he sank past her lips.

 It began to feel good, the thick, hard bar of flesh scoring the sensitive flesh inside her mouth as it shuttled back and forth. Jason’s hands tightened about her face; hers came up and gripped his hips, fingers sinking into the tight curve of his flexing buttocks.

 She soon caught his rhythm, opening wide and swallowing as he sank in, surging down her throat, hollowing her cheeks and sucking, seeking to keep him with her as he drew out on a long, slow glide that burned the patience right out of her.

 “Oh, yes! Yes, Chelle, suck me hard, darling. Take me all the way down your sweet throat.” Jason bunched his fists in her hair, tugging her forward as he pushed his thick shaft in and out.

 Hips bucking under Jon’s continued carnal assault, Chelle dug her fingernails into Jason’s flanks and yanked him forward as she greedily attacked, overriding his nominal control. Heart pounding, heat roaring through her blood, she sucked on his cock, slurping at the head like it was a flavored treat as she ground her pussy down on Jonathan’s busy mouth. Jason’s body rocked under her frenzied attack and she gripped the firm globes of his ass tighter to hold him steady as she bobbed her head up and down on her own personal masculine lollipop.

 “Oh hell, Jon, you need to feel this!”

 Jonathan brought his head up, his face smeared with Chelle’s intimate juices. His fingers took the place of his mouth as he answered his brother. “I’m feeling it, Jas.” He had to be speaking of the ability they both had to feel what the other felt.

 “No, I mean you need to experience this -- Chelle’s mouth on your cock, sucking you into oblivion.” He pulled his cock out of her mouth, fighting her as she tried to hold on to him, reluctant to let him go. “If I don’t stop now, you’ll bring me. Chelle, sweetheart, I want to come in your pussy, not in your mouth.” Jason drew Chelle up from the couch and cradled her in his arms.

 “So, switch?” Jon asked.

 “Better yet, get your clothes off and we’ll move this to a more comfortable venue.” Jonathan obediently stood and stripped his black shirt off. His pants and shoes were discarded as quickly.

 Chelle slapped her hand against Jason’s flank in a fit of pique. “Dominant men are wonderful in a fantasy, but in real life, I get a say.”

 Both men turned to her. Virtually identical, they stood before her, six feet, four inches of trim, muscular sex appeal. Hands relaxed at their sides, obviously comfortable in their skins, the brothers offered themselves to her, their twin cocks standing firm and erect. “We certainly don’t want to muck up your fantasy. So, Chelle,” Jason smiled at her, stepping into her personal space, “what do you say -- wanna get fucked by two men who want to help you fulfill all your fantasies?”

 Chelle glanced down at those two upstanding shafts and her stomach muscles tightened. She gulped. “By both of you?”

 “Yes.”

 “Yes,” Jonathan echoed, his eyes gleaming with lust and something more, something deeper, as they roamed over her full breasts and the trimmed V at the apex of her thighs.

 Those butterflies were back. Chelle pressed a hand to her belly, trying to settle her nervousness. “I’ve never had… No one’s ever taken me in…” Her words trailed off and she gestured vaguely behind her.

 Jason quirked an eyebrow, his expression intrigued. “Are you saying you’re an anal virgin?”

 She nodded. “Oh Lord, this is so embarrassing.”

 “There’s no need to be embarrassed, darling.” He took her in his arms. “If it will make you more comfortable, we won’t go there this first time. In fact, we’ll never go there unless you’re totally willing.” His voice deepened. “We’re not after a gratifying fuck, Chelle. Yes, we want to fuck you, but we want a whole lot more than that. We want a relationship with you.”

 “What kind of relationship?”

 “Marriage,” Jason said.

 “Forever,” Jonathan whispered.

 Warmth flowed through Chelle from her heart outward. In all her adult life, she’d never received a marriage proposal. Hell, before coming to Chimera, she’d never been on three dates with the same man. And now these two men, who could have had any woman they set their fancy on, saw something in her she’d never seen in herself. Tears overflowed as she realized they wanted her as their wife and the mother of their children. Jason and Jonathan were offering her more than she’d ever dreamed.

 “Oh, babe, please don’t cry! You don’t have to answer now. We know we haven’t even gotten around to telling you our story yet.”

 “Yes.”

 “We got carried away. We didn’t mean to, but we can slow things down and --”

 Chelle placed her hand over Jason’s mouth and said, “Yes!” again, laughing as her tears continued to fall.

 “Yes --?” Jon asked, eyes going incandescent. He stepped up to her other side, his arms engulfing her from behind. “Yes, you’ll be ours?”

 “Yes!” She shouted it this time, throwing back her head and returning both their embraces. “Yes, yes, yes!”

 “But you haven’t even heard our story --!”

 “So tell it to me… later.” Chelle reached down and took their cocks in her hands. “Right now, I want that fuck you offered me. Am I going to get it?”

 Jason exchanged a speaking glance with Jonathan and they both laughed aloud. Together, they leaned in and kissed her cheeks before Jason said, “Hell, yeah, are you ever gonna get it!”

 Jonathan snatched her off her feet and headed for her bedroom. Jason brought up the rear and Chelle turned her head to smile at him over Jon’s shoulder.

 “Mother night!” Jon breathed, coming to an abrupt stop in the open doorway of Chelle’s bedroom. Jason glanced over his brother’s back to see what had stopped him in his tracks and his mouth dropped open. “By the Moon!”

 “What is it, what’s wrong?” Chelle asked them, dread spilling like ice water along her veins. They sounded so strange. What could have sobered them so?

  

  

  

 Chapter Ten

  

 Jonathan slowly set Chelle on her feet, letting her body slide down his front in a sensual glide of skin against skin. “Put it on.”

 She looked at the brothers. They stood in the doorway, transfixed by the vision lying across her bed. “My dress?” Could that be the problem?

 “I’ve got to see you in it. Please put it on.”

 “Jon!” Chelle wailed. “Isn’t getting dressed counter-productive? I thought we were going to make love.”

 “And we still will. I can definitely get behind fucking you while you’re wearing that swirl of seduction.”

 Chelle couldn’t hold in her laughter. That clerk had sure called it right. Every woman needed such a dress in her arsenal. Still laughing, she walked over and scooped up the dress. “Okay, big shot. I’ll be glad to put this on for you. I was planning to wear it for our date, tonight.”

 She slid the dress on over her head, shimmied to let the fluttering cloth fall down about her hips. Her unbound breasts peeked from the deeply draped crimson bodice.

 “Moonlight and shadows, baby,” Jason’s voice trembled as he watched her shimmering in the low light of the room. “You look like a living flame. I want to sink into you and burn up in your fire.”

 She held her arms out in welcome. “Come on, then. Let’s burn together.”

 They both answered her call, bracketing her between them. Facing her, Jason brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles before bending to her lips. Jonathan’s arms slid under hers, reached inside the loose bodice and took her breasts in his hands. His palm rotated over one nipple while the other thumb and forefinger plucked at the other pert crest as he nuzzled his face in the warm bend of her neck.

 Chelle cried out, pressing backward to feel the thick bar of Jon’s cock riding the crease of her buttocks. Her arms came up and dragged Jason closer, meshing her lips and tongue with his in a sultry kiss.

 Not to be outdone, Jason stepped even closer, slid a leg between Chelle’s thighs and used one arm to support her as he slid her up and down his muscled length. Chelle moaned, the pleasure spiking as her pussy pressed against the bulging muscles in Jason’s thigh. She wrapped a leg about his hips and let him move her as he would.

 And then the two men proved two lovers were better than one. In the first of several orchestrated moves, Jonathan’s hands abandoned her breasts to play through the filmy panels of her flame-bright dress, seeking the wet clasp of her tight sheath. Before she had time to miss them, Jason’s mouth replaced Jon’s hands. His lips closed about one pouting tip, applying strong suction to the straining nipple, drowning her in wet hot excitement.

 “Oh yes, Jason, yes! That feels so good!” Chelle’s legs weakened under the dual assault of the brothers. Hands, mouths and teeth roamed and nipped, sipped and slid, tasted every inch, every quivering spot on her body.

 Chelle felt the world tumble about her as Jason swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed. Sweeping the covers back one-handedly, he stretched her out on the silk sheets.

 Her back slid against the sheet’s satiny smoothness, the chill quickly giving way to the warmth generated by the male body coming down over her, mantling her with hair-dusted hardness, heated sinew and corded muscles.

 “Spread your legs for me, sweet thing. Let me in, let me love you.” Jason’s gruff words thrilled her. Her heart racing, Chelle opened her legs and her eyes, loving the naked expression of devotion in Jason’s eyes as he fit himself between her drawn up knees. Wrapping his fist around his erection, he rubbed the bulbous tip along the swollen lips of her vagina, glazing his head in the slippery moisture coating her labia.

 “Oh, babe, I’ve got to get inside you…”

 Chelle retained enough brain cells to croak, “Condom --?”

 Jason gave a pained chuckle, the wide head of his cock pressing against her narrow opening. “Werewolf -- we have no known diseases. And we want children, remember?”

 “Tonight?” The thought alarmed her.

 “No, my love, not tonight, but soon. We want you to ourselves for a while.”

 “Then…”

 Jason sighed. “Chelle, you’re not fertile right now. I’d know if you were. A wolf always knows when his mate is in heat.”

 “Do you promise?” Chelle wanted a chance to get to really know the men she’d promised to marry. Having a child -- or a cub or a mini-Vamp? -- right away didn’t seem like the best course to take.

 Jason drew closer. His hands bracketed her face, forcing her to pay attention. “I give you my solemn word we will never lie to you. Never.”

 The stern look in his eyes convinced her. “Oh, Jason, I love you.”

 “Hey, what about me?” Jonathan leaned over and took her lips before she had a chance to answer.

 His kiss rivaled the one they’d shared on the beach, earlier. Heat flashed through her as his tongue pressed for entry at the seam of her lips. She opened to him, melting as his kiss burned through her like sheet lightning.

 Jon finally lifted his head and sat back with a smile. Chelle hid her own smile. He looked so cute sitting there, waiting for her to praise him like a little boy who’d passed a difficult test. How could she not love him?

 Chelle reached up and touched his cheek. “Jonathan, you’re adorable and I love you as much as I love Jason.”

 “Speaking of loving Jason, I want some.” Jason flicked a look at his brother. “Give Jonathan your mouth, Chelle. Suck his cock while I fuck your sweet pussy.”

 Jon stacked several pillows under her head, cushioning her neck. On his knees, he positioned himself so his thighs bracketed her head, leaving his cock dangling above her mouth. “Do you want me, sweetheart?”

 “Oh yes, Jon. I want you both.”

 “Then take me.” He rubbed his purpled cock head over her lips, pressing in as she opened to accept him. The salty-sweet taste of him was darkly exotic and at the same time, very much reminiscent of Jason. Feeling more relaxed, she easily deep-throated him, loving the masculine groans and moans escaping him as she worked her lips up and down his shuttling penis.

 As she took Jon deep, Jason chose that time to sink his fingers in the rounded globes of her ass and lift her into his thrust. His first plunge took him deep and her hips rose to meet him, fire licking along the walls of her sheath. She pulled her mouth away from Jon long enough to gasp, “Merciful God, you feel huge inside me!”

 “And you are so tight, so hot,” he praised. “Oh, babe, fuck me back. Throw your hips up at me!”

 Jon slid his hands down to her waist and raised her pelvis up, offering her body to Jason, lifting her into his brother’s powerful thrusts. “Oh fuck, honey,” Jonathan whispered, “the two of you look so hot together.”

 His cock grazed her lips and Chelle sucked him back in, working her tongue into the leaking slit in the broad crown. The brothers set up a stirring rhythm, pounding her pussy and mouth in tandem.

 Chelle whimpered softly, almost gritting her teeth at the painful ecstasy of being fucked so hard her breasts jounced with each thrust. She loved the feeling of having both pussy and mouth overfilled with the long, beautiful cocks of her two lovers.

 They loved her forever, their stamina and longevity a sensual surprise she figured she owed to their otherworldly makeup. Just how long could a Vampire and Werewolf fuck, anyway? Long enough to satisfy her, that was for sure. Chelle smiled, her body racing for the finish line like a sprinter in the last leg of the race.

 Jonathan’s thighs went rigid. “Oh hell, Jas… I can’t hold out much longer. I’m about to come…” His cock grew harder and longer, choking off her breath for a quick moment before he pulled out so his flushed head rested on the flat of her tongue. With a loud roar, Jon spewed his seed in her mouth, the blasts so strong the jets splashed off the back wall of her throat before rushing on down, finally pooling in her belly.

 Jon collapsed, hunched over in a tired sprawl and latched onto a bobbing breast. The hot press of his lips engulfed one stiff nipple while his fingers tugged at Chelle’s other jutting tip, plucking the strings that connected her breasts and her pussy.

 Jason waited until Jonathan’s limp cock had slid out of Chelle’s mouth and his brother had rolled to his side, eyes trained on the point where Jas and Chelle were joined. “My turn…”

 Sliding his hands under her thighs, Jason rolled Chelle up and leaned on the back of her thighs, hips flexing as he shafted his mate without mercy. Mouth free of Jon’s cock, her cries rang in the dimly lit room, urging her lover on with words designed to enflame his passion to the utmost.

 They must have worked, for Jason growled at her, sent his hips slamming into hers. “Oh love,” he grunted, “oh love, I’m coming…”

 His hand reached, fingers pressing and rubbing over her clit, sending shards of diamond bright sensation shooting from the knot of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

 “Jason!” The climax crashed into her, twirling her into a field of stars, snapping her spine into a taut bow. A scream started low in her throat, built, grew until it burst free in a wordless cry of victory.

 They came together, his sperm jetting high inside her, hot and potent, triggering a second, more powerful orgasm that stretched her on the torture rack of a pleasure so great the edges of it blurred her vision.

 The descent from the mountains of joy was so peaceful, so gradual; she tumbled into unconsciousness before ever truly returning to a sense of her body’s boundaries. Snuggled between two blankets of warmth, Chelle slept deeply.

  

  

  

 Chapter Eleven

  

 Wide awake, Jonathan lay on the far side of Michelle, watching her and his brother dreaming. They’d slept for a little under an hour. Jason lay on his side, his arms wrapped tight around their mate’s waist, his legs bracketing hers.

 As a Vampire that walked by day, Jon did require a certain amount of downtime during the night, but he’d conditioned himself to doing with as little as possible. He’d have to sleep soon, but not before he’d had his own turn inside Chelle’s hot wet pussy. He wanted something else, too. He wanted a drink of her dark crimson nectar.

 She’d receive the benefit of being able to hear them telepathically if he bit her, but Jon didn’t kid himself he wanted it for her good, alone. Amorous lust spiked blood lust and he’d been lusting after Michelle for what seemed like forever. Nobody else’s blood would do, just as no other woman’s body would satisfy him.

 Their Michelle was a generous, loving woman. If the night was kind, perhaps she would take pity on him and trust him enough to allow him a sip. Jonathan sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position. If they didn’t wake soon, he’d help them along. His hunger was growing apace.

  

 Jason stirred first. Jon watched his brother’s hands tighten on Chelle’s lax body just before his eyes opened. He scanned the room, on the alert, eyes gleaming with the blue-gold phosphorescence of the wolf. A distant boom sounded -- Jason jumped, jerking upright, his body automatically shielding the slumbering woman at his side.

 “Everything’s cool. It’s all right,” Jon soothed, quietly. “It’s just the fireworks display going on down at the beach.”

 His brother relaxed once he realized there was no immediate danger to their mate. “I’d forgotten about those,” Jason whispered back, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb Michelle. “That means it must be after eleven. We were supposed to take Chelle to see them. I hope she won’t mind having missed the fireworks.”

 “What on earth makes you think I missed any fireworks? The explosions you two lit inside me had me seeing stars.” Chelle leaned over and dropped a kiss on Jason’s lips, and then turned and did the same to Jonathan.

 “Are you sore?” He couldn’t control the harshness of his voice. Need rode him like an insistent hag. He closed his eyes and breathed in her personal scent. “How sore are you?”

 A cool hand touched his face. “I’m not sore and I want you, too. Please make love to me.”

 Jon opened his eyes and had to blink away a wavy sheet of moisture. She was lying, but he reached for her anyway, pulled her over to his side of the bed. “Jason?”

 His brother gave him a sharp look. “Turn your head this way, Jon, let me see your eyes.”

 His first instinct was to refuse, to avert his head and hide the intensity of his need. He should have known better. Jon had never been able to keep anything from his sibling.

 “You can’t just take it.”

 Jason’s erroneous assumption made him angry. “I would never do that to her. I intend to ask.”

 Jason nodded tersely. “And you’ll abide by her answer, too.”

 “Always.”

 “Ask me what?” Chelle looked between Jon and Jas.

 “Cool.” Jason tucked both arms behind his head, propped his back against the headboard and prepared to enjoy the show. “In that case, I’m good. I’ll just watch this round.”

 “Jonathan… what do you need to ask me?” The snarl in her voice told him she grew impatient. In the end, he couldn’t just blurt out his request.

 “I… oh, Chelle, I hunger for you, for a taste of you.”

 She relaxed into his embrace and smiled against his chest. “I’ve already told you I want you, too.”

 “Not just your body… I -- need more .”

 She pulled back, eyes gone wide and he hastened to explain, his words clumsy and very unlike his usual savoir-faire. “I -- uh… it’s because I want you so terribly, that the hunger has grown beyond my denial. I’ve not drunk direct from a lover’s body since the sorcerer changed me into a day-walker. The blood-lust grows proportionate to the heart-lust… and my heart lusts for you like the parched land desires the summer rain.”

 “You want to bite me.” Her voice shook, but her words held no horror. Or maybe she simply hid her true reaction.

 “If you’ll let me, one benefit to you will be becoming telepathic with us. And if we do it at the moment of climax, you will have such pleasure…” He broke off, the vision of taking her blood as he spilled his seed deep in her welcoming pussy stealing his breath… “We will know such ecstasy the gods shall envy us!”

 “Well hell, I can’t pass that up, can I?” Chelle rolled to her side and draped one well-fleshed thigh over Jon’s leg, revealing the big smile wreathing her beautiful dark face.

 “I knew you were a Vampire when I said yes, earlier. That ‘yes’ covered everything involved. How could I accept you without accepting you would eventually want to bite me? I’ll tell you the truth… I’ve always had a Vampire fantasy. This is the best of both worlds for me, because I simply can’t wrap my mind around the thought you would ever hurt me. As long as I’m sure of that one fact, I’m open to any experiment.”

 Jon crushed her to his chest, a burning sensation making him squeeze his eyes shut before liquid overflowed them. “Mother night, Chelle -- you are the answer to all our prayers.”

 Her arms came around him just as tightly. Her mouth pressed to his right nipple, she whispered, “You two are the answer to dreams, to prayers I never dared to pray.”

 Jason stirred against the headboard. “I’ve changed my mind.”

 Jonathan’s head came up. His fangs flashed. Jason laughed at him. “Cut it out. You know the rules. I command at night, you lead in the daytime.”

 “That’s going to change,” Chelle warned, untangling her leg from Jon’s. “I’m going to want my turn being in charge.”

 “Woman,” Jason shook his head, “don’t you know you rule us both?” He glanced over at Jon. “I don’t want to change the status quo much. But I do want some kisses. If you fuck her facing out, I’ll be able to play with her tits and kiss her to my heart’s content. When the time comes, all you’ll have to do is sit up to take her neck.”

 “That okay with you, Chelle?” Jon ran his hands up her flanks under her dress, brushing the sides of her breasts, fingers flirting with her nipples. He loved watching, loved feeling them stiffen and jut out invitingly. Dipping his head, he took one impudent tip into his mouth, drawing on it with strong suction.

 “Oh God, yes, that’s fine by me!” She gripped his head and held him at her breast, trying to coax him into taking more. “Damn, you make me so wet!”

 “Are you wet, honey? Let me see!” Jon rooted through the limp chiffon of her dress, found the slippery opening to her vagina and ran his fingers through the flooded channel. “Mhmm! You’re good and wet. We won’t need much foreplay for you.”

 “She can have her play before, during and after,” Jason promised, lifting the dress out of the way so he could watch his brother’s fingers pumping in and out of her clinging pussy.

 Jon glanced down too, loving the look of her swollen labia glistening with the dew of her desire. “Jas, help her lose the dress. It’s ruined anyway. Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he promised when Chelle bemoaned the loss of her beautiful frock. “This one did its job well.” He chuckled.

 So did Jason. “We’ll buy you a hundred more just for the privilege of ripping them off you or fucking you in them.”

 Chelle lifted her arms and let Jason remove the dress. It floated away, sheer as moonlight, light as swans down. Naked, she drew her shoulders back and presented her breasts to the brothers’ avid stares.

 Jon felt her shiver as their four hands pampered her flesh, petted and plucked her nipples, delved between her vaginal lips to play with her clit and spread her butt cheeks to prod her puckered sphincter. “One day soon, you’re going to beg me to take you here. But not tonight,” he added when she stiffened and stilled.

 “Chelle, I want you to straddle me, now.” Jon held her steady as she turned her back to his chest and lowered herself over him. “No, honey, I don’t want you to mount me yet. Just sit on my belly so my cock rides between your legs.”

 “Okay, now what?”

 “Now use your hands and pull your vaginal lips apart so Jason can see your clit and the sweet meat of our pussy.”

 Chelle licked her lips. Under his hand, he felt her stomach muscles jumping. “That’s it. Can you see her, Jason? Doesn’t she look sweet?”

 Jason’s head was bowed, his gaze riveted to the dripping morsel between Chelle’s wide-spread legs. “I see her. You’re making me hungry, Jon.”

 “That’s the idea, brother,” Jon whispered, capturing Chelle’s arms by looping his over hers from the back. His legs came up and over hers, stretching them obscenely wide. In effect, she was spread and held immobile, unable to struggle. “Try to escape, Chelle.”

 She did, with no success. Breathing hard, she subsided, letting her head fall back onto Jon’s chest.

 “How does it feel, being held captive, love? Do you like it? Doesn’t it heighten the thrill for you?”

 She tilted her head up toward him, met his knowing gaze. “Hell yeah, it’s a rush. How the hell did you know, when I didn’t?”

 “You like dominant men, babe. Stands to reason you’d like being dominated.” He looked over at Jason. “You haven’t tasted her, yet, bro. I want you to eat her pussy.” Jon waited until Jason had moved into place between Chelle’s legs. “Not like that, Jas. Change to wolf.”

 “Huh?” Chelle bucked in his grasp, her attempt at escape no more rewarded than the prior ones had been.

 “Hush, sweetheart. You said earlier your ‘yes’ covered everything. If you can’t accept Jason as the wolf, knowing he’s still your husband no matter what shape he wears, then you haven’t accepted him at all. Or me.” His eyes met Jason’s wary ones. “Do it.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Twelve

  

 Chelle’s entire body moved with her panting breaths, the pounding of her racing pulse. She shook her head frantically from side to side, eyes wide and frightened.

 His voice more a growl than a whisper, Jason stared at her pussy, not her panicked face. “I can smell your arousal. I see the cream you just gushed. You want this -- you simply don’t want to admit it.”

 Jon exchanged a knowing glance with his brother while he spoke to Chelle. “I’m holding you so you can pretend you have no say in this. But you do. If you want us to proceed, simply stop shaking your head. If not…”

 Chelle’s head movements came to an abrupt halt.

 “Thank you for your honesty,” Jason rasped, even as his body began to change and shift. Soon he hunkered between Chelle’s legs, the tip of his muzzle slowly inching toward her exposed pussy. Just before he made contact, he drew back and lifted his massive head to make eye contact with his mate. Staring into her eyes, he whined.

 “Jason says, ‘You are my mate. Accept me.’ He’s only going to lick and suck your pussy. When he brings you, it’ll be my turn to fuck you.”

 The wolf swiped his tongue over both nipples, one at a time, paying homage. Then he lowered his head.

 The first tentative lash bathed her from anus to clit, igniting a path of fiery sensations that almost blasted her head off her shoulders. Michelle bucked in Jon’s hold, secure in the knowledge she wouldn’t be able to gain her freedom.

 She didn’t want it, not really.

 Oh God, I’m such a nasty bitch! I can’t deny I want this! I want Jason licking and sucking my pussy, gnawing on my lips and worrying my clit.

 Oh glory!

 The second tongue swipe targeted her nether lips. Teeth nibbled delicately. Fangs that could rip out the throat of a deer daintily caught and almost pierced the plump bundle of nerves seated at the apex of her sex. Her nipples were so hard, they ached. The top of her thighs hurt where Jon had them stretched so far apart, held open to accommodate his brother’s ease. Her mate’s ease.

 Chelle raised her head, strained her neck to see Jason rooting in her vagina, his giant wolf form crouched on the bed between her splayed thighs. The sight made her heart skip a beat. Made her pulse pound. Made her wet.

 He stopped licking, stopped lapping up her running juices. He speared her flesh, rammed past her fluttering lips to impale her pussy with his rough animal tongue.

 She screamed. Oh God, the pleasure, the pleasure !

 So intense it burned, so overwhelming it shredded her nerves. It went on and on, never ending, never letting up. She never felt Jason backing away, shifting back into his man form. She did feel Jon lifting her, impaling her on his cock.

 Facing away from him, it was easy for him to enter her deeply. His cock rode up inside her, pushing its way past tight, elastic tissue that gave way under the determined advance.

 Then he was retreating, pulling out only long enough for him to surge back in with such force her breasts bounced on her chest.

 Her jiggling breasts caught Jason’s attention. Pressing close to her front, he took a nipple in his mouth, rolled the nub between the roof of his mouth and his still rough tongue.

 The pressure, the heat… too much, not enough!

 Jon freed her arms. His hands swept down and cupped the full globes of her ass. His fingers gripped her hips, used that hold to slam her down on his rigid cock repeatedly. Moaning and grunting with the effort of each mighty thrust, he mercilessly worked her pussy on the pole of his upstanding manhood.

 “God above, Jonathan, you’re so deep I can taste you in my throat!”

 On the tail end of that cry, Jason gave her his tongue and she sucked it in, desperate to have something of her own to work.

 “That’s good babe,” Jon panted. “I’m about to taste you in mine!”

 One hand came up to hold her neck extended. Still fucking her, he lifted until his chest leaned against her back. Holding her immobile, he opened his mouth wide. His fangs flashed, bit deep.

 She felt him drawing against the vein, felt the blood flowing out of her on an erotic pulse that throbbed way down in her pussy. Lightning flashed, sensual thunder boomed. Torrential rain flooded the cavern of her sex. Electricity sparked along her nerve endings, setting fires in her blood. Fireworks flared in the night sky of her inner soul, splashing sparkles and light throughout her spasming body.

 Her tongue dueled with Jason’s. Below, intimate muscles clenched, clamped down on the male organ splitting her in two. Needing to feel the hot wash of his seed bathing her womb, Chelle began a rhythmic constricting action to milk every drop of come from her Vampire lover.

 With a roar of triumph, Jon surrendered, gave her his seed. And he hadn’t lied. Jon hadn’t exaggerated the pleasure, the ecstasy, and the sheer, unmitigated joy that screamed through her. Voices whispered in her head, telling her how loved she was, how needed, how adored…

 We love you, our mate, and our woman. You complete us. You make us whole…

  

  

  

 Chapter Thirteen

  

 “Michelle Rios, wake up. You have a choice to make.”

 Something brought Michelle awake with a start. Heart pounding with fear, she turned in a full circle, eyes scanning every inch of ground for something, anything that looked familiar.

 She’d fallen asleep wrapped in the arms of her two loves, yet she stood now in a vast field of summer flowers, a soft breeze blowing through her shoulder length hair.

 “Where am I? Where are my…” She didn’t know what to call them.

 “Your husbands? They are sleeping. For that matter, so are you.”

 She could buy the truth of that statement. Nowhere on earth had she seen a sky the color of ripe mango, or clouds pastel green. Nor had she ever seen -- and never wanted to again -- gamboling beasts that resembled a sick child’s nightmare image of the monster-under-the-bed.

 “You still haven’t told me who you are and what you want with me.”

 “I am Jonathan Jason Corelli’s mother, my dear, and what I want with you is simple. I want you to make my boys whole again.”

 A mist, gray and thick, swirled in the middle of the field. The voice seemed to come from there. Michelle peered into the dense cloud, trying to pierce its secrets.

 “Why are you hiding? Come out where I can see you.”

 “Do you see with your eyes or with your heart?”

 “Do you enjoy speaking in riddles? Because I’m fast growing tired of it. If you don’t show yourself and stop dog-dicking me around, I’m going to pinch myself and wake up.”

 A musical tinkling laugh rose on the warm summer air. “What a marvelous sense of humor! No wonder my boy loves you!”

 “How can you claim to be the twins’ mother and keep referring to only one of them?”

 “Because I have only one son.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “So do cows, but that’s neither here nor there. Allow me to tell you a story. To explain, I guess we’ll need to start at the beginning…

 “Jonathan Jason Corelli was a single egg embryo. Healers in the Realms now conjecture he became lonely while in the womb and created a playmate. He was born Siamese, attached by one spinal cord to his make-believe friend. That there were two bodies meant nothing. He was still only one person, born with one soul. I knew this, and tried to make my husband understand, but he was too Human, too Neanderthal to grasp the concept. I named our boy Jonathan Jason, but his father mistook my meaning and gave one of the names to each of the bodies.

 “My son stayed whole until his tenth birthday. At that time, thanks to advances in your Human technology, the doctors felt he stood the greatest chance of surviving the separation operation. I was against it, of course. I knew the boy would eventually outgrow the need for his imaginary friend. As soon as his magic caught up with his maturity, he would reabsorb the golem and everything would return to normal. My husband, who never believed I was not as Human as he, did not agree with me. Thanks to the backwardness of this world -- no wonder Earth is not a member of the Realms -- his word held sway with the doctors. I couldn’t bear to watch the agony and suffering Jonathan Jason was about to undergo, and so I left.”

 “What a bitch! A mother with a heart would have stayed through that time, if for no other. That’s when they needed you the most.” Chelle minced no words in her anger.

 “Hear me out before you judge, Human.”

 “Fine, but why do you keep using the word Human as if you aren’t one, yourself?”

 “I am not Human. Neither, for that matter, is Jonathan Jason… well, not much. May I continue?”

 Chelle shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’m not doing anything but sleeping, after all.”

 “By Human standards, the operation was successful. Jonathan Jason had been split into two separate bodies. Both bodies suffered from the rending, and they endured untold pain and agony. He will probably never tell you he underwent the operation without anesthesia. The primitive doctors needed to know which nerves worked which sections of the body, where the pain receptors were. My son felt every burning slice of the surgeons’ scalpels. Even with the technology available and the international team of doctors and specialists involved, he barely survived the operation. It was a historic event. I believe the doctors involved are still dining out on the notoriety.

 “You can’t imagine what he went through, how he suffered. You should have seen him… split into two ten-year-old bodies reduced to taking sustenance through an NG tube. He couldn’t even eat a French fry or potato chip. He spent that year poring over magazines -- the closest he could come to actually living -- and fell in love with all the food pictures in the Good Housekeeping magazines. I think he decided to be a chef while he argued with his other self over what he would do to make the pictures look even better.

 “He gradually recovered and healed, enough to win free from the doctors’ care. But the uncertainty of his life took a toll. As the years went by, he became more and more schizophrenic, believing he was actually two different people.”

 “I thought you’d left,” Chelle interrupted. “How could you know what was going on in their lives while you were gone?”

 “There were… certain circumstances I had to rectify before I could return and claim my son. When I did, it was too late… Now, where was I before being rudely interrupted?”

 “Let’s see…” Chelle propped her finger at her chin. “Making lame-ass excuses for abandoning your sons?”

 The being’s voice chilled. “No. I remember. Eventually, Jonathan Jason came to realize there was something very different about him and learned his heritage was not Human. He no longer wanted to live with an exaggerated sense of his own mortality. He longed for some reassurance of permanence, of longevity. To that end, he sought out a sorcerer, who immediately recognized Jonathan Jason as my son. He attempted to help them by teaching them an object lesson. The sorcerer turned one body into a Vampire and the other into a Werewolf. The exercise failed horribly.

 “Even though he had not gained his powers, my son -- through a great feat of determination the realms are still gossiping over -- managed to find the sorcerer a second time. This time, he demanded the curse be lifted. The sorcerer did better than that, but he didn’t tell Jonathan Jason. He left him a riddle both bodies had to solve to overcome their problem, but the idiot boy has yet to attempt it.”

 “What’s the riddle?”

 “The couplets go something like this: ‘The darkness within shall hold no sway; you’ll walk, henceforth, in the light of day’.”

 Chelle nodded. “That must deal with Jonathan. He’s the Vampire.”

 “The second one says: ‘You need no longer heed Moon’s call; for during her reign you’ll walk man-tall’.”

 “And that one obviously is meant for Jason,” Chelle concluded.

 “The sorcerer’s spell was broken, but he… they… interfered with the power.”

 “What are you talking about? You’ve done nothing but confuse me.” Michelle clenched her fists. “You say you want me to help Jonathan and Jason but you’re not telling me anything worth hearing.”

 “You can help them reverse their magic and make them one again. With you as the focus, my son can undo what the physicians did so long ago, but better… Jonathan Jason can be one man in one body -- complete and whole.”

 “At what price?”

 “I don’t understand.”

 “At what cost to them? Who remains? Who gets wiped away? Who is the persona that is expendable?”

 “They are one!”

 “Listen to you! Even you are calling your son ‘they’.” Michelle looked through the mist and saw the woman.

 She floated off the ground, encased in a clear bubble, her beauty so pure and shining Chelle felt blinded by her light. Her eyes were pure gold, her hair the darkest night black. She looked a lot like her sons.

 “I want to wake up now. Let me wake up!” Chelle demanded, stomping her foot.

 “You must make a decision. Choose wisely!”

 “Fuck you and the bubble you rode in on, witch!”

 “I love him.”

 “No you don’t! You love your perfect ideal! I suppose, if they had turned out gay, you’d be begging me to make them straight!” Chelle yelled into the heart of the bubble, so angry she hadn’t noticed the changes in the dream scene. She’d somehow come right up against the Faerie’s shield -- or bubble or transport or whatever the hell it was -- and splayed her hand across the skin. It felt thin and membranous and vibrated under her touch, seeming almost alive.

 “You needn’t think you’re ever getting an invitation to come visit your grandchildren, either!” she added when the woman -- really, she was too pretty to be called a woman, but Chelle couldn’t think of anything else. Alien? -- sat quiet and stoic, enduring her harangue without further attempts to justify her long ago actions.

 “Michelle, I shall send you back in a moment…”

 “Send me back right now! I want to wake up!”

 “Tell my son… tell the boys I love them.”

 Chelle put her hands over her ears and started making noise. “La-la-la-la-la… I can’t heeeear yoooou! Wakey-wakey time!”

 After several tries to talk over Chelle’s noise, the Queen of the Underworld rose to her feet, her golden robes falling in a glittering cascade of loveliness about her dainty person. “I cannot believe you are the fulcrum around which my son’s future will be built” she spat. “You are the most stubborn, hardheaded Human it has been my misfortune to deal with! Wake up!”

  

 “Wake up, Chelle, honey. You’re having a nightmare.”

 “I told you we shouldn’t have pushed her so soon. The wolf thing and the biting was too much too soon.”

 Chelle smiled. That’s my Jason, always wary, always voting to take things slow and test each step. Damn! He’s just like me !

 “Shut the hell up, Jas, she’s not that weak-minded.”

 And that voice belongs to my Jon. The take-charge, impulsive knight in shining armor. Chelle opened her eyes. “Hi guys.”

 A second later, memory of the dream hit her. “Oh my God! Jonathan, Jason, you both have a choice to make!”

 “Honey, what’s wrong?” Both men gathered her close.

 Chelle snuggled into both, wrapping her arms around each. This was what she loved about them, the sense of being surrounded with love and ready protection -- even when she didn’t need it. “You got it wrong!”

 “Huh?”

 “The sorcerer… guys, he freed you of what you call a curse. Your own magic twisted the curse into what you perceived it to be.” She was so eager to get the words out she could hardly talk straight. “Listen: The darkness within shall hold no sway; you’ll walk, henceforth, in the light of day . Jonathan, don’t you understand? You never died, so you can’t be a classic Vampire. The only darkness inside you is the lack of knowledge. The couplet didn’t say you would be a day-walker, it said -- basically -- that you were free!”

 She twisted around to Jason. “And babe, your couplet said: You need no longer heed Moon’s call; for during her reign you’ll walk man-tall .” Chelle grabbed onto Jason and shook him. “Do you remember what I asked you if you had ever tried changing form while the moon was up?”

 Jason nodded, his brows drawn together in puzzlement. “Yes, but…”

 “No buts!” Chelle cried, shushing him so she could finish. “You need no longer heed Moon’s call! Day or night, Jas, the moon controls a Werewolf. I bet you’ve never tried to shift to man form during the day.”

 Jonathan sat up. He stared at Jason with hope dawning in his beautiful golden eyes. “You mean I can eat regular foods?”

 “I don’t see why not.”

 “But,” he looked at her neck; at the marks his fangs had left on her, “what about having to bite you?”

 She laughed, fingered the bite marks with affection. “Yeah, makes my tummy quiver thinking about it. You’ll have to do that kinky thing again, sometime, lover.” Then she sobered. “You gave yourself fangs. You can bite if you want to. Frankly, I think you as a Vampire are sexy as hell.”

 “If there is no curse, then what is the decision we have to make?”

 Chelle patted the bed. “Both of you come sit beside me.” She waited as Jason sat up and Jonathan returned to the bed from where he’d been pacing the floor. “I met your mom. Well, I imagine I didn’t really meet her. She contacted me.”

 “What?”

 “How?”

 Chelle grimaced. “She was the nightmare I was having.” She took a deep breath. “I have to tell you, I don’t like her. She left you when you were only a little boy, facing the most horrendous challenge of your life. You look a little like her, but you two are handsomer.”

 “Michelle, if you don’t get to the point, I’m going to turn you over my lap.”

 “Jason, have I told you lately I love your threats -- and that’s all they better be?” She threw her hands up in the air when he scowled and made a joking move for her. “Okay, okay… I’ll tell you.” She looked at her two loves.

 “You’re a real boy, Pinocchio. That is, the sorcerer told you the two of you shared one soul. But you know what I think? I think God gave you another one when they split your bodies. Or He split the one soul in half and gave you both part. Unlike Humpty-Dumpty, you can go back together again. If you want to.”

 Chelle patted their knees. “I know I’ve thrown a bomb at you, but this is something you need to work out on your own.” She stood up and walked toward the bathroom. “I’m going to use the bathroom and then take a shower. I promise not to listen in while you two figure out what you want to do.”

  

 She found them still seated on the bed, staring at each other when she returned from her shower. “Oh guys, please don’t tell me you haven’t moved since I left.”

 They turned identical troubled eyes on her. Jason cleared his throat. “We’ve reached our decision, but we have to know… what do you want, Chelle? Do you want one husband who can be everything to you, or --” he swallowed, looking like a frightened little boy -- “Jonathan and me, just as we are?”

  

  

  

 Epilogue

  

 “You look marvelous, my darling Mrs. Corelli. The air of Chimera agrees with you.”

 Standing outside the new restaurant, Chelle looked up at her handsome husband, knowing her eyes and face glowed with the love she felt for him. “Thank you, Jason Jonathan Corelli. It’s not Chimera’s air, though, that has me glowing. It’s solely your love. You always have a compliment for me, even when I know I’m not looking my best.”

 He placed a careful hand on her tight round tummy. “That’s not true, sweetheart, because you always look beautiful in my eyes. More so now, while you carry our child.”

 “Oh babe, you’re gonna make me cry…”

 “Ah, please don’t do that, heart of my heart. You know how it rips me apart to see you in tears.”

 “Even if they’re happy ones?”

 “Are they?”

 “With you, they’re never anything else. I haven’t had a sad moment since our wedding day. Speaking of which,” she slanted a teasing glance up at her tall golden-eyed, black-haired husband, “remind me to let you read Bobbie’s letter. You have no idea how much you impressed her when we visited. Trust me. It’s not easy to sway Bobbie and she literally gushed all over the pages about your killer bod and sweet nature. She wants to know if there are any more of you lying around!”

 They laughed together at the irony. “You cornered the market, sweetheart.” He lingered over the soft kiss he gave her, hand resting on her distended belly.

 Her tummy took that time to sound off with a hungry rumble. A tiny foot thumped against his father’s hand. “Seems like we have an impatient fellow demanding nourishment.” Jason kept his hand on her pregnant bulge. She could feel the waves of love wafting from him to her and their little one.

 “Impatient is the word! Did you feel that kick?” Chelle thumped her belly lightly. “Junior, stop beating up on your mommy!” She covered her husband’s hand with hers, pressed it down the curve of her belly, letting her gaze roam suggestively over his trim form. “You’re about to be fed and I’m about to indulge in a heated fantasy.” Her voice turned sultry. “I miss my Werewolf.”

 “Come on then, little Red.” Jason hurriedly ushered her toward the restaurant. “If we hurry, we can get both Junior’s and your hungers fed before the restaurant’s premiere opening this evening.”

 Chelle linked her arm with his and let him pull her down the street. “Good idea. I know I’ve told you before, but I’m so glad you decided to open this fourth eatery on the island. I think you’ll have loads of business. Intimate Entrees is sure to catch on. Having private themed rooms where a couple can be totally en dishabille while having a sensual meal is a great idea.”

 Jason smirked. “Yeah, I thought so, too. Knowing how much the idea intrigued you, I was sure you wouldn’t mind helping me out by participating in the trial run before going public. We need to make sure we’ve worked out any kinks, made sure every detail is covered.”

 Chelle grinned, ignoring the usual island staff and the visitors milling about, her smile and eyes all for her husband. “I love a man devoted to details.”

 “How do you feel about a man whose details are devoted to you ?” Jon grabbed her from behind and swung her into his embrace.

 “Jonathan Jason Corelli, what have I told you about sneaking up on me?” Chelle lightly boxed her husband on the ear. Then she spoiled the reprimand by waggling her eyebrows up and down and saying, “In answer to your question… I adore men with devoted details.”

 Jon rewarded her with a hard, impassioned kiss. He held her aloft, his hands gentle on her as he devoured her mouth.

 Chelle’s feet dangled above the floor. Her toes curled from the passion in her husband’s kiss, zinging through her like a pinball zigzagging inside, hitting and lighting up all the point towers. She mewled helplessly when fire ignited in her, burning at the connected points of nipples and clit.

 She shook apart in Jon’s arms for what seemed like eons. When he released her, she staggered like a drunken lush, inebriated with passion. Jason caught her, tucked her against his side and shared a high-five with his brother.

 Chelle gasped for air, shocked at the unexpectedness of the orgasm that had blasted through her. The power of Jonathan’s kiss, alone, had brought her -- right out on the public street!

 Struggling out of Jason’s grasp, she fought to gather the tattered remains of her dignity. She eyed the brothers with a jaundiced glare then turned to peruse the landscaping surrounding the restaurant. Chelle used her supposed absorption as an excuse not to look at either husband for the moment, knowing they both wore self-satisfied smirks she’d be tempted to slap off their faces.

 So she concentrated on the exterior of the restaurant. The grounds sported formal flowerbeds filled with exotic, tropical plants and flowers. Walkways meandered throughout, offering cul-de-sacs furnished with quaint loveseats for those diners who had the misfortune to wait for seating.

 The building, itself, was worth a long involved look. This was no grass hut, but an imposing, impressive building that wouldn’t have been out of place in the heart of New York or London or any other place that catered to the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

 Through the wide windows, she could see the interior’s plush décor. Excited over her first view of her husbands’ newest work of art, Chelle spun about and ran to embrace them. “Congratulations! This place is truly lovely. You guys have done a marvelous job on it. When did you get finished?”

 Jon leaned over and gave her a lingering thank-you kiss. “Just about five minutes ago, babe.” He cocked a brow at his brother. “Enjoying your day off, bro?”

 “Immensely,” Jason answered, adjusting his stance to ease the erection tenting his slacks. “I think I enjoyed watching that incendiary kiss more.”

 Jon opened his mouth to say something, glanced over at Chelle and paused. She was glad to see he’d learned some discretion where she was concerned. He cleared his throat, a wash of dull red coloring his cheeks. “I was happy to see her.”

 That cracked Jason up. “Yeah, I could tell.” After a good long laugh, he finally calmed enough to share some news. “Our wife has been shopping. At the same boutique where she shopped the evening we became engaged. Wait till you see what’s on the menu for dessert, tonight. And it’s not food.”

 Jon’s eyes lit up with anticipation and curiosity. “Hmm, I can’t wait.” He fell into place beside Chelle. “Well, my dears? Shall we give our newest project an un dress rehearsal?”

 Jason smiled. “That’s what we’re here for.”

 Bracketed by both husbands, Chelle stepped through the restaurant doors. The restaurant’s maitre d’ greeted them with a stiff bow and wide smile. “Chefs and Madam Corelli, what a pleasure -- an honor it is, to have you as our first official dining guests.” The man bowed again from the waist, his old world, formal tux without wrinkle or spot.

 “Antoine. Both you and the place look fantastic.”

 “Thank you, Mr. Jason, sir. All the staff members think so, too. They’ll be gratified to know you approve of the work they’ve done.” The man looked pleased as punch. “What is your pleasure for this afternoon?”

 “Dinner for three, my good man,” Jonathan replied, a wide smile on his face. He made no attempt at hiding his fangs.

 “Very good, sir. Which themed room would you like to choose?”

 “We’ll try the Woodland room with the alfresco picnic, today.” Jason reached up and loosened his tie. “Our wife has a hankering for a Werewolf fantasy…”

  

  

  

 Camille Anthony

  

 A California native, Camille Anthony now lives in the beautifully wild Low Country of South Carolina. A fertile imagination and a love of Romance fuels her writing, which she has been doing since grade school. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race, or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and hold that one special someone.

 Camille likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot!

 She loves to hear from her readers. You can Email her at CamilleAnthony@CamilleAnthony.com. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated.