JOHN

"God sakes, Riley. I've been fuckin' waiting forever for you."

That's how it started. Well not exactly. Things were changing, you know. I could feel it. I'm the kinda guy who likes having a number one, ay? I guess it's a hold-over from that other world. I like feeling like I'm the most important person in someone's life. And I had been.

Reagan is wonderful. I mean, shit. She's beautiful and warm. The best. And I did my best to be what she needed. But then there's that damn pull. How the fuck can anyone explain it? It's as fucking baffling as holding on to the other world values that have no place in this world. Hell, I've been here a while, too. I should know better. But I just never felt it quite like that, you know. Until all this happened.

They always say that a woman can tell when her man is cheating on her. Well trust me; a man can tell too, we just don't like to face it. We look for evidence, proof that we don't really want to see. Now, that's other world shit, I know. Complicate that with the pull and . . . fuck.

Don't get me wrong. I feel a pull. Pretty strong too, for all the Sisters. And I love them, each and every one. In fact, what I love most is how they make me feel. I know, I'm a fucking selfish prick. But these women are remarkable! Not just in the sack, either.

Take Darcy. God sakes! It's impossible not to love that woman. Darce gives me a sense of self, you know. Makes me feel like a man. She is romance and sweetness personified, and I can't help myself. What a doll. Bud must be in fucking heaven.

Then there's our priestess. Jesus, talk about feeling like a man. Shit, when Izzy looks at me, I wanna be a fucking cave man. Beat some animal senseless and drag it back to the fire for her. Isobel gives me purpose. And if you're reading sweetie, I'm missing you.

Now, lovely Nat. She's my sweetheart. A real talker. Open and willing to take in everything. She analyses, dissects, internalizes, then processes everything, and I love that about her. One intelligent, woman. And one sweet lover, ay.

Beautiful Dee. Still waiting for an invitation. So Dee? What do you think, honey?

And now, Riley. The pull. And my fucking incredible new life.

The pull.

I admit, when I felt Reagan slipping away, it was something so deep inside I couldn't even begin to admit it. No evidence. No proof. Well, except for that tiny something that nags at your balls. Felt it once before. With my first wife, Meredith and even when Donna cheated. But with Reagan I knew it meant a lot more. It was the pull, and whoever was pulling her away was fucking winning. First I was blistering mad. Then just depressed. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. I figured, I was fucked. Single again. Unwanted. Damn! I sound like a pussy. But it was hard.

Reagan's happiness was all that mattered, though. And of course, that's about the same time I started to feel it. I kept dreaming about this tiny pair of hands holding my beating heart. Strange, ay? Then I felt the pull, like I always do with the Sisters, only really strong. And I remember thinking that someone had their hand inside my chest and was drawing my heart right toward them. Christ. It was terrifying and exciting at once. Freaked the hell out of me. So I called Isobel.

"What's happening, Iz?"

"What do you mean?" Her sweet voice responded.

"Who the fuck's coming in? I can feel it. Driving me crazy."

Silence.

"You gonna tell me or what? Is everyone feeling this shit?"

Izzy sighed. "Tell me what you're feeling, John."

I almost choked on the words. Feeling like I was betraying Reagan. Worrying that I was losing my mind. "The pull. Bad."

"You may be, honey. Check the new story on the site. And be patient, John. Everything always works out the way it's supposed to."

So I did. There was a story there. About me. It was so real; I swear it felt like I'd actually lived it. Like the writer was inside my head. And from that moment, the name Riley pounded in my chest.

I knew the moment Riley crossed the portal. It was late. I was lying awake. Couldn't sleep. I'd just had a phone conversation with Max. The conversation. No doubt about it. I'd lost Reagan to Maximus. I felt like fucking shit.

Then I felt something else. I sat straight up and grasped my chest.

God sakes. It was intense. Not pain, I wasn't having a coronary or anything like that. It just suddenly felt like my chest had split open. Opened. Wide. And I liked the feeling. The only thing in my head was her name. Riley.

I booted up my laptop and watched the frenzy. Man, they were all feeling her. I wanted to jump right in. Be the first to welcome her. But it was like a fight, last two minutes of the third period. The gloves were off. I watched my Brothers vie for her attention, tease, flirt and beg for visits.

I scratched out a draft of the welcome I wanted to send her. Checking the grammar, spelling, punctuation. My fucking heart was bursting, but I figured that if it was supposed to happen, it would. When I reached for the keyboard I couldn't believe it. Seventeen Brother's before me! Fuck.

Tossing the paper aside, I just let the words fall out of my wide open chest.

"God sakes, Riley. I've been fuckin' waiting forever for you."

And her response.

"And I too have been waiting forever for you."

Damn!

I'd like to say that things got easier from there, but of course they didn't. The Family plan was for Isobel and Darcy to bring Riley to the Temple for a big personal introduction. I booked my flight. Arranged a doggie sitter for the pups. Packed. Was on my way out the door when my cell rang. It was Lachlan. Told me Riley was considering going back to her old world.

Fuck. I actually slid down the wall and thumped my ass on the floor, two canine snouts buried in my crotch. "Why?"

"Can't say, mate. Been trying to talk her out of it. Think you better call her."

"Me?" I swallowed. Fuck, did everyone know my business?

"Bloody hell. Who else?"

He gave me the number, and I dialed. I know she knew it was me and I recognized her voice, like I'd known her my whole life. We talked a bit. She was crying. Man, that broke my heart. I know she was scared, but I made her promise to give this world a chance. I didn't beg her to give me a chance, not out loud, at least.

Enough of this shit. I don't really want to talk about how long I waited for my first chance to touch her or how she found her way to me. It all worked out, ay? And I don't think I've ever been so fucking happy. I am one lucky puck. Everyday is an adventure. Ha, and I do mean every single day! She opens me up, and we play in a world all our own. Riley and I are building something amazing. Building it on the discoveries we make about each other.

***

6:15 this morning. I rolled over. She was gone. Damn, the woman never sleeps. If I want her first thing . . . alright, alright, alright, when I want her first thing, I have to go out and find her. Not complaining, mind you. It's made for some interesting moments. But this morning she was across the hall in her office. I could hear the keyboard tapping. I reminded myself not to get pissed. Even though it was Saturday and my day. Like I said, I am one fucking selfish prick. I hate sharing Riley with her clients. Is it too much to ask for the weekends?

We're sort of on our honeymoon, you know. Except for Darcy, (hell, she and Riley were almost inseparable, it was kind of nice, that they connected like that), the other Sisters and Brothers have left us alone for now. But I can feel it coming to an end. It's how it works. And I want every moment of this time that I can get. I glanced into her office. She must have been at it for a while. Pretty deep into whatever she was working on. Didn't even realize I was standing there. Her tiny bare feet braced against the wheels of her computer chair, her hair all mussed. She was wearing my shirt.

God sakes! Does a woman have any idea how fucking crazy that makes a man? To see my wrinkled shirt draped over Riley's naked body calls a straight up, rock hard-on. No warning, ay? I shook my head and went downstairs to make coffee.

Watching it drip, smelling the aroma, I remembered last night. I'd had this idea in my head for days. Just rolling around, tempting. I wasn't sure if she'd go for it. So I went careful.

We have a huge, Victorian bed. Four tall posts. It's high off the floor. I know. Fell off the fucker more than once. It's a drop. We were just starting; wrapped up in each others arms in the center of all that real estate when I decided it was time to try. I lifted her and sat her in one corner of the bed. Back against the headrest at the post. Then I took my position at the opposite post. Exactly like I wanted it. I looked across at her and marveled.

What the hell is it about our women? These intriguing woman so attracted to Crowe's heart that it catapults them into our arms? Were they really all that beautiful and amazing? Or was it their love that makes them glow like beacons? Riley was exactly what I expected, and totally a surprise. The first time I took her into my arms at the airport I was so moved I thought I fucking cry. She's not tall, in fact she's so tiny it makes me feel like a grizzly. Like I can protect her from anything. So beautiful and soft. Her dark hair is wild and short, her eyes are almost black and deeper than night. And I swear, if I'd met her in the other world, I would have never come here. But as it is, this is how it's supposed to be. And it's better than good, ay?

Watching her watch me, curiosity on that sweet pixie face of hers. I just smiled. Then I spit on my palm and took my cock in hand. Her mouth dropped. I leaned back and imagined my hand was hers. She leaned forward, and I pointed.

"No baby. You stay there."

I saw her swallow, her eyes glued on my hand.

"You too, Riles," I said.

She thought about that for a minute. It's the moment that scares the shit out of me. I always wonder if I'd crossed the line. After all she'd permitted me, I should be grateful as hell. But me? I fucking always want more. I held my breath. She took a deep breath and tentatively moved her hands to her own crotch. I spit on my palm again. And again. Riley gave a nervous laugh then reached into the drawer next to her and tossed a tube of K.Y. at me.

I was so fucking stoked; I squeezed half the tube into my hand. Way too much. I smoothed the excess along my thigh and watched her face. I know exactly what she was thinking. Just what I was thinking. That it felt like her wet pussy running the length of my leg. Damn, it was going well.

Her finger was finding its way home and my cock was starting to feel like it was going to split. My beautiful Riley was breathing heavier, her head leaned back. But her half open eyes were watching me. Watch her.

My hand tightened and I imagined it was both of hers. Then a thought stuck me. A sensation. Like I was suddenly knowing the feel of me in her hands. The texture of my cock, the veins and ripples there. The heat of its straining head. I slid down to my balls. Feeling what she feels. All the time, my eyes glued on hers.

She was getting it, feeling it too. I watched her fingers move the way mine do on her. Playing, circling, plucking. When she slid inside I thought I fucking blow. Shit, what had I started here? I wondered if I could play by my own rules. All I wanted to do was leap on to her and take control. She must have figured that, because this time she pointed.

"You stay there, John." Her voice was hot and raspy. My heart started pounding and my hand tightened. I yanked and pulled, smooth, hard. I was so close, but that wasn't the plan, ay? I needed to take it easier, wait for my love. Didn't want to hit the ceiling alone, did I?

Her face was flushed, one hand held her gorgeous pussy open, while the other worked the button. Jesus, she was beautiful, and all for me! Her knees slowly lowered then she stiffened everywhere. I fucking lost control and squeezed hard on myself. Almost ripped my fucking dick right off. Just as she cried out my name, I felt my balls lock up like an eighteen-wheeler, jackknifed at sixty miles an hour. I shot halfway across the bed. A long spurt of the hottest come I can ever remember. She was still shaking as I crawled across to her. I took her into my arms and well, the rest is none of your fucking business. Needless to say, I thought she'd sleep later this morning.

I shrugged, poured two mugs of coffee and headed up the stairs. My hard-on stretched the front of my sweats, making it tough to climb the stairs. But this is a sensation I'm getting used to, ay?

I kissed the top of her head. Took in the sweet scent. Then set her mug next to the mouse. She turned and kissed me.

"Ummm. Coffee. Thanks, baby."

I dragged the tall stool she keeps next to her tilted drawing board, close. Propped on it and leaned down for another sweet kiss. She sipped coffee and returned her attention to the screen. I looked around. Riley's office. Everything you want to know about the woman is right there.

Her sewing table and machine. Riley makes beautiful quilts, when she's in quilt mode, that is. Her drawing board, covered with restaurant floor plans, logo ideas, books. Book shelves loaded with everything from fiction to philosophy. The far corner, stacked with easel, stretchers, a tall roll of raw canvas. A tool box full of paint and brushes. And of course, her big corner desk. Two computers. Her writing computer and her Lair laptop. Both up and running. All the time.

Then there's the walls. Covered ceiling to floor. Diplomas, awards, culinary medals. I thought about her bad marriage. This is how she compensated for the emptiness. My heart aches when I think about it. Riley, so lonely, so unhappy. Starving for satisfaction. But then again, she's stronger than she knows. A real fucking survivor.

Closer to her desk the walls take on a more pleasant feel. Posters of Native American Pow Wows, framed artwork, post cards. A painting she'd done years ago of an Inuet woman, spiritual symbols all around it. This fascinated the hell out of me. Having spent so many years in Alaska, I have a sense of the Native American culture. But Riley's knowledge goes much deeper than mine. Her main focus is the Plains Indians. The Inuet people I've known have never encountered the difficulties of the reservation system. They have less politics, less hardships than their brothers and sisters down here. I have lots to learn from Riley there. But the spirituality of these people, I get that. I really do. Can't care about a people and not get it. It's so much a part of everything for them.

To the right of her desk is my favorite. Pictures of Crowe, laughing, working, smiling in an interview. Posters of Jack and Maximus. John Nash. And me. More of me than even Crowe. And that makes me feel great. God sakes, she has loved me forever.

I glanced at the computer screen, crammed with figures and tight writing. "Hey, it's Saturday baby. Thought you weren't going to work on Saturday, ay?"

She turned twinkling eyes at me. Made my heart skip a beat. "I'm not working, John. I'm playing."

"Heh?" I looked closer at the screen.

"It's a dream I have." She sipped coffee. "It will never happen, but a girl can dream can't she?"

"What is it?" I was catching numbers. Big ones.

"It's a business plan for a place I'd love to own. A Bed and Breakfast."

I blinked and she continued, getting more and more excited.

"John, it's in Vermont. The most beautiful old Victorian building you've ever seen. Tucked back in the woods, right at the foot of Mount Mansfield."

My eyebrows shot up. I had no idea she was so serious about this.

"I know, I know. It's crazy. Three million . . ."

"Dollars?" I almost choked on my coffee.

"Yes." She said softly, defeated. "Need $250,000 before the bank will even talk about financing the rest."

"Three million, Riley?"

"Well, that's for the property purchase, renovations, new construction and three months working capitol."

She'd really thought this through! The computer screen indicated that the business plan was thirty-nine pages long.

She turned to me, her eyes wet, begging. "But if this can happen John, I know we can make it work."

She said we! We. And with that small word, Riley's dream was mine too.

Now my head was swimming. Spinning like a roulette wheel and landing right on the answer. But I couldn't say anything about that just yet. I needed to do a little research of my own, and get a good look at this business plan. "Yes, we can."

She smiled then turned back to the computer, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Hey, baby. Let's go out for some breakfast. I'm starved." I had a plan.

She nodded then pressed the 'print' button, turned on the iron, went to the bathroom, switched on the radio and the curling iron, started the shower, then took our cups down to the kitchen to refill. That's my Riles. Master of multitasking.

As she showered I watched the pages slide out of the printer. I collated them, stacked them neatly and hid them. Yeah, I'm a prick. I know, but like I said. I had a plan. I pushed the 'print' button again, then ironed her skirt and blouse.

As I was wrapping the cord around the iron, she came up behind and slid her arms around me. I turned. "You are too sweet to me, John."

I shrugged.

"Have I said good morning to you yet?"

"Not yet." Fuck, I'm always ready. Especially when she had that look in her eyes, and that pink bra and panties on. Her skin was still rosy from the hot water.

She knelt and pulled my sweats down to my ankles. That wicked grin. Always drives me nuts. Riley never rushes. She is a master at paying attention to details. To me. Her hands were like feathers, holding my balls carefully, rolling them like marbles. God sakes, those tiny hands are masterful. Soft and accurate. Perfect. Then she worked my cock. But she knew what I wanted and I leaned back against that ironing board, pressing it against the wall with my weight.

Jesus, the sight of that lovely mouth wrapped around me, sucking, pulling every inch of me deep. Drawing passion, building it. I buried my huge hands into her hair. Her whole head could fit on one of my palms. And I wondered about me. My body.

I once asked her. What was it like to make love to so many of the same men? She'd already been with four of us.

She just laughed. "None of you are anything alike, John." She said, simply.

"Even?" I pointed to my cock.

"Especially there. You are all different in so many ways. I mean there are similarities, but not where it counts."

"Like what?" I pressed on, not sure why the hell I wanted to know.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I imagine your faces, a little. I imagine that Cort probably looks like your little brother."

"So that means Zack and Jeff Mitchell too, ay?"

She just laughed. "No. John, it's not about your hair, it about your hearts."

I had to accept. Well, I admit, I wanted to accept. It made me feel different from the others. Special. Like I said. A selfish prick.

Well, this selfish prick was deep in Riley's mouth and loving every minute of it. Then she started sucking, tight, quick pulls that threatened to drop me to my knees. I lost myself in the sensations of my love. My Number One. The sensation of being the most important person in her life. The full reality that I was her Number One and would be till the day I died. That there was nothing I would deny her.

Everything tightened from my chest to my toes, and I filled her mouth, shooting down her throat. Dropping to the floor. Melting down into her arms. And the tiny word "we" fluttered to the front of my crazy mind. We.

***

After we got home from breakfast, Darcy called. I knew that conversation would be long. All giggles and whispers. I gravitated to the business plan I'd hidden. Tucked it into my jacket then mumbled something about running out for a case of beer. Kissed Riley and left.

In the Jeep, I dialed my cell and started the ball in motion. See Riley didn't know it, but I knew the money was available. That Izzy and the Temple would be more than happy to bank roll the Bed and Breakfast.

But first I needed to make sure it was plausible. I contacted every brother I could think of who could help. There was going to be a flurry of crazy activity, and I wanted it to move fast. Jeff Mitchell was heading out to Vermont first thing in the morning with Egan and Colin to take a look at the building's condition. Lachlan made himself available to fly anyone anywhere they needed to be. Lachlan. Damn. That man would do anything for my Riles. It warmed my heart, and made it shake at once.

Terry and Dino got hold of an attorney to look over the plan. Nash offered to work on the design for the addition she wanted. I laughed, imagining something futuristic, a glass room or something. And others started calling me. Before I got home with the beer, Max, Cort, Jack and Hando had all offered assistance anywhere I felt needed. I told them all I needed right now was quiet. "Mum's the word, Brother. Let's make this a surprise, okay?" They all promised.

Now if I could just keep the Sisters quiet. Not an easy task, they're women, ay?

Within a week, it was solid. I received the blueprints from Nash and had to admit they were great. I laughed. It was a glass room. But it was a perfect replica of a turn-of-the-century green house. The proportions were perfect. It would be the formal dining room, built off the side of the right tower. Was there no end to Nash's genius?

Even the Sisters had kept the secret. Riley's dream would come true and WE would make it work. Together.

Now, all I need to do is find just the right way to tell her.