Camille Douglas stepped into the spacious office and slammed the door behind her with a piercing thud. At the sound of a faint noise, she whipped her head to the side to see a single picture, encased in what appeared to be an expensive gold frame, topple from the mantle and fall with a soft thump to the floor. A tiny grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she fought it back, even as a childish sense of triumph stole over her.

With lazy steps, she sauntered towards the centre of the room, her high heels digging into the soft plush carpet, until she came to a stop in front of a large cherry oak desk. With a slight tilt of her chin, she schooled her features into a neutral expression and bravely met the gazes of the four men that stood before her, as hostility blazed in the matching depths of their eyes.

With a quick flick of the wrist, Camille tossed her unruly curls over her shoulder and straightened her back even as droplets of sweat coated her palms. She was scared, but she had no intention of showing it. The Downing brothers had brought her there to draw blood, but she would be damned if she gave them the satisfaction of knowing that she was nervous as hell.

“I’m here as you summoned,” she drawled in her soft, southern accent, her voice dripping with contempt.

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He was the oldest and out of all of them, he was the most arrogant. She’d attended school with him so she knew him the best, and out of all of them she hated him the most.

“You didn’t have to come, although I am sure you knew it was in your best interests to do so,” he said tightly.

She stiffened at his words, her hands balling into tight fists.

“My best interests?” Despite a valiant effort, she couldn’t stop the look of scorn that she knew, without a doubt, crossed her face.

“No, Mr. Downing—” she paused to glance at each of them. “Mr. Downings—” she corrected. “This meeting is in no way shape or form in my best interests, but what choice did I really have? You offered me a way to save my family ranch, so I’m here to take it.”

She stared at each of them, the bitter animosity she’d fought to mask, now blazed in her gaze as anger ignited inside her at the thought of why she was there in the first place. If it wasn’t for what the ranch symbolised she would have told them all to kiss her ass a long time ago. But with the predicament she was in, she was now forced to kiss their asses.

The Douglas Ranch had been in her family since her great-great grandmother, Ida Douglas, a former slave with almost no education, had managed to purchase a small plot of land outside of San Antonio Texas during the Reconstruction Era. At the time, it hadn’t been much, but over the years, the ranch had grown in size, eventually becoming a lucrative and extensive ranching operation, until their name was synonymous with the wealthy black elite of Texas. That had all changed six years ago when her father died and her greedy, tramp of a step-mother squandered most of the family assets in one poorly conceived business deal after the next.

By the time Camille returned from her graduate studies in Dublin six months ago, it was too late. The ranch was up for foreclosure, and everything that her family had worked so hard for was now in the hands of their bitter enemies and hated rivals—the Downings. The four Downing brothers now held her family legacy in their hands, and with the exception of going on a murderous rampage, she would stop at nothing to reclaim her family heritage.

“Have a seat, Ms. Douglas,” Jackson, the second oldest said and waved his hand towards the lone chair in the middle of the room. She glanced at it. There were no other chairs in the room. She shook her head. There was no way in hell she was going to sit, while those cocky, arrogant bastards stood over her.

“No thank you. I’ll stand.”

Jackson shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Apparently, that had been their one attempt at courtesy. From the stubborn set of their matching jaw lines, Camille could tell that their southern hospitality well had probably dried up long ago—or at least it had towards her and her family. That was fine with her. She wasn’t there to be courted like some dainty southern belle. She was there to hear their terms so that she could negotiate the selling of her property back to her.

“Look gentlemen. There’s no sense in pretending that this is an amicable meeting, so why don’t we just skip the pleasantries and get straight to business. How much is it going to cost me to get my land back?” There. She’d said it. Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she watched them glance at each other, their expressions registering surprise. She was sure her bluntness had caught them off guard. No matter. That was the reason why she was there so it shouldn’t have come as too big of a surprise that the subject of her ranch would end up on the agenda.

Camille silently fumed, when they leaned in close to exchange hushed words. Their voices were barely more than a whisper, but she could still hear her name. She tapped her foot angrily against the soft carpeted floor, amazed by their rudeness, and a little annoyed that the sound of her stomping foot was muffled.

When they finished with their discussion, Jackson, Jeff and Jason all nodded at their older brother, as if signalling that they were in agreement.

She watched with wary eyes while Jacob studied her. His gaze settled first on her face, before leisurely drifting across her figure. A gasp of shock threatened to erupt from her lips when his eyes lingered on her overly large breasts that strained against her gray suit. As a size sixteen, it was hard to find decent clothing to contain them, but she thought she’d done a good job of hiding her chest that day. Apparently not. A fresh wave of fury washed over her as she bristled under his scrutiny, barely suppressing the urge to ask if he wanted a closer look when his eyes zeroed in on the area between her legs. She shook her head, appalled by his audacity. When he lingered there for several moments, she couldn’t contain herself any longer.

“Mr. Downing? Is there something that you would like to say to me—to my face?” She snapped angrily.

Jacob arched a single eyebrow and his lips curled up into a slight grin that looked more like a leer.

Her nostrils flared at the gesture. There was nothing amusing about his actions.

“Actually, there is.” His eyes held her gaze, his expression blank. “How much is the ranch worth to you?”

Camille stood there for several moments considering his question, before giving him the only answer that she could—the truth.

“It’s worth everything. It’s been in my family for generations, and I would do anything to keep it,” she said, knowing her eyes revealed the sincerity of her words.

“Anything?”

She blinked for several seconds. There was something in his voice that gave her pause, but she finally nodded saying, “Yes. I would do anything to keep it.” She fixed her gaze upon each of them before adding. “I cannot buy it at market value yet, but I have a trust and some money saved. I can give you some now and then work out a pay—”

“Thank you, Ms. Douglas for that offer, but we have already come to a decision on the payment plan.”

Relief instantly flooded her at his words, and for the first time since she’d agreed to the meeting, she allowed the tension to seep from her body. They were going to let her buy it back. She had been so worried that with the bad blood between their families they would simply refuse to sell.

“How much? How much do I owe you?”

“It’s not an amount.”

She shook her head, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not money we want from you.”

“Then how am I supposed to pay you back for the ranch? It’s worth almost three million dollars. What could I possibly give you that would compensate for the amount you paid?”

“Yourself.”

Her eyes widened, not quite comprehending Jacob’s statement. “Huh?”

“You are the payment, Camille.”

His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She stared up at them, the cold expressionless masks that were their faces. A soft gasp ripped past her lips when Jacob’s words finally penetrated the fog that had settled in her brain. They were serious. They wanted her as payment!

“P—payment how? In what capacity?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe they wanted her to be their housekeeper, because the alternative was infinitely more terrifying than the thought of scrubbing their floors and doing their dirty laundry for an eternity.

Jacob’s eyes flashed with impatience.

“What do you think, Camille? You are the payment.”

She shook her head in protest, but he ignored her.

“For six months you will serve all of our sexual needs in any way we see fit. You are to be available to service us at any time, and any place.” She had to restrain herself from rearing back in shock when she glimpsed the tiny flash of desire in his eyes.

“If you comply with our demands for the entire time, then the ranch is yours.”

She stood there stunned. Yet the shock was quickly replaced by fury.

“Absolutely not! I have a job gentleman and it does not include being your twenty-four hour mistress. Those terms are unacceptable—”

“This is not up for negotiation. This is the only offer we are making. You can either take it, or lose your ranch for good,” Jeff said.

She whirled around to stare at Jeff, the third oldest, surprised by his boldness. But then again he was a Downing so what had she truly expected?

“We were under the impression that as an advice columnist and freelance writer, you work mostly from home.”

She slid her gaze to Jason, the youngest, and shot angry daggers from her eyes at him for his insinuation.

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips.

“So you think because I work at home, that I having nothing but endless amounts of time to play your mistress?” She asked in a shrill voice.

Silence.

That’s exactly what they thought.

Her body trembled with barely contained rage as she met their arrogant gazes. They were insane.

“You know what, gentleman. This has been an interesting—”

“You have two days, Camille,” Jacob interrupted. “Two days to accept our offer.”

Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you forfeit any future rights to your ranch. We already own it, Camille. This is your last chance to get it back.”

If she’d been closer she would have slapped him. She already knew they owned it—

that’s why she was there in the first damned place.

“Two days, Camille,” he repeated before nodding towards the door.

She was dismissed.

Simmering with rage, she lifted her chin higher into the air, trying to muster the last vestiges of dignity she still possessed. She spun on her heel and stomped angrily towards the door. Flinging it open with a hard bang, she moved to exit the room, but stopped instead. Twisting her head around, she fixed them each with a chilly glare.

“Fuck you. Fuck all of you,” she shouted, before she slammed the door behind her.

She paused when she heard a soft thump from the other side of the door.

Ah, the sound of another expensively framed picture tumbling from the mantle. This time she didn’t even try to hide her smile.

* * * *

Shoving her mouth full of Krispy Kreme doughnuts probably wasn’t the wisest move, considering she was trying to lose weight, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her meeting with the Downing brothers had sent her spiralling towards meltdown and it was either binge and pay later, or grab a gun and march back over to their ranch. She figured grabbing a doughnut would keep her out of jail, but definitely not out of Weight Watchers.

She leaned back in her kitchen chair and closed her eyes. Chewing vigorously, she savoured the sticky glaze of the sweet treat. Not for the first time she wondered what the hell the Downing brothers really wanted with her, because functioning as their full time mistress certainly wasn’t it.

It was laughable really. They were four of the handsomest, wealthiest, and most eligible bachelors in all of Texas. Their mixed Spanish, native, and Irish heritage had proved the perfect combination for them, because they were so devastatingly handsome that it was almost nauseating. Evenly spaced two years apart with Jacob being the oldest at thirty-seven and Jason the youngest at thirty-one, the resemblance was so striking that it was impossible not to notice they were brothers.

She shoved another doughnut between her lips and moaned. As delighted as she was to binge on the over priced, high fat doughnuts, even her favourite treat couldn’t distract her for very long. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why they didn’t just let her pay them for the ranch in money. She had money, but with the loss of her ranch she was no longer considered truly wealthy, although that’s not what really mattered to her. Even after she got it back she still didn’t plan to live off of the revenues any more than she had since becoming an adult. She wanted the ranch back because of what it symbolised, not because of the money it generated.

Shaking her head, she blew out a deep, ragged breath. She just couldn’t put her finger on it. They could have any woman they wanted and yet they pretended they wanted her. It was a cruel joke, and she knew it.

At thirty-five she held no illusions regarding her limitations and failures. Her ex-husband had made sure she knew exactly how lacking she was. He had been cut from the same cloth as the Downings—wealthy, educated, powerful and handsome. Her father had practically forced her to marry him, even though he knew they didn’t love each other. She now wished she’d had the guts to stand up to her father back then. If she had, then maybe she wouldn’t have spent five years in a loveless marriage with a man who when he wasn’t ridiculing her for her lack of physical beauty he was too busy screwing around on her with women who were all the things she wasn’t.

It may have taken her five years to work up the nerve to leave Marcus, but she was proud that she managed to do it. If she hadn’t, she would have missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime. A year after her divorce she’d been offered a fellowship to study writing at Trinity College in Dublin, and she didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity. As Jason had pointed out she could write her column from anywhere, and she had. She’d spent two years in Dublin splitting her time between writing her column and earning her Masters. The experience had been invaluable for so many reasons, but mainly because it offered her the chance to heal and reclaim her sense of self worth.

“And now they’re trying to threaten my hard earned confidence,” she gritted out between bites.

Letting out a sigh, she stood and dragged herself to the full length mirror in the hallway of the apartment she’d been forced to rent. Still dressed in her suit, she stared at her reflection. She was all right. Her russet coloured hair danced about her shoulders, and curled down to her upper back, complimenting her smooth mahogany complexion. She tilted her head to study her face more closely. Framed by long lashes, her almond shaped topaz eyes, winked back at her from above her high cheekbones which drew attention to her full lips. She’d always been described as cute, which she guessed was better than the alternative. But she was no beauty. She stepped back to look at the total package. She could stand to lose a few pounds, okay several pounds, but she wasn’t bad. Still, she knew under her flattering suit, she carried pockets of fat and cellulite in more places than she wanted to contemplate.

She wondered how the perfectly made Downing brothers, with their flawless faces, and chiselled physiques would react to her less than perfect figure and face.

She abruptly turned from the mirror to plop back down in her chair. She couldn’t care less what those arrogant assholes thought of her. If she decided to accept their absurd and ridiculous agreement then it would be their own damn faults if they weren’t satisfied with what they got. They could have sold her the damn ranch like normal human beings!

* * * *

Jacob poured himself a shot of brandy into the glass snifter and swirled it around for several seconds before knocking it back in a single gulp. He winced as the warm liquid burned a trail down his throat to settle in his belly. Setting the glass aside, he turned from his office window and flopped down in his desk chair.

Dragging a hand across his face, he released a long breath. “What the hell did you do?” He asked himself for the hundredth time. Ever since Camille Douglas had stormed angrily from his home he’d questioned the wisdom of the ultimatum he’d issued her.

If his father were alive he’d be furious with him for putting Camille in such a compromising position. But he wasn’t alive and he had Camille’s mother to thank for that. Rage coursed through his veins as he curled his hands into angry fists. Every time he thought of Adel Douglas, blinding anger gripped him.

The affair between his father and Camille’s mother had begun a few years after the death of his own mother. His father didn’t think anyone knew, neither one of them did, but everyone in all of Macon knew. Adel’s affair with his father stretched on for years, until it was no longer a secret to anyone.

Naturally, Adel’s husband, Earl, developed a burning hatred towards his father and the entire Downing clan, which became the source of the bitter feud between the two families, a feud that turned particularly nasty after the death of Adel. Jacob was certain that the stress from learning of Adel’s betrayal after her death, along with the cutthroat tactics of Earl Douglas to undermine his ranching business, had killed his father. Camille’s parents ruined his entire life, and his father had died because Adel betrayed him and broke his heart.

Over the years, his brothers had moved on, entertaining the possibility that maybe Adel was innocent, but Jacob didn’t believe that for one second, which was why he’d devoted the last two years of his life to acquiring the fledging Douglas ranch. He only wished Earl Douglas was still alive to see that despite all of his lying, scheming and cheating, he could no more keep his ranch out of the hands of the Downings, than he could keep his wife.

Jacob relished the thought that his precious daughter would soon be added to the list. If the old man had been alive he would have surely died had he learned of the proposition he’d issued to Camille.

A wry smile crossed his face at that thought as he stood and poured himself another glass of brandy. This time he sipped on it slowly as his thoughts drifted from Earl Douglas to his daughter.

“Ahhh, yes, the lovely, untouchable, perfect Camille,” he murmured sarcastically as he glowered at the glass he held in his hand.

He’d known Camille all his life, but always from a distance. They’d attended the same schools, lived in the same social circle, even shared some of the same friends, but their contact with each other had always been limited. Jacob suspected because her father feared that his family would use her as a pawn to manipulate him. He was sure she’d been warned repeatedly to stay away from those evil Downing brothers. No matter what her father had said, she had certainly listened. When she wasn’t avoiding him entirely, she’d always treated him with cool distain. He’d always gotten the distinct impression that she thought he was beneath her.

He chuckled bitterly. Her blood probably ran cold at the thought of having to sleep with a Downing, as if she would sully herself by the very act. Despite a valiant attempt not to let his thoughts stray in that direction, an image of Camille entwined in his arms, her lush nude body glistening with a sheen of sweat, unwittingly popped into his head, causing a low groan to escape his lips. His mood soured as he downed the rest of his brandy. He was attracted to her. He’d been fighting it ever since she’d come back to Macon, but it was hard to ignore that the rail thin girl he’d remembered had blossomed into a beautiful, voluptuous woman.

“Life father, like son,” he muttered dryly. What was it about the Douglas women that drew men—Downing men especially.

Before she’d returned he’d had no plans to sell her ranch to anyone. He’d taken the Douglas land. He’d gotten his revenge. Then he’d caught a glimpse of her one evening while he was in town purchasing supplies for the ranch, and in that moment everything had changed. The feud wasn’t over. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he took everything from the Douglas family—including their virtuous daughter—especially their daughter.

His brothers thought he was crazy. Hell if he were them, he would too. But then Camille had walked into his office that morning and they’d all stood at attention. They’d practically fallen over themselves to agree to his plan. He couldn’t blame them. She was alluring with her feathery soft glossy curls and rich, silken skin that was as smooth and flawless as a dark chocolate dessert.

However, now that he had time to mull over his proposition, he realised it nagged at him that he’d included them in the first place. She was just supposed to be a means to an end—a tool for revenge. So why did the thought of sharing her with his brothers rankle him? He knew why. Because he wasn’t good at sharing. Not women—not anything.

He dragged a hand down his face and leaned back in his chair, now furious with himself that he’d set in motion a chain of events he was now powerless to stop. What had seemed like a perfect plot for revenge was slowly starting to feel like a huge mistake.

Camille fidgeted nervously in her car as she released a long, deep breath and gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned red. Glancing towards the house, she fixated on the light shining from the second floor. She gulped deeply. It was foolish to hope they weren’t home, or that they had all gone to sleep.

She now had—she glanced at her watch—less than thirty minutes to march inside and begin her contractual obligation to them.

Her decision had not been an easy one. She’d spent a sleepless night and a restless day pondering their offer. There were few—correction—there were no other options. This was her last chance—they knew it and so did she. Now the question was whether her family ranch was worth the humiliation of being at the beck and call of four men that she’d been taught to despise since the day she could say the word Downing.

Reaching for her purse, she dragged in a deep breath and piled out of her sporty Mercedes Coup—one of the last testaments to her life before her greedy, stupid stepmother had made such luxuries, just that a luxury. Now the bitch was long gone, off to find herself yet another rich widower, while she was there trying to pick up the pieces. It wasn’t fair.

With jerky movements, she ambled towards the front door and pressed the doorbell. How many times she’d screamed aloud and silently that it wasn’t fair, she couldn’t recall, but what she did know was that no matter how many times she said it, the end result was still the same. No, it wasn’t fair, but then life never was.

Camille’s heart skipped a beat when the door swung open. She swallowed the lump in her throat when her eyes met the steely blue gaze of none other than Jacob Downing. He stepped aside, and ushered her in.

With a soft thud, the heels from her shoes dug into the welcome rug that covered the doorstep. Not quite ready to face Jacob, she let her eyes dart about the foyer area. The last time she was there she’d entered from a different way, apparently because it was closer to their office. Now in the main entrance, she could see more of the actual home and from what she saw of it she had to admit it was nice. It was a classic ranch design but the décor was contemporary, with its russet stucco walls and its imported Schonbek chandeliers of the finest hand cut Swarovski crystal. It was definitely a man’s home, but it was clear that that man had expensive tastes.

“Come along,” Jacob murmured as he placed his large hand against the small of her back and urged her forward. “This way,” he said when she hesitated.

She nodded curtly before she forced herself to plant one foot in front of the other in order to ascend the stairs. Her hand trembled slightly and she gripped the banister tighter to steady herself.

Her nervousness increased steadily as they meandered their way through the home. Like her own family ranch home, this one was huge, and they walked for several seconds through winding corridors, before they stopped at a door.

Jacob dug into his pocket and pulled out a small key before slipping it into the lock and turning the knob.

He stepped aside to let her walk through the doorway first.

As soon as she stepped inside, she stopped in her tracks.

“This apartment has four bedrooms, two baths and a full kitchen. You can enter and exit from the garage which is through that door,” he said as he gestured towards a door adjacent to the kitchen area.

“It’s very private. My brothers and I will leave it up to you to decide whether you want housekeeping to come in and clean—”

She spun around to face him. “But I already have an apartment.”

His lips twisted into a disapproving frown. “Did we not make it clear to you that you are to be available to us at any time?”

She gritted her teeth together fighting against the tiny voice in her head that screamed at her to rake her nails down his face.

“This apartment is for our convenience. Not yours.”

She stood there fuming, but didn’t argue. What was there to say, really? She’d already agreed to this stupid charade. She knew the terms. If she was having a hard time accepting them then that was her problem not theirs.

“Do all four of you live here?”

He nodded. “I have a condo in Dallas because I do a lot of business there. Jackson also has a house in Houston, but basically this is our home.”

Her head began to spin at the revelation. Omigod. With nothing but a few steps separating her from them, she could very well find herself servicing them more than she did anything else.

“If you give me your keys I will have movers transfer your things here. We’ll also take care of breaking the lease on your apartment—”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“You won’t need it,” he added.

Her lips pursed into a frown, although she knew he was right. She tensed when he stepped towards her, his large frame edging into her personal space. She immediately took a step back, but his hand shot out to grasp her wrist, halting her futile attempt to escape his looming presence.

With hooded eyes, he leisurely studied her face. “When was the last time you took a lover?” he asked, his deep voice sliding over her with that husky quality that out of all of them, was unique to him.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes darkened with irritation. “When was the last time you had sex, Camille?”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “That’s none of your business! What I did before has—”

“Do I need to remind you that fighting me at every turn is not something I consider satisfying or pleasing?”

“So besides being your mistress on a string, I now can’t speak my mind or have any opinion?”

His eyebrows lifted at her outburst, before they snapped back down to frame unyielding eyes. “Not when it comes to sex. So again, when was the last time?”

Her nostrils flared at his words. She turned away from him then, effectively wrenching her wrist from his grasp. She was so embarrassed. How could she admit that she hadn’t slept with a man in over three years? Her ex-husband had stopped even pretending to desire her a year before the divorce and while in Dublin she was too busy trying to reclaim the person that she once was that she didn’t even consider opening herself up to a relationship. She ducked her head when her face began to flush with heat.

“Th—three years,” she whispered, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

“That probably means you don’t have very many pieces of lingerie,” he mumbled more to himself than to her, apparently unfazed by her humiliating declaration.

“I’ll go shopping with you tomorrow. My brothers and I don’t have exact tastes but they are similar. They can take you out later if they don’t like my selections.”

Her gaze snapped to his face. “So you make a habit of sharing women?”

He shrugged. “The younger three do, sometimes—”

“But you don’t?” She asked, wondering why that was.

“Nope. This is my first time.” His eyes seemed to burn a hole through her clothing as they travelled the length of her figure, much like he’d done two days ago in his office. “I’m possessive by nature,” he said softly.

Camille’s eyes grew wide at his statement, wondering exactly what he meant by that. She got the distinct impression that all of them were possessive by nature.

She opened her mouth to ask him to explain when a soft knock sounded at the door. Moments later it swung open.

Her heart squeezed tightly in her chest when she saw Jason, Jeff and Jackson stride through the doorway.

Damn.

She’d thought she’d at least have the first night off, but apparently not.

* * * *

Camille glanced at Jacob when he nodded at them.

They all returned his nod, before smiles broke out across their faces. She studied them as some type of silent communication passed between all four of them. She started to ask what was going on when Jacob spoke.

“She hasn’t had sex in three years,” he said casually.

She closed her eyes as waves of embarrassment washed over her.

“Really? Why not?” Jackson asked, turning his gaze towards her.

Her stomach dropped. She didn’t know how to answer that. She wondered if they didn’t really care if she answered, but when they all stood there silently waiting with expectant eyes she figured they cared after all.

“I—I um went through a divorce. And then I moved to Ireland. And I—I needed to get over my divorce,” she stammered.

“You still love him?”

She shook her head at Jackson.

“No,” she answered simply, relieved when they dropped the subject, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

“Take off your clothes.”

She stared at Jacob. “Huh?”

She nodded dumbly when impatience flashed in his eyes. Okay, I can see how my questions could get annoying.

Reaching for the hem of her sweater, she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside, before unfastening her jeans and shucking them down her thighs. She was so mortified when she had to hop slightly just to get them off because they were too tight.

“All of your clothes,” Jacob whispered.

Her stomach clenched into tiny knots when she lifted her gaze to stare at each of them. There had only been three lovers in her entire life, and none of them had ever been particularly overjoyed when they saw her naked. She had finally reclaimed her self esteem——she couldn’t backslide now, and she knew the Downing brothers had nothing but revenge on their minds. They would make her strip naked and then burst into fits of laughter. She was certain of it, and she refused to be a malicious pawn in their game. She’d agreed to their absurd bargain, but she refused to be ridiculed by them.

She jerked her head towards the light switch. “Can we dim the lights?”

“No,” Jacob said firmly.

She pursed her lips into a frown at his refusal. She glanced around at all of them, her eyes pleading. What she saw in their gazes confused her. There was some impatience, which she figured was due to her stalling, but that was overwhelmed by the sparks of desire that churned in the depths of their eyes.

Their desire was encouraging, but it wasn’t enough. She lowered her head, as tears burned the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t do it.

She’d never had the courage to undress with the lights on. She didn’t know how to do it now and certainly not with all of them standing there. They were just so perfect, and she was just so not.

She stiffened when Jacob stepped in front of her and reached around her back to unfasten her bra.

Leaning down, he placed a slow wet trail of soft kisses against her neck as he gingerly pried her lacy undergarment from her body.

“Don’t.” Jacob commanded when she moved to lift her hands to cover her breasts.

She stopped.

In a heartbeat he dragged her into his embrace and lowered his head to seize her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue slipped between her lips, stroking inside her mouth, lighting a fire that made her nipples harden and her pussy ache.

Tearing his lips from hers he slid down her body. With slow, torturous movements he placed gentle kisses across her jaw, down the column of her throat, between her breasts, and against her stomach. Once on his knees, he lifted his hands to loop his fingers under the elastic of her underwear.

“Look at me,” he barked out when she slid her gaze to the floor. She shifted her eyes to meet his. She held his gaze as he slowly pushed her panties past her hips, over her ass and down her legs. She stepped out of them, shocked when instead of flinging them aside, he balled them up and slipped them into his pocket.

“You won’t need them,” he murmured softly. “While you are inside these walls, you will not wear any panties,” he said and leaned forward to place gentle kisses against the mound of her pussy.

She cried out when he slipped his tongue between the folds of her wet heat, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her shaved pussy. He stroked his tongue back and forth, ploughing though her moist flesh, dragging ragged cries from her lips.

“Mmmm. You taste so good. I can’t wait to fuck your pussy,” he groaned before he shifted back on his heels and stood up.

He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers.

She’d been so focused on Jacob that she’d forgotten all about them.

They walked forward, their eyes now glowing with blatant lust. She looked down, shocked to see the soft cotton of their sweat pants tenting where their large erections poked out.

Jacob ushered her into the living room. There was a large dark oak table in the centre of the room, with soft, mauve cushions covering it. It was an odd table, but she thought nothing of it. She moved to sit down on a nearby couch, not knowing what else to do, but Jacob halted her in midstride when he wrapped his arm around her waist.

She stood there trembling with anticipation while each of them stripped out of their clothing. She worked hard to stifle the combined gasp of shock and moan of pleasure. As she’d known, they were all perfection. Broad chests, defined abs, taut muscular legs. Everywhere she looked, stood chiselled perfection and large, thick cocks. She gulped deeply. She knew she must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights but in truth that was exactly how she felt.

Her heart stopped when Jacob reached into a small drawer beside the couch and pulled out condoms and lubrication? She gasped. Jacob shot her a curious look but said nothing of her shocked gasp or wide eyes. Placing the items aside, she stood there dumbly while he directed the others. She knew he was giving them their positions, which was completely surreal to her. She thought they would take their turns with her, or something. She really hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility that she would be fucked simultaneously by four men in their prime. If this was what her nights were going to be like for the next six months, there was no way in hell she was going to last. Physically, she just wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“Hop on the table Camille,” Jacob instructed.

She glanced back at the table for the first time realising why it had cushions on it. In the back of her mind she wondered if they had bought the table that way or had it cushioned after they realised the utility in doing so.

With all the gracefulness of a bull in a china shop, she dragged herself on top of the table.

Jackson followed behind her.

“Lie down and open your legs,” he whispered.

She was getting the hang of this. They would command and then she would do.

Leaning back, she lifted her knees and spread her thighs.

She watched with anticipation as Jackson settled himself between her thighs. Leaning forward he buried his face in her pussy.

“Oh,” she cried out on a strangled moan when he began to fuck her with his mouth, alternating between shoving his tongue in and out of her hole and nibbling on her clit.

When he took two fingers and plunged them inside of her she nearly flew off the table.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as Jackson stroked his fingers inside of her, his lips sucking her clit hard.

It had been so long since a man had pleasured her and she could feel her orgasm quickly building at the centre of her pussy.

Her legs began to tremble with the force of her nearing climax. Clenching her eyes shut, she threw her head back, her spine arching as she came.

“Jackson,” she screamed, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers digging into his scalp as she pumped her hips off the table to grind her pussy against his face.

When the final aftershocks of her climax shuddered through her, she relaxed back against the table, spent.

But rest was to elude her that night.

Still thoroughly satiated, she felt Jackson lift her for a second, before he settled beneath her. The thickly muscled plane of his torso brushed against her back as she stretched out above him.

His cock nudged between the folds of her ass and she sucked in a breath. She had never been fucked in the ass before, and she was both thrilled and terrified by the idea. All thoughts of terror were quickly shoved from her mind when Jackson scooted them both towards the end of the table, so that if she tipped her head back it would rest just against the edge of the table.

She was curious about how this position was going to work when Jeff hopped up on the table to straddle her stomach.

She moaned when he leaned over to take her breasts into his hands. He massaged her breasts in his hands, playing with their lush softness for several moments. Then with gentle but firm strokes, he tugged at her nipples. A loud hiss escaped her lips when he leaned forward to feast upon them.

“Jeff,” she cried out when he buried his face into her chest.

For several moments he kneaded her breasts in his large hands, before squashing them together so that he could flick his tongue across the stiffened peaks of her nipples.

Her pussy began to quiver again as the tingling sensations slid from her sensitive nipples, down her spine to the centre of her moist heat. A strangled moan erupted from her mouth when he lifted his head from her breasts, and moved up her body to completely straddle her chest.

She lifted her head from the end of the table to watch what Jeff was doing, although she could feel every wondrous sensation.

He reached for lube from somewhere behind him and dribbled the cool liquid across her breasts.

She hissed softly as shivers racked her body when he massaged the slippery wetness into her breasts moments before he slid his cock between the full mounds.

“Ohhhh,” she cried out and her head fell back when Jeff began to vigorously fuck her breasts.

With her head back and her mouth open, Jason seized the opportunity to press his stiff cock against her parted lips. It was in that moment when she finally understood why Jackson had positioned her in such a manner. Everyone now had access.

She hesitated briefly before she stuck out her tongue to swipe across the head of his dick.

“Shit,” he hissed as he clenched his jaw tight. “Suck it,” he commanded softly.

Their eyes met as she opened her mouth at the same moment Jason pressed his cock between her lips.

He groaned loudly, his hand gripping her face on both sides.

She wrapped her lips securely around his cock and sucked hard, taking him deep into her mouth letting the tip of his cock graze the back of her throat.

With the position she was in, he had to stroke his cock in and out of her mouth as she was powerless to set the rhythm while she worked furiously at sucking his hard length.

“Ah, Camille,” Jason rasped, his slow strokes growing more urgent, though he was still careful not to thrust too hard into her mouth given the vulnerable position.

Her tongue swirled around the thick base of his dick when he entered and then slid across the slit in the middle of the head when he pulled out. His breath came in short pants every time she flicked her tongue around the crown of his cock, before dipping under the sensitive fold of skin. His eyelids slid shut as his head fell back—the veins in his neck bulging against his skin.

She continued to suck his dick as he stroked slowly in and out of her mouth until suddenly she felt pressure against her anus.

She tensed, which caused Jason to break his rhythm but he didn’t stop, and neither did Jeff as he quickened his thrusts between the valley of her breasts.

She stiffened when Jackson reached down between their bodies to stroke one lubricated finger inside her ass, pushing through the clenching muscles. He stroked his finger in and out of her virgin anus before he added another lubricated finger.

“Relax,” crooned Jackson.

She couldn’t. The pressure was overwhelming.

“Close your eyes and focus on the heat building inside your pussy,” whispered Jackson.

She did—and it helped. The pressure was still there, but it was different. She could feel her pussy beginning to clench and unclench with the new sensation of having her rectum probed.

“Jackson,” she cried out in distress when he replaced his plunging fingers with the head of his cock.

“It’s alright Camille. Just relax.” She heard Jacob say in the distance.

At his words, some of the tension flowed from her body. She didn’t know why, but when he said it, she believed it.

She clenched her eyes tight as Jackson fed his condom lubricated cock into her anus, inch by inch. The coolness of the lubricating gel made her tense up again.

“Camille, baby, it’s okay. You have to relax,” Jacob whispered again.

Her eyes flew open then when at the same time Jackson plunged the last inch of his cock inside her rectum, Jacob surged forward to bury his dick deep inside her dripping cunt. She’d been so fixated on Jackson’s entry that she never noticed Jacob sliding along the length of her body to grip her thighs and spread them apart.

It was all just too much. The sensations were overwhelming as each brother probed her body with their massive cocks.

Her pussy began to vibrate with another orgasm as Jacob pounded inside her, his cock hammering into her tight sheath over and over again.

“God, Camille, you’re so tight,” Jacob rasped out. She knew it was him. Surprisingly, she already knew the distinct, timber of each of their deep voices, but Jacob’s gravelly tone was easy to distinguish.

Loud grunts and rough groans filled up the spacious room, echoing against the walls. She laid there, the centre of their lusts while they both used and pleasured her body at the same time.

Jason was the first to lose control.

She could tell he was close to coming when his strokes grew more haphazard, his hips jerking wildly back and forth.

She released a soft moan, letting the vibrations glide across his cock as she tightened her lips around him.

“I’m coming,” he rasped out moments before his cock exploded, shooting jet after jet of warm, milky semen into her mouth.

Mindful, of the position she was in, Jason immediately pulled his still rigid length out of her mouth and lifted her head so that she could swallow his cum down her throat without choking.

Still holding her head, he leaned down to press a soft kiss against her lips before he stepped away from her, disappearing from her line of vision.

She was so intent upon searching for Jason that it took her several moments to realise that Jacob, Jeff and Jackson had all stopped to shift her body down so that her head could rest fully on the table.

As soon as she was fully on the table, they resumed fucking her with deep, hard strokes.

Jacob was the roughest, as he slammed into her clenching sheath with penetrating thrusts.

She could hear guttural sounds coming from his mouth as he fucked her, his words unintelligible.

As he held her thighs wide, all she could do was lose herself in the sensation of having him ram his huge erection into her cunt, the tip of his dick brushing against her G-spot, causing white hot shocks to surge through her body with each brutal stroke.

Abruptly, she felt Jeff stiffen above her, moments before a shower of tiny beads of warmth tickled her breasts and nipples.

She lifted her head to see Jeff’s head roll back on stiff shoulders that bunched and corded with tension, as he grasped his cock in his hand, wringing out the last drops of his semen. She stuck out her tongue just in time to catch the final tiny droplets of his cum that splattered all the way to her lips.

The action drew Jeff’s gaze, and a crooked grin lifted his mouth before he leaned forward to place a gentle peck against her forehead.

With achingly slow movements he slid from her body and off the table.

Much like she did with Jason she tried to watch where he disappeared to, but just like the last time her attention was dragged back to the thrusting cocks of the two men that remained inside her body.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened as Jackson and Jacob flipped her. She was amazed at the ease with which they did it. The effort seemed well coordinated since neither one pulled out to do it. She wondered just how many times they had fucked the same woman at the same time, but then remembered Jacob had said this was his first time at sharing.

From the new position, Jackson was able to work his dick deeper inside her. Shoving his cock forward, be buried his stiff erection deep into her rectum over and over again with vigorous strokes.

“Jackson,” she cried out. Her anus was burning and though she could feel tiny waves of pleasure, it did nothing to mask the twinge of pain that accompanied every thrust into her ass.

With deep probing strokes, he pounded into her, his balls slapping against her flesh.

At the same time, Jacob surged his hips upwards, sinking his cock into her dripping pussy.

“Yes, Camille. Yes,” she heard Jackson roar out just as his body stiffened and warm cum burst from his cock to fill up the condom that separated their bodies.

He leaned forward, his warm breath sliding across her shoulder as his cock twitched deep inside her anus, still pumping seed into the thin barrier of the condom.

“Mmmm,” he moaned out deeply before he placed a gentle kiss against the back of her neck and slipped his cock from her body.

“Ahhh,” she cried out softly, the withdrawal of his erection causing tiny slivers of pleasure-pain to crawl up her spine.

Another sharp cry escaped from her lips when Jacob pushed her back so that she could straddle him fully, his huge cock now buried to the hilt inside her cunt. Her chest heaved from exertion. She wasn’t to get even a moment’s break!

“Ride me,” he whispered, and his hands gripped her hips, his nails digging into the soft flesh.

She lifted her hips to ride him, but he didn’t really give control over to her. Clutching her waist, he jerked her down on his cock, impaling her hard on his shaft.

“Jacob,” she screamed throwing her head back, her hair brushing against her shoulders.

“That’s it baby. Ride my cock.”

Her breasts jiggled wildly as he forced her down on his dick, ploughing his stiff erection through the tight muscles and tender flesh of her pussy.

Her cunt was so wet from all of the sensations of being fucked by him and his brothers that her juices dribbled all over his bare cock.

With Jacob’s rough stabbing strokes up into her pussy and his steel length scraping against her clit with each thrust, she could feel another orgasm approaching.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” she rasped out. Her body trembled and her channel pulsed around Jacob’s pounding length. Clenching her eyes shut, she stiffened above him as her climax roared through her body like a raging fire. Pumping her hips wildly, she bounced on his cock as she came in a blinding rush that was so powerful it sent her hurling forward against his chest.

Lying spent against Jacob’s torso, she panted while he reached around to cup the full globes of her ass. Clutching her ass, he jerked her down on his cock at the same time he rammed his dick up inside her. He pounded into her still spasming pussy so hard, that the sounds of his flesh slapping against hers echoed off the walls. Holding her tight, he impaled her on his shaft with deep, stabbing strokes before he suddenly jerked beneath her.

“Shit, Camille,” he growled, his warm breath tickling her ear.

With his eyes clenched shut and his muscles corded tight, he released a loud roar as he dug his fingers deep into her ass.

She worked her inner muscles, clenching and unclenching her pussy around his cock.

“Camille,” he growled out on a strangled groan just as she felt his dick jerk inside of her and erupt, spurting loads of hot cum deep into her cunt.

He came for a long time, his cock shooting endless jets of cum into her pussy until some spilled from her hole.

She remained still against his chest, limp as a rag doll, while he panted beneath her. Exhausted and thoroughly satiated, she closed her eyes then and drifted off to sleep with Jacob’s cock still nestled deep inside her tender sheath.

* * * *

Jacob lifted a sleeping Camille off of him for just a moment to hop down from the table and gather her into his arms before padding on bare feet to her bedroom where he gently laid her on the bed, and tucked her under the covers. He stood there watching her as he experienced a moment’s hesitation before he shucked aside his reservations and slipped under the covers beside her.

His eyes widened in surprise when she instantly rolled over into his arms. He lifted a shaky hand to push back a curly tendril of hair from her forehead as he held her against him. What was he doing? As soon as he tucked her into bed he should have gotten up and left, just as his brothers had done. But here he lay, wide awake with Camille snuggled in his arms.

He released a long sigh and let his eyes drift closed, although he knew sleep would elude him that night. Too many disturbing thoughts brewed inside his head to allow his mind to settle into slumber.

For starters, he felt like an ass. For some reason, he’d never considered that there was a softer, vulnerable side to Camille. When they were younger, she’d always come across as confident, possessed of a quiet dignity. And when he saw her again, weeks ago, and the beautiful woman she’d grown into, he’d been sure that she still possessed that same confidence. How could she not? She was a wealthy, beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t fall at her feet to do her bidding? And then he’d glimpsed the fiery spirit inside her when she’d stormed in and out of his office days ago like a summer hurricane, but tonight she’d shown him another side of herself. A side he’d never seen before.

He’d almost called the entire thing off when he watched moisture gather in her eyes as she protested removing her clothing before them. She was a beautiful, sensual woman. He’d never suspected she was insecure when it came to her body. Her figure was lush and feminine, just the way he liked his women. He loved how her soft thighs had cushioned him as he rode her and that her round hips had been supple as he held her above him while she bounced up and down on his cock. She had no reason to be ashamed of her body, and yet he’d seen it on her face, and in that moment he’d cursed himself for putting that look of fear in her eyes. She was vulnerable and that knowledge both surprised and pleased him. Dumb as he was, he’d placed Camille on a pedestal of sorts. In his eyes, she was the haughty and conceited Douglas girl. For so long that’s what she’d been to him that he’d allowed himself to forget that she was a woman, who had her insecurities just like any other woman. It was easy to hate her when she was just his enemy’s daughter, but to see her as Camille the woman, made it harder to hold onto his anger towards her.

She mumbled softly and snuggled deeper into his embrace, and he stroked his fingers up and down the bare skin of her shoulder, holding her close. He ached to roll her beneath him and ride her lush body again, but he did his best to tamp down his growing arousal. She’d had a long day. This was a huge adjustment for her and he knew she needed to rest. Besides, he didn’t quite trust himself at the moment with his lack of control.

As part of the contract, they’d all verified their sexual health with their medical records and agreed to use protection at all times. Although Camille was on birth control, they’d just felt it was simply in all of their best interests to use condoms as well. He’d insisted on that point and then agreed to it, but when he’d settled between her warm thighs all thoughts of that one stipulation had flown from his head.

He hadn’t forgotten to use protection with a woman since his early days in college. He dragged in a deep breath. How the hell did you forget to use a condom, you jackass? It just didn’t make sense to him, given his pragmatic diligence when it came to these things. And yet, he didn’t even think about using one until the moment he felt himself exploding deep within her, but by then it had been too late. His lack of control and complete loss of willpower almost shocked him more than what he’d actually done.

She suddenly shifted against him to toss her leg over his. He stiffened when her thigh brushed against his hardening length, causing his erection to poke out against the white sheet. In that moment he knew he should have done what any gentleman would do. Drag himself out of her bed, and run to the nearest cold shower. But he was no gentleman, and yet at the same time he would like to think he wasn’t a complete jerk either.

So while he suffered most of the night in a painfully aroused state, he kept his small promise to himself and did not make love to her again that night.