“Never mind.” Zeke squeezed her hand and led her from the bed to the bath. Jacob followed and touched several of the rocks.
In seconds, warm water filled the tub where it swished and swirled. More moisture misted from the limestone ceiling, directly above the receptacle, to create a gentle shower-like effect.
Liz put her palm beneath it. Pearls of water collected in her hand and dripped from her fingers.
Zeke kissed her shoulder. Jacob, her cheek. “Come on,” Zeke murmured, directing her into the tub. “We’ll give you a bath.”
She looked down at herself as though checking to see what they wanted to wash away. “Why?”
“Because we want to?” Jacob asked, joining them.
Zeke had to smile at his brother’s guileless, eager answer. The three of them being together in here would have seemed impossible days ago. It wasn’t something Zeke would have permitted, given his love for Liz.
His feelings for Jacob were as deep—the kind only brothers can have for each other—and no longer complicated. In Zeke’s mind, they’d never again be rivals for Liz. She belonged to him, always would. However, Jacob would also have a part in their lives. He no longer seemed to mind his secondary status. He seemed content with it, grateful.
Liz regarded Jacob’s erection. Water streamed from the ruddy crown. She actually licked her lips and answered his question with one of her own. “Know what I’d like to do?”
Zeke eased Liz’s damp hair from her neck and kissed it. “What?”
She took the soap, lathered her hands and sank to her knees.
Her breasts seemed to float on the bubbly water. She worked the scented lather over Jacob’s dark bush and Zeke’s, then down both of their rigid rods.
“Okay then,” Zeke breathed, having no objections to her intimate touch.
Jacob said something similar. After that, Zeke couldn’t focus on anything other than Liz’s hand caressing, fondling, squeezing his cock.
Damn.
She ran her thumb over the tiny opening in the head and stroked the bumpy skin on the back. Zeke gritted his teeth at the pleasure tearing through him. He pressed his toes into the stone to keep from tottering back and losing his balance.
As he heaved in air and attempted to regain some control, she concentrated on Jacob, no doubt working her magic on him.
My turn now, Zeke thought. Come back to me, touch—sweet Jesus.
She’d taken him into her mouth.
Zeke clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt. However, it did keep him from screaming his joy at the incredible sensations she’d generated. With his head hanging between his shoulders, he watched her lips moving up him, finally touching his dark curls. At the same time, she fondled Jacob’s balls.
His brother gasped, swallowed loudly, then gasped again.
Zeke’s shoulders bunched. He squeezed his fists at Liz licking and suckling his cock. She did it so well he was a breath away from climax.
She pushed him over the edge by cupping his balls and squeezing them gently.
He came on a choked cry, not certain his legs would hold him much longer. As he struggled to remain upright, Liz ministered to Jacob, cleansing his cock and balls thoroughly, then taking him in the same fashion.
Eventually, they’d washed her, making certain her openings were prepared for their further use. Jacob got to bathe her breasts. She’d pressed her face against his shoulder as Zeke washed her cunt, then her tight ring of flesh.
He’d returned to her soft folds and explored them and her clit so thoroughly Liz came yet again.
At last, they were back in bed, this time with Jacob taking Liz vaginally from behind. As she submitted to his carnal need, she’d licked and loved Zeke’s cock, his balls.
Their newest orgasms were as powerful as the first. They collapsed as they had earlier. After another brief rest, they finally stirred.
Zeke ran his fingers down Liz’s arm, unable to stop touching her, checking to see if she was all right. Jacob was no different. He stroked her hip. Glancing at each of them, she murmured, “Did it work?”
Zeke brushed his mouth over hers. Jacob eased her hair away and kissed her temple.
“Did what work?” Zeke whispered.
“Your plan to restore me…to return what I’d given to both of you.”
Zeke exchanged a glance with Jacob. His brother looked as though he hadn’t a clue what to say and was going to leave that up to him.
Suppressing a sigh, Zeke regarded Liz. Contentment registered on her features, her color was rich, her breathing relaxed not exhausted. She looked about as hearty as a person could. For how long? He didn’t want to think about it.
“I can’t be sure,” he said. “We’ll have to keep doing this until I’m certain.”
“That’s right,” Jacob said, cupping her breast.
Amusement and skepticism played across her face. “When do you think that might be?”
The memory of her slumped over in the Jeep returned to plague Zeke. “I don’t know. Let me take this slow, all right?”
“But what if—”
“Shhh.” He rested his forefinger against her lips. “Relax. Go back to sleep.”
Liz wrapped her hand around his finger and pulled it away gently. “And then what?”
“More of this,” Jacob answered. He snuggled his face against her neck and kissed it.
She sighed happily.
Zeke watched for a moment and then surrendered to weariness, thankful for it. He wanted only to sleep for a little while longer. To forget the bad that always seemed to be awaiting them.
He breathed deeply and held it, forgetting to release the air. His vision was that quick and ruthless. His body stiffened at the image his mind revealed.
That same female hand wrapped around a knife, the blade wet with blood.
Whose?
He tried to see details, but couldn’t. A silk scarf had floated into the scene, its fabric black. The same as the nails on that woman’s—
No.
The scarf was around a female’s throat. The woman with the knife? A man’s hands tugged on the ends, using it as a garrote to strangle her. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. She’d already clawed the man’s hands in an attempt to get him to stop. He tightened his grip.
Zeke struggled to see more.
His vision showed only her mouth and throat, her futile struggle to survive. Her skin turned the same shade as a bruise while her thickened tongue pushed out between her lips.
Falling. Zeke watched her body drop to the floor, the movement so fast she was no more than a blur, her individual characteristics unidentifiable. Without warning, the scene changed, morphing from her into Carreon’s face.
He regarded the strangled woman, his light eyes empty of sorrow or regret. His mouth formed one word over and over…
Liz, Liz, Liz.
She backed away from Zeke in his vision. Grief flooded her features. Tears dampened her cheeks. Why? He reached out to her, but she was too far away to touch, Carreon suddenly at her side. He’d clamped his hand on her arm so she couldn’t move, couldn’t leave him.
Liz!
Zeke’s thoughts screamed for her. He lunged at Carreon, needing to kill him. The bastard disappeared with Liz, leaving Zeke alone with another horror. He gaped at a woman’s legs sprawled on a carpet. She wore jeans that looked all too familiar. The ones Liz wore?
No, no, no, no, no—
The moccasin on her left foot was partially off, still hiding her toes. The area beneath her legs was damp. With what?
Zeke flinched at a burst of light, the whoosh that accompanied it. Fire? Yes. The flames licked the moccasin, the foot. Where? How? Not Liz. Couldn’t be—
“Zeke?”