Brown, Berengaria - Shared Possession [Possessive Passions 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

BOOK: Brown, Berengaria - Shared Possession [Possessive Passions 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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Besides, how could one man alone care for such a cherished entity as a wife? It was no surprise so many marriages broke up in the outside world. No one man could ever be all things to a woman. How could he be by her side helping her each day yet still out on the farm caring for the animals, tending the crops, or in an office earning credits. It simply wasn’t possible.

As the youngest, Paul had no memories of his two fathers changing diapers or bathing him, but he had clear pictures of when he was very small and Father would hold Jim and Sam by the hand while Dad carried him on his shoulders as they walked to the shopping center or the temple. Even with only three children, his parents had been fully occupied watching them all.

As the eldest, Jim had spent the most time on the land, caring for the crops and herds. Since their ancestors were original settlers and the farm was above ground, they kept cattle and grew rice and had a vegetable garden and fruit trees. There were chickens and a fish pond and even a flower garden. At the time Paul had been born, they’d still had horses, but they were very old and no longer used to work the farm. They were kept as pets for the boys until they’d died of old age.

Sam had concentrated on earning credits. He helped on the farm and was an excellent cook, but most days, he spent a few hours in the administrative building in the community center earning credits for the family.

Paul had helped on the farm and in the house. As his parents grew older, he’d taken on more and more of their chores, and when they’d gone to join the ancestors, he’d taken over complete running of the home and the business aspects of the farm, freeing Jim for the outside work.

What would Chevaunne want to do? he wondered. Would she be a nurse at the hospital, continuing her former career here at New Thimphu? Or would she be like some of the other women filling their days with watching movies, shopping, and drinking coffee with their friends? Somehow he didn’t think Chevaunne would be like them. She seemed more focused and eager to be helping others. But her lifestyle was hers to choose.

Paul’s breath hitched. Perhaps she was already pregnant and her belly would grow fat with their child. A little girl with gray eyes and long, brown hair, just like Chrevaunne’s. He’d always wanted a baby sister to dress in pretty clothes and show off to his friends. A little daughter would be perfect. He’d dress her in golden lace gowns and—

Paul reined in his thoughts. It was very rare, but some brothers never had a child. He must be sensible about this. Likely, she’d want to get to know her new home, her husbands, and community a little before there was a child. She was theirs to love and cherish always. She was their shared possession, their perfect woman, his beautiful lady. Any child that came along would simply be a bonus.

* * * *

Chevaunne wiggled and stretched, loving the feeling of being surrounded by hard male bodies. Already she was getting to recognize them by feel—Jim’s broader shoulders and more muscular body, Sam’s longer length all over, especially his legs and fingers. Paul was the snuggly one. Whenever he was next to her, his head was burrowed into her neck or his body pressed fully into hers. Paul was behind her, Sam in front of her, and Jim’s muscular leg was intertwined with hers, she deduced, then opened her eyes to see if her guesses were right. Yes, yes, and yes.

As soon as her eyes opened, Sam kissed her nose and said, “Ah, sleeping beauty awakes. Jim turned the hot tub on a little while ago. It should be almost ready for us by now.”

Chevaunne looked around the room. Most of the candles had burned out, but a few still flickered. The drapes over the window were drawn, but there was still light coming into the room, so it wasn’t late. She couldn’t have napped for very long. “What time is it?” she asked curiously.

Paul bounded off the bed and left the room, returning quickly with a small clock he set on the nightstand. “Only a little after five. Time for a nice long soak in the tub before dinner.”

“Oh.” Chevaunne blushed. What was going to happen about cooking and housework? Would she be in charge of that now, or would they help her? And what sort of foods would they eat? All the foods at her wedding meal had been familiar to her, but the pomegranate juice at breakfast had not been. Learning some new recipes might be fun as long as the men didn’t complain if she made a few mistakes in the early stages.

Sam pulled her to her feet. “I can see your mind whirring at a mile a minute. Come and relax. Let us wash you, and you can ask all those questions running through your head.”

Sam held her hand as she stepped over the side of the tub onto the seat. Wondering how deep the tub was, she stepped farther off the seat and into the center of the tub. The water was considerably above her waist, almost to her breasts, which proved what she’d guessed as she stepped in—the tub was sunk well below floor level.

“Wow. I bet you all learned to swim in here when you were little,” she joked.

“Almost. We certainly played in here a lot when we weren’t allowed outside,” replied Jim.

“From when I was five until I was eight, there was a lot of new building happening in the community center. That’s when apartment blocks gold and purple were built and also the new office block. All the younger adults were working very hard for long hours to do the building, and they worked in teams twenty-four-seven. Each day a group of mothers would come here and the children would play outside. Sometimes half a dozen children, other times just two or three acting as if they were our family. They would wear our clothes and their mothers would do a little work in our garden or orchard so the children could run around and exercise for a while. That was in case Green Ridge people saw them. So outsiders wouldn’t realize how many people are in our community.”

“I’m three years younger than Jim, thirty-three to his thirty-six, but I remember bits and pieces of that time. There was one little girl who never wanted to go outside. She seemed afraid of the sunshine or something.”

“Who was that?” asked Paul. “I was just a baby. I don’t remember anything at all about the building.”

“Kesse. She works in the temple now and seldom leaves the temple precinct. You’ve heard a little of our childhood. Tell us a story from yours, Chevaunne,” Sam said.

She thought for a moment then said, “I was an only child and for years asked my parents for a brother or sister every Christmas. But they were both only children and firmly believed a single child had more advantages than siblings. When I was nine they gave me a kitten, and I dressed that poor kitten in doll’s clothes, wheeled it around in a baby buggy, and treated it just like a real child. The poor thing eventually ran away. I must say, I can’t blame it.”

“Is that why you became a nurse?” asked Paul, moving closer to her on the tub bench where they now all sat.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve always wanted to help people. I know making beds and changing bandages isn’t very exciting, but sitting and talking to people, hearing their stories, making them feel better, suits me. From time to time, I get to do something really worthwhile, like help a doctor save someone’s life or bring a new baby into the world, and that’s very special indeed.”

“If you want to continue nursing, the hospital will welcome you,” said Jim.

“They’ve almost finished adding a wing for the very old. Our seniors never used to live so long because they worked hard on their farms, and many had suffered much stress and persecution because they followed the traditional ways. Now we live here in safety and freedom, our diet is nutritious, and our drinking water is clean, so people are living much longer. But they need much more care in advanced age.

“Some of them, their minds wander and they forget where they are and how to speak English. So we’re making a special senior’s place where the rooms all flow one into the other, and the only door they can see leads out into a central courtyard garden that’s fully surrounded by the other rooms of the wing. Each room looks out onto that garden. There they can sit in the garden and walk around as much as they like without ever getting lost.”

“Jim, that sounds wonderful. I’d love to work there. I did some extra study in gerontology and the diseases of aging. I love sitting with the elderly and listening to their stories. So many of them have had truly fascinating lives. But what about my duties here? I mean—”

“The decisions are for you to make. You decide which tasks you wish to do, if any. Our duty is to love you, to pleasure you, and to cherish you all the days of our lives,” said Paul, quoting the marriage vows. He took her hand and sucked the smallest finger into his mouth with such a carnal look on his face, her belly clenched and her pussy creamed instantly.

“But you kidnapped me!”

“Well, yes, it’s the way our people have always chosen their brides. Although technically it was abduction, not kidnapping, as no ransom was asked for,” said Sam.

The serious look on his face made her smile.

“So who does the laundry, and the cooking, and the cleaning here?” she asked, still a little confused.

“We all help, depending on who is least busy. I do quite a bit of cooking because it’s something I enjoy,” said Sam.

“I do a lot of what you would call the traditional household tasks, and Jim does mostly farm chores, but we all help each other. It’s up to you to choose what you wish to do, how much, how often, or if at all. The woman is the cornerstone of the family. The men must assist her,” added Paul.

“I would like to learn how to cook some of your
favorite dishes
—”

“And you must show me how to make your favorites,” broke in Sam.

“Deal. I certainly won’t miss having to clean the bathroom.”

Jim and Sam laughed, and Paul groaned.

They all rested back against the side of the tub, and Chevaunne enjoyed the hot water lapping her breasts, breathing the steam deep into her lungs. It was still hard to believe she was here, married to three men, living a new life. Her entire life had changed in the blink of an eye.

“Am I remembering correctly that you said you’d called me in sick this week and that someone was getting my things from the city? Or did I imagine all that?” she asked.

“No, that’s right. George and Wang have picked up all your things from your apartment. We’ll move them into your room tonight,” replied Sam.

“I need to write a resignation from my job and close my bank account, chores like that. I suppose I ought to write a list of things to do,” she added.

“You don’t have to close your bank account. As long as you can do online banking, you may as well leave your money where it is, unless you particularly want to change it.”

“But won’t I need to fill in a whole lot of paperwork now that I’m married?”

“Not really,” said Jim. “Our society traditionally doesn’t use last names. Our people used to only have one name, but for legal reasons, people born here have all adopted a family name. You already have a last name, so you can keep it. Our women don’t take their husbands’ names, and the community pays all utilities bills and so on, so really there’s not much you need to alter. Your car is in the parking lot with all the other vehicles, and the mechanics will make sure it’s always in good condition if you want to drive anywhere.”

“The next time we’re in the community center we’ll go to the administration building, and you can complete any forms you need to,” added Paul.

“So easy,” she said, surprised.

“Our lifestyle is simple and family-oriented. Over the years, the community has made everything as stress-free as possible for the people.” Sam grinned.

“What is your last name? And how old are you, Paul?” Chevaunne asked, suddenly realizing there were a couple of major gaps in her knowledge about her husbands.

“On official paperwork, Namgyal, but in conversations and in the outside world, Neal. And I’m thirty-one. My birthday is May twenty-third, Sam’s is July second and Jim’s is October fourteenth. Your birthday is April fifth, and you turned thirty this year,” he added, showing her the men had done some research.

Jim stood and reached across to the sink, coming back with a big sponge and a cake of pink soap. “This is from Shiloah, some of their rose soap. When we shop, you need to tell us your favorite fragrances so we can make sure there’s plenty of soaps and shampoos you like.”

“Oh, I like her rose products. I’d enjoy using them—unless—are they very expensive?” she asked hesitantly.

“Anything bought and sold within the community is priced fairly to reward the worker for their labor with a profit but not place it out of the reach of the average person. Once we sell goods and services out in the world, all bets are off. They’re priced at whatever the market will bear. Because we have our own production and distribution system, such handmade goods as these bring our community a lot of money. Within the community, we have a system of credits giving all types of work an equal value. The dollars people earn in the outside world are taxed by the community at ten percent, which becomes community credits. The rest goes to the person who earned it,” said Sam.

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