Read One for Three [Elite Dragons 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Online
Authors: Becca Van
Tags: #Romance
The Elite Dragons had been formed ten years previously. They had all become very close as their enhanced abilities had grown. His men were his family and protected each other as no other ever could.
“We have to wait and see. We don’t know who she is or how she is going to hold up. Don’t get too attached until we know more about her,” Coulter responded.
“You’re not the only ones,” Coulter heard Seton mutter quietly in his earpiece. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw that among his teammates, each family unit was attending to a particular woman. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. It looked like he and his brothers weren’t the only ones to have found a woman they could share and maybe love. But first he needed her to survive.
Brooke groaned and tried to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut, and it took her several tries to pry them open. She sighed when she finally got them open and stared at the white ceiling. She was warm and dry, and she wasn’t in that dungeon-type basement anymore. She thought she was alone until a deep voice off to her side said, “How are you feeling? Easy, baby. You’re safe now.”
“Where am I? Who are you?” Brooke croaked.
The man moved and sat on the side of the bed. He slid an arm beneath her head and shoulders and held a glass to her lips. Brooke drank in sips, careful not to overload her stomach. She gave a slight shake of her head when she’d had enough water.
“My name is Coulter Thornell. You are in my home across the border in North Dakota. You’re safe now. How are you feeling?”
“O–Okay,” she stammered. She tried to ignore the presence of the large and very handsome man on the edge of the bed and figure out what was going on. She had no recollection of getting here, and she wondered how long she had been asleep.
Looking around, she realized that this room didn’t look like a hospital. There were no beeping machines or nurses, just ordinary bedroom furniture.
So where am I? And where are the others?
With a jolt of fear, she remembered the other women in the basement. Had they gotten out, too?
The wealth of questions in her mind came pouring out all at once. “But how did you know where we were? And how did you find us? And why should I—?”
The man laughed, the deep, sexy sound rolling over her in waves, and cut her off. As he sat next to her, she relished the dry warmth radiating from his body, such a welcome relief after the frigid dampness of her horrendous prison.
“I lead an elite squad within the United States Army. With the cooperation of the Canadian government, we were tasked to find you and the other women in the basement.”
An elite squad?
The cynical part of Brooke’s mind, jaded from her trauma, found that suspicious. She didn't know much about the military, but this didn't seem like an army base to her. Coulter wasn't even wearing a uniform. She was unsettled by the fact that she was in some unknown location and that the other women were out of sight, but it was hard to hold on to her skepticism and doubt
.
The irrational side of Brooke’s mind, the part that operated off of emotion and intuition, wanted desperately to trust him.
Could it really be any worse than that basement?
Brooke had already been held prisoner and tortured. She was alive, and apparently this man had saved her.
“Right. US Army. But did the others get out, or did you just rescue me?” she asked, her anxiety mounting once again.
“Shh, take it easy, Brooke. All the women are safe. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll bet you’re hungry and want a shower. I have some clothes here for you,” Coulter stated, holding up some large sweatpants and a sweater. “I know they aren’t in your size, but you’ll have to make do for now. Come on, I’ll help you shower.”
Brooke eyed the large man. She’d never seen such a sexy, hot, handsomely rugged male before. She had to fight back the urge to giggle. Hell Adonis, had nothing on this guy, and he put Zeus and Hercules to shame. He had light-blue eyes, short blond hair, and his face was bristled along the jaw. He had to be at least six foot two and two hundred pounds. He was packed full of muscle, which she could see rippling beneath the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. He had muscular pecs and broad shoulders which tapered down to slim waist and hips. He had large, brawny thighs and really long legs. She looked up again to find him smiling at her and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment at being caught out giving him the once-over. He gave her a wink, and he reached over taking her hands into his.
Brooke felt warmth radiate up her arm, over her chest, and straight down to her pussy. She drew in a deep breath when her pussy clenched and leaked juices onto her panties. Coulter helped her into a sitting position, and it was only as the quilt fell away from her chest that she realized she was clad in just her bra and panties. She let go of his hand and pulled the quilt up to cover her breasts.
“We had to get you out of those damp clothes, baby. You were suffering from hypothermia. Let me help you shower and dress and then you can have something to eat.”
“I can shower by myself. I don’t need any help,” Brooke replied and cursed the breathless tone she heard coming from her own mouth.
“Be my guest,” Coulter replied and stepped back from her.
Brooke swung her legs over the side of the bed and ignored the dizziness which assailed her. She clutched the quilt and rose to her feet, making sure to keep her half-naked body covered. Her eyesight diminished, and she felt herself swaying. Her legs were shaking beneath her, and she blindly reached out as her knees threatened to buckle. She gasped as an arm wrapped around her and the quilt and then she was swept from her feet and carried across the room into the adjoining bathroom.
“You’re going to feel weak for a few days, baby. You’re half starved and still feeling the effects of having slight hypothermia. Our medic’s been giving you fluids, but you’re going to have to take it easy for a while,” Coulter stated. He sat down on the rim of the bathtub, holding her on his lap, and turned on the faucets.
Brooke felt the heat emanating from his big body and wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and snuggle into him. She had been so cold for so long, and she never wanted to feel that frozen again.
“How did you find us?” Brooke asked, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.
“There was an attempt to abduct another woman. She was lucky she was able to escape, and she got a look at the license plate. The police ran a check on the van, and the rest is history.”
Not exactly, she thought. She still had plenty of questions about this supposed elite force of his. “Where are we now?” she asked.
“The Dragon Stud Farm.”
“What?”
Coulter answered with a brief, dazzling smile. “It’s a horse-breeding farm.”
Horses? Dragons?
She thought she’d blacked out from cold and exhaustion. Had she whacked her head, too?
Coulter, chuckling gently, relieved her of her confusion. “We’re back in the States. North Dakota, between Langdon and Belcourt. The middle of nowhere, to be exact, but it serves our purposes. The farm is a façade. It keeps the locals from asking too many questions. But we—that is, the Elite Dragons—do actually work the stud and breed the horses. We have hands to help when we’re on assignment, and those hands are mighty well paid to keep their mouths shut.”
“You just blew your cover with me,” she pointed out.
He paused before he replied, “Maybe I don’t mind.”
For some reason, his cryptic tone didn’t bother her. She found herself relaxing more with every explanation. “So you Elite Dragons aren’t police?”
“No. We are a group of Special Forces operatives. The police in Bismarck couldn’t come for you as you were over the border in Canada. We have a carte blanche from both governments to stop the men who took you,” Coulter replied. “It looks like the tub is full.”
Before she could register the change in subject,
Brooke felt his arm move, and then her bra clasp snapped open. She gasped as she tried to hold the cups to her breasts.
“There is no need to be embarrassed with me, Brooke. You can’t do this by yourself, and anyway, I’ve seen plenty of naked women in my life.”
She didn’t doubt that he had, but Brooke, for her part, hadn’t been seen naked by a man before, especially not a god of a man like Coulter. The thought should have made her uncomfortable, but it felt so good to be held by him. It felt safe.
Plus, he was right that she didn’t have the energy to do this by herself. Her cheeks heated, but she removed her hands from the bra and pulled it off. She looked up at him to see if he was ogling her, but to her relief he kept his eyes on hers. His hands were at her waist, and he slipped them down to the band of her panties. Brooke looped her arms around his shoulders, lifting her hips so that he could draw her panties down her legs. He placed her in the now-full tub without standing, showing her his impressive strength. He didn’t even have to strain to move her. He reached over and turned the faucets off.
She sighed as warm water enveloped her body, and she relished the sensation. She hadn’t been clean for so long. She wanted to scrub her skin from head to toes and back again. Coulter reached up behind her, and picked up a jug. He filled it with water and placed an arm at her back and scooted her forward in the bath. He tipped the water over her head. Once her hair was wet he lathered it up with shampoo and rinsed it clean. She saw a sponge on the edge of the tub and picked it up. Coulter took it from her.
“Let me do it, baby,” he stated and helped her move again so she was leaning against the top of the bath. He squirted some liquid soap on the sponge and began to wash her.
Brooke wanted to argue. She wasn’t so weak she couldn’t hold a sponge, but the feel of Coulter’s touch stripped away her protests. She sat still and kept her gaze on his. He didn’t look away from her eyes once, and she was thankful he wasn’t leering at her nakedness.
“I’m going to need some help to get you dry and dressed. You can’t stand up on your own and I can’t hold you and dry you at the same time. Will you let me call my brothers in to help?” Coulter asked once he had finished washing her.
Brooke nibbled on her bottom lip. She always did that when she was nervous, and now was no exception. She hated that she was so lethargic, but was grateful to Coulter for asking her without just taking over and demanding. She could tell by his face and body language that he was a very dominant man. He was used to taking control, but he had made an exception for her. She gave a slight nod in answer to his question.
“Trace, Corbin, I need some help,” Coulter yelled.
Brooke didn’t hear them coming. They moved like great jungle cats, silently. Two men entered the large bathroom, and their eyes zeroed in on her.
“Hey, Brooke, I’m Trace and this is Corbin. How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Brooke rasped. She let her gaze wander over the two hot men. God, they were all so muscular and handsome. Trace stood at around six foot three and had brown hair and hazel eyes. His shoulders were broader than Coulter’s, and he was just as brawny as his brother, if not slightly more. He had a smooth jaw, and as he smiled at her she could see dimples beside his mouth.
She looked over at Corbin and took in his handsome features. He had black hair and green eyes. He was packed full of muscle and was so wide in the shoulders they nearly touched the sides of the door. He stood at around six foot five and seemed to have a permanent twinkle of mischievousness in his eye. He had a square jaw and a dent in the middle of his chin.
“Hi, darlin’, nice to meet you,” Corbin said.
Brooke couldn’t find any words. She was too caught up with the three handsome men looking at her. She gasped and clutched at Coulter’s forearms as he lifted her from the bath.
“Brooke’s too weak to stand on her own. I’ll hold her while you two dry her off and help her dress,” Coulter stated.
Brooke felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. She stood on wobbly legs while Coulter held her from behind and the other two men dried her hair and body. Corbin wrapped her damp hair in a towel and then reached for the clothes sitting on the vanity. They didn’t have any underwear for her, so they pulled the sweats up her legs and the sweater over her head. She threaded her arms into the sleeves and sighed with relief at being covered again. Trace pulled the drawstring on the pants as tight as they would go, but they were still very loose. Corbin reached for her arms and rolled both sleeves up, and Trace did the same to the legs.
“Can one of you get Mom or May to prepare Brooke a light meal while I dry her hair?” Coulter asked.
“Sure thing,” Trace replied.
“No problem,” Corbin answered.
Brooke saw them leave the bathroom, and Coulter placed her on the vanity. She sat still and relished getting her hair dried and brushed. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done anything for her and savored the bristles of a brush running across her scalp and through her hair.
“How old are you, Brooke?”
“Twenty-five.”
“You don’t look much over eighteen,” Coulter stated.
Brooke shrugged, not knowing if she was supposed to answer.
“Why didn’t your family report you missing?” Coulter asked.