One afternoon in Robert's barn, Celia got her first taste of erotic passion with him.and Freddie.and Patrick. But "nice" girls don't give their body to even one man outside of marriage, much less three, no matter how brawny and deliciously masculine they are. And no matter how much they love you. The abundance of eroticism frightened her away and she attempted to live a quiet life, acceptable to her mother and to society, if not exciting or true to her own heart.
No sooner had she done so, however, than the war took all the young men from the village, including her acceptable fiancé. Two years of loneliness make Celia realize how much she needs and loves the three men she once ran from and vows that if life gives her a second chance, she'll take it. When her prayers are answered and Robert, Patrick and Freddie return, each needing the love only she can give, Celia gives it, body and soul.
Publisher's Notes: This book contains sexual content that may be offensive to some readers: m/m/m/f ménage and has been previously published.
Chapter One
Ballykillmarrick, Ireland, 1913
As she’d done a thousand times in the past seven years, Celia lay back on the straw, enjoying the feel of Robert’s dark head resting on her stomach. She watched him leisurely twiddling a piece of straw between his teeth. Freddie and Patrick were on either side of her, their heads close to hers.
Yet somehow, this time, something was ... different. Her heart pumped harder than usual and her blood ran like liquid fire through her veins.
There seemed no better way to spend her nineteenth birthday than here in the abandoned barn of Robert’s family’s farm, staring up at the rafters, surrounded by her three best childhood friends.
Except that something was happening to her. The sensation of it was like falling. Only she was lying on her back.
She reached out and touched Robert’s dark hair. It was so soft under her fingertips.
“Mmm, Ceil, ye’ve an angel’s touch,” Robert murmured.
Celia’s breath caught softly. The feel of his hair under her fingertips resonated deep inside her, stirring deep vibrations between her thighs. She lifted her hand from Robert’s head as if he were on fire.
He seemed not to notice.
She glanced to either side of her. Patrick held his notebook, deep in the act of composing a new poem. All his poems were about her, she realized with a blinding flash. So blind she’d been all this time. His sandy brown hair invited her touch as well. She resisted.
And Freddie, to her other side, had just a few days ago described to her his ideal woman. She hadn’t registered what he was saying then, but the description of a slim willowy girl with pale freckled skin and waves of dark long hair had fit her to perfection.
None of the three lads, now in their twentieth years, seemed to be on the search for girlfriends, always content to be with her. Nor was she looking, either. She was never happier than she was with her three friends.
Friends! What were they then that they caused her to feel this way? These sensations ripped through her body, making her want each one of them in her arms, inside her, their lips against hers?
