That was how she felt sometimes, as though searching for an entrance into the hearts of two men who wanted her, but were determined to keep her from being a presence in their lives.

What had Raeg once told her? He'd join her and Falcon, if she wanted to give into his brother's seduction, for a night or two. But she wasn't the type of woman he'd ever give his heart to.

And how that had hurt.

It still hurt. She was certain she'd spent a week crying into her pillow whenever she was supposed to be sleeping. He'd stripped her bare with those words. And even though it had been years since he'd given her the warning, she'd never forgotten it. Just as she'd never forgotten Falcon's warning that he and Raeg did share their lovers, and that should one of them ever marry, then she could count on the fact that it would be both of them the wife would be sharing her bed with.

And she wasn't in the running for a wife. Raeg had made that one clear right from the get-go.

So what the hell was her problem?

She'd known him since she was sixteen, two years before he ever went to work for the senator, and they'd been fighting for just as long. He'd snipe at her and just get as mean as a feral cat. She'd scratch back, then they'd stay at each other's throats whenever possible.

Putting away the last of her clothes, she snagged a nightie and matching robe before heading to the shower. By the time she crawled into bed, she gave a weary sigh at the knowledge that life was about to get crazy again.

Tomorrow was just going to be hell, and there was no help for it. This was what she got for waiting a year to come home, and when she did return, bringing Falcon and Raeg with her. Hell, this was what she got for giving a damn if Falcon and Raeg were with her. If they meant nothing to her, then her daddy would just give them a few warnings about playing with his little girl's heart and leave it at that.

But her daddy knew her, just as her momma did, and they knew what Raeg or Falcon would never guess. They meant far more to her than just friends. Far more than she should have allowed them to mean to her. And if she wasn't very, very careful, she'd end up loving them.

She almost thought another bullet in her shoulder would be preferable. She was damned sure it wouldn't hurt near as long.

And it would destroy all her plans too.

She was tired of aching for two men she couldn't have, and she was tired to being so alone, of ignoring the dreams that had slowly grown inside her during the long nights she'd spent with no one to lie beside her.

The dream of returning to Georgia, of having a family of her own, babies of her own. If she was ever going to let go of the fantasy she knew she couldn't have, then she was going to have to start looking at what she could have. She could have a husband and babies. One husband would be far less complicated than two men sharing that role, now wouldn't they? And she could live with caring for a man instead of giving him all of her. She could make do with that, because she knew she couldn't have the two men she longed for. It wasn't settling for second best when there was absolutely no chance at first choice. Right?

Lifting the remote next to the bed, Summer turned on the television and sat crossed-legged on the bed with her brush. As the late-night world-events anchor discussed yet another DC scandal, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and began brushing the heavy mass.

If she tried to sleep without braiding her hair, she'd probably be strangled in her sleep.

Just as she began brushing, she was surprised by a low knock on the door a second before it swung slowly open.

Falcon had showered as well. His hair was still damp, the elastic band of the loose, gray pants he wore rested low on his hips, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

But he was carrying a brush identical to the one in her hand.

Without speaking, he strode to the side of the bed as Summer scooted to the middle of the mattress and sat cross-legged while he settled in behind her. A heartbeat later, pleasure began singing through her body. The stroke of the brush through her hair, the caressing tug against her scalp, and the rhythmic, steady movements erased every tension, fear, and wariness.

She'd always found this incredibly sensual. Falcon brushed her hair with an enjoyment that always surprised her, but never failed to please her.

He was one of the reasons she refused to cut her hair, not some vain pleasure she found in it. Falcon seemed to love it. The very mention of cutting her hair was enough to have panic gleaming in his pale blue eyes.

"Had you actually cut this beautiful hair, I believe I might have spanked you with your own brush," he sighed, causing a smile to tug at her lips.

She actually believed him too.

"You should have known better," she murmured as he laid the brush aside and began to slowly pull her long strands into an intricate braid that he left loose enough that it wouldn't leave her head aching from the pressure, but would keep the long strands from tangling or from strangling her.

"You owe me for making me believe you had done something so cruel to me as to cut this beautiful hair." The humor in his voice was always contagious.

And maybe he was right. She had known that if he had actually believed she had cut her hair, he would be furious. Maybe even hurt.

"Okay, I owe you," she agreed, the feel of his fingers working her hair, pulling her into a drowsy, sensual haze.

As good as he was making her feel by just braiding her hair, she thought how good it would feel to be touched by him, to have his fingers stroking over her body, touching her. To be allowed to touch him.

"Hmm, what should I demand as payment?" he asked, his voice just a little rough, the dark sound a pleasure on its own.

"Whatever you want," she murmured, her senses drugged with the sensations.

She could feel him binding the end of the braid with the elastic band, and wanted to moan in regret. She wasn't ready for it to end. Not yet.

"I've missed this." His hands caressed her bare shoulders, the slightly calloused warmth of his palms sensitizing the nerve endings beneath her flesh. "Sitting with you, braiding your hair, feeling you against me."

He never stopped at just braiding her hair. Maybe that was why she had missed it herself. Falcon liked touching her, and she so loved the feel of his hands on her, stroking and caressing her.

"Raeg says you're addicted," she said, reminding him of the accusation Raeg had made the previous year.

"Such jealousy he harbors," he chuckled, the sound of it gentle, filled with the affection she knew he felt for her. "We feel sorry for him, don't we?"

"He would probably disagree with you." Her head lowered as his fingers began rubbing against the top of her spine, sending waves of exquisite pleasure rolling through her.

Oh yes, she had missed this. The calloused pads of his thumbs working the muscles beneath, firmly massaging her neck, draining the tension right out of her. It sent another type of tension invading her, but even that she looked forward to. Those sensations intensified the pleasure of his touch, heated her, and reaffirmed the fact that she was indeed a woman. A woman who ached for a touch denied her far too often.

"I bet he wouldn't," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her ear. "Raeg may fool you with his attitude, but he doesn't fool me, sweetheart. If he could be right here, right now, touching you like this, feeling you soft and sweet, he would be as addicted as I."

Her breath caught as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, pulling her deeper into the sensuality building inside her senses.

She was just weak enough, she thought hazily, just needy enough actually, to sit there like a crazy woman and let her body burn for him. She could feel her breasts swelling, her nipples becoming so sensitive, so needy for his touch as her sex melted and wept for touch as well, that there was no hiding her need for him.

"How is he fooling me then?" She bent her head to the side in an invitation for him to continue those little brushes of his lips a little lower.

"How does he keep you at arm's length?" It was the edge of his teeth that rasped against the sensitive skin of her neck rather than his lips, and the sensation had her fighting to hold back a moan.

"What are you up to, Falcon?" she sighed, aware of the slow, steady seduction of her senses and that he was touching her far differently than he normally did, allowing himself to go much further in his caresses.

"Besides seducing you?" The edge of amusement in his tone should have pissed her off; instead, she felt herself softening further against him.

It wasn't a good idea and she knew it. Both of them were approaching that point of no return, and she couldn't seem to make herself care.

"Get on with it then," she demanded on a sigh, knowing she had slipped far too deeply into the spell he was weaving around her senses.

A dark chuckle met the demand, and rather than doing as she suggested, he slid from the bed and stared down at her, his gaze filled with a carnal hunger that had her heart racing.

Yes, she was in too deep, but she suddenly wondered exactly how deep she was allowing herself to be drawn into this sensual web she could feel restraining her, holding back common sense or any desire to consider what she was about to do. And she was going to do it. She couldn't even consider denying the pleasure she could sense he'd give her.

Dark lashes lowered over pale blue eyes, the intense sexuality and dominance in his expression stole her breath for a moment. Normally veiled, the dominant, strong-willed man he usually kept hidden wasn't hiding anymore. He was right there, and the sight of it sent a wave of weakness rushing through her.

She'd been so long without a lover that she could barely remember what it felt like to be taken, to have her flesh penetrated and stretched with sensual pleasure. The dominance and lust in his expression assured her that once he took her though, she'd never forget what it felt like.

If Falcon took her, he'd do far more than simply part her responsive inner flesh. He'd make her burn, take her to a place no other lover ever had, and she knew it.

The muscles of her vagina clenched, rippling in a silent demand for the erotic pain she knew his possession would give her. It was something she'd never considered before, something she'd never ached for before. But the proof of his erection tenting those pants assured her that that was exactly what he was going to give her. He'd do far more than fill her, he'd give her an edge of pleasure she'd only suspected existed.

"Why tonight?" she asked, her fingers clenching in the blankets beneath her as his gaze went over her. "Why wait 'til now, Falcon?"

Why ambush her without warning? Why wait until they were in her home, in her bed, in a place where he'd haunt her for the rest of her life?

His gaze moved to her breasts, her heavier breathing rough, lifting her breasts against her gown and rasping her tender nipples against it. The quick, hard breaths had his expression turning positively carnal.

"I actually thought I'd just braid your hair," he replied, his voice deeper. "That I'd be satisfied with just touching you for a moment, then I could return to my own bed once again, just as I always have before."

She couldn't breathe. She had no idea how to handle Falcon like this. She'd never seen him like this. He wasn't teasing and subtly asking permission. He was confident, powerful and aroused, and he wasn't asking anymore.

"Why?" She could barely push the word past her lips.

He didn't even bother to try to hide the tenting of his pants as his cock pointed toward her, long and thick, holding her attention despite that inner voice screaming at her to run.

Oh yes, he was going to give her more than she'd ever had before and she wasn't certain how she'd survive once it was over, once he and Raeg left her life forever.

He was suddenly far more than she was certain she could handle, and not just physically.

"I dream of all that long, pretty hair," he told her. "Of holding it back and watching those pretty, pouty lips parting for my cock. That's why I braid it so loosely. That way, I'll be able to thread my fingers in it and show you how the slightest, firm little tugs against it could increase your pleasure if I ever managed to convince you to let me fuck those pretty lips."

Lust slammed into her senses, not simply arousal. Pure. White hot. It struck her womb with a force that stole her breath.

"I love brushing your hair because the feel of it is a memory I can pull up as I jack off thinking about it." His voice was hoarse now, guttural. The sound combined with the explicit words drugged her senses so fast, so deep, she was dazed. "Imagining the feel of your lips, your hot little mouth wrapped around the head of my cock, moaning and sucking me, your face dazed with the hunger to taste me."

Her breathing was harsh now, labored, as she slid to the edge of the bed and reached out, pulling at the elastic band of his pants and easing them over the hard shaft before Falcon discarded them completely. After stepping from the pants he wrapped the fingers of one hand around the base of the broad shaft, tightening on it as a drop of creamy moisture eased past the tiny slit on top the crest.

The dark, flared head pulsed. Thick, ropey veins throbbed along the shaft, and Summer knew the fight was over. She'd lost the battle to keep her heart from being shattered, if they survived Dragovich.

"Take the gown off," he demanded.

It wasn't a request, and acknowledging that had her reacting instinctively. Lifting herself enough to pull the material over her hips, she gripped the hem and pulled it over her head before dropping it to the floor next to the bed.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, lashes shielding his eyes though his breathing was deeper now, heavier.

"Lie back across the bed, Belle." The demand was softly voiced.

Demand, or request? She couldn't differentiate, but the sound of it had her fighting back a whimper, fighting just to breathe as she moved to the center and stretched across it, pulling the braid out of the way instinctively.

"No fight?" he asked, his knee pressing into the bed as he lifted himself to her, coming down beside her.

"Do you want me to fight?" She watched warily as he gripped her wrists and pulled them over her head, staring down at her breasts as he did so.

"I want you to let me give you exactly what I know you need." His head lowered, his lips brushing over hers, their gazes locking.

His hand tightened at her hip, the other slid into loosely weaved strands of hair, gripping them with erotic pressure. The wicked tug and subtle restraint had her stilling, shock surging through her as some inner core of feminine submission sent a wave of pure bliss shuddering through her senses.

The contradictory, completely unfamiliar sensations left her reeling, uncertain whether to orgasm or panic, and as she stared back at Falcon, she knew, knew, somehow, that she'd given him exactly what he'd wanted, but hadn't been certain he'd find.

She wasn't entirely certain that was a good thing.

There it was.

The steel core of sexual dominance Falcon had always hid from her rushed forward when she stilled beneath him and those violet eyes darkened, flaring with the unconscious sexual submission that only a strong, otherwise dominant woman could possess when beneath a lover she sensed could harness and control all that wild hunger inside her.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea." Panic, it was there in her eyes, in her voice.

"Should we continue to play games instead?" he asked, tugging at her hair once again. "Go back to pretending we are not dying for exactly what burns between us at this moment?"

Sweet Summer.

Confusion filled her pretty eyes. She did not even know what she wanted so desperately, why no other man had ever given her what she'd known he and Raeg could give her. And it was exactly what he needed himself to sate the greedy lust that always rose whenever he was around her.

If he gave her time to think about this first, then her fears would pull her back. And that he simply could not allow.

Before she could make another protest, his lips covered hers. Slanting over the soft curves, Falcon took the taste of her with greedy hunger as her arms wrapped around his neck, her body arching to him.

Catching her wrists, he drew them over her head, holding them with one hand and cursing his brother's stubbornness. Had Raeg been there he would have restrained her, held her arms above her head and helped Falcon to give her a pleasure she could only know with both of them. A pleasure he couldn't give her alone.

It would take both of them to fully sate this woman's hungers. He had always known this.

She arched against him, moaning into his kiss, her tongue dueling against his, challenging for control. Taking her alone would be more pleasure than he'd known in his life. But how much better could it be?

Pulling back, he stared down at her, taking in her flushed features, her passion-drugged gaze, the arch of her swollen, flushed breasts and cherry red nipples.

"Do you wish he was here as well?" he asked, grimacing in hunger at the thought as he cupped the silken weight of her breast. "That both of us touched you?"

For a moment something so hungry and tormented flashed in her gaze before it was gone.

"Does it matter?" she whispered, her voice filled with need. "He's not here."

Her nipples darkened, became harder at the thought of it though.

"If he was," he told her, "we would hold you between us and both sweet nipples would know the hunger we have for them."

His head lowered, his lips covering one hard peak, teeth raking it, then his lips closing on it as he sucked the tempting morsel into his mouth.

The low strangled cry was not quite enough to draw Raeg's attention. But it would be, Falcon swore. Very soon, it would be.

Keeping her arms stretched above her, he sucked, nibbled, teased her nipples. Suckling kisses were given to the tight little buds, each caress drawing her deeper into the hunger building between them, loosening her restraint and her fears of being overheard.

Control was always the issue for Falcon when taking a woman alone, especially one he knew would begin instinctively fighting the need for pleasures she had never imagined hungering for. Restraining her kept her focused on her own pleasure rather than pleasuring him. She had no choice but to let her senses fill with each sensation.