Full Mountie

by Ainsley Booth

  I don’t bother begging him to go slow—I’m not sure I could talk, for one thing, and for another, he couldn’t go any slower.

  For all his dirty, torturous ways, he’s a crazy careful lover, especially with my ass.

  He holds himself just inside me as my muscles spasm around him, then he squeezes his hands into the fleshy curve of my hips and pushes all the way inside me.

  Beneath me, Lachlan groans. “Jesus, I can feel you fucking her.”

  “That’s the idea,” Hugh says, his voice cracking. “God, Beth. You’re so fucking tight.”

  Here is where I should tell him it’s because he’s so big. Big and hard. But all that comes out is more of those feeble, whimpering moans, because he’s inside my ass—and he is big, and hard—and feelings have replaced language in my brain.

  Like Lachlan did, he holds himself deep inside me, then eases almost all the way out.

  And Lachlan thrusts into my pussy.

  Mother of— “Ah!”

  He nails every sweet spot on the way in, and on the way out, Hugh’s filling me from behind.

  A disorientingly good push-pull slide of hard flesh against soft begins. Hugh, then Lachlan, and back again. Slow, sure pumps of their hips, driving their cocks into my body from two different places, but oh so close together.

  My skin feels hot and tight, my breasts heavy as they rub against Lachlan’s chest. Between my legs, my clit is hard, throbbing, and Lachlan’s making sure to rub against it, too.

  I want to do something, but all I can do is hang on tight as they plunge in and out of my body, filling me completely. Over and over again.

  And then Lachlan says, “Can we both fit inside her at the same time?”

  What the fuck do they think they’ve been doing? But Hugh understands, even if I don’t, and he holds himself inside me at the end of his next thrust.

  Lachlan tries to press into me, and it feels like he might actually be cleaving me in two—delightfully, orgasmically so, but still, tearing me apart. And he can’t get in.

  “Up you get, beautiful,” he whispers. “I need you up.”

  He presses my upper body off of his chest and passes me to Hugh, who wraps his arms around me, cupping my breasts in his hand.

  My vision swims as I gaze down at Lachlan. Big, rangy muscles. Hot, turned-on expression. And where our legs are tangled up, where I’m spread wide for him, his cock, wrapped in his fist.

  He wants to put that monster inside me, while Hugh is buried in my ass.

  “No…” I breathe.

  “Cupcake?” Hugh asks in my ear, and I shake my head. Not that kind of no. The good kind of no. The holy-fuck-are-you-fucking-sure kind of no.

  Behind me, Hugh flexes his body, driving his cock deeper into my ass and lifting my pussy so it’s more on display for Lachlan.

  “Look at how pretty you are,” Lachlan says, his voice kind of breathy too. “You can take us both, I know you can.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes…” He hisses as he rocks his cock against my clit, then lower, between my slick labia. “Oh, you’re so wet for me. So good. Ready?”

  I don’t bother to answer. Either it’s going to work or it’s not, and either way, I’m like ten seconds away from spontaneously combusting.

  This time he gets inside me, and it feels impossible, but he’s still pressing, still stretching my body around him. Making a permanent space for himself.

  Laying claim.

  My breath is shaky now, and spots dance at the edges of my vision. Another inch, and the thickest part of him will be inside my body, up against Hugh’s cock.

  “I’m going to…” I toss my head. “Yes, please. God, please.”

  “You’re doing it. Are you ready to come? We want to feel you fucking milk us at the same time,” Hugh growls. “I want to feel Lachlan spurt deep inside your pussy, you got that? Pull it out of him.”

  “Ah…” I swallow hard and flutter my hands towards my belly.

  Hugh pinches my nipples, tugging them.

  I press against my skin, my hands shaking. Yes, yes, that.

  Lachlan drifts his hands up my thighs as he pulses in the last inch, in tiny little movements. Not taking no for an answer.

  Claiming what’s his.

  When he’s fully seated inside me, his hands settle on my hips, his thumbs teasing the creases where my legs meet my pelvis.

  All I need is for them to move, just a little, and I think I’ll come.

  Behind me, Hugh pumps his hips.

  Below me, Lachlan grinds up as he shifts his hand over and rocks against my clit with his thumb.

  Between them, I close my eyes and scream as something deep inside snaps, something bright and explosive.

  Like a tripwire connected to a thousand tons of pleasure, overwhelming all my circuits. I shudder in Hugh’s arms, a spasm that triggers another and another, as they push and grind against me, stringing out my orgasm and triggering their own.

  When they slip out of me, it’s a weird shock, and my body feels permanently changed. Or maybe that’s just my heart.

  Hugh disappears to clean up first, then Lachlan rolls off the bed as our lover rejoins us.

  I don’t move a muscle because I’m dead.

  Hugh’s having none of that.

  “Time for pie,” he says breathlessly as he slaps my ass. “Then a shower before round two.”

  Round two of Kill Beth With Pleasure? And pie?

  I roll over and snag his hand, pulling him close. “You’re crazy,” I whisper, kissing his fingers. “And amazing.”

  He crouches beside the bed and brushes my hair off my face. His expression is hard to read, but my brain is too scattered to try and decipher weird boy feelings right now. “You enjoyed that?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I think he needed that, too.” He glances over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

  “He’s just—” I cut myself off as Lachlan returns. “Pie time?”

  I get two satisfied, hungry grins in response.

  But we’re definitely coming back to that conversation at some point this weekend.

  37

  Hugh

  I don’t fall asleep.

  I couldn’t even if I hadn’t already made the decision that I’m not staying.

  I’ve changed my flight. I did it earlier today, and even after what we’ve shared tonight, I don’t regret it.

  Well, that’s a fucking lie.

  I already regret it.

  But it’s what needs to be done, and I know it.

  I stroke Beth’s hair. Lachlan’s arm is wrapped around her, as it always is when we sleep together, and I rest my hand on his forearm next. I love his strength. The size of him. My big ox.

  Hers now.

  My gut churns and my heart slams against my chest as I slip silently out of our cabin. The gravel road will be too noisy for me to make a speedy departure, so I dash along the grass between the cabins and the river towards the cafe where my rental is parked.

  The first call comes shortly after I leave the resort. Lachlan’s ringtone. I ignore it as I turn onto the highway towards Vancouver.

  Moments later, I get a voicemail notification, followed immediately after by a text. Then comes Beth’s ringtone. It kills me hit reject—because I’m not rejecting her. But I’m in no headspace to handle a conversation with either of them. I just need to get home.

  I flip my phone to airplane mode. I’m off duty for a couple more days, so being unavailable for a few extra hours won’t affect the PM’s security.

  Traffic is pretty much non-existent this time of the morning, and I make it to the airport in under two hours.

  38

  Beth

  Lachlan’s not sleeping.

  Neither am I, though.

  Hugh’s missing, in more ways than one. There’s a two-hundred-pound hole on his side of the bed, and we slept through his decision to leave.

  He left a note with a single line on it.r />
  I need some space.

  He’s been gone for at least three hours. Lachlan tore out the door when we woke up and found the note, but it’s anyone’s guess where he headed, and he’s not replying to our text messages. After our first attempts to call him were ignored, he turned off his phone.

  So now we lie here.

  “Go to sleep,” I whisper against his back.

  He rolls over, spreading his arms wide, and I tuck in beside him. My heart aches, because I know Hugh didn’t head out into the night for some alone time.

  I replay the conversation Hugh and I had while dancing at the wedding. I should have picked up on it sooner.

  “I want to be up in case he comes back and needs to talk,” he says.

  “He’s not coming back,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

  “Don’t say that,” he says roughly. I bite my lip and he squeezes me tight. “Shit. Fuck.”

  Hot tears press against my eyelids and I burrow tighter. This is all my fault.

  “He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” There’s so much grit in Lachlan’s voice, it scrapes against my skin. He might not be able to cry, but I can. I’ll cry for both of us.

  My phone wakes me up a few hours later, and I scramble for it, heart pounding because in my sleep-deprived state, I think it might be Hugh texting back.

  It’s just my alarm, telling me to take my pill.

  I roll out of bed and go to my bag. I press my thumb against the bubble pack and pop the little pill out. Four days until my period arrives. I’d been so stoked about the perfect timing, that I wouldn’t need to take two packs back-to-back to make sure sexy times could continue unaffected.

  Turns out I only had the one night to worry about.

  I tuck the pack away and drag myself into the bathroom for some water.

  The giant claw foot tub calls to me, so I nudge the door shut so as not to wake Lachlan, and turn on the water. I take my pill, then dump some shampoo under the tap.

  Emergency bubble bath.

  It’ll do.

  A quiet knock on the door tells me I did a shit job of not waking up Lachlan. “Come in.”

  He pokes his head around the door. “Morning.”

  He looks as miserable as I feel. “Want to take a bubble bath with me?”

  “How about I make coffee instead?”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  He comes back ten minutes later with a tray of food and a wooden stand to put it on, and we eat breakfast like that, me in the tub, him leaning back against the sink, sipping his coffee.

  “I could get someone to run a search on his credit cards,” he finally mutters.

  Yes, do that, I want to say. Track him down and we’ll go toss a net over his sorry ass and drag him back here so we can tell him we love him. Instead I sink lower in the tub and blow a raspberry at a pile of bubbles near my mouth.

  “Probably a bad idea, career wise.”

  I nod. Probably.

  “I saw some board games,” he offers next. “On the bookshelves.”

  So after my breakfast-in-the-bath, we play Scrabble, and it’s fine.

  So is the cuddle we have in the window seat. Fine.

  And the nap that follows, because we’re exhausted. That’s perfectly adequate. I love Lachlan, and he’s being careful and attentive, but this isn’t how we were supposed to be spending these few days together.

  We’re missing our third, and it fucking hurts.

  By mid-day, I’m pissed off at Hugh.

  And since he’s not here, I’m kind of grumpy with Lachlan, too, which so isn’t fair.

  So I grab Hugh’s note, which we haven’t really touched again, and I scrawl across it, We’ve gone for a hike because you’re dumb. Love you. Stay put if you come back. And I hand it to Lachlan, who laughs for the first time all day.

  He nods. “Okay, let’s get outside.”

  And hopefully, out of our heads a bit, too.

  I thought we’d just go for a quick walk, but Lachlan packs a bag with water and snacks, and goes over a hiking trail map left by the cabin rental people.

  He’s taking my hike statement seriously. I packed running shoes, but I don’t have a pair of long pants, and I tell him that.

  “We’ll keep it easy,” he promises.

  Famous last words.

  We head out the back of the cabin, cutting across long grass towards a rail bridge that’s marked as safe for crossing. The sun is bright today, and it’s nicely warm as we cross the bridge, the river rushing beneath us. We stop on the other side and Lachlan points out the path he’s picked for us. Ahead about a kilometre, to a rise that’s marked on the hiking map, then back again. Easy.

  Except then he says, “And of course, we’ll be bear aware.”

  I freeze. “Pardon?”

  He waves ahead of us. “Solid chance of seeing a black bear out here. There's lots of food around this time of year, so they won’t do us any harm. We just don't want to surprise them, or get between mama and cubs.”

  Uh huh. I glance back in the direction of the cabin.

  “Hey,” he says softly, weaving his fingers through mine and tugging me close. “You wanted to get out of there. The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day. Let’s do this.”

  “With bears.”

  “With me. And we’ll sing to keep the bears away.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’m the most boring, responsible person you’ve ever met. Would I let anything happen to you?”

  I shake my head. No, he wouldn’t. “Okay.”

  He brushes his lips against mine, softly at first, but the spark is there—like always, although it takes us both by surprise right now. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue against mine.

  He turns my sadness into something else. Anticipation. I chase him for another kiss, and when we finish, he picks me up and spins me around. “We just have to be loud. That’s all. We’re sharing their space with them, it’s only fair to give them a heads up that we’re coming.”

  We head off, singing camp songs at first, then just talking. We play a couple of rounds of twenty questions, too. It’s easy to make noise with him, it turns out, and before I know it we’re nearly back at the rail bridge again.

  We can see it just ahead, but Lachlan holds up his hand for me to stop as we cross under hydro lines. Their path is carved out of the woods, and the clearing to our left is a meandering hill down to the river.

  “You want to go down there and check it out?” he asks.

  Heck yeah.

  He reminds me to go slow over the uneven ground, and it takes us half an hour to pick our way down to the rushing water.

  It was totally worth the detour.

  “Wow,” I say as we come to a stop at the river’s edge. The river bed is wider than the actual flow of water right now. It must get wider and deeper in the winter and spring. Right now we can walk a ways across rocks and logs before we reach the crystal clear water.

  I kneel and dangle my fingers in it. It’s cool, but not as cold as I expected. I stand and glance across the river. Then I look back at Lachlan.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, but his smile tells me he has a good idea.

  And it is a good idea, too. “Is it safe to cross?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Should be.”

  “Shoes off or on?” I narrow my eyes at the water ahead of us. Lots of rocks. Some sand and logs, but…

  Lachlan makes the call easy. “Shoes on. Easier to climb the bank on the other side.”

  “Fair enough.” I take a deep breath, and step into the water. Oh, God. That’s colder on my ankle than it was on my fingertips.

  I take another two steps, then I can get out of the water and onto a dry log. Then another, and pretty soon I’m in the middle of the river, Lachlan right behind me.

  I laugh and hoot, throwing my hands in the air. This is amazing.

  This is what I needed today.

  We’re almost at the other side of the river, the cabin sid
e, when Lachlan taps my arm.

  “Don’t freak out,” he says quietly. “But there’s a bear on the other side of the river, about a hundred metres away.”

  I freeze.

  “Keep going,” he prods. “We’re almost there.”

  Bear. Bear. Bear.

  “Beth!”

  I squeak and force my legs forward, splashing a bit. My pulse is going a mile a minute, and if I have a heart attack in the middle of this river, that will ruin the whole this-day-is-getting-better thing I was rocking a few minutes earlier.

  “We’re good, don’t worry, keep moving.” His voice is even and steady in my ear, and when we step out of the water, he takes my shoulders and forces me to turn around. “See?”

  Bear. Bear. Bear.

  I gasp at the black furry butt ambling back into the woods on the opposite side.

  Bear.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  “I shared a river with a bear…”

  “You did.” He strokes a finger along my cheek, then kisses my nose. “Want to go make some celebratory dinner together?”

  “Steaks?”

  “You know it.”

  39

  Lachlan

  There are only two steaks.

  Motherfucker.

  I stare at the trays of meat Hugh bought, and had already stashed in the fridge before we arrived yesterday.

  Two steaks.

  Two giant chicken breasts.

  A single tray of brats, when I know if he was planning on eating them, there’d be a second tray, too.

  He wasn’t planning on sticking around.

  At some point, he decided to ditch us here. A slow, angry burn crawls up my neck.

  He took my God damned shopping list and used it to set us up in a love nest. Then he dirtied it up but good before skipping out.

  Why in hell wouldn’t he know that we’d fucking miss him when he did that?

  “What is it?” Beth asks.

  I jerk my attention to where she’s sitting in the living room. She’d been reading a book, but now she’s staring at me.