by E M Lindsey
Spencer moved between Collin’s legs. He slid his hands up the tops of Collin’s thighs and leaned close. He let himself enjoy how solid and strong Collin felt to the touch. He was large all over, imposing. Spencer took notice of the dark hair curling up out of the top of the shirt Collin wore. Collin could snap him in half, Spencer thought. There wasn’t much to him, but Collin had only used his hands in kind and gentle ways.
Spencer kissed him then. He slid his hands into Collin’s hair and sank into it. Collin quickly took over, thrusting his tongue into Spencer’s mouth. His hand came up and wrapped around the back of Spencer’s head, making sure he wouldn’t go anywhere. His other arm tugged at the blanket Spencer wore until it was free.
Max kissed the back of Spencer’s neck, his hands roaming down his body, and Spencer nearly lost his mind. He’d never imagined two people wanting him the way Max and Collin seemed to. And that’s what made it all too easy for Spencer to grab the waist of Collin’s sweats and give them a tug.
Collin lifted his ass, allowing Spencer to pull the garment down. His cock, already hard and not confined by briefs, sprang free. The tip glistened with a bead of precum and Spencer leaned down. He flicked his tongue over the head of Collin’s cock and a long, broken-sounding moan was drowned out by a new wave of torrential rain.
Collin’s hand sank into Spencer’s hair and he took that as a signal to keep going. He licked a trail down the side of Collin’s cock and was joined by another mouth. Max’s face was close to Spencer’s and they worked Collin together. They pulled sounds from him that were desperate and guttural, but also soft and needy.
Spencer dipped lower, letting his mouth wander over Collin’s balls, giving Max room up top to take Collin into his mouth and suck him deep.
“I’m close.” Collin’s voice was hoarse now and Spencer rose up. Max was teasing the head with his tongue and Spencer wanted that, too. He wanted to be there, to taste Collin when he erupted. He smoothed his tongue up the side of Collin’s shaft and flicked it against the head.
“Bloody hell.” Collin bucked and cum shot out of the head of his cock. Max and Spencer took turns licking and sucking at the creamy liquid as it spilled out and down Collin’s cock. Then, somehow, they were kissing. Collin’s spent cock twitched between their lips and tongues until he pulled his oversensitive cock away, leaving them breathless.
Collin leaned forward and tilted Spencer’s chin with a finger, drawing him into a kiss that was softer and slower than Spencer could’ve imagined a kiss ever being. Collin kissed him as though it was the only thing he was interested in doing ever again, and he watched him kiss Max with that same calm dedication.
Spencer shivered. Now that the moment had passed, he really was cold, he realized. “Shit, I’m freezing. I need to go put some clothes on.” Spencer rose to his feet taking the blanket with him. He wrapped it around his frame and padded down the hallway to Collin’s room.
Spencer pulled the clothes on that he’d borrowed from Collin the night before, then glanced at the state of the room. He was by no means a neat freak, but it seemed disrespectful to leave everything so upside down when Collin had gone out of his way to protect them and make them comfortable.
He tidied the bed first, smoothing the sheets and straightening the covers, then picked Collin’s clothes up off the floor and dropped them into the small hamper tucked away in the corner of the room.
Max’s jeans still sat in a damp lump and Spencer frowned. They’d never dry that way. He picked them up, intending to toss them over the shower rod until they dried, when something fell out of the pocket. Were it not for the fact that it hit his foot before it hit the plush carpet, he might not have noticed.
He bent to retrieve it, and when his fingers touched the cold metal, his heart cracked in half. He shouldn’t care. He barely knew Max, but the betrayal sank into his flesh. It pulled his guts out and stomped on them. Max was walking around with a wedding ring in his pocket. Out there, somewhere, was Mr. or Mrs. Max the Asshole.
And Spencer had been an idiot. Max didn’t want him, he just wanted a distraction. Spencer closed his hand around the ring and stormed out into the living room. Collin and Max were checking the bird over and trying to keep Robert away from it. He stood there for a minute and watched the scene and wondered how Max had fooled them so easily. How Max could have fooled them into believing he cared.
Spencer sniffled and Max and Collin turned their heads.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Max asked.
Spencer sneered at him. “The worst part of this whole thing was that I thought… I thought you actually fucking liked me. But maybe you just like fucking me.”
“I don’t understand.” Max said.
Spencer lifted his hand and tossed the ring at Max. “You’re fucking married?”
“Spencer. No, it’s not what it looks like.” Max said, hurrying to his feet.
“You should let him explain.” Collin said and it hit Spencer in the gut. Collin knew. His expression lacked any shock and another layer of betrayal stabbed into him.
Spencer didn’t want any of Max’s shitty excuses. He could wait out the storm in the barn away from both of them.
“Don’t. Just… don’t.” Spencer slipped into his boots without tying them and ran into the storm.
Chapter 21
Max has some explaining to do
The door to Collin’s cabin slammed open in Spencer’s wake, and Max looked at Collin, unsure of what to do.
“Shit.” Collin pulled his pants back up and scrambled off the couch, but Max was already out the door. He shoved his feet into a pair of Collin’s rain boots, ignoring the way his feet squelched around into the already wet rubber, and he bolted off the porch. It was storming still and dark, and Max had no fucking idea which way Spencer had gone.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Spencer!”
He didn’t receive a reply, but a flash of white fabric in his periphery caught his attention and Max jumped off the porch and ran to the right, hoping he’d seen Spencer just before he disappeared into the tree line.
It didn’t take long for him to catch up with Spencer, but Spencer wasn’t interested in being caught. He was interested in being Spencer, which involved getting tangled up in a branch and tripping over a log, landing face first in a mucky pile of leaves. Max swooped in and scooped him up, taking Spencer down to the ground and using his trembling hands to swipe the mud and leaves off Spencer’s face.
“Let me go,” Spencer begged, swatting at Max and trying to get out of his grasp.
“Will you let me explain first? Before you pass judgement?”
Spencer hit him in the chest, but there was no force behind it, only damp resignation.
“Fine,” he pouted.
“Can we go back to the cabin?” Max asked, shaking his head to get his wet hair off his face since his hands were otherwise occupied with Spencer.
“You can talk here.”
Max pulled a face, but Spencer seemed like he wasn’t going to change his mind. Max sighed and huffed out a rough breath.
“It’s not my wedding ring.”
The sharp clang the ring made as it bounced on the floor at his feet was a deafening echo in his memory. He dipped his chin until he managed to get Spencer to look at him and he repeated what he’d said.
“It’s not my wedding ring.” The admission burned. It could have been, maybe should have been, even if it had been meant for Trent, wouldn’t that have somehow made it theirs? “It was meant for someone else.”
“Nice try,” Spencer snapped. “It’s just the three of us here. No one just carries a wedding band around with them, especially when they’re going on a rafting trip.”
Max reached up and pushed Spencer’s wet hair back. It was pouring and they were both soaked to the bone, but there was no way Spencer was letting Max walk him back to the cabin until he was satisfied with the explanation Max had to offer him.
Which really was pretty ridiculous.
&n
bsp; Max didn’t owe this kid anything. He didn’t owe Collin anything.
Why did he even care if Spencer thought he was married? Whatever this disaster between them turned out to be...No, it wasn’t meant to be anything. Just a fuck and suck in the mountains while they waited for a way back to their lives. Max didn’t owe anyone an explanation about the fiery remains of what had been his love life, or rather, his entire life.
Even as the thought settled around him and calmed his thudding pulse, the words continued to pour out of his mouth.
“I was in a relationship. A long one,” he admitted.
“How long?” Spencer’s voice had lost some of the edge, but it was still sharp and biting.
“Six years.”
“When did it end?”
Max licked his lips.
“A week ago.”
Spencer worked his jaw from side to side, then took his lower lip into his mouth. Max would have sworn he could see the gears turning in Spencer’s head as he sat silent in Max’s lap.
“Was it his ring?” Spencer finally asked.
“Would have been.”
Spencer exhaled and tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowed together in an expression Max could only take as pity.
“Max,” Spencer started to say, but Max reached up and pressed the pads of his fingers against Spencer’s mouth.
“It’s fine.”
“You don’t need to explain more. I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t have….” Spencer looked around helplessly, like he was having the same thought process Max had just worked himself through. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I know, but I want you to have it.”
“Can we go back?” Spencer asked, the fire of his rage now extinguished by the storm. He tried to stand, but Max pulled him back down.
“We can talk here,” he parroted, throwing Spencer’s earlier snark back at him.
“There’s a storm.”
“I know,” Max agreed. “That’s what got us here in the first place, yeah?”
“I’ll catch pneumonia.”
“That’s not how it works.” Max pulled Spencer against his chest and wrapped his arms around the much smaller man, using his body to shield him from the brunt of the downpour.
“I feel like being trapped here by the storm is making us all go a little crazy,” Spencer mumbled, resting the side of his face against Max’s shoulder.
“Maybe.”
“Are you going to tell me about him?” Spencer asked. “You know you don’t need to. You don’t even know me.”
“You’re just someone I’ve had some fun with, then?” Max prompted. “We’re just making light of the situation we’ve found ourselves in?”
Even as he posed the question, the thought seemed disingenuous. That was what it should have been, but they all knew it was more than that, and even as Max had always known Collin and Spencer were better suited for each other than he was for either of them, Max found himself...wanting.
“Well. When you say it like that.” Spencer frowned and burrowed further into Max’s arms.
“I thought he’d want to marry me,” Max said, continuing the story. “I was going to propose to him on this trip, but he, uhm…”
Max frowned.
“What was his name?”
“Trent.”
Spencer chortled. “Trent the Twat.”
Max couldn’t stop the amused laugh that bubbled up from his throat. “He’s not a twat,” he corrected.
“Disagree.”
“Either way. The ring was meant to be his. I just...didn’t know what to do with it. I was thinking maybe I’d do something dramatic like chucking it over a waterfall or into the raging river.”
Spencer pulled away and looked up at Max, a look of judgmental amusement on his face, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That seems out of character for you.”
“Oh?” What would be in character for me, sweetheart?”
Spencer’s lashes fluttered.
“I don’t know. Something grumpy. Like, you’d melt it down into something...like...you’d melt it down into a puddle or something and then use it as a coaster.”
Max laughed and leaned in to kiss Spencer’s forehead. “Do I look like the kind of man who has coasters to you?”
“Don’t you?”
“Trent used coasters.”
Max paused, a relieved breath filling his lungs when he realized the memory didn’t hurt. Didn’t burn. Didn’t pick at his frayed edges and corners the way Trent always had.
“Twats use coasters.”
“Yeah,” Max agreed. “They do.”
“Jesus fuck.” Collin’s voice was like a cannon in the quiet of the storm, and his boots crunched through twigs and leaves as he approached them in a rush. “There you two are.”
Collin leaned down and managed to scoop them both up, sweeping them into a hug, Spencer’s body pressed between them tight.
Collin grabbed Max’s face and used his thumbs to wipe the rain from his cheeks, his eyes were wide and frantic, and he released Max to grab Spencer, giving him the same once over before going back to Max.
“You just took off!” Collin shouted. “In the bloody storm. You just took off.”
“Had to find this one.”
“And you!” Collin wrapped his fingers around Spencer’s shoulders. “Taking off in a robe and not much else. You’ll catch your death out here.”
“That’s not how it works,” Spencer murmured, and Max grinned.
“Bloody fucking hell. Come back to the house,” Collin ordered, turning them both and giving them a shove toward the cabin.
“I think we all need to have a talk,” Max said over the roar of the rain.
“Yeah,” Collin groused. “That sounds like an understatement.”
The three of them trudged back to the cabin, and Collin closed and latched the door behind them.
“Everyone strip,” he said, and Spencer dropped the ruined robe to the floor without a second thought.
Max toed off Collin’s boots and forced his soaking wet pants down to his ankles. Beside him, Collin stripped down, and then all three of them were naked in the living room.
Max’s stare trailed over the bodies of both men, cataloguing the differences between them. From Spencer’s soft, lithe limbs, to the coarse salt and pepper hair that covered Collin’s chest. Max rubbed his sternum and cleared his throat.
This was...this had to be the end of things.
“The rain stopped,” Spencer said, staring up at the ceiling.
Sure enough, the storm seemed to have stopped. Without the constant white noise of the rain, the three men were left in the stillness of a deafening silence.
“Into the bathroom.” Collin herded them through the room, past Robert and Dudley, who were curled up together on the armchair, and down the hall to the bathroom.
Collin pushed past them and turned the water as hot as it would go and pulled back the shower curtain.
“In,” he said roughly, and Spencer stepped under the warm spray without needing to be told twice.
“We can’t all fit in there,” Max said.
“I know. Now get in.”
Collin’s gruff command gave Max no room to disobey, and he found himself—and his thickening cock—joining Spencer in the shower.
Spencer plastered himself against the wall so Max could get warmed up. The hot water was everything he’d needed, and Max dropped his chin to his chest, letting the spray rinse the storm off of him.
The flip of a plastic lid snapped Max’s attention to the side, and he found Collin sitting on the closed toilet, a sponge and soap in hand. He reached into the shower and grabbed Max’s hand and stretched it, soaping him up to the armpit, then repeating the action on his other arm. Collin washed him dutifully, if not reverently, then did the same to Spencer, all the while staying outside of the water himself.
“Rinse. Both of you.”
Max and Spencer did a
s they were told, and let Collin silently wrap them in towels. Max couldn’t think of a time he’d ever been cared for this way, and he was surprised to find he liked it. He had the fleeting thought that Collin was someone he could rely on. But he squashed that idea quick, not willing to give it space to bloom into something that would hurt him in the end.
“Go sit on the couch.” Collin pointed toward the living room. “Keep each other warm. I’ll be there soon.”
Chapter 22
Collin makes some cheese toasties
He needed the moment away, just a second to take a breath after Spencer’s return. The moment he ran out, Collin could no longer deny this was more than a passing fling. At least, not for him. When Spencer rushed out into the raging storm, Collin knew finding him injured—or worse—would destroy him.
And then, as he should have known, Max had dashed out without regard and everything clicked into place. He wanted these two men, in ways he’d never wanted anyone. His passion for Grant had been a gentle simmer even in their wildest days, and it was nothing compared to the burning need he felt for Max and Spencer.
And that…that was not part of the plan. He was not meant to feel this way. They were too young, had too much life ahead of them. A man like him, who was ready to sell his parcel of land and fuck off to the middle of nowhere with a herd of goats, should not be tying two younger men down to a future like that. They could accomplish so much without someone like him weighing them down.
And yet, he’d be a fool to think he could step aside now.
It took him seconds to peel away his wet clothes, to scrub off with a dry towel, and dress. He did so with hurried motions, trembling fingers struggling with the elastic band on his sweats. The rain was over, the clock was ticking, and he needed to look them both in the eyes before he had a prayer of knowing what the hell he was supposed to do next.
His feet tapped on the floor, bare and still a little wet. There was a trail from the bathroom to the living room where he found the two men curled into each other near the fire. Max had stoked it up, the flames blazing, tendrils of soft warmth in the air curling around him as he got closer.
