by Dee Palmer
“You can’t know that’s me. You barely know me, Charge.” I hate the uncertainty in my voice, especially when he sounds so confident, seems so sure of everything.
“True, and I’m not going to rush you. You can take all the time in the world, but me, I’m going to trust my gut.” He flashes the most brilliant, heart-stopping smile, stealing the breath from my lungs, leaving me a little dazzled. He’s certainly an assault on all my senses.
Picking up my spoon, I absently stir the steaming hot soup, mulling over his words and the heartfelt sincerity. I don’t doubt he believes and means what he says, which is both flattering and scary as hell. I try to divert the heavy conversation, at least until I’ve been here for more than forty-eight hours.
Has it really only been that long? It has been longer in my head and my heart; in my mind it’s been three months of daily free and honest conversations with four of the most amazing men I’ve ever known.
“Tell me about the tattoo on your arm.” I point to the ink peeking out from his white-capped shirt, his bicep flexed in an impressive bulge of hard muscle under smooth skin. “You all have them, but I noticed they are slightly different.” He grins at my change of topic, but he humors me and answers.
“The anchor with USN is pretty self-explanatory, United States Navy, and the rope dangling from it with the four stars represents the four of us. This symbol underneath is fire.” He pulls the sleeve up on his right arm and twists so the whole tattoo is now visible. “When we were kids in juvie, we banded together and gave ourselves each an element. We needed something to make us feel like we were one, a unit, stronger together, you know?” I nod, though I don’t think he expects me to answer, and I’m too eager to learn to risk interrupting. “It felt like this was us against everyone else, against the world. And what is stronger than the four elements?” He shrugs and takes a big bite of his bread, chews slowly, swallows, then continues. “Might seem silly, but it helped, and when we were old enough, we all got inked together.”
“It isn’t silly to want to belong. It’s nice that you found each other.” He gives a tentative smile and rolls his cuff back down, the bottom of the three curved flames peek out, the middle part of the flame is like a spiral. I notice that regardless of which element, the spiral pattern is common in each of the tattoos.
“So what would that make me?” I ask, and his brows shoot up, and a deep frown furrows his forehead. “I don’t think there’s a fifth element, other than the film.” I snort out a little laugh, and he grins. Stiffening, I drop my spoon and then scramble off the bed. I tug the sheet from the bed as I move across the room, keeping it tight around myself to cover my body as I rummage through my drawers. I pull what I was looking for free from the cubicle and hold it up against me with a triumphant smile. My T-shirt with the letters Ah in an element square from the periodic table, and the words underneath printed ‘The element of Surprise’. Charge barks out a laugh and continues to laugh when he stands and walks over to me. His immense frame covers and cloaks my body as he holds me carefully, but close enough I can feel the strong and steady thump of his heart; it’s a great sound and I love the comfort it brings me.
“See, my gut is never wrong.” He kisses my hair, and I melt.
THE FIRST WEEK DIDN’T GO to plan, since my spots took ages to fade. and while I felt fine, I was still reluctant to venture out into the big, wide world. It wasn’t a huge problem considering Charge had the week off work. So I spent most of days with him either reading the folder or exploring the countryside. I helped him cook, and when the others came back from work, I split my time with them, though it was fluid, not forced. Pink would take me up to the stables and teach me the basics; not that shovelling shit needed a degree, but grooming and handling the horses wasn’t particularly intuitive to this city girl. Toxic liked the outdoors; he kept the garden smart, and the woodpile fully loaded, but also liked to play pool and was happy to teach me when we were together. Tug is quieter when it’s just the two of us, and he’s most relaxed while holding me in his lap as we watch old films.
I still wasn’t able to sleep on my own, and, because Charge didn’t seem to sleep at all, he would lie with me, stroking my hair and back until I drifted off. Most mornings I woke to an empty bed, but I wasn’t sure if he left during the night or was just an earlier riser. One night we all stayed in my bedroom, chatting until the wee hours, and I woke up to a human Jenga constructed of all four men, fully clothed and fast asleep.
This is like the best vacation ever! A hedonist’s wildest fantasy come true.
I spoke to Hope during the week, but I wasn’t comfortable giving her salacious details. I know she’s eager, but I feel it cheapens what’s going on and what we have, which, although it is off-the-charts sexy as all hell, it’s also pure and beautiful.
I haven’t had my date with Toxic or Tug, because I haven’t been a hundred percent, and although they all continue to care for me, and are attentive, affectionate, and playful, I haven’t had sex since I was with Pink at the lake, and I haven’t come since I was with Charge.
I’m surrounded by perfect alphas, inside and out, assaulted every waking minute by a tsunami of testosterone, hot sexy bodies, sweet affection, and the constant touching. Oh, my lord, the constant touching! It’s the understatement of the year that I’m a little relieved when the last spot finally fades. I’m literally panting.
My full recovery is declared halfway through the second week, and Tug and Toxic decide they want to share a date. I get all shivery thinking what that might entail, but whatever happens I’m more than ready. Did I mention panting?
I had strict instructions to have an early night because it was going to be a full day. I also agreed to join them on their morning run. I have used their gym on occasion, but I prefer swimming or just walking around the farm for exercise. It will be nice to get out, though, and they said something about training on the beach which, for a city girl, sounds amazing.
I wake with a start, my heart racing and my eyes wide, though I can’t see a damn thing; its pitch dark. There’s a noise outside my door and I panic with the ridiculous notion that we’re being burgled. The door opens and, of all the things, I pull the covers over my head. After a while there’s a hushed whisper I recognize.
“She’s sleeping?” Tug speaks softly.
“No point whispering, Tug. We’re here to wake her up.” Toxic booms and I pull the cover back to take a peek, my eyes squinting to adjust to the lack of light. Their shadows block the glow from the hallway, but even the soft light filtering past their collective body mass, is too bright, causing me to retreat back under the blanket and groan.
“We heard that. Come on, sugar. You said you wanted to train with us,” Toxic coaxes, his volume adjusted to indoor level.
“In the morning,” I grumble, my voice muffled by the comforter.
“It is morning.” Tug laughs and I feel the first pull of my cover, which I snatch back and clamp tight around my body. In a flash the comforter is gone, and I scream.
“What the hell, guys!”
“Oh! Someone’s not a morning person,” Tug jokes, and I scowl at him, but with the darkness I doubt he can see my fiery glare.
“It’s not morning!” I huff, pulling a pillow to cover my scantily clad body. “It’s still dark…that means it’s nighttime.”
“It’s 0400 hours, sugar, and that’s morning,” Toxic states flatly. “Come on, sunshine, up you get.” His voice softens as he tries to coax my cooperation. He attempts to pry the pillow from my vice-like grip. I growl, and he snatches his hand back like I have bitten him.
“Whoa! Now I know why Charge is always first up,” he teases.
Frowning, I say, “It’s the middle of the night, guys. You can’t be serious?” I resort to a childish whine. “Who gets up at this time to go running? Crazy people, that’s who?”
“Crazy people and Navy Seals. Now shift your…what do you call it?” Tug looks to Toxic for assistance.
“Arse.�
� Toxic makes an admirable attempt at a British accent and adds a great roll of the letter R, which makes me laugh. Tug takes the opportunity to lift me from the bed and wrestle the pillow from my grasp. I’m awake now, so there’s little point pretending otherwise.
“Did you pack a change of clothes?” Toxic looks around the bedroom.
“I packed what you told me to pack.” With that flat response and a huge exaggerated yawn, I point to my large yellow tote bag. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“You’ll be ready in five, or we’ll take you out naked.” My brows shoot up at his remark. Tug is fighting a grin, but Toxic looks deadly serious. I scuttle into my bathroom and in record time, I’m clean, dressed, and fully awake.
“Just so you know I hate you both right now,” I grumble and take my bag from Tug with an aggressive swipe. He chuckles.
“Ah, sugar, you couldn’t hate us if you tried.” He pulls an adorable full fat bottom-lipped pout.
“It’s four o’clock in the morning, and I’m not even going on holiday…trust me, I don’t have to try that hard right now.” I start to follow, and although I’m in a daze, I don’t mean to drag my feet. My body just doesn’t respond at this ungodly hour. I grunt as Tug hauls me over his shoulder and speeds along the corridor.
“Come on, slow poke, we’ll never get there in time, if you’re gonna’ do that snail pace.” He jogs down the stairs.
“Tug, I can walk!” I drop my bag to grab his sweatpants for stability. Hard arse muscle twists and flexes beneath my fists. Toxic scoops up my bag, chuckling at my futile, disgruntled indignation.
Tug drives the open-top jeep and I sit in the back with a thick blanket and Toxic’s strong arm wrapped around me. I’m sipping on a protein smoothie the guys insisted I drink but it’s the wrong temperature for my morning drink and is severally lacking in caffeine so I barely manage more than a few mouthfuls. The cool breeze dampens as we near the ocean, and the stars are just beginning to fade. The inky sky has the faintest bright light on the horizon, and any grumpiness I harbored dissolves as we pull up to the deserted beach and park. There’s a steady rumble of waves crashing in the distance, and although the sun hasn’t broken the surface of the earth yet, there’s enough light to see that this place is quite stunning.
Wild, sandy beach, as far as the eye can see; it stretches for miles in both directions. Uninhabited and desolate, it reminds me of a science fiction landscape and, certainly at this unearthly hour, it feels like we’re the only three people on the planet. Tug kills the engine, and Toxic leaps over the side and offers me a hand. I jump down and shiver; the breeze still holds the chill of the nighttime and without the blanket and his warm embrace, I’m freezing. I rub my arms vigorously and start to jog on the spot.
“Come on, sugar. Let’s get you warm.” Tug grins and for a moment I feel the trickle of heat between my legs at his possible meaning. But he simply holds my hand and starts leading me down the slight sand dune to the flattened sand of the shoreline. Jeez, get a grip, Finn, not everything has to have a sexual connotation. He pulls his sweater off exposing his bare chest with ripped and cut muscles, just like Toxic’s, though he has more hair. A dark spattering that gathers in a thick and heavy line down to his…for the love of God, Finn, stop it!
I shake my head lightly and feel my cheeks burn when my eyes meet his, and he glances over to Toxic with a telling smile.
“Right, what’s the plan?” I clap my hands together and rub, desperately trying to divert my wayward thoughts.
“The plan is we run.” Toxic kicks off at a slow lope, followed by Tug who is jogging backwards, tipping his head for me to follow.
“No warm-up stretches?” I call out but race to catch up. Even at a slow pace their long strides eat up the beach.
“This is the warm-up.” Tug chuckles, and both men fall on either side of me as we power along the shoreline. I’m not unfit, but there are levels of fitness and I’m nowhere near these guys’ stratospheric heights. Although running on sand—even compact sand—is really fucking hard on the pins.
The guys drop back as I start to fall behind, and I fight for a bit longer, but at the risk of my lungs exploding, I concede defeat and collapse on the sand. I suck in large, ungainly gulps of air and think perhaps I should’ve stopped about twenty minutes ago. I cough and splutter on my hands and knees.
Toxic and Tug both crouch down on their haunches, concern etched on their faces, and Tug offers me a bottle of water. I pull an apologetic smile and grab the drink.
“Steady. Don’t gulp, or you’ll get cramps.” Toxic strokes my back as I sit upright. I feel embarrassed, not that I couldn’t keep up, because frankly only an Olympian could, but that I didn’t listen to my body and stop when I felt the first real wave of exhaustion. At least then I would be gracefully bowing out, rather than collapsed into heap of dripping sweat and Lycra.
“I’m sorry,” I pant out, one word at a time.
“Hush, don’t be silly, sugar. We got carried away. Kinda’ liked having you alongside. It’s our fault, we knew you were getting tired. We just wanted to make it to the headland before the sunrise.” Tug flops down onto the sand on one side of me, and Toxic does the same on the other.
“But it’s just as pretty watching from here.” Toxic tips his head toward the horizon and I follow his gaze. Now, that’s worth waking up for.
“Wow!” My second understatement of the year, and both are on the same day.
The sunlight bursts so bright over the horizon, I have to shield my eyes with my hand. The glow quickly saturates the sky, and the rays illuminate the azure-blue sky. It’s spellbinding, breathtaking, and all those words that completely fail to capture this humbling sight. I start to lean but hesitate with which direction. I want to rest against one of them and soak up the wonderful dawn vista, but even that choice is too hard. How on earth am I supposed to choose among the four?
Tug lifts me into his lap, making that decision for me, and I sink back into his hold. My heart still struggles to regain a normal beat pattern, but his steady thump, thump is strong and comforting—a little like him. A few minutes pass, and Toxic stands, pulling me from Tug’s lap and lifting me high onto his hips. My legs automatically wrap around his body, and his gaze falls on my lips. Tug is at my back and I’m cocooned within a warm wall of muscle. Toxic’s lips brush mine, and my tongue dips out to taste him. His wolfish smile widens and he looks over my shoulder at his friend.
“We can’t, man. We might be the only ones on the beach right now, but not for long.” I can feel Tug shake his head. I sag and whimper, pent-up lust coursing through my veins, almost as rapidly as my frantic heart pumps my blood.
“We can,” I gush, my slut filter on mute. A tinge of shame flushes through my cheeks at my overt, wanton plea, but I push it aside. We all chose this and I have absolutely no reason to feel anything other than adored, desired, and wanted. Because that’s exactly how I feel when I’m with any one of these guys.
Oh, and horny as hell.
“Oh, sugar, we are definitely going to have to rain check until a little later. I don’t know about Tug, but I won’t be able to stop if we start something now, and this beach is the closest one to the largest military base on the West Coast. There’s likely to be a hundred soldiers running this shoreline soon, and I, for one, ain’t about to let anyone see our girl in action.” His tone drops low, and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my body. His playful tone has vanished, along with my libido.
“Oh, God, when you put it like that, no!” I stiffen, and the horror in my voice makes them both laugh.
“Relax, sugar. We might share with each other, but we don’t have any intention of letting anyone else have even a peek at our little piece of heaven.” He squeezes my bottom, and they both crowd me protectively so I’m fully enclosed and closeted.
“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Toxic echoes Tug’s sentiment.
“Oh, good,” I squeak out on a relieved breath of air. I trust them al
l, but we are still very much in the early stages of exploring each other’s boundaries.
“But back home, sugar, all bets are off.” Toxic grins, and Tug gives an audible, “Hell, yeah,” before stepping back, letting me find my feet back on the soft sand. My legs wobble because my muscles are the consistency of jelly after my overexertion. Grabbing Tug’s wide bicep to prevent myself from hitting the deck, I’m grateful when his arm secures my weight against his body.
“Okay, sugar, looks like we’re carrying you back,” he chuckles.
“You can’t!” I cry out in protest, worry about my weight and the distance prompting my outburst.
“Sure we can.” He scoops me into his arms and starts jogging back the way we came. Strong strides quickly consume the distance back to the jeep, the pace much faster than the one I had tried to keep up with, and yet, he moves like I weigh no more than the bottle of water in Toxic’s hand. Part way back they break stride just to switch who’s carrying me, but not because Tug is tired, but because Toxic feels left out. I manage to protest and make a case to run the last quarter mile, but I collapse when I reach the jeep.
“Need coffee,” I gasp.
“Jump in, sugar. We know just the place. Breakfast time!” Tug climbs in the front seat and starts the engine.
“My legs won’t move,” I groan, dropping my head to my knees. Before I take another much-needed gasp of oxygen, I’m lifted high and carried into the back of the jeep. The sun warming the sea breeze, we pull away from the desolate beach and head off, back towards civilization, pancakes, and java beans.
FIST BUMPING CHARGE AND PINK, I slide into the long booth seat opposite. Finn beams a bright, stunning smile at the others, slipping in beside me, and Tug locks her in. Perfect. She looked so fucking hot running between us, her soft, tan skin glistening as she worked up a sweat made running, for me at least, a challenge. Dressed in skin-tight, black shorts and bright pink crop top, showcasing her killer curves, she’s making my fucking balls ache like there’s no tomorrow. I felt bad that she pushed herself, but pleased too; it was impressive that she kept the pace like she did—until the moment she collapsed.
