Lucky Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  See? Selfish.

  We keep moving. It's starting to get dark and I can't bring myself to care. Finally, we hear water, and when we follow it, we hear a song.

  Ahead of us is a river, a crystalline ribbon that flows through the woods. Next to it sits a woman with flowing red hair. Her back is towards us, but even so, her voice carries over hum of magic, the whispering of the water, and the noises of the woodland animals. And her voice is unmistakable.

  "Mairi?" I shout to her, and she turns to face me. Her eyes are still the beautiful emeralds I remember and a scattering of brown freckles still graces her sun-kissed skin.

  Of course, not too far away, her seal skin lays, ready should she need to flee back into the water at a moment's notice.

  "What are you doing all the way over here?" she asks us, her eyes nearly circles. "After that incident where you got me out of that situation, I traveled all the way back here. I'm almost home. And I've been so grateful. But why are you here?"

  "It's a long story," Riley says. "But I'm glad you're doing well."

  "Got somewhere they can stay?" Connor interjects. "They've found themselves on the run for trying to help me like they helped you," he says, "assuming you're the selkie my sister mentioned while she was trying to beat me up."

  Mairi nodded. "Sure am, and sure do. There's a cave not too far upstream, if you can follow me while I swim. It's not much, but it's well-hidden... there was nothing in it when I found it. It should be safe for you to spend the night, at least," she says.

  We agree, and once she steps back into her seal-suit, we follow her. For once, I feel the same hope Riley keeps talking about.

  * * *

  We make it to the cave unscathed. As promised, it isn't much, but it's large enough for us to move around in, it's relatively dry, and I trust that the search party isn't going to find us here overnight. Mairi leads us to a side room that's somehow still large enough for us to be comfortable, and Connor and Riley spend a short amount of time gathering supplies from outdoors to build something in the way of makeshift bedding. It's still just sleeping on leaves, but it's nicer than sleeping on the stone of the cave, and I'm not about to complain about the accommodations.

  It's warm, especially with both men next to me, and I strip to my underwear. I roll my pants into a pillow, stuff them into my shirt to keep them coiled, and lie down, doing my best not to worry too much about what awaits us in the morning.

  They lay next to me, and Connor puts out the last torch. It's not quite pitch-black. A small amount of light from the main cavern where Mairi is keeping watch flickers against the walls and I can see their outlines in the light.

  I toss and turn for what feels like hours, but is probably thirty minutes tops.

  "You need to go to sleep," Riley tells me. He says it gently, stroking my hair as he does so. "We have a long few weeks ahead of us."

  I groan. That's the last thing I want to think about right now, even though I know he's right. "I guess I did say I was getting bored," I tell him. "Didn't expect this to be our new adventure, though. Kinda preferred going after the brownies to this."

  Connor chuckles, nuzzling his mouth into my neck from behind me. His touch makes goosebumps rise on my skin, and I lean into him, not diverting my gaze from Riley as I do so. "I don't know, love," he says, "I think we could convince you otherwise."

  "What did Riley just say about me needing to sleep?" I scold him, but I'm not persuading even myself with the question.

  "I don't know," Riley says, shrugging and moving towards me. "I think he might be onto something. If you can't sleep because you're too worried, I'm sure that time would be better spent on us making you forget about the terrible state of our reputations. What do you think, Connor?"

  "I think that's the only logical solution," Connor says.

  "I need to sleep, guys," I start, but my protest is weak and what little conviction I have fades when both cocks press into me at once. I'm starting to feel like they planned this and I don't have it in me to be angry, even though I have no idea when they would have had the time.

  "Then again," Riley says, "if she wants to sleep, we should let her sleep." Just like that, they both pull away, leaving the cool drafts of the cave to chill my exposed body. I blink up at him, and I swear I see his eye twinkle in the tiny bit of firelight illuminating his face. "But there's nothing stopping us from... using that to our own advantage. You game, man?" Riley asks, talking past me to Connor.

  "Come join me in the next room. We wouldn't want to disturb her rest with our moans," he says, and they motion to leave.

  "Fine, you win. Don't you dare leave this room." I almost yell it at them, and I'm rewarded for my effort by both of them chuckling at me. This is definitely more than I bargained for.

  "Thought we'd be able to change your mind," Riley says, and I want to smack him, but not more than I want to see him actually make out with Connor.

  "You two are the most difficult men I've ever dealt with," I tell them matter-of-factly.

  "She mostly avoids people," Riley tells Connor, "so that's not actually saying much. She believes she brings death and destruction to everyone she ever loves. It's all very dramatic."

  "Ah, well, that's okay," Connor says. "As a matter of fact, that might be an even stronger argument for me stickin' around. Somethin' about me making her luckier..." He trails off, and even with just a backlight to him I can tell that he's smiling wickedly at me. "As long as I fuck you a lot. Sound good, Miss Molly?"

  "Make out with Riley, please?" I ask him. I don't know what it is about the pairing that I want so badly; perhaps some kind of coming full circle. Some kind of reassurance that this is what Riley wants, too, and sharing me in practice isn't more of a problem than in the abstract.

  But it's selfish, too. As their lips crash together, I want them—both of them—more. I am lost to them and their lust for one another, and as they remove each other’s clothing and grasp at each other, all I am left to do is watch. The air that moves along my body chills me, and my nipples pebble against the fabric of my sports bra. Connor and Riley remove their shirts, and then they’re just muscle on muscle and something about the cold in contrast makes the scene unfolding before me that much dreamier.

  I move my hand down my torso, imagining Riley’s hands—the same ones that are grasping at Connor’s belt buckle—traveling down my body. I settle it atop my underwear, stroking myself in lazy circles as Connor’s pants slide down revealing his muscular legs. If Riley is as surprised by his size as I was, he doesn’t say anything. I blink and he’s on his knees, his hands sliding up the leprechaun’s girth. He takes it in his mouth, nearly halfway, and his hands move across the remainder of Connor’s length. Connor tosses his head back, letting out a noise I’m sure Mairi can hear in the next room. Neither of the men seem to care more about her overhearing than they do about me watching.

  It’s fascinating, really. Of course, Riley and I have never actually been together, and though we’ve never discussed our other partners at length, there’s one thing that’s very clear now: Riley has definitely done this before. I wonder at his layers, at the things about him he’s never told me for fear of...

  What? Me leaving him, probably.

  Oops.

  His lips are a rosy red I can just make out in the firelight, and I stare at them in some wonder. I’m familiar with their forms as they move across my cunt, and it only makes their current motion that much more appealing. I dip my hand under my underwear, stroking my clit directly, and as I do so, Connor’s voice carries to me in a direct command.

  “Stop,” he tells me. I freeze, then, reluctantly, pull my hand out and lay it across my stomach. It’s cold, I realize. Really cold. I’ve just been distracted.

  The men take their time with each other, Connor moving to his knees to make out with Riley for what seems like forever, but this time it’s less frantic. Almost tender, though perhaps I’m reading into it. They finally pull apart, something like romantic smiles on thei
r lips as they look at each other before turning to me.

  “Oh, right,” Connor says, “this was about helping the lass get to sleep. Seems we got a little carried away there.”

  “Serves her right,” Riley says, but his tone tells me he’s got a playful smirk on his face. “She’s the one who didn’t seem too excited about the prospect in the beginning.”

  “That’s not what-“ I start, but Connor’s hand covers my mouth.

  “No arguing. Turn over.”

  I don’t know what it is about Connor that makes me listen to him. Gods know Riley can tell me to do almost anything and that doesn’t mean I’ll do it. But I don’t ask questions, especially not now, and turn onto to my stomach.

  His hands grab my torso and pull me to my knees. Keeping one on my hips, he pushes my upper body downward again until I’m on all fours. I think I see where this is going and I do my best not to whimper.

  Riley moves in front of me. The tip of his cock peeks out from his boxers, and he removes them, freeing it. He prods my mouth open, sliding up my tongue and into the back of my throat with a gentle pulse. I can feel him holding back, and I want to ask why, but in the darkness I can’t even use my eyes to do so.

  “Relax,” he tells me as Connor’s rough fingertips remove my underwear. They fall to my knees and stay there, and his hands caress my ass and lower back. Riley takes a cue from him and massages my shoulders, never quite stopping his thrusting, but doing it almost as an afterthought. “All that matters right now is this. All that matters is us,” he tells me, and I think I catch him nod at Connor.

  Connor’s cock presses against me for only a moment before entering in tandem with Riley’s in my mouth. He slides in gently, too, and I want to move into him, but I’m trying to be different. I’m trying to, for once, completely trust Riley. I let my body loosen, supported by Connor’s hands on my hips and Riley’s on my shoulders, and they feel the moment I surrender. Their thrusting changes, growing faster, and I moan around Riley’s cock.

  I feel them lean in on either side, and I don’t know exactly why, but I imagine their lips meeting in the space above my back. They moan, too, until we are finally just a mass of moving flesh. I cum hard around Connor’s cock, and he presses into me with his own orgasm, a muffled scream signaling his release. Yup, they’re definitely making out, I think, and as if to drive the point home, Riley pushes himself to the hilt and cums in my mouth, too.

  They pull out together, and together they push me back to the pile of clothing that serves as my bedding for the night. One of them cleans me up, but I don’t see which one in the darkness. I assume it’s Riley, but it doesn’t matter. Not really.

  There are too many secrets in the night for it to matter. What’s one more?

  Whoever cleans me up moves my underwear back into its proper place, and I turn to lay on my side. Connor is behind me, his massive body pressed against mine, and I’m grateful for it for reasons beyond the warmth. Riley faces me, and while I don’t think he can actually see into my eyes, he looks at me like maybe he can. He moves one hand down the side of my face, brushing strands of hair behind my ear.

  There are so many things to say and he doesn’t need words to say them.

  The enormity of what we face isn’t lost on me: That we’re out of a job is the least of our problems. It’s on us to run, to concede, or to fight, and I’m stubborn. There’s only one option of the three I have it in me to do.

  Running would be simpler. Conceding would be easiest. But I’m a fighter.

  There was a reason I chose this gig to begin with.

  But what we face doesn’t matter. The road is long and it’s gonna suck ass and, for now, I have everything I need.

  Adventure.

  Something to fight for.

  Finally, the ability to learn how to love someone without hiding the words deep in my heart.

  For now, that’s enough.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Edeline Wrigh is an eccentric storyteller with a penchant for swearing, drinking too much caffeine, and spending more time with cats than people. She writes fantasy, romance, and love stories without happy endings from her house in the Midwest. When she's not putting words on paper, she's busy up leveling her martial arts game or taking in stories in any way she can.

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  Little Lucky Green Hood

  TB Mann

  Sometimes you need to break the rules.

  “Keep your mark hidden all the time.” Words drilled into my head by my parents. Yet, not one of them would explain why. Instead they kept me secluded from others in our village until they moved me into a cottage on the edge of the woods.

  “Never enter the woods before noon.” My father’s voice rang in my ears as the forest beckoned after a long winter. Breaking it once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  But staring into the eyes of the mangy wolf, I knew I should have followed the rules. On the day, I thought my life would end, I didn’t know it was just beginning.

  Warning: This story does contain some m/m depictions.

  Glossary

  TB Mann

  Glossary

  Breandan – Brandon

  Iasan – Jason

  Adhamh – Adam

  1

  Shaylee

  The woods called to me. The whistling of the wind through their branches, the hum of the earth beginning its spring wake up, sang deep within my spirit. The urge to race outside, to dance in the breeze, to wiggle my toes in the soil built up inside me, but I had chores to complete. And since I lived by myself in a tiny cottage on the edge of the woods, I was the only one who would clean it.

  When I dusted, I found myself gazing through the windows. A longing to be out in the sunshine itched along my skin. While sweeping the room, I found myself moving in an opposite pattern than my usual routine from the kitchen area to the living room where the big windows were. My feet, choosing to heed their own council, kept straying towards the windows and the front door.

  Once I gathered the dirt from the floor, I gave in and opened the two front windows, allowing the crisp, fresh air to sweep over me. I wanted to run and skip outside with a freedom the winter denied me, but I couldn’t. Not yet. The sun hadn’t risen past its zenith and I’d promised father never to go outside into the woods before then.

  But still the outdoors called. Maybe I could stay in the garden, I bargained with myself. No. I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the forest’s allure. Instead, I squinted at my windows. After a hard winter of snow and ice, I was sure the spotless windows could use a little cleaning. I skipped to the kitchen unable to remain somber and demure. The smile on my face caused an ache in my cheeks. Supplies in hand, I returned to the living room.

  Maybe I could satisfy the craving if I cleaned the outsides first? The idea had merit. I hoisted my ample butt onto the window frame, and leaned under the open pane to clean the upper outside portion. The wind blew through my long golden hair, but instead of streaming behind me like I saw on the covers of romance novels, it wrapped itself around my face and neck, trying to strangle me. I huffed and puffed as I attempted to pull it back into a braid. Usually I didn’t mind the length of my hair, but not today. Today I wanted to chop it all off as a type of rebirth to celebrate spring. But it was only a dream. I could never cut it. Not if I didn’t want to be punished by my stepmother when she came to visit.

  I was born with a large, strange birthmark in the shape of a shamrock on the back of my neck that extending onto my upper back. The luminescent green color shone against my pearly white skin, making the whole picture lifelike as if an artist painted a masterpiece on my skin. I loved the look of it, but from the time I was a little girl, both my mother and then my stepmother admonished me to keep it covered. I could still hear their voices in my head. “Shaylee, you can’t let anyone see that mark. Always keep your hair long to help hide it. Never wear your hair up. A man can never see
it or you won’t get married.” As I aged, I questioned them, but they never explained past the idea that men would not find it attractive.

  Keeping my hair long would have been a fine compromise if I could have found a husband. But from the time I first experienced my monthly courses, I’d been hidden away in this secluded cottage. My father explained it was for my protection, but from what, he never said. Yet he was my father and I knew I could trust him. He loved me deeply, and it revealed itself in this dream home he built me.

  It was a quiet life, but I was happy. I’d never been allowed to socialize with others in the village even when I lived there so, living alone was nothing new. I had a library filled with books to keep me company whenever I became bored or lonely.

  A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I finally had my hair contained. Grabbing a handful of old newspapers, I wiped the window to a beautiful shine.

  With one window complete, I moved to the matching one on the other side of my stone fireplace. This was my favorite room in the cabin. Actually, I couldn’t say that. Each room had its own charm, and I always thought the room I was currently in was my favorite. But this room, it was special. From the large windows, I could watch my garden grow during the spring and summer. I could even catch the sun glinting off the stream that crossed the back corner of it. And in the fall, the colorful leaf display put on a show not seen anywhere else. Even the starkness of the winter managed to display its beauty.

  With the second window complete, I wiped my brow. While the wind still contained a bite, the sun warmed my backside through my homespun dress. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I needed to be outside. Out in my forest. Besides, it was the perfect day to take my new cloak out for a spin. I’d spent the winter cleaning the wool, spinning it into yarn, dying it, and then weaving it on the loom sitting in the sun drenched corned of my craft loft.