This isn’t looking good.
Hardy stands up and begins smashing his heel against the back window of her car.
“What are you doing?” I move back.
“We can’t dig the entire car out. She might need medical help. Move back, I’m gonna bust through this and we’ll pull her out.
I listen to him and watch as he bashes the glass with his heel until it fractures and cracks like a giant spider web. The safety glass doesn’t just implode, which is perfect because the last thing we want right now is to cover her in splintered shards.
I move in, helping Hardy peel back the glass. We keep it slow and steady, careful to keep the rounded pebbles all together. We don’t want to be digging through a jigsaw of smashed pieces to get to her. Patience pays off because we manage to get the back window off the car. Hardy and I toss it aside. Hardy tries to scoot down inside the car, but he can’t worm his way past the backseats. He’s too big. Being leaner, I give it a go and manage to squirm down into the car. Hardy is holding my feet so I don’t just end up kissing the dash with my face.
“Okay, I can manage now,” I call back and he cautiously lets me go. I get turned around and pull out my pocketknife. “Mary?”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t move. Oh my God, I think she’s dead.
I slice the airbag open and it deflates. White powder coats everything, even Mary’s face. A trickle of blood slides down her forehead. She looks so pale, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s because she isn’t breathing, or from the powder.
“Mary!” I yell as loud as my vocal cords will allow.
Watching her like a hawk stalking a field mouse, I wait and notice that she’s…
“She’s alive!” I call out to Hardy. “She’s breathing.”
“Good.” I can hear the relief in his voice. “Now get her the fuck out here,” he yells back.
“O-Owen?” She finally stirs and her voice is music to my ears.
“Yeah, babe. It’s me,” I soothe her and saw my knife through her seatbelt. “You’re gonna be okay. I swear. Just help me get you out of here.”
“Owen? Hardy? Oh, thank God. I’m so sorry,” she starts blubbering. “I never should have left. I made a huge mistake,” she sobs.
“Don’t worry about any of that now.” I finally manage to separate her seat belt. “We can talk about all that later. Right now, let’s get you home.” I run my hands down her arms, checking for broken bones.
“Home,” she answers dreamily. “I like that. I want to go home. Home to my men.”
“Are you hurt? Do you think you broke anything?”
“No, I just hit my head pretty hard, but I think I’m good.”
“Can you climb up out the back window?”
“The back window?” Her eyebrows slide upward and she finally takes a look around the car. “Oh, uh, I’m not sure.” She bites her lip. “But I’ll try.”
I help Mary ease free from her seat and push on her ass as she climbs toward the back window.
“Give me your hands,” Hardy growls.
For once, she doesn’t argue with him. Suddenly, she’s yanked free from the car. Of course, Hardy doesn’t do shit to try to help me out. I’ve got to inch my own way out bit by bit. Eventually, I make it back out into the daylight, feeling a bit like I did when I was a kid and my friends and I used to make epic snow castles inside huge banks the plows pushed to the sides of the roads.
I hop down from the washout of snow and join Hardy and Mary in the Jeep. They’re both silent, so I join in, not saying a peep as Hardy drives us back to the cabin. So many emotions swirl up inside me, first of all, relief. I thought she might have been dead.
Still, under that elation is other, conflicting feelings. Like sadness that she even tried to sneak away and anger that she didn’t think enough of us to say goodbye. I look from Hardy’s face to Mary’s and can see that we’re all struggling with this. We’re all shell-shocked by this craziness. Now, I can’t help but wonder, is it too late to work it all out?
13
Mary
The guys still haven’t said much to me. Other than getting me to count their fingers and checking me for signs of concussion or injuries. Owen has been a bit more friendly than Hardy, but both of them are staying pretty tight-lipped.
When Hardy yanked me free from the back of the car, I tried to hug him. I tried to snuggle against his chest and get lost in his strong arms, but he grabbed me and moved back. All he said was to get my ass in the car.
Not exactly feeling the warm and fuzzies from that.
Can I really blame him? I tried to abandon them. I tried to run away and put them both behind me forever. I deserve their cold shoulders. I deserve worse.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that fate or destiny or whatever is playing its hand. I’m not proud that I tried to take off the way I did, but I did it. And instead of being in my lonely condo in the city right now, I’m nestled on the couch in front of a roaring fire while the two men I care for most in this world, the two men that make my heart swell three sizes bigger like the Grinch, they’re here. They’re taking care of me.
They saved me.
“She’s fine,” I hear Hardy snarl at Owen.
“Dude, she was passed out. That’s serious.”
“We looked her over, we’re keeping an eye on her, she’ll be fine.”
“Guys?”
They both look over at me, Owen’s blue eyes soften when they settle on my face, but Hardy is the opposite. I can see the wall he’s building around himself and I can see he plans to keep me on the outside of it.
“What?” Hardy doesn’t try to hide his anger.
“Can, uh, do you think we can talk for a sec?”
Owen walks toward me, I can see that he wants to talk to me too. Hardy, on the other hand, he roots to the spot, crossing his arms like huge oak branches over his chest. “Oh, so now you want to talk?”
“Yeah, please?”
“Well then, maybe I should take a page from your playbook, huh? Maybe I should just sneak out of here and let you choke on your words.” He scowls.
“I would deserve that.” I look down at the blanket covering my lap and sniffle.
“Hardy,” Owen presses him. They share a silent conversation in pointed looks, but Hardy finally relents. He shuffles across the floor a bit closer, but he doesn’t come over the entire way.
I try to push my glasses up my nose, but they’re gone. It’s going to take some time to get used to losing them. Even though I only really need them for reading, they became so woven into my identity, such a symbol for who I am, I feel naked without them.
“What?” Hardy barks at me, clearly impatient.
“I’m, well, I know it doesn’t mean much, but thank you both so much. You saved my life.”
“Hardy is the one who went to check if you got caught up in that avalanche.” Owen nods at his friend. “He’s the one who didn’t stop looking until he found your car too.”
“Really?” I look up at Hardy hopefully. Maybe it’s not too late to save this. To save us.
“What was I supposed to do? Let you die?” he scoffs. “Anyway, if that’s all you wanted, I’ve got other things to do.” He turns around and starts to walk toward the door.
“Stop!” I yell.
“Excuse me?” He turns back around and his face is twisted with rage. “Who the fuck do you think you are telling me what to do, huh?”
“Hardy, chill out man.” Owen holds up his hands.
“No, I won’t fucking chill out. If you want to be her little lapdog, getting little head pats whenever she decides you’re good enough for it, then that’s on you. I’m not playing this game anymore. I’m fucking done.”
“It’s not a game,” I protest.
Hardy’s jaw clenches and his beard twitches. Anger sears a red streak over his cheeks and his eyes narrow. “You left, remember? You snuck out of here, packed your shit and took off. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s playing game
s to you? Did you even leave a note? Huh? Did you give a fuck about us at all before you decided the only place we were good enough to look at was in your rearview mirror?”
“No,” I whisper, tears brimming my eyes.
“That’s what I fucking thought,” he growls.
“I wasn’t trying to leave because I was playing games.” I try to convince him, but his face doesn’t change. If anything, I think I’m just making him angrier.
“Oh, really. Then please, enlighten me.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “What would you call it then?”
“I was trying to leave because…”
“Because you’re ashamed of what you want. Because you can’t admit your own desires. Because you care more about your self-image than us.” Hardy checks his points off on his fingers, one by one he paints a picture of me that’s not very flattering.
And the worst part is, he’s not entirely wrong.
“Yes, those things are true. I wasn’t ready to be honest with myself about any of this. I’ve been lying, telling myself that I’m not this kind of girl. Like you have to be something bad to want this. To want us.”
“Told ya.” He looks at Owen smugly.
“Let her finish, man,” he answers.
“Fine,” Hardy huffs.
“But when that snow buried me…” The tears I’ve been trying to hold back fall down my face. I can’t hold them back for even a second more. “When I thought I was going to die out there,” I sniffle, “I realized that, yes, what you’re saying is true. But the bigger reason, the real reason I tried to ditch you guys is because I was afraid.”
“Afraid? Of us?” Owen looks hurt.
“No. Not of you.” I reach out and grab his hand. He flinches like my touch hurts him and it makes me cry harder. “No, the thing I was afraid of was admitting that, well, admitting that I’ve never felt this way about one guy before, let alone two. Admitting that I want you both, that I need you both, that I’m falling in love with you both.” My voice chokes up and I sob into my hands.
“You’re falling in love with us?” Owen eases down off the arm of the couch and settles down beside me. I don’t look up, I’m afraid he might say I’m crazy or stupid or both. I can’t face his rejection. I can’t face either of them telling me they don’t feel the same way.
“I thought I was the only one who was feeling that way,” Owen murmurs.
My heart sings like a chorus of angels. It soars in my chest and makes me feel like I’m bursting with light. I throw my arms around Owen’s neck and he kisses me softly.
“Pffft,” Hardy interrupts the moment. “So now you love us? Come on.” He rolls his eyes. Still, instead of walking out that door, he saunters across the floor toward us.
“Hardy, you know how much I care about you, man, but sometimes you’re dumb as a post.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Think about it, man. Why are you so mad right now? Huh? How is it that she cut you so deep? Maybe you feel more for her than you’re letting on?” Owen tilts his head.
Hardy reaches the edge of the couch and looks down at me. For once I can see the hurt dancing in his eyes. The rage is gone. His wall is falling down. I can see the real him.
“I’m glad your stupid fucking glasses are gone.” He grabs my hands and tugs me up from the sofa.
“Why?” I look up at him from under the ridge of my lashes.
“Because I don’t love that side of you. That prissy, little-Miss-Perfect, prude.” He pulls me into him and I melt against his chest.
“No?”
“No,” he growls. “I don’t love that side of you because that’s not the real you. This, now, being open with us. This is the real you. This is the woman I’m falling in love with.”
My heart is a helium balloon in my chest. Owen stands up from the couch and both of them wrap me in their arms. I finally let it all go, the image, the need to control what everyone thinks of me, my writer’s block. I let it float away and burn up in the atmosphere. I don’t care about any of it. I have everything I need right here and I’m never going to turn my back on it again.
“I’d like to stay, if you’ll still have me,” I murmur.
“Oh, we’ll have you all right.” Hardy smirks.
Anticipation builds up inside me as Hardy covers my face and neck in kisses. He lifts me up and I slide my legs around his waist. Strong hands cup my ass and hold me steady as he walks me backwards across the open floor over to the kitchen. Owen follows us over to the counter where Hardy eases me down. He plops me down at the end of the island. Owen slides around one side of me and Hardy is on the other.
I close my eyes, letting myself be blind to who is doing what to me, letting myself get lost in them. In us. Soft kisses travel my collarbone. Down my other arm, bristling kisses burn my skin in the same way that sparks fly from a match striking the black strip that sets it ablaze. That makes it burn with life, if only for a second, and it burns so bright.
Warm lips suck in my fingers, a soft tongue swirls around the tips, sending jolts up my arm. Gentle lips kiss and urgent trail down to the edge of my shirt. Hands slide up under the fabric, lifting it over my body, freeing me from it as I lift my hands overhead and let it go.
I let it all go. My fears. My inhibitions. My need for control.
It floats up into the atmosphere, unchaining me from all those stupid worries that I let rule my world. The biggest one of all frees from where it was wedged tight inside me. It wiggles free and disappears into the rafters, the fear of what other people think, it finally leaves me. I’m finally free.
Four hands roam my skin. One of the guys unsnaps my bra and I let it fall away. A set of fingers flicker open the button on my pants. I’m not sure if it’s the same fingers that unzip me or not. All I know is I lift my ass off the counter, wet and dying to feel them worship me, eager to help them pull off my jeans.
My jeans go quickly, along with my underwear. I’m naked.
The room gets so quiet. For a second I don’t feel either of them. Nervous, I open my eyes and watch them as they both grab a leg and hold me open. Hardy drags his tongue down the inside of my left thigh and breathes lightly over my pussy. The little hairs on the back of my neck tingle and goosebumps break out over my skin.
My heartbeat quickens, rushing blood through me, making my nerves come alive. Hardy licks my center and then rolls his tongue over my clit. I lean back on my elbows and watch as Owen kisses my other thigh softly. Hardy works me up into a fervor, I’m bucking on the edge of the counter, and it opens something inside me. That dirty girl I’ve spent my entire life denying. She’s done hiding. She’s done being ashamed. She’s got a taste of what she wants and she’s absolutely starving for more.
“Owen, I need to fuck,” I breathe in sharp as Hardy makes me struggle to form words. I’m so close to the edge. “Owen, get up here. I need to suck your cock,” I try to sound commanding, but it comes out desperate.
My head rolls back as Hardy tongue fucks me deep. I breathe fire as he goes back to my clit. I hear Owen stripping, but I can’t open my eyes to watch. Not when my body is just one raw, contracting nerve on the edge.
Owen crawls up onto the counter, he’s naked and my hands roam his firm skin as he edges up me. He crawls toward my face, his huge cock swinging back and forth hypnotically. He doesn’t stop until each of his legs is straddling my face. He pushes down his cockhead until his glistening dew drops of precum are resting on my lips. I lick the tip of my tongue over the top, swiping them away and he thrusts his shaft inside.
Surprised, I open my eyes wide and my jaw wider. I suck his cock hard, even as my own pleasure overwhelms me and makes me shudder and shake beneath him. I can’t help the moans that surround his cock. I don’t care anyway.
“I’m gonna fuck your tight little pussy, sweetheart. While Owen fucks your mouth, got it?” Hardy growls. It sends a shiver through me and it’s not because I’m scared.
“Mmmhmm,” I groan.
“Good girl,” he holds my legs wide and slides his cock inside me. I’m held down, lying back on the counter and completely at their mercy. Exactly how I want it. Hardy is fucking me hard, holding my legs high in the air. Owen is sliding his cock between my lips faster and I’m mewling and squirming for both of them.
I grip Hardy’s cock tight inside me, making him fuck me harder. Owen’s cock twitches in my mouth and Hardy’s throbs inside me. Both of them cum at the same time. Each of them fill me with their warm seed and it’s too much for me. I can’t hold back a second longer, I growl loudly as my body tightens with my orgasm.
The guys pull free from my body and pull me off the counter. They walk me to the bedroom and lie me down between them.
“You’re ours now,” Hardy murmurs. “Got it?”
“I got it,” I snuggle between them lazily. Feeling completely at home.
Because I am home. This is where I belong. And this is where I’ll stay.
Epilogue
My fingers dance over the keyboard as the chaos of our house plays like background music for me in the living room. I pause, allowing myself to swim up from the world I’m creating in my book and resurface for air. As I look away from the screen and tilt my head and listen, I can hear my twin boys chasing each other around and laughing.
It’s like my senses return to me, they sharpen back up from the dull, distant state they go into while I’m writing. The house gets louder, my stomach growls as the smell of supper wafts in under my nose, reminding me what time it is.
“Daddy?” Our little princess, Sophia’s sweet voice cuts through the insanity her older brothers are causing.
“Yeah?” I hear Owen answer her.
“Nobody will pway pwincess wif me.” She sniffles.
I don’t need to be in the other room to know how she’s looking up at him with her big blue eyes tugging at his heartstrings.
“Aww, honey. I wish I could play princesses with you, but I can’t. I’m in the middle of cooking supper. Maybe your brothers will play?”
Shared by the Lumberjacks Page 7
