Mountain Desire

by Vanessa Vale

  But this? Mac’s barbed words were directed at me. Me. And they’d hit the bull’s-eye.

  “Tell me, sweetheart,” Mac said. “Did you think I was the one who broke into your apartment? That I was looking for drugs? That I was into you so I could get drugs or scripts off you?”

  “What?” I sputtered. “I… oh—” I couldn’t get any real words out because what he was suggesting was too stunning.

  He bent down, scooped up my bra and tossed it at me. I caught it instinctively. The lace had made me feel sexy before, but now the lacy garment was tawdry.

  “Here. Go. You’ve had your fun. I didn’t tell you about it because it was a long time ago and it was irrelevant. It’s not that I didn’t trust you with the truth—like you not telling us about someone breaking into your apartment—but because we hadn’t had enough time for me to share it yet. Like Hardin said, we wouldn’t have touched you if we didn’t want you to be our girl.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  He cut me off. “Either you let us in, or you let us go.”

  His words hurt. I’d hurt him, hurt both of them by not trusting. I had to make this right because I couldn’t live with this ache. Even with both of them in the small room with me, I suddenly felt alone. More alone than I ever had in my life.

  They wanted me. Wanted to be with me, but I’d ruined it.

  “Yes, I… I knew before I came here.” I glanced at a car calendar on the wall, then forced myself to meet Mac’s angry eyes. “I didn’t think my source was lying when he told me about your arrest. I believed him. But I knew there was a reason behind the truth, that there was more to the story. It’s obvious now he told me deliberately to tear us apart, which is what’s happening right now. As for my apartment, I never thought you’d broken in.” Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked them away. I wasn’t a crier. I had nothing to cry about. I was used to dulling my feelings. From a very early age I’d recognized that getting hopeful about others’ affections would only make me hurt. So I stopped. With work I couldn’t get emotional. No one wanted a weak doctor.

  But this? It was so different. Hardin and Mac had gotten past the walls I’d put up. Knocked them down and now my heart was under attack.

  “I came here because it was the first place I thought of. The only place. I should have gone to the police, but I didn’t consider them. I thought of you and Hardin. That the shop was safe. That you’d be here.” I sniffed, willed the tears away.

  “You didn’t tell us about the break-in,” Hardin said. “Were you planning to?”

  “I came here on instinct even though I’m used to handling everything on my own. I didn’t think of it as your problem. Who wants a needy woman?” I shrugged. “Besides, I figured you’d think I was crazy.”

  “Someone slashed your fucking tire,” Mac said. “You’re not crazy.”

  “Hell, no,” Hardin agreed. “You didn’t see it earlier, but your coming here? It means, deep down, you trust us.”

  I agreed. “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t trust you. I wouldn’t have given you my body either.” I licked my lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m… new to this. Not just sex but interpersonal relationships. I’ve been hurt before. I’m wary about guys because of false intentions—”

  “We don’t have any false intentions where you’re concerned,” Mac said fiercely. “Didn’t you feel it when I fucked you into that couch?”

  I nodded, pushed my glasses up. “Yes. I just wanted to forget the stuff that’s happening for a little while, and I knew you could do that. I felt… feel safe when I’m with both of you. I should have told you. Shouldn’t have turned the argument off myself and onto your past. I’m sorry I messed up.”

  A painful lump formed in my throat. I was going to cry and cry hard. I just didn’t want to do it here, not in front of them.

  I squatted down, grabbed the rest of my clothes, not looking at either of them. I couldn’t. I’d blown it. I had two men interested in me. Two! They’d had sex with me because they’d wanted me. I never expected my first time to be like that. While it hadn’t been in a bed, I hadn’t wanted one. They’d been perfect. Patient. Gentle, or at least as much as they could be considering their size.

  And I’d been ungrateful and petty. I’d go home, call a locksmith and get my locks replaced. Then I’d climb into bed, toss the blankets over my head, try to forget about them, which would be impossible with a sore pussy reminding me of everything we’d done together. I’d been alone all my life, yet in two days Hardin and Mac had made me feel. Made me see what I’d been missing. And I’d ruined it. I’d get over this eventually. Whoever was messing with me, well, they couldn’t hurt me any worse than I hurt now.

  I stood and in a small voice I said, “I’ll just go.”

  10

  HARDIN

  * * *

  Mac had gone off the fucking deep end. I didn’t blame him, but all Sam had asked was if he’d been arrested for selling drugs. She’d asked, not accused, and she’d been willing to hear him out.

  She was new to Cutthroat, didn’t know the details of everyone’s lives. Small towns were like a microscope; everything was magnified. He didn’t tell people about the fucking mess with the drugs and his mom’s illness, but he never avoided it either. Now she knew Mac’s not-so-secret secret.

  The way he’d reacted showed how much he was into Sam. I’d never seen him like that with anyone else. An asshole at a bar he could shrug off. The old-timers who’d remembered what happened still gave him pitying stares. He didn’t give a shit. But with Sam? He seriously cared what she thought. He wanted her to like him, to know who he really was. To know what made him tick. And all that was completely separate from what we’d just done on the couch.

  Sam saw the real Mac now. No question.

  Thank fuck she wasn’t a stuck-up bitch who’d snub him for what he’d done. Some women had, and we didn’t even remember their names a minute after they walked away. Good fucking riddance.

  Sam understood because she was so fucking smart. No question she’d had a rough childhood. Her parents were still alive but not part of her life. She was a loner. Hell, I was too. Total introvert who liked reading a book over a night out. But I’d never felt alone. My parents were decent My brother was one of my best friends.

  I knew what real friendship was. What a real family was. Knew that what we’d done on that couch was so much more than fucking. Sam didn’t, but she would. Now she thought we hated her. She thought she’d blown it.

  There were moments like this where her brains got in her way. She thought we wouldn’t want to know about the break-in, that we wouldn’t want to take on a woman’s problems. She thought too fucking much. Again, she had no experience with people helping her, being there for her, so she didn’t expect it from us either.

  Even as a kid she’d been alone. Her parents hadn’t done their jobs; a Swedish housekeeper had done it for them. She hadn’t gone to school, so she hadn’t played with other kids. Then Harvard at fourteen. No shopping at the mall. No sleepovers like all teenage girls had. No dating. No prom. Then medical school. Again, alone.

  Had she ever had someone to lean on? No wonder she questioned everything; it was a version of self-preservation.

  But she was ours now and she had to stop fucking thinking so much and just feel, like she had on that couch… and it had been stunning.

  She’d come to the shop because she felt safe here, felt that she could trust us, at least subconsciously. When she stopped to think, that was when she screwed herself and got us where we were now. We’d have to teach her to run with those feelings, to go with her gut. And that meant sharing everything with us.

  Good and bad.

  Seeing her collect her clothes from the floor to leave was the saddest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

  She had her hand on the doorknob when Mac went over and wrapped an arm about her waist, pulled her back into him. Held her close.

  “You didn’t mess up, sweethe
art,” Mac said, nuzzling her neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry for pushing you.”

  She shook her head against his chest and kept her head tipped down. “It’s my fault. After what happened, of course you’d think the worst of me.”

  “We’re here for you. Deep down you know it.”

  If she were wound any tighter, she’d snap, but at his words she relaxed, almost wilted.

  “Something scares you, you tell us or that one handprint on your ass is going to have some friends.”

  She gasped at his threat, which wasn’t an idle one. So much for relaxed.

  “You’re not alone anymore.”

  Turning in his arms, she wrapped hers around his waist, clung to him, set her forehead on his chest.

  And cried.

  Mac glanced at me over his shoulder. I could read his look, knew exactly what it meant, without saying a word.

  She was ours. No question. There was no going back. No letting her go.

  “I’ll call Nix,” I said, reaching for the phone on the desk. It was time to get the police involved, although if they couldn’t find the fucker, Mac and I would.

  No question. The asshole was going down.

  Sam came out of her bathroom dressed in yoga pants, thick socks and an old Harvard hoodie. She’d taken her time in the shower, but I hadn’t wanted to rush her. She was a thinker and needed a little time to herself. We’d hashed out a lot of stuff, and she’d just had sex for the first time. With two guys.

  That was a lot for her small shoulders.

  She’d cried all over Mac’s bare chest. He’d held her, stroked her back and whispered words until she got it all out. I’d given them room, just watched her fall apart and let her learn we’d be there when she did so. To catch her.

  She must be exhausted. Work. Life. Going it all alone. Her work was stressful, literally life or death. Some guy had slashed her tire and broke into her apartment. She’d showed us how things had been moved. As an outsider I’d have never known, but the oddities were unlike her. I couldn’t imagine her setting a flower pillow upside down.

  On top of all that, she now had us.

  I sat on the side of her bed waiting for her. The pale yellow bedspread and matching pillows looked so girlie in comparison to my huge frame. The bed itself was small. I’d have to sleep in it at an angle so I’d fit, which meant we weren’t sleeping here. She’d stay with us at one of our houses.

  “Feel better?” I asked.

  She nodded, came over to me. I spread my knees a little wider and settled a hand at her back, pulled her forward so she stood right in front of me. Since I was sitting, we were eye to eye.

  “Right here,” I murmured, breathing her in. “This is where I want you.” I slid my hands up and under her sweatshirt, my palms resting on her waist, my thumbs brushing her belly. She was so warm, so soft. The scent of her soap and shampoo smelled so fucking good. I would swear it was strawberries.

  “I took a peek in your bedside drawer.”

  She gasped, looked to the little white table with the lamp on top and a biography of Robert E. Lee. It looked innocent enough, the table, but the contents inside… it was like a mini adult store toy collection.

  “I want to play with them someday,” I said, referring to the dildos, vibrators and other fun stuff. I’d gotten instantly hard peeking at the things she’d used on herself. “For now I’m really liking my hands on you.”

  To prove that, I caressed her skin, and I felt goose bumps rise.

  “I’m not used to this, to being touched. Held,” she admitted.

  “Get used to it.” While my words were sharp, my tone was soft. I was big. Really big, and because of that I’d learned to keep my voice low. It wasn’t in my nature to shout, but Sam was the last person I wished to scare. Big size plus booming voice equaled bad, especially after the emotional roller coaster she’d been on.

  “Hardin,” she said, even though we were the only two people in the room.

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you… do you think this is crazy?”

  “What?”

  She worried her lower lip and glanced at me through her glasses.

  “Us. I mean, I really don’t know you, and after what we did in your office and now you’re here in my bedroom and it’s you and Mac I’m interested in and—”

  I set a finger over her mouth to quiet her rambling. Her lips were plump. Soft.

  “You want to be with me and Mac?” I asked, studying her closely.

  She nodded.

  “Good answer after what we did in the shop.”

  That made her smile.

  “That’s all that matters,” I promised, so fucking relieved. We’d cleared things up back in the office, but we hadn’t said much after she’d cried herself out, only brought her back to her apartment to wait for Nix and his partner from the Cutthroat police. They’d arrived while she was in the shower, and Mac was out in her living room talking with them.

  I had Sam in front of me, and I was in no rush to get out there. They could wait. This, us together, was too fucking important.

  “One look, Sam. That was all it took,” I told her straight up.

  Her eyes flared wide at that admission, and she flushed prettily. I vowed to myself I’d never hold back with her, not with how I felt.

  “Surprises you, huh?”

  “Yes,” she admitted with a soft sigh.

  “One look at Mac’s dick in the ER and you were done for.”

  She blushed, then nodded.

  “You’ve put me and Mac in uncharted territory. Being with a woman is one thing. Being with a woman we want to keep is another.”

  “Oh.” She looked half relieved and half petrified.

  I smiled. “Yeah, oh.”

  “So you want to keep me?” she practically squeaked. “Really?”

  “Don’t let Mac hear you questioning again. Your ass is going to be pretty fucking hot.”

  She blushed and that color, that pretty pink, would be the shade of her gorgeous backside after a fun spanking.

  “Don’t panic.” I brushed a damp lock of hair over her shoulder. I hadn’t realized how long it was; the times we’d been together, it had been pulled back. “We’re as much yours as you are ours.”

  “Look at you, then look at me,” she murmured. “I’m not wearing makeup. My hair’s a mess. I’m not all that vain, but all the times you’ve seen me, I’ve been wearing scrubs,” she said, then looked down at herself. “Or sweats.”

  I hated that she was self-deprecating.

  “Or in sexy lingerie. Or naked,” I added. “If after earlier you doubt how much we want you, then we weren’t doing it right.” I yanked her in close so she could feel how hard I was for her.

  “I think you were definitely doing it right,” she replied.

  “Sam, breathe. We don’t have to figure it all out right away.”

  She licked her lips, looked up at me. “I am not used to emotions. They are overwhelming. Confusing. They defy logic. We defy logic. I mean, it’s happened so fast. I guess the meal at the bar could be considered a date by definition, but I got drunk and…”

  I definitely remembered the and. The way she’d played with her pussy. The sight of her when she came. I wasn’t forgetting that. Ever.

  “And then we fucked you good and hard.”

  The blush returned.

  “The only thing I know about you is that you’re a mechanic.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  She shrugged, her fingers going to a button on my flannel shirt—one of the only buttons still left after she ripped it open earlier. I tried to keep calm, but the innocent gesture was a fucking taunt, especially since I knew how wild she got.

  “Do you have a family? What’s your favorite color? Are you allergic to any foods? How do you like your coffee? Are you a morning person? Can you—”

  I laughed, then cut her off. “My parents live in Cutthroat, although they’re spending most of the winter in Arizona this year. I have an
older brother, like I said before. He lives here, and we’re pretty close.” I ran my hands up her back until my fingertips brushed the bottom of her bra. I loved the feel of her, couldn’t get enough.

  “I guess I like blue, I’m allergic to blueberries, although I won’t drop dead or anything, coffee should be black and I’m definitely a morning person.”

  “You’re like me,” she commented.

  “Oh? You mean you want to kiss me, too?”

  For a moment I confused her since we’d been talking about my likes and dislikes, not making out. We couldn’t fuck. I wanted to tip her onto her bed, climb on top of her and kiss the hell out of her. Then fuck her senseless. But not with the police in the other room. That would have to wait. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t take a minute of her just for myself and kiss her.

  I liked small women, a stark contrast to how fucking big I was. I liked to spoil them, handle them gently, like they were precious. Sam could stand on her own two feet. She was obscenely smart, most likely a genius, and had a solid career ahead of her. She could deal with pressures I couldn’t even imagine. Life-and-death. I wouldn’t take that from her, but I would help her with finding the fucker who was messing with her.

  I was just wired that way. To protect. As calm as I was, I fucked a little rough. Perhaps it was my size, or even my need for her. As for Mac, while he was the wild one between the two of us, he took the quiet approach. Slow, methodical, as if he wanted to savor every second of being inside her.

  “Yes, I want to kiss you, too,” she whispered.

  Fuck, yes.

  Cupping her face, I held her in place as I brushed my lips across hers, took it deeper when she angled her head. We kissed like teenagers, hot and heavy. Tongues tangled. Hands roved. She all but writhed in my lap as she came alive for me. My hands slipped beneath her shirt, brushed over her smooth belly and higher to cup her breasts. I didn’t feel delicate lace she’d worn earlier, but a soft cotton.

  “Why do I want more so soon?” she whispered as I kissed along her jaw, found the sweet spot behind her ear that made her gasp. “The biological urge to procreate is strong, but it hasn’t occurred in me until now.”