by Cecelia Rose
“I got a ride sorted, so I just figured I'd go home,” I lie, gesturing to the plane.
“But why would you just go without saying anything?” Spencer questions as he joins us by the gate.
“You guys were all sleeping, it was kind of a ‘leave now or be stuck on the island for another few days’ kind of deal. I figured a note would suffice,” I reply curtly, noticing that Noah is heading over to us, too. I place my laptop bag on the ground next to my suitcase.
“Your note didn't really explain anything, Tamara,” Noah says as he reaches us.
“I figured it covered all the bases,” I retort, not able to meet his lying eyes. Why do the liars always have such pretty eyes?
“It said, and I quote, ‘Sorry, I’ve sorted a plane to go home. Thanks for letting me stay. I'll miss you all, Tamara.’ That's not exactly a good explanation for leaving without saying anything to us,” Spencer accuses, running a hand through his tousled, blond hair. He looks completely on edge for some reason. Blake steps closer to him, their bodies almost touching, and he visibly relaxes from the closeness.
“What more do you want me to say?” I ask, letting go of my suitcase handle to fold my arms across myself.
“The real reason you're leaving, maybe?” Blake prompts. When I say nothing, he huffs. “Is it because of me and Spencer? Do you have an issue with how we are with each other?” he questions. My jaw drops.
“Of course I don't have an issue with you and Spencer. I'd hardly have slept with you both at the same time if I did!” I snap, shocked he'd even jump to that conclusion.
“Then what is it?” Noah prompts lightly. His soft tone and innocent act is pissing me off majorly. He'd made me feel like a complete fool. They all had.
“It's you, okay?” I snap at him, my eyes narrowing.
“What?” they all seem to question in unison, the other two looking between me and Noah.
“What did I do?” he asks.
“You kissed me. Twice,” I answer through gritted teeth.
“I was under the impression you enjoyed that as much as I did,” he responds, the crease in his brow deepening as he frowns.
“So what if I did? That's not the point here.” A few hot tears threaten to escape my eyes. I blink furiously to keep them back. I will not show weakness.
“I don't really see what the problem is. I thought we were clear on the fact we were all okay with you being interested in all of us, if that's what you're talking about,” Blake says.
“That's not the issue, Kara is the issue,” I snap, completely losing my cool. I hate being made to feel like an idiot, and they’re all making me out to be a fool.
“How do you know about Kara?” Noah asks, the words so quiet I barely catch them.
“You left the internet open on a picture of you two at your engagement party for god's sake!”
“Fuck,” he mutters, his eyes widening as realisation hits.
“So which is it, are you two still engaged or are you married now?” I ask, not able to keep the question in if I tried.
“He's neither,” Spencer answers for him.
“What?” I ask, not understanding.
“Kara and Noah split up three years ago,” Blake explains. Noah looks completely mortified, and is staring at me silently.
“Why would he have a picture of her up then?” I question, not willing to fall for it so easily. When something sounds too good to be true, it normally is.
“Someone commented on it, I just clicked the notification and it came up. You knocked as I clicked on it, and that's when I opened the word document,” Noah explains. He pulls out his phone and taps on it a few times, before turning it around to face me, showing me it’s the picture of him and Kara. He scrolls down, showing a comment from someone called Daniel timestamped as last night. He then brings up his profile, and shows where it lists himself as single. “One more thing,” he adds, cutting me off as I open my mouth to speak. He brings up Kara's profile, showing her relationship status. She's married to someone called Jacob. Damn.
“Shit, I'm so sorry.” I groan internally. How could I have jumped to conclusions like that without even hearing him out?
“I wouldn't have kissed you if I was with someone,” he says, narrowing his coppery-brown eyes on me.
“Did you only leave because of that?” Spencer asks. “And, you like us, all of us?” he adds almost nervously.
I chew on my lip as I look between the three of them. Of course I like them all, they’re a perfect mix. I nod, the lump forming in my throat stopping me from speaking. Blake tugs me to him, and tilts my head up crashing his lips down onto mine. He kisses me hard and fast, completely dominating the kiss as I melt against him. He turns me to face Spencer, holding my hands behind my back as Spencer cups my face in his, before leaning down and kissing me too. As he pulls back, his blue eyes meet mine.
“Please don't go, Tamara. Just stay a little longer. I don't know what this is, but it feels right with you here with us,” Spencer requests, before he presses another soft kiss to my lips.
“Ditto on his sentiments, beautiful. Stay. We can see where this takes us,” Blake whispers in my ear, before he releases my hands. I turn to face Noah.
“I'm so sorry—”
“Don't even say it. I get it, how could you see that and not think what you did? It's okay, Tamara. Just come back with us,” he demands, reaching out and pulling me towards him. I lean up and kiss him, quickly pulling away.
“I want to, but I can't,” I say softly, casting my eyes downward.
“What?” Blake snaps.
“Why can't you?” Spencer asks, reaching for one of my hands. I clear my throat and look up at them all.
“I took the job offer my mother secured for me, at her brother-in-law's company. I start in two weeks,” I explain.
“You don't even want that job,” Blake huffs.
“That's not the point. I’ve said I’ll take it, and I can't just back out now. I won't ever hear the end of it.” I cast a glance over at the building, the man who waved me over is standing leaning against it, watching the four of us curiously.
Damn. What a sight we must make to see.
“You can't do a job that won't make you happy—what about your writing?” Spencer asks.
“I guess I'll just have less time to write,” I concede, already knowing in my gut that that will be the worst part of this job. Less time doing what I love.
“You can't do that to yourself. Nope. No way,” Blake says, then he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder. I screech from shock.
“Oh my god, Blake! Put. Me. Down!” I cry as he walks over to his car, not seeming the slightest bit slowed down by carrying my weight, not even with me wriggling. Noah and Spencer are no help to me, Spencer just laughs, while Noah grabs my suitcase and laptop bag, then carries them over to the car. He shoves them both in the boot as Blake throws me onto the back seat. Before he can follow me into the back, Noah slips in first, claiming the seat next to me.
“You don't want to go, so you're not going. Unless you can tell us that you really, truly want to leave, you're staying,” Noah says firmly. I look helplessly between the three of them as Spencer slides into the driver’s seat and Blake drops down into the front passenger one.
“I don't want to go, but I have to, my mum will—”
“You can't live your life trying to make someone else happy, it'll only tire you out. What would make you happy? Honestly, think about it for a second, Tamara,” Noah says.
Slowly, I run my eyes over all of them. I want them, all three of them. I want to stay here and write, I've never had the words type so easily onto my laptop than when I’ve been on this island. The peace, the beauty of it. It's the perfect place.
“I want to stay,” I whisper softly, but luckily it’s loud enough that they all hear it. Spencer starts the car, and Noah pulls me across the backseat to him, claiming my lips with his own as he tugs me onto his lap.
“That's all we wanted to he
ar,” he says quietly. I turn forward and catch Blake's eyes. He smiles brightly at me.
“Time for all of us to go home.”
Chapter 13
“So, how did it go?” Noah asks me as I walk into the living room. He’s sitting stretched out on the sofa, his legs lying across the length of it.
“How do you think it went?” I question, my expression deadpan.
“That well, huh? Come here.” He reaches his arms out, and I fall into them, lying across him on the sofa.
“Remind me to avoid all calls from my mother for at least six months,” I request with a chuckle.
“Did you call your friend, too?” he asks.
“Shit, no I forgot. Two seconds,” I mumble, sitting up. I pull my phone out from my back pocket and hit call on Whitney’s contact. Two rings chime out before she answers.
“Whitney’s morgue. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?” she announces cheerfully as she answers.
“You know that’s not ever been funny, not even once,” I reply, rolling my eyes.
“Fine, what about this one: You’ve reached the fire department, I may be flaming hot, but if you light ‘em, I’ll fight ‘em!” she recites, her voice extra sultry.
“Please stop,” I beg.
“But I’ve got so many good ones!” she whines.
“I think we have very different definitions of good, but moving on swiftly, I’m not coming home just yet after all,” I explain.
“You’re not? What happened?” she asks, snapping out of her playful mode for a more serious one in seconds.
“I decided to stay. It turns out that I got the whole picture situation wrong. I’ll text you later and explain properly, but long story short is that I’m an idiot who shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” I answer.
“So, the hottie isn’t a cheating son of a bitch after all?” she asks casually.
“No, he isn’t. Luckily for me,” I reply, turning to smile at Noah.
“So, you’re gonna sex him up, too, right?” she asks.
“You’re so crude,” I answer.
“That’s not a denial,” she teases.
“It’s definitely not a denial. I’ll talk to you later,” I reply.
“Eeeek! Get it, girl!” she cheers, hanging up before I can respond. I roll my eyes. Typical Whitney.
“All done making your calls?” Noah asks, tugging me back towards him.
“Yup, I am all yours now for the evening,” I tease, dropping my phone onto the coffee table as I straddle his lap. I brush my lips up against his, trailing soft kisses across his jaw before pulling away and standing up.
“Where are you going?” he asks, sitting up. I push him back down and then step back, slowly stripping off my t-shirt, and shimmying out of my jeans. I climb back onto his lap, now dressed only in my bra and knickers.
“Just getting a little more comfortable,” I say softly in his ear.
“Feel free to get as comfortable as you’d like,” he replies, running his hands across every inch of my bare skin. I can feel him already hard underneath me, so I grind my body against his, loving the rough texture of his jeans that I can feel through the thin, lacy fabric of my knickers. His hands land firmly against my rear, then he pulls me harder against him as I continue to grind my body against his.
One of his hands slides up my back till it reaches my bra, he expertly releases the clasp with one hand, and then peels the straps down each shoulder. He takes his time doing it, not rushing in the slightest.
He pulls the bra completely away from my body, freeing my breasts to him as he throws the bra across the room. He slides a hand over one of them, squeezing and then tweaking the nipple between his fingers. He dips his head forward, taking the other in his mouth, sucking and then teasing with his teeth. I lean my head back just enjoying the sensations for a moment, running my hands through his hair.
He switches, teasing my other nipple with his mouth while he slides his hands back down to my ass as he slowly tugs my knickers off. I lift my body up from his to make it easier for him to tug them down, then I wriggle my feet, pushing them the last little bit off me, so they land on the floor below.
I look down at him, still completely dressed beneath me as I sit completely naked on top of him. A part of me feels kind of vulnerable, being so exposed to him, but mostly it’s just arousing. I move my body against his hardness through his jeans, feeling myself getting his jeans a little damp from my arousal.
Time to even the playing field a little… I tug his shirt off, running my hands across his toned muscles, remembering how he looked the first time I saw him open the door. Shirtless, his muscles glistening with a light sweat.
He reaches down and begins to rub me, his fingers sliding down to my wetness before moving back up and circling my clit. I can barely stay upright from the sensation, I lean my forehead against his. But he's not satisfied with this, and tilts his head forward claiming my lips with his mouth, pulling my bottom lip with his teeth and sucking on it before diving back in with his tongue.
It's all becoming too much, and I buck my hips, grinding myself against his hand. I reach down and unbutton his jeans, freeing his cock, but he stops me. He twists us around on the sofa, pushing me onto my back lying across it. He kisses up the inside of my thigh, and my fingers seem to tangle in his hair of their own accord as I feel his hot breath between my parted legs.
I shiver as I feel his tongue snake across my opening. He moves up, swirling his tongue around with precision as I feel him slide a finger inside of me. I buck my hips up, trying to feel him harder against me, needing it rougher. He pulls his head and hand away as he kisses up my body, until he's lined up against me. His lips claim mine, and I can taste myself on them as he slides inside of me. At first, he moves slowly, like how you'd dip you toe into a pool of water to test the temperature. As impatient as I am, I push back up against him, and slink my hands around his waist tugging him roughly against me.
He quickly catches on, grabbing my hands and pinning them up above my head with one of his. He grips my hip harshly as he thrusts into me harder than before. I try to move my hands down, but he tightens his grip, keeping me firmly in place. My eyes flash to his, seeing the lust reflected in his copper-tinged eyes as our lips meet again in clash of teeth and tongues.
He moves his hand from my hip, trails it across my abdomen, before dipping it down to tease me as he continues to move in and out of me. Letting out short, gasping breaths as he continues to fuck me, I feel myself tipping over the edge. I wrap my legs around his waist as he continues his movements.
I cry out, feeling the rush roll through me as I squeeze my legs around him. He lets out a rough groan of pleasure as he reaches his own peak, before collapsing down against me.
We lie there in a tangle of limbs, kissing and touching still, not ready for it to be over just yet. He flips us over, so I’m lying on top of him. I kiss him gently as he runs his hands over my back.
“I should probably grab a shower,” I murmur softly.
“Mind if I join?” he asks, nipping my ear gently.
“That’s the idea,” I reply mischievously. I stand up and tug him off the sofa, luring him up the stairs after me.
Epilogue
1 year later...
“Is that your mum calling?” Noah asks, gesturing to my phone. I look at the screen and pull a sour face—all the answer he needs. Blake reaches across the oak coffee table for the phone.
“Tamara's phone, Blake speaking,” he answers. There's a pause on our end. “No, Tamara is in the shower at the moment and can't talk right now. Yes, I will pass on your message.” Another pause. “Happy Christmas, to you, too, Mrs. James,” he says, rolling his eyes as he ends the call. I lean over the coffee table and press my lips to his, giving him a soft kiss.
“You know I love you, right?” I say, beaming at him.
“Yes, you love me whenever I answer calls from your mother for you, or give you a back-rub, or do that thing you
like with the—”
“Blake!” I snap, looking pointedly between him and Whitney, who is sitting in the large brown chair on the other side of the living room. “We have a guest,” I add, just to clarify my look.
“Hey, don't mind me. Do go on, Blake, I'm sure it was just about to get interesting,” Whitney requests teasingly, a glint in her eyes as she smirks at me.
“Don't do it, Blake. You'll get demoted to the guest room,” Spencer warns him as he tugs me back into his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist as I snuggle back into his chest. “Actually, maybe you should. I'd get Tamara all to myself for a few nights,” he adds, winking at him.
“I think you'll find it's my night with Tamara,” Noah says, pushing the plate of cookies across the table. I reach down and grab one, then lean back against Spencer again. He leans down and takes a bite from my cookie. I give him evil eyes for a second and then just give up, handing over that cookie and reaching for another.
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Spencer replies around a mouthful, rolling his eyes. They all know the schedule well. It makes sure we all have enough time for each other and ourselves.
I look around the living room. Blake sitting on the floor across the low-rise table from me, with Lola lying across his lap. Noah is to my right on the other end of the sofa, sitting back with his feet up on the table. I turn and look at Spencer behind me.
I even look across at Whitney making herself at home in the huge chair by the fire. I catch a glimpse out the window behind her, watching the snow fall. The snowflakes and drops hit softly against the window.
I let out a contented sigh. Surrounded by my three boyfriends, my best friend, and even the snoring dog, I've never been happier to be stuck on the tiny island that I now call home.
About the Author
Cecelia Rose, also know as Cece Rose, is the proud owner of one dog, four turtles, and one annoying boyfriend.