“To the lake,” Finn says.
“I’ve never been swimming in a lake before,” I say.
“Your mom said the same thing last summer,” Finn says. Reid puts his hand over mine when Finn mentions my mom, but I’m okay. Her memory is a painful twinge, instead of a punch in the gut. It may feel different tomorrow, but right now, I’m okay.
“There are a lot of things to do in Woodford in the summer that you’ve probably never done before: berry picking, bonfires, the county fair…” Mitchell says.
“And that’s it,” Reid says, interrupting. “That’s the whole list.”
I laugh. “That all sounds like a lot of fun, and you’re right, Mitchell. I’ve never done any of those things.”
“I guess we’ll have a busy summer, then,” Finn says. He looks at me through the rear view mirror, his smile broad.
I smile back, and I want so much to enjoy those things with all of them, but part of me is wondering if I should stay all summer. How much harder will it be to leave them then?
After fifteen minutes, we turn down a narrow, wooded dirt road, and then we drive for another long while. The road seems to get more narrow as we go.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, seeing no sign of a lake.
“It’s our secret spot,” Finn says.
“It’s not exactly secret,” Mitchell says. “But we usually have the place to ourselves.”
Eventually we come to a clearing. My eyes widen as a blue lake spreads out before us, sparkling in the summer sun. Finn parks in a small pull-off area and we make our way toward the water’s edge. As Mitchell predicted, we’re the only people in sight.
“It’s so peaceful here,” I say, breathing in the scent of pine that’s carried in the gentle breeze. “So pretty.”
“We’re starting to see it that way now,” Mitchell says. “We’ve been coming here since we were kids, and it was never peaceful when the three of us were here.”
As if to illustrate the point, Finn drops the bag he’s carrying, tugs his shirt over his head, kicks off his shoes, and takes off at a run. He quickly crosses the small wooden dock jutting into the lake, then jumps high. Tucking his feet up close to his body, he cannonballs.
The big splash breaks the water’s calm surface, and our cries of surprise disrupt the serenity of the setting. As I’m watching for Finn to surface, Reid pulls off his shirt. “It’s the only way,” he says with a shrug, before he takes off for the dock.
After Reid’s big splash, both of their wet heads appear, whooping in exhilaration.
I look to Mitchell expectantly. “Well?”
He smiles, shakes his head, and picks up the bag Finn left behind. I watch Finn and Reid splash around for a minute, before I follow Mitchell to a lone picnic table not far from the dock.
After I set the towels next to the cooler, he asks, “You going in?”
“Sure. I guess. You?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Mitchell takes his shirt off and I draw in a breath. He looks so good, and now I also know how he feels. I want to reach out and touch him but I resist.
Instead, I step out of my shorts and pull off my t-shirt. I’m adjusting my bikini top when I look up to find him watching me, looking as hungry as I am for him.
“Nice suit,” he says.
“It’s old,” I say, fiddling with the bottom.
“You look great in the suit, is what I meant to say.” We exchange a smile that does crazy things to my stomach and nearby parts. “Ready?” He holds his hand out to me and gives mine a squeeze.
Finn is half out of the water, holding onto the dock. Reid is treading water nearby. “C’mon slowpokes,” he calls, giving a whistle, and smiling so broadly it makes my heart sing.
Finn pushes away to give us room. His hair is slicked back, accentuating the strong lines of his face. Water glistens on his tan skin. There is so much beauty among the three of them that it’s sometimes overwhelming.
“Ready?” Mitchell asks, still clutching my hand. I nod. “On three?”
We stand at the edge of the dock, he begins counting, and on three we both jump. I’m smiling as I go in, then the shock of the water temperature hits me. I resurface quickly. “Ahhhh! Oh my god! It’s freezing!”
Reid is nearby, laughing. Mitchell lets go of my hand and rubs my shoulders as he treads water behind me.
“It’s not freezing, it’s refreshing,” Reid says.
I splash a handful of water at him as my teeth chatter.
“You’ll get used to it,” Reid says. He swims closer, puts his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. “Let me warm you up.” He bends over me and presses his lips to mine. His kiss is teasing and delicious, and does indeed warm me from the inside out.
Behind me, Mitchell rubs my back, slipping his hands under the straps of my suit, pulling them off my shoulders.
“I thought we came here to swim,” I say, teasingly.
“We’re just trying to get you warm,” Reid says. He dips his head down just below the water’s surface, nudges my suit aside and takes my nipple into his mouth.
Pleasure radiates from his touch, and I let my head fall back, coming to rest on Mitchell, who’s nuzzling my neck. The water temperature is all but forgotten.
My eyes fly open when I feel a mouth on my other nipple, as Reid continues to suck on my hardened peak. Finn is now bent over me too. I’m surrounded by three gorgeous, wet, slippery men.
“Oh,” I sigh. “Swimming in a lake is so much better than I expected.”
“It’s never been as good as this,” Mitchell says. A hand slips into my bikini bottoms, and though I can’t be sure in our tangle of bodies, I think the hand is Mitchell’s. He continues to whisper in my ear as fingers dip into my folds. I’m wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water, and I moan as he presses against my clit.
“I love watching you come,” Mitchell says, his breath turning harsh against my ear. Finn and Reid are still bent over me, their mouths tugging at my nipples, feeling so good. “I love hearing you come,” Mitchell says, as his fingers spread me open, the sensations intensified by the cool water.
He slides a finger inside me and my body takes it eagerly. “And I love feeling you come, all around me.” Another finger pushes in, spreading me open, while his thumb rubs over my clit. I clutch Finn and Reid’s backs as I begin to lose control. “Come for us, babe,” Mitchell says. He curves his fingers inside me, flicks quickly over my clit, over and over, and I fall apart.
My cries echo over the water as I call out their names. “Yes! Yes!” I cry as I stiffen in their arms. My body pulses around Mitchell’s fingers as the waves of pleasure roll over me. Reid and Finn continue to lick at me, the sensations they trigger making my orgasm last an amazingly long time.
“Oh god! So good!” I cry. Caught up in the overwhelming emotion, the words “I love you” almost slip from my lips, but I manage to stop them. We’re just having fun, and letting them know how I feel about them would ruin everything.
When my orgasm finally subsides, Mitchell turns my head to his and kisses me. “So good,” he says, repeating my words. Reid and Finn each kiss me, and though they’ve just given me so much pleasure, I want more.
“I want you. All of you,” I tell them, as we continue to tangle in the water. They support my body as they tread water, and I reach for them, finding Finn’s hard cock first. I don’t know how this can work, and I doubt that anyone has brought condoms, but I don’t care. I need them.
As I stroke Finn, looking into his eyes, wanting and willing him to take me, there’s a loud noise on land. We go still, and hear it again, a car door slamming.
Mitchell and Reid put a little distance between themselves and me. I adjust my bikini and we all watch the new arrivals. Two men, one young and one old are parked near Finn’s car, a canoe strapped to the top of their small SUV.
“I guess we’ll wait and continue this at home,” Finn says, holding my hand under the water.
“Probably for the
best,” Mitchell says, giving his younger brother a look that prompts Finn to move an arm’s length away from me. The water is suddenly cold again.
“It’s the Nortons,” Reid says.
“You know them?” As soon as I voice the question, I remind myself that everyone knows everyone around here.
“Mitchell went to school with Tim. He and his dad are big fishermen,” Reid says.
We watch as they take down the canoe, load it with gear, and start for the water. Reid and Mitchell swim around the dock to call out greetings, while Finn and I swim further out. After a short conversation, the Nortons continue along the shore with the canoe, moving away from the dock. Further down, they eventually slip into the water and paddle away from shore.
Mitchell and Reid swim out toward us, seeming to get into a friendly competition on the way. “Hungry?” Reid asks when he reaches us.
“Sure,” I say, though I’m more tired than hungry, spent from the incredible orgasm and the stress of almost getting caught that followed it. We start back for the dock, Mitchell hanging back with me while Reid and Finn show off their skills.
Back on land, the mood is different between us, slightly stiff and guarded. The Nortons aren’t close, but in the utter stillness, we can sometimes hear the murmur of the men’s voices and I assume they can hear us.
Reid unpacks sandwiches, chips, and drinks, and we fall around the picnic table. The cold water and the exercise must have had an effect on me because the relatively plain turkey sandwich tastes delicious and I realize I’m actually famished. For several minutes, the four of us are quiet except for the sounds of chewing and drinking.
“Pass the chips,” Reid says, nudging Finn who’s next to him, across from me.
Finn grabs the bag, shakes it, and tips it onto his plate, taking some for himself first. When Reid grabs the bag away from him, I imagine the three of them running around here as young boys, no doubt wrestling, diving, and getting into mischief.
Then I remember what Finn had said in the car. “When my mom was here, did she swim in the lake?” I ask.
Finn smiles to himself before answering. “Yeah, she did. She dipped her foot in first, and had the same reaction you did. It was later in the summer, though, so the water was warmer. Dad ended up pulling her into the water.”
“What did she do?” I ask.
“She laughed. She stayed in for a while.”
I’m quiet as I watch the water, trying to imagine the scene with them in it.
“They always seemed to have a good time together,” Mitchell says, thoughtfully.
“That’s really nice to hear,” I say, glancing at him before looking back to the lake. “You know, I was so surprised when my mom told me she was getting married. And I worried about her, too. But I’m so glad she had your dad, and I’m so glad they were happy together.”
“Yeah, they were happy,” Finn says.
My thoughts are on Mom and Michael for a while. It still hurts like hell that she’s gone, but I find some comfort in the fact that she was probably at her happiest when she went. It some ways, that makes it more painful, but at least she was happy, at least she and Michael had each other.
Will I find a love like that? I glance around at the brothers, all still eating, though slowing down and looking more solemn, probably lost in their own memories. I do love them, but I know it’s not the same.
Among the problems is the fact that I love all of them. Just like my hypothetical “who would I kiss” game, I can’t choose. I’ve kissed them all now — and more — and choosing one brother would be even more impossible now than ever. It’s not a decision I would even try to make.
And even if I didn’t have to choose, if they somehow all loved me in return, what kind of happiness could we have if we had to hide our relationship? Our little close encounter in the water today brought this point home. I can’t imagine being with them, but never being able to touch them in public, or even tell anybody how I felt about them.
Even though the sun is warm on my back, a shiver runs through me. This can never work, and I need to make sure I don’t get in any deeper.
15
Guilt and Shame
The next day at work, I mix up several orders, accidentally overlook a table altogether, and break two plates. Rita pulls me aside to ask what’s wrong, and I tell her I don’t know, even though I do.
I’m in love with my stepbrothers — all three of them — and the thought of leaving them makes me miserable, but I know if I stay, the pain of my eventual heartbreak will continue to multiply. I can’t be with them and turn off my feelings. I can’t tell myself that I’m just “having fun.”
We were together again last night. As soon as we got in the door, they were all over me, and I was all over them. I can’t imagine denying myself that pleasure as long as I’m living with them. We can’t go back to how things were, but I can’t see how we can move forward either.
I weigh my options, and nothing makes me feel better. Do I tell them how I feel, and explain why I can no longer be with them? Should I just leave, cutting my losses now? Do I dare let things continue?
I’m no closer to a decision when I arrive home and find a strange car in the driveway. A vaguely familiar-looking woman is sitting on the porch, looking at her phone.
I call to her when I'm out of my car. “Hi. Can I help you?”
She stands, squints, and watches me approach but doesn't say anything until I'm standing at the bottom of the steps. “Is it… Amy? I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name.”
“April,” I say. “And I'm sorry, but I've forgotten yours, too.” I climb the few steps, my hand outstretched when I reach her.
“Maureen,” she says, “Michael’s sister. Nice to see you again, dear. I didn't realize you would still be staying here.” There's a smile on her face but I detect disapproval in her tone.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I say. My mind races through the rooms of the house, trying to remember if anything incriminating might be lying around — condoms on the nightstand, clothing where it doesn’t belong…
“I wanted to surprise them,” she says. “I felt terrible missing Finn’s graduation.”
“Oh, they don’t know you’re here?”
“I called Mitchell but I got his voicemail,” she says.
“He doesn’t always hear his phone when he’s working. C’mon in,” I say as I unlock the door. I decide that the house should be relatively clean of anything suspicious.
Maureen looks surprised that I’m using a key. “How long have you been staying here?” she asks.
“A couple of months,” I say, wondering why I feel guilty admitting it.
“Oh,” is all she says in response.
I set my purse down on a kitchen chair. “Would you like something cold to drink?”
“That would be lovely.” Maureen looks around the room as she answers me, as if she’s taking a visual inventory.
“Iced tea?”
“Yes, please,” she says, wandering into the living room. I pour myself a glass, too, and hear my phone vibrate in my bag.
Are you home yet? Mitchell writes. Aunt Maureen is there.
Yes and yes, I text.
Be there as soon as I can manage.
Maureen is straightening a picture on the wall when I deliver her drink.
“Did you drive all the way today?” I ask. “You must be tired.”
“I did, but I’m fine. Traffic was light.” She drifts over to the bookshelf and scans its contents.
“That’s good,” I say. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, I’m fine, dear. Where were you off to today?” She turns and scans my outfit — jeans and a blouse — for clues.
“I was working,” I say.
“Working?” Her brows lift high on her forehead.
“Yes,” I say. “I waitress at the café near the university.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess.” She turns back to the bookshelf before continuing
her circuit of the room. I halfway expect her to open the closet and look inside.
“I got a text from Mitchell,” I say. “He should be here soon. I’m going to go take a shower, if there’s nothing I can get you?”
“That’s fine. Go ahead,” she says, with a casual shooing motion of her hand.
I retrieve my purse and gratefully escape upstairs. With relief, I find that my nightstand is clear and no clothes except my own are on my bed.
I take my time showering, wondering how long Maureen will be here. I think I recall hearing that she lives over six hours away, so I expect that she’ll at least be staying overnight.
Instead of feeling better as I wash away the grime from my workday, I grow more and more uneasy. It takes a few minutes to figure out exactly what aspect of their aunt’s visit is making me uncomfortable, but the feeling solidifies when I land on the right word: guilt.
I’ve somehow managed to push aside thoughts of how our parents would have felt about what the four of us have been doing. Actually, I didn’t so much as push those thoughts aside, as shove them deep down and bury them.
Caught up in the moment — so many wonderful moments — and in the idea that we were all making each other feel better, I’d managed to suppress my guilt. But the presence of Michael’s sister — of a relative who would no doubt be horrified if she knew what we’ve been doing — brings the heavy weight of shame crashing down upon me.
However, it does make my way forward become suddenly very clear: We have to stop.
I don’t exactly know yet how I’ll make that happen, but I do know that we can’t go on doing what we’ve been doing.
When I’m done in the bathroom, I’m glad to hear male voices downstairs. I didn’t want to face Maureen again on my own. I get the vibe that she disapproves of me, but I don’t know how much is real, and how much might be me, projecting my own insecurities onto her. Imagine how much she would disapprove if she knew the truth. Disapproval would be much too mild a word.
I linger upstairs for as long as reasonably possible. I keep thinking one of the guys will come up, but they never do, so eventually I venture back down. I find Mitchell, Finn, and Maureen in the kitchen, sitting around the table talking.
Three Brothers: A Menage Romance Page 10