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“Oh, London,” she breathes out.
Chapter Fifteen
The boys don’t make it back till an hour after sunset. Jade and I have the fire going, and we both know it will be a long night with no food. We won’t eat that deer today, and all we have is some leftover smoked animal meat Micah left for us to chew on.
It’s not enough, it’s never enough, but the taste helps me pretend and eases the feeling of my stomach eating itself. They finally finish hanging the carcass, and the ambient temperatures should help keep the meat from spoiling for the few short hours before the sun rises and the boys can do what they need to prepare it. I’m not sure what they did with the wolf—it took all their strength to just bring back the deer.
I’m sitting alone, feeling content, when the three of them come join us, and Maison takes his usual spot next to me. It’s calm now, like before a storm, and I can finally relax for the first time since arriving. As Maison curls up behind me, he slides something into my hand under the blanket.
A bottle of sorts.
I narrow my brows and look at it, and my eyes widen when I see the familiar logo of Jack Daniels. I look up at Maison, who simply grins and arches his brows.
He wraps his hand around my stomach. “Come on, baby. Remember how I wanted to see what you were made of?”
Jesus.
He raises his brows higher, as if daring me to drink it. They must have gotten these from the plane and neglected to tell anyone else.
Fuck it. It can’t possibly make me feel any worse, although I’ve not been much of a drinker. I guzzle the whole shot down in a single gulp, and nearly spit it right back out as the burning drizzles down my throat and into my already queasy stomach.
“Damn, baby.” He laughs, and in the corner of my eye, I see Micah sitting across from me, taking his shot. Once the stinging goes away, my insides fire up, and Maison hands me another.
Looks like we are having a party tonight.
The second goes straight to my head, partly because I barely have meat on my bones, but I like the feeling of how numb it makes me. I ask for one more drink and relish it as Micah and Thomas discuss their deer butchering plan, and Maison and I cozy up to each other.
“Take it easy, baby. You don’t want to get poisoned,” Maison whispers to me.
His words strike like a knife in my heart as I imagine him pouring something into a drink and handing it to Olivia, poisoning her.
I push out the thought… Not right now. Maison would not be capable of that. Nigel had it wrong; he’s a despicable person who assumes others are as wicked as he is, and I refuse to think this way about my boyfriend.
Eventually, Jade and Thomas tell us good night, leaving me alone with Micah and Maison. Ignoring the nagging feeling in my belly, I sip on the third shot until my vision blurs, and I suddenly have the urge to dance. I rise and stand in front of Maison, shredding my sweater, leaving me only in my tank top and loose sweats as the fire rages behind me. I sway my hips over him, landing them at his eye level, and he immediately places his hands on me, tickling the drawstring of my pants with his thumbs. I give him a little show, knowing Micah is right behind me. Arching my back, running my hands through my hair, I smile down at Maison, liking the thought of Micah watching.
I dance… For the first time in a year, I dance. It feels good to let go. Letting life happen to me again instead of fighting it—hating it.
Maison rises and joins me, sneaking around to the back of me, placing his hands around my mid-section. I sway to the sound of the fire and close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his warmth and safety behind me, letting my hair flow with the wind. It takes no time to feel a hard body in front of me. I stop swaying for a moment and take in Micah staring at me—my lips, my chest, all of me. I know exactly why Maison gave me the shots as I see the flicker in Micah’s dark eyes.
Maison’s lubricating me, and it’s working.
My vision blurs and I close my eyes, knowing they won’t let me fall, enjoying the heat on my face and the beat of my song in my ears as I replay a soft melody I used to dance to. Something I didn’t realize I missed so much.
Hands grab me from behind, and I turn around, leaning up to meet Maison’s lips. I kiss him hard, slipping my tongue inside his mouth as his hands reach down and grip my lower back. We sway and I pretend we are somewhere else, like at a club in the city where we can leave to go home after and spend the night in his bedroom, not the hard, wet forest floor. I turn around and press myself into him, the edge of my reality and senses dulled.
I dance like I used to when I liked to be looked at. I’m hyper aware of both of them now as I run my hands over my curves. Micah steps toward me and grabs my waist, saying nothing, but I can feel his desire for me.
I finally get to feel him.
We dance for a few minutes like this. I press myself inside each of them, arching my hips to make sure I touch each one. Maison’s hands slide down the front of my sweats, and I gasp as I feel his fingers slip inside me, pushing the fabric of my thong to the side.
“Fucking hell, baby,” Maison whispers, leaning into me. “You are so wet for us. We both want to fuck you right now. Will you let us do it together?”
Heat pulses through my veins as Micah steps back, waiting for my response, which I don’t give.
I knew this was coming… I was warned from the beginning.
Am I ready for this?
