20
GOLDIE
Robert and Hunter headed out after breakfast, taking my keys with them. I’m quick in the shower and I have no alternative but to wear my overalls to leave the house with Evan.
Going home to pack an overnight bag seems so strange, but I guess I have no choice about that, either. The whole situation makes me feel emotional.
“It’ll be okay,” Evan says as I wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
“It was my dream,” I whisper. “A small and pathetic dream, I guess.”
“No dreams are small and pathetic.” Evan reaches out to rest his hand on my knee. “But you’re not facing this alone. We’re here, okay? It’ll all get dealt with.”
There’s a seriousness to his tone that makes me wonder if he’s referring to more than just the store. If it was arson, how am I ever going to get everything resolved? I can’t go back to the store if I’m truly in danger.
“What happened to the guy in the woods?”
Evan fiddles with the radio dial and selects some soft country music, killing time. “You ever read a fairy story, getting halfway through before wanting to close the book and never open it again?”
“Yes,” I say. “Hansel and Gretel.”
Evan nods. “That one’s particularly dark. Can I just say that I’ve closed the book? That way, you can be sure that finding out the end of the story isn’t what you really want.”
I nod, even though he’s piqued my curiosity. Speaking about this with Robert felt manageable but Evan’s more of an unknown quantity. I’m worried about opening up a can of worms I won’t be able to contain.
“So, you should collect everything you’ll need. We won’t be coming back here for a while.”
“A while? That sounds like a long and unspecified amount of time.”
“It is,” Evan says. “And I’m not down with Hunter’s caveman approach. These are different days, and we need to be mindful of that. There’s no way I’d want to make you do anything you didn’t want to do.” He glances at me, taking his eyes off the road to check on my reaction. “But I believe you’re our destiny, Goldie. We’ve met a lot of women in the past and done a lot of things, but we’ve never had the same reaction to any of them as we’ve had to you. You’ve got to understand that we haven’t chosen this for ourselves, and to be honest, we wouldn’t choose it for you. It just is, as it has always been. For us, it’s something we’ve been expecting. For you, I understand that it’s difficult to get your head around.”
“Let’s just say my life was one way a few days ago, and now it’s a whole other way. I feel like I’ve stumbled into another dimension, and I’m me, just different. The world looks the same, but it’s not.”
Evan shrugs. “Maybe you should consider it this way. No one is exactly what they seem. You meet someone, and they put on their best behavior, then you get to know them, and their genuine character starts to show through. With us, it’s more than just character. It’s a physical difference, but you’re aware of it up front. Now it’s just about getting familiar with the rest of us. I promise you’re going to love us. We’re made for each other, after all.”
His grin is broad, and I notice he has a slight dimple when he smiles widely. His hands are loose on the steering wheel, and they’re just the same as Robert’s in size and coloring. Hands just like those have touched me everywhere. A face like that has looked at me with so much fierce lust that I thought I could melt. He’s the same, but different. Lightness and humor to Robert’s serious intensity. “Even Hunter?” I say, then realize I’ve kind of admitted that I already like Evan and Robert.
Evan chuckles. “Even Hunter. On the surface he’s an arrogant, entitled ass, but underneath, he has a heart of gold.”
“Yeah. That part is buried down deep right now.”
We’re close to my apartment, and I start mentally noting what I need to collect. Will Evan come up or wait in the car? Do I want him to come into my home?
He parks outside and turns to me. “You want some help?” The fact that he’s asked is a good sign and demonstrates that he’s not automatically overstepping. If it was Hunter, he’d be out the door already, assuming I need his help. I like Evan’s approach. He has the same kind of respectful attitude as Robert.
Unlocking the door to my home feels strange. I’ve only been gone for half a day, but there’s the same unfamiliar feeling to it as after a two-week vacation. Evan follows me inside, and I watch him gazing around out of the corner of my eye. My home is eclectic for sure. Lots of old furniture teamed with bright modern art and white walls. I love it, and it’s certainly different from the Bjorns’ ancestral mansion.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” I say.
In my bedroom, I grab my small suitcase and pack jeans, sweaters, underwear, and nightwear. It’s hard to predict what I’m going to need, so I pack what I’d wear if I were going on a weekend break, minus the little black dress. We’re not going to be going out for dinner under the circumstances. As I’m packing, my mind whirs over my situation. Evan’s close but I have a moment alone and in my space. The blank notepad on my nightstand blinks bright and white. I grab for the pen, writing a quick note about where I am, my eyes constantly flicking to the doorway. When I’m done, I stuff it into the drawer, leaving it like the breadcrumbs Hansel and Gretel scattered in the forest. If something happens to me, maybe someone will find it.
I rifle through my paperwork, finding my business folder with all the insurance details, stuffing the ball of anxiety lower in my chest. The folder fits in the suitcase, and I zip it up before realizing I’ve forgotten my makeup and bathroom items. By the time I’m finished, I’m hot and dry in the mouth. Before I can lift the suitcase off the bed, Evan is at the door.
“Let me get that.” His eyes scan over my bedroom, fixing on my wrought iron bed. I wasn’t expecting visitors, and the set of handcuffs that I use when I indulge in my private fantasies are still hanging from the metal. Trust him to notice. The grin on his face is the widest it’s ever been.
“You like handcuffs?”
I nod, as a blush spreads across my cheeks like wildfire. I turn and start to tidy my bedroom, wanting to leave it neat, and needing distraction. As I’m pulling the comforter to remove the wrinkles, I feel Evan’s hand on my hip.
“There’s no need for you to be embarrassed in front of me,” he says. His finger grazes my cheek and jaw, his eyes drifting languidly over my face and lower. “You’ve seen the room we made for you. You’ve seen what we like.”
I turn to gaze up at him, my mouth going dry as I meet his whiskey eyes. “It’s not something I’ve ever been open about before.”
Evan’s eyes darken like Roberts, becoming liquid and intense.
“We’re perfect for each other.” His voice turns gravely and low and is filled with intent. His lids lower, and he licks his lips. There’s a hungriness about him that makes me shiver. Would he fuck the same as his brother? Would his hands feel the same on my flesh? Would his cock stretch me as perfectly and find the sweet spot that makes my legs tremble?
It feels wrong to feel attracted to him when I’ve been intimate with his brother, but they’re so alike that my boundaries feel muddled. At one time, the Bjorn brothers were all one. Now they’re divided into three and the wonder of it is overwhelming.
Robert said they want to share me, but could I ever feel right dividing myself that way? If I kiss Evan, will it feel good, or will it feel like a betrayal? And Hunter…well, Evan’s suggesting I’ll fall for him, too, if I take time to get past his brutish exterior. How would that feel?
Sharing is an abstract term. It could mean so many things. Would each night be allocated to a single person, or would they expect something more open and carnal? Do these three bear-men want to watch each other fuck me? Do they want to restrain me and torture me with pleasure at the same time? Robert, exerting control over me was perfect. Add his two brothers and it could become overwhelming.
I should ask, but how?
“Perfect,” I murmur. “Perfectly weird.”
Evan tips my chin up, forcing me to look him right in the eyes. “One day, you’ll accept yourself for the way you are. You won’t look at the things you like as wrong and shameful. You’ll embrace all the wonderful facets of yourself with pride.”
“Like Robert does?”
Evan grimaces. “We’ve been waiting for you for a long time, and it has taken its toll on each of us in different ways. Robert has self-doubt. Hunter is impatient.”
“And you?”
Evan blinks. “I guess I just make light of everything to offset my brothers’ angst.”
He’s remarkably self-aware. What’s my flaw? Keeping people at arm’s length? Distrusting? Not being open to truly sharing myself?
Rosie’s choice for my spirit animal pops into my head. It doesn’t fit with any of those traits, and I realize suddenly that I’ve twisted and coiled myself into becoming something different so I can make it through. I’ve become tough because my parents spent so much time trying to change me. I’ve become rigid in my approach to letting others into my life for fear of disappointment. Even my fascination with locks feels strange when viewed through this lens. I crave the loss of control when the lock has turned because only when I’m released do I feel truly free.
How messed up is that?
Evan talks like my arrival into their lives will finally free them. Is that what it’ll be like for me? I can’t imagine how being shackled to three men I haven’t chosen would do that, but then I remember how it felt to be cradled in Robert’s arms last night. The freedom in surrendering to his concept of my destiny. The rightness of our connection. I study Evan, discovering all the tiny traits that make him different from his brother. The way his cheeks dimple, the softer curl of his mahogany hair, the shorter trim of his beard. His eyes are different too, like they sparkle from within.
The air between us is charged, and it isn’t just about my mind and body already familiar with a man who looks and talks just like Evan. It’s about this man. It’s about the way he makes me feel lighter and happier, the way he can turn any situation into something brighter. It’s because he puts me at ease about all the things that rest like jagged shapes inside me. It’s the way he’s looking at me like I’m the solution to everything that’s ever been wrong in his world.
When he kisses me, it’s a tentative brush of his lips, a test of my responses. My heart stutters and lodges beneath my throat. It should feel wrong to kiss the brother of the man I slept with last night, but it doesn’t. It feels familiar and warm, like the last of the sun casting its heat and glow on my skin after a long day at the beach. There are differences too; the slower slide of his tongue, the way he draws back, sucking my bottom lip so I feel it in my clit. His hand goes to my neck, cupping my lower jaw. His fingers tangle in my hair as he kisses me deeper. All the nerves awaken over my scalp as his fingers play with my hair.
It’s explicit and sweet until it isn’t.
There’s no gentle build-up now. Evan’s hands move to grip my ass, and he yanks me against him, his cock a rigid bar between us. Then before I can adjust, he lifts me so my legs grip his waist, and my pussy slots against his dick. I cling onto his neck as he practically tosses me onto the bed, kneeling over me and yanking the zipper on my overalls. I’m wearing nothing beneath, and his eyes light up like fire at the sight of my breasts. My nipples are tight and dark, bruised and tender from the clamps, and he uses his thumb and forefinger to test their hardness with gentle care.
“Shit,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You really are perfect. Except you need to get these clothes off right now.”
All my reservations are lost, and I wiggle my arms from my overalls, leaving Evan to take over. He yanks them over my waist and thighs until I’m naked beneath him. With fascination, he strokes the blonde curls between my legs, his thumb grazing my clit just enough to get my hips wriggling. “I’m hungry,” he says. “Can I eat?” Evan nuzzles my ear, kissing my neck before he begins to slide down my body.
Oh shit. No man has ever put it quite like that before. He makes me sound like I’m delicious.
There’s something about oral sex that's way more intimate than penetration. Having someone so close to your most intimate place, smelling, and tasting a private part of you can feel awkward, but it doesn’t with Evan. He breathes me in like I’m fragrant and sweet, and when his tongue parts my labia, licking from my clit to my opening, he moans to confirm that I’m delicious. Oh God, he eats me like he’s starving, as though he’s been waiting for this meal his whole life. I feel the same way. He maps my body so quickly that I’m teetering on the edge of coming within a minute. “Oh… oh… fuck… don’t stop!” I gasp, pulling his hair, not sure if I need more or less to finish me off.
But before I come, he pulls back. There’s a wicked gleam in his eye that exudes confidence. “You think I’m going to make it so easy for you, Goldie? As much as I’d love you to come on my face and taste your pleasure, I’m going to make you wait.”
I groan, desperate for the slide of his hot tongue again, but I’m not going to get it. He’s still fully clothed as he grabs a silk scarf from the end of my bed and binds my hands. “We have everything we need to keep you happy at home, but right now, I’m going to have to improvise.”
He puts his arm under my body and moves me so my arms are raised above my head just enough for him to attach the cuffs on the headboard to the scarf between my hands. Even this improvised restraint sets me off. My pussy’s hot and so achy for his touch. I need his cock to push deep inside me. I need him to fuck me while he holds me down so that I can feel his control and power and my submission.
I need him to set me free.
Oh God, if we were back at his house, the things he could do to me. Would he be the same as Robert, using his hands and toys? Would he kiss me after and soothe my hurt? I want to discover more about this man, the similarities and differences to his brothers, his hopes and dreams, his light and his dark, and everything in between.
Evan strokes down my body, using his palms first, then his fingers, then just the edge of one nail to trace my curves. I writhe, needing more but loving the tease.
“STILL.” His voice is commanding. “You don’t get to move. Just take what I give you, you understand?” I nod, my throat closing with anticipation.
“Say yes. I want to hear that you understand.”
“Yes.” It sounds strangled, and I can tell that Evan loves the effect he’s having on me.
“If you want me to stop at any time, you say—”
“Porridge,” I interrupt.
He grins wickedly. “Look at the marks my brother left.” He strokes the red lines left by the cane and the whip. It’s nothing extreme, but still visible if you’re looking for it, and Evan is.
“I deserved it,” I say.
“I’m sure you did. Robert doesn’t punish just anyone…not like that. What else did he do to you?”
I blink, inhaling sharply. Is it okay for me to tell Evan his brother’s sexual secrets? Evan notices my hesitation.
“Did he slide something into this?” He runs his hand over my hips and under my ass where I’m still a little sore from the plug. I squirm as he pushes rhythmically in a way that makes my whole body flush. I nod, and Evan smiles wickedly. “Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure you did. It was something small, wasn’t it? Robert wouldn’t push you too far, at least not the first time.”
Evan doesn’t wait for a response. He undresses, tugging his shirt over his head with one slick movement. His chest and arms are something to behold. He is as strong and broad as his brother, but different, too. He’s smoother there, and the roundness of his pecs is more visible. My hands wiggle in their restraints, eager to touch him, but I can’t. The sound of metal on metal when he unbuckles his belt is perfect. The swish of leather as he frees it from his jeans sends a shiver down my spine. Will he use it on me? I have nothing else here, just a load of fantasies locked deep in my mind. Fantasies that he’s unlocking one step at a time.
Will he be as alike as his brother in bed as he is in appearance? He holds his spoon differently, and he sits differently. His smile is different, as are his other facial expressions. The way he leans down when he talks to me is unique, too. So when he owns my body in new ways, I’m only a little surprised.
His hands are harsh when they grab at me, but he doesn’t punish me like Robert. Instead, he fucks with my mind. “I own you, little Goldie,” he whispers. “You’re mine now from this sweet mouth—” His thumb strokes my bottom lip and pushes inside, pressing down on my tongue. “To these—” He grazes his palm over my tight nipples, sending goosebumps blooming across my skin. “To this.” He gives my clit a featherlight caress that makes me gasp. “You’re ours, and we’re never letting you go.”
“No,” I whisper weakly as arousal trickles out of me. “No.” I can’t be owned. I’m a person. A very independent person. I like to go where I want, when I want. I enjoy my company and spending time with friends. I’m not a woman who wants to belong to anyone, but my mind enjoys the dark threat, and my body is putty in his hands.
He chuckles darkly, enjoying my resistance, even as my mind explodes at his words.
“We’re going to keep you locked in that room so we can use you again and again until you’re begging for more… for less… until you’re so mindless you can no longer speak at all.”
When he slides inside me, pinning my thighs wide and watching every inch disappear, it feels like he’s claiming me. It feels like he owns me. It feels like I belong to him.
He fucks me with merciless precision, all the laugher and lightheartedness replaced with grit, determination, and ferocity. My hands are twisted up in the silk scarf, and my shoulders ache from the tension. The power in his body makes my head swim. The tightness in his grip hurts as he holds my hips and fucks into me hard, but I don’t stop him. I can’t. The word porridge rests on the tip of my tongue, but I’d never say it. I don’t need a safe word. Not when everything Evan is doing is my fantasy come to life. He knows when I’m getting close because I beg. “Please… please… Evan… don’t stop.” He laughs at my high-pitched pleas, resting his hand against my throat and twisting my head until I have no choice but to look into his eyes.
“This orgasm belongs to me,” he hisses. “This body is mine and all the pleasure I give it is mine, too.”
“Yes,” I gasp. In my lust and pleasure-soaked mind, everything is possible.
I come like a river, wetness leaking from me, making Evan’s thrusts noisy with moisture. He doesn’t stop. His hips are punishing, using me to find his own release, and when he comes, the growl he makes is all bear.
His body arches like a grizzly rearing up, and he fills my vision. I blink up at him, as his expression twists, fierce at first, then softer as pleasure slides through him.
Pleasure that I gave him.
The moments after are as different as night and day. In the same way as Robert, Evan is tender after his cruelty. He releases my hands and presses kisses to my wrists. He licks my sore nipples and strokes over the flesh of my ass that he squeezed too tightly. He tells me I’m beautiful and perfect, and I believe him because it’s how I feel—ripe and ready to burst open.
My body is a vessel of pleasure, and it’s good. Great, even.
But underneath all of that, my heart swells.
I can’t help it. I wish I could separate my emotions, but it’s never been easy for me. With sex comes a connection that's more than just sweat-slicked bodies and physical urgency.
I like this man. Care for him, even. There’s a tenderness in his fingertips that's as mystifying as it is beautiful—so little time together and yet so much feeling.
Is this what they mean about destiny? I was born on a bear moon, and that means I was made for these men as much as they were made for me? How much simpler would life be if this happened to everyone? There’d be no divorce or separation. Life would be a patchwork of people stitched together by more than just temporary lust and emotion.
It may sound foolish, like the musings of a teenager, but I like the idea that I was born for them. It makes me feel special, secure. It makes all my floundering around about whether to accept what makes me tick, or bury it for good, seem foolish.
If these men are here to accept me for everything I am because I’m destined for them, how stupid would I be not to give them the chance?
I lie on my bed with this man who can make me laugh in surprising ways.
“Goldie, baby,” he whispers against my ear, laughing in a gushing way that feels equal parts relief and happiness, and I laugh, too.
My life is falling apart, but at this moment, all I feel is joy, even though I don’t understand what the hell is happening.