Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
It’s past midnight. The last few hours at the restaurant were hectic, and now the deserted parking lot outside underlines the eerie quiet of the night.
I glance outside through a gap in the curtains, then quickly pull them shut.
Nobody’s out there.
Throughout the shift, Tally tried to talk to me, apologizing for her earlier words.
I managed a strained smile and told her it was fine.
But truthfully, I struggled through those hours.
I wanted nothing more than to be here, in my sanctuary, away from prying eyes.
Now that I’m alone, I can’t shake the chaos in my mind.
I mull over Tally’s words, Nash’s comments, and what I truly want.
I’ve always said I couldn’t choose, thinking they’d ask me to one day.
But have I ever considered whether I want to be with all of them?
In theory, yes, but reality paints a different picture.
It’s not so simple because even if Tally’s words hurt, they rang true.
But if it’s just about what I want, then yes, I want this. I want this so damn much.
I lay down on the bed, watching the fairy lights twinkle, the soft hum of the radio in the background doing nothing to lull me to sleep. Thoughts about all of them are swirling in my head—Saylor’s grin, Nash’s skilled touch, Hunter’s kisses, North’s eyes filled with fire.
I close my eyes, letting out a long breath. I need to relax and be free of some pent-up stress.
My hand starts to wander between my thighs, and my other hand slips under my shirt, cupping my breast.
In my mind, North is holding my chin, telling me to behave while he pushes his thumb into my mouth. Nash is behind me, fingering me while I am stroking both Saylor and Hunter’s cocks, who stand to my left and right.
“Fuck,” I whimper out, my toes curling as my pleasure builds.
Circling my clit, I almost feel all their eyes on me, scanning my body like a caress. I’m so wet, panting, and so close to coming.
“Such a good girl for us,” Fantasy North praises.
“Attagirl,” Nash chimes in from behind me, giving me his cock now, inch by inch.
I moan, tensing up, just as an engine pulls up, and the echo of car doors closing just outside jerks me out of my lusty haze.
Fuck.
I pull my hands out of my clothes and sit up, listening intently. Hunter’s voice floats in, tinged with doubt. “Do you think this is a good idea?”
What’s a good idea?
Nash’s voice follows, laced with frustration. “I don’t know, man. She’s in there, spiraling, overthinking everything. That’s not good for her or us.”
Hunter sounds agitated. “So ambushing her is the better option?”
Nash exhales, a sound of exasperation. “I don’t know, Hunt. I’m open to suggestions, but since you have none, let’s just knock and find out.”
I can’t fucking lie to myself anymore. I want them all. I just proved it to myself, fantasizing about all of them at the same time. I’m probably running toward a wall, head first, since this is bound to end in a catastrophe, but it’s so exhausting keeping them out when all I want is to let them in.
So I do.
I stand, pushing the sliding door open. Nash and Hunter stand there, Nash’s hand raised as if to knock. “You guys know a van isn’t soundproof, right?” I question with a hint of amusement in my voice.
Hunter blushes. “Hey, uh… can we come in?”
“Sure,” I reply, stepping back. They squeeze into the van, the space cramped now. Nash has to crouch slightly, but Hunter looks truly uncomfortable in the small space, and I can’t help but feel sorry for him.
“Sit down, Hunter,” I suggest. Gratefully, he settles on the edge of the bed, still at my eye level.
“Thanks,” he grunts out.
“Where’s Satan?” I ask, making Nash chuckle.
“Home with Lio. I told him not to go in for the end of your shift since you wanted space, and he agreed reluctantly.” With a gentle motion, Nash cups my cheek. “Since you heard why we’re here, how are you doing? Are you spiraling?”
Well, I absolutely did, but not in the way he’s thinking.
But I did overthink the situation for the rest of the evening, so he’s not wrong.
“I’m fine,” I lie, avoiding his intense gaze with those ocean blue eyes that seem to pierce into my soul.
Hunter, reading my discomfort, gently grips my hips and guides me onto his lap. He whispers close to my ear, “I don’t believe you.”
The words catch in my throat. “I don’t know, it’s just... I am weird, aren’t I?”
“Why?” Hunter asks, not dismissing my concerns but inviting me to explain.
I take a deep breath. “I never thought this could happen. I was so convinced we had no future. That you guys would never agree to this. I was sure it would all blow up, and then I’d just leave.”
Wait, Hunter never said he was in. I just assumed because Nash said…
Hunter’s hold on my hip tightens reassuringly. “You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs with a conviction that steadies my racing heart.
“I never fully considered what it would mean for you guys or how others would see it…” I trail off, my thoughts clouded with doubt.
“Fuck what others think,” Nash interjects sharply.
“They will think I’m weird, that you guys are weird,” I caution, leaning back into Hunter’s embrace, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
Nash leans in, his tone softening. “You’ve always been seen as weird, right? Does it really matter why?”
Ouch.
“Nash,” Hunter exclaims, a mix of surprise and mild reproach in his voice.
“No, hear me out,” Nash continues. “I know it’s shit they say stuff like that, but, let’s be honest, people talk no matter what. And at least you being with the three of us will not land you in an institution or shit.”
Not until they find out that I’m with their dead brother too.
I probably should tell them that little tidbit before this goes further but not right now.
The room falls silent. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Hunter staring at Nash in disbelief.
“Did you really just say that?” Hunter asks, a hint of incredulity in his voice.
“So, your advice is, fuck them all?” I ask, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
“That’s always his advice,” Hunter murmurs.
“No, pretty girl, the advice is, if you’re weird, then we are weird.
If being with you makes me weird, then I wanna be weird.
What’s so wrong with being weird?” I tense up, and Hunter’s thumb starts to stroke my hip, trying to reassure me.
“Nothing is wrong with being different. Being like everyone else is the wrong thing. Living a life you don’t wanna live because the opinion of others matters more than your own, that’s wrong. ”
I nod silently, lost in thought. Hunter’s hand gently strokes my back, a soothing rhythm. Nash leans down, lifting my chin and planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Let’s talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me. Their presence has calmed the storm in my mind. For now, I just need to sleep.
Nash strips down to his boxers and T-shirt, making me press my thighs together, still wet from before and causing me to raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” I ask, just as he slides into bed next to us.
“Fucking sleeping.” He yawns, stretching out comfortably.
“But this bed isn’t even big enough for two,” I protest, but Hunter sets me down beside him before standing and shedding his sweater. Then he carefully removes his prosthetic and sleeve, catching my surprised gaze with a smirk. “Get into bed, Shortcake,” he commands.
I comply, climbing up next to Nash. Hunter follows, and it’s undeniably tight. “See? I told you three’s a crowd.”
Nash pulls me to his chest, squeezing me to him. “At least it’s warm.” He smirks, grabbing my right hand, pulling it to his mouth, and kissing my palm.
But he freezes, breathing deeply before he eyes me with a glint of mischief. I want to pull my hand back, but his grip tightens, and he brings my fingers to his mouth, the ones I was fingering myself with, sucking both in with a groan before he lets them pop out of his mouth again.
The move goes straight to my pussy, making me clench, and the throbbing starts anew.
“What were you just doing, pretty girl?” Nash’s voice is rough, making me shiver. “Did you just play with yourself? Play with that perfect little pussy?”
“Holy shit,” Hunter blurts out behind me, and I feel how he shifts to his side.
I can’t do anything but nod, feeling caught, my pulse hammering.
Nash’s gaze bores into mine as he asks, “Who did you think about while you touched yourself?”
A blush spreads on my cheeks, and I look away, but he reaches out to grab my chin, making me look up at him. “Tell me.”
“You,” I whisper, and he lets out an appreciative grumble. “All of you.”
“Fuck,” Hunter curses under his breath while Nash’s thumb comes to stroke over my bottom lip.
“Did you come?” Nash asks, tilting his head. The curiosity in his eyes mixed with desire. I shake my head. “Did we interrupt?” This time, I nod. “Seems like I owe you an orgasm, Siren.”
My heart leaps in my chest when Nash turns me so my back is against his chest, his hand slipping under my shirt. His other hand slips into my leggings, where my hands were only minutes ago.
“Nash,” I protest in a whisper while I’m facing Hunter, his eyes hungry on mine, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me.
“He can watch. You don’t mind, don’t you, brother?” Nash snickers and Hunter shoots a glare over my head.
His gaze softens again when his eyes come back to mine, “You do owe her an orgasm, it seems.”
Oh my god.
Nash starts to move, rolling my nipple while his other hand glides over my slit, groaning when he dives deeper and finds me already soaking. “Fuck, you were close, weren’t you?” he whispers in my ear.
I nod, slightly whimpering as he slides a finger inside me, circling my clit with his thumb.
Hunter’s eyes are fixed on mine, but I want him to watch me and see what Nash is doing to me and what his eyes are doing to me.
So I reach up and pull my shirt up, exposing my tits and Nash’s hands on me.
“Look at me,” I whisper to Hunter, who closes his eyes briefly on an exhale before zeroing in on my chest.
“Hunter said he’s not into fucking you while I’m there too, but it looks like we could change his mind tonight,” Nash whispers, his voice just audible to me.
The thought of having both of them at the same time makes me squirm even more, and Nash’s hold on me tightens while his fingers move faster. He presses his hips to me, and I can feel his hard-on pressed to my ass.
My tits are wiggling with how much I’m squirming on Nash’s fingers, and Hunter’s gaze on me feels like a caress, bringing me even faster to the edge.
“I can’t… I think I…” I whimper, my breaths coming in pants.
“Shh, we know, pretty girl. We want you to come. Come all over my fingers… come for us,” Nash urges.
I whimper, on the brink and trembling, before coming apart on a wave of pleasure, loudly moaning when Hunter reaches out to grip my chin and leans in to steal the moan off my lips, kissing me deeply and sucking in my tongue. I shudder, but Nash doesn’t stop moving his fingers.
Then Hunter breaks the kiss, letting me come up for air, panting, and Nash’s finger slows on my clit until he stops, pulling them out of my leggings.
“Attagirl,” he praises as he kisses my temple, and I hear him lick me off his fingers once more. “Was that good?”
I nod, still slightly panting and spent. Hunter then reaches out to pull my shirt down and cover me again.
Fuck, that was amazing and better than any fantasy.
“Thank you,” I say to them.
Smiling in response, Hunter suddenly pulls me out of Nash’s arms and on top of him, chest to chest, making me yelp in surprise.
“Unfair, I wanna have her.” Nash reaches for my hand, his tone playful.
“You just had her, and I have birthday privileges,” Hunter counters softly, pulling me close, my head nestled under his chin, his hand soothingly stroking my hair.
“Ah fuck, true. It’s past midnight. Happy birthday, bro.” Nash yawns, his sleepiness contagious.
I try to lean back to look at Hunter, but he holds me in place, so I whisper, “Happy birthday,” into his neck.
He gently kisses the top of my head, his hand wandering under my shirt to caress my back. “Best birthday ever,” he murmurs contentedly.