43 - Haven
HAVEN
The blizzard rolled on, sweeping the outside world away. It erased our footprints, our snowballs; all evidence of our time together, during the brief lull between storm fronts.
By the time we made it to the old study —which the Reavers had transitioned into full blown gym — the windows were completely swallowed. Snow pressed thick against the glass, muting the outside world into something distant and irrelevant.
Inside?
It was loud.
Metal clanged. Boots thudded. Breath came hard and fast.
Ares drove the bar up like Mercer had personally ordered him to suffer. Again. And again. And again.
“Easy,” Sebastian said from the bench beside him. “It’s not Sutherland.”
Ares didn’t answer. He just racked the weight harder than necessary.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re murdering iron,” Sebastian said. “Loudly.”
Grayson didn’t even look up from where he was working the cable machine.
“Let him,” he said. “Better than him hitting one of us.”
Ares cracked his neck.
“That’s still on the table.”
“Good to know,” Sebastian muttered.
I picked up the pace on the treadmill, watching the whole thing. I admired the way they moved. The way they burned through it, without hesitation.
I also noticed that something darker had settled, under all that focus.
And of course, I couldn’t help but notice them.
Ares lifted so smoothly and effortlessly he was like a well-oiled machine.
Watching those thick pectorals crush together during his dumbbell flyes was doing something to me I couldn’t explain.
Ditto for Sebastian’s shoulder presses, which flexed every delicious muscle across his glistening, shirtless back.
But it was Grayson’s arm extensions that nearly had me flying off the back of the treadmill. He did them slowly, with crushingly heavy weight. Flexing and unflexing his biceps and triceps, until he’d pumped them into yummy-looking rock formations rather than actual muscle.
I got caught looking more than once, before I realized I didn’t have to pretend not to.
Not after last night.
Not after our little agreement during breakfast.
So I kept running, soaking it in. My eyes wandered happily, letting my sex-addled mind take all the mental Polaroids it wanted, for future reference.
There was a loud bang as Grayson’s latest set finally reached failure, slamming the weights together as he stepped back from the machine. At the same time, Ares slammed another set of plates home.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“No,” Ares answered.
Honest. Like always.
Sebastian sat up, rolling his shoulders.
“Same.”
“We will,” Grayson chimed in.
Ares glanced at him.
“When?”
Grayson didn’t hesitate.
“When we play them.”
“You mean when we destroy them,” Ares grumbled.
His words hung heavily in the stillness, between sets.
“Yeah.”
“Alright,” Sebastian chuckled. “Great. Love the murder energy. Let’s keep that going.”
They did keep it going — for another forty-five minutes, at least. The treadmill was kicking my ass. Especially since Sebastian and Grayson kept tag-teaming the incline button whenever I was distracted.
And I was distracted a lot.
Ares racked the squat bar one last time, drained his water bottle, and draped a towel over his neck. Against his massive shoulders, it looked like a washcloth.
“I’m done,” he grunted. “At least until later.”
“Me too,” Sebastian sighed. “What now?”
Grayson glanced toward me. I raised a brow.
“Don’t look at me.”
“You’re the one in charge today,” he said.
“I am not in charge.”
“You overruled Mercer.”
“Because you idiots wanted to watch Rocky Four instead of doing your jobs.”
“That still feels like the better option,” Sebastian said.
“It wasn’t,” I shot back.
“Debatable.”
Ares stepped closer. Too close. Always too close now.
“Then what is the better option?” he asked.
That look again. The one that didn’t ask a question.
It suggested something.
I pressed a button and the treadmill slowed to a stop. My heart was still beating a mile a minute, though. And not just from the run.
“Shower,” I said, decisively. “All of you.”
Sebastian blinked.
“… together?”
“No.”
A beat.
“Unless you’re into that,” I chuckled.
“Depends,” said Grayson. His gaze dipped as low as my thighs for a moment, before crawling up again. “Are you coming too?”
Damn.
A few days ago, the answer would’ve been easy.
“I—I dunno, maybe?” I stammered. “Possibly? I have to think.”
I averted my eyes shyly for a moment. It didn’t make sense, really, but it’s all I could do.
“Yeah, well don’t think for too long,” Grayson smirked. He nodded at my sweat-soaked outfit. “Soon you’re gonna smell like that time a raccoon died in the hot house.”
Ares made a choking noise. Like the memory had gagged him.
“And you do not want that,” Grayson chuckled.
They turned and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And my thoughts were fucked up. Really fucked up.
I stood there for a moment, staring around the gym. Their scent still lingered, long after the silence settled in.
There’s three of them, Haven.
Oh, I was aware. I was very, very aware.
And you’ve been with all of them.
I didn’t know whether to feel proud or frightened. Or proudly frightened. Or—
A gust of wind rattled the snow-covered windows. It cast shifting shadows across the old study, as I struggled for ideas on what to do next.
You know exactly what to do nex—
I covered my ears against my own internal voice, and made my way into the kitchen. The house was a lot warmer than it should be. The old radiators ticked constantly, like the place was trying to overcompensate for the storm working to bury it alive.
I pulled my sweatshirt over my head. I could pretty much wring it out at this point.
It was too hot. Too much.
Too—
“Stripping down without us?”
I turned at the sound of the voice.
Sebastian.
“How fast did you shower?” I asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Then why are you—”
He stepped into me, pinning me against the counter. His kisses were aggressive, but not rushed. I should’ve felt sweaty and self-conscious. Hesitant. Careful…
Yeah, right.
For a minute or two we were all over each other, making out like teenagers.
His hands were everywhere — my waist, my hips, sliding up my sides like he couldn’t decide where he wanted me most. I felt the heat of him through what little fabric was left between us, solid and unrelenting, and it sent a shiver straight through me that had nothing to do with the storm.
“You didn’t even try to wait,” I murmured against his mouth.
“Didn’t want to,” he said, voice rough.
“That’s becoming a theme.”
“Yeah?” His lips dragged along my jaw, down to my neck. “You complaining?”
My breath didn’t come out steady.
“Not even a little.”
His hands tightened on my hips, lifting me high enough to settle me upon the edge of the counter. The movement was smooth, confident — like he’d already decided exactly how this was going to go.
That shouldn’t have done anything for me.
It did.
“You’re going to get us caught,” I said, even as my hands slid up his shoulders.
“By who?” he asked.
“Ares. Grayson. Take your pick.”
He laughed into my breasts, which by now were bare.
“Let them hear.”
Fuck.
That was such a fucking turn on.
I went wild after that; my fingers curling into his hair, pulling him back to my mouth.
Kissing him even harder this time, before shoving him into my breasts again.
There was no hesitation left between us — no careful pacing or second-guessing.
Just heat, and need, and the way everything between us had always been so effortless, so easy.
He shifted again, closer, pressing me further back along the counter. His hands slid up the outsides of my thighs, moving with obvious intent. I lifted my hips for him…
A second later my panties were down around my ankles. I kicked them off and spread my legs, inviting him in.
The storm rattled the windows. The house creaked around us. Somewhere upstairs, pipes groaned as the heat pushed harder through the old system.
None of it mattered.
The sound of Sebastian’s shorts hitting the floor was music to my ears. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me to the edge…
“Ohhhhh… Ohhhh fuck…”
He was taller than necessary. The perfect height, considering the counter. I gasped as he pushed into me, wrapping my legs around him. Biting down on his shoulder as he drove all the way in, so hard, so deep, my wetness facilitating the completion of our union.
The kissing started up again; even hotter now that he was inside me.
I hooked my ankles to keep him steady as he pumped me deeply, arms over his shoulders, our sweat-soaked bodies pressed tightly together.
We reveled in the heat between us, still glistening from our workout.
The scent of our arousal. The aftermath of our exercise.
The blast furnace between my legs.
I fucked him hungrily, steadily, his big hands guiding me at the edge of the counter.
Sebastian held me suspended against his tight abdomen, his palms warm, his fingers spread over my ass.
The storm, the house — all of it ceased to exist for a while.
Even the others, upstairs showering. Or maybe even watching, from the doorway. Waiting their turn.
When the moment finally crested — when everything between us tightened and broke and left me clinging to him to stay upright — I realized something that should’ve scared me more than it did.
This wasn’t an accident anymore.
This wasn’t a slip, or lapse of judgment.
This was a choice.
This was on purpose.
I saw it in his eyes first; they glazed over and rolled back, fighting a losing battle. They met mine pleadingly, desperately working to maintain the last of his control.
“You want it, don’t you?” I chuckled into his mouth.
I was on the edge myself, but I didn’t tell him that. It was more fun this way.
“Yes,” he breathed.
“What?”
“I said yes!” Sebastian pleaded. “God, yes.”
His thrusts had slowed down at the penultimate moment. He was at his absolute limit. The very maximum he could hold onto, without letting go.
“You want me to tell you?” I teased. “Would you like that?”
Sebastian’s eyes locked on mine. He looked through them. Into me.
He nodded, rapidly.
“Come.”
It happened before the word fully passed my lips. Before I even finished speaking the breath that carried it to his ears.
“Come inside me,” I whispered, digging my heels in to draw him close.
He didn’t so much ejaculate as he exploded, grunting and groaning, clawing me tighter against him as he shoved my thighs as wide as they could go.
I felt my hips crack. My back straighten as he pushed all the way into me, thumping away, spraying my insides with his warmth and wetness, while burying his face against my neck.
Then my own climax hit, and I collapsed around him. Folding him into me with all four of my limbs, as my body shuddered and my legs quivered and everything turned a stark, beautiful white.
For a while we disappeared, connected by heat, by fire, by everything. There was no rush to return to earth. No hurry to float back to reality, as we held each other, our bodies still shaking.
It was a slow clap that snapped us back to the present. The kind that made you instantly aware you weren’t alone.
Grayson stood in the doorway, hair wet, a towel draped around him. Ares stood just behind him, arms crossed. Same shit, different towel.
“We eat there, you know,” Grayson nodded to the countertop.
I looked him dead in the eye, then kissed Sebastian. It was a long, slow kiss. A meaningful kiss.
The kind of kiss that invoked a challenge.
“Your bed or mine?” Grayson called over his shoulder, to Ares.
“Hers,” Ares replied calmly. He crossed the room and slung me effortlessly over his shoulder.
I was still hot. Still heaving.
Still filled with Sebastian’s warmth.
“She’s reaping the benefits,” Ares explained. “She might as well be the one to clean the sheets.”
All I could do was let out a choked squeal, as Ares carried me off. He brushed past Grayson, who fell in behind him on the way out.
“Besides,” Ares added, shifting me slightly on his shoulder. “I don’t want you having home ice.”
Behind us, Grayson chuckled.
“Fair.”
I twisted enough to look back at Sebastian, still standing there, still catching his breath.
Still watching me.
“You coming?” I asked.
A beat.
Then he smiled, and filed in.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”