Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Camelia
Camelia ached when awareness finally trickled back, but it was a pleasant kind of ache.
She stretched, noting that the sheets underneath her were dry and clean as she rolled over. The door to her room was open, letting the air circulate, and the morning light that filtered in through the window was bright and cold.
When she peeked out, she was met with a world blanketed in white, snowflakes drifting softly down and landing in drifts around the yards and streets. The streets were unplowed, and Camelia couldn't help the warm fuzzy feeling that suffused her belly as she looked out.
She loved the snow.
"Okay. Clothes. Dressed. Breakfast. Class? God, what day is it?" Camelia ran her hand through her hair, grimacing a little when her fingers got caught in the dark strands, and she forced herself to roll out of bed, standing and stretching a little more as she wiggled her bare feet on the carpet.
She glanced at herself in the body-length mirror as she passed it, snagging her robe from where it hung on the back of the door, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling a little at the myriad marks and bruises that bloomed across her skin.
Tiny fingerprint bruises on her hips, a viciously dark hickey at the join of her neck.
Scratch marks across her tits, matching someone's grip if they were fucking her from behind and their hands slipped.
She blushed a little as she fingered a hickey on her inner thigh, her pussy clenching at the dull throb of pain.
She was sore there, too, especially now that her hormones weren't begging for her to fuck constantly.
Her tissues were tender and swollen, and even clenching down around nothing made a small twinge of pain lance through her lower belly.
But there was warmth there too, affection at each mark that was on her body. The urgency that she could feel with every blemish, every mild ache in her muscles and bruise on her skin...it made her heart swell with an emotion that she was almost terrified to name.
She wrapped her robe around herself and tied the belt around her waist, padding down the stairs and following the music that was playing in the kitchen. It was soft, something upbeat and classical, and Evan was standing at the stove humming to himself as he cooked something.
"Morning." Camelia barely spoke louder than the music, not wanting to startle him, but she was surprised when arms wrapped around her waist from the other side and James buried his nose in her neck.
"Morning, sweetheart." He pressed a tender kiss to the mark on her neck, and Camelia hummed softly as she stretched out her neck for him, shivering a little when he dragged his tongue over her skin.
Camelia turned in his arms, linking her arms around James' neck. "Hi," she said softly.
His gray eyes were stormy as he looked down at her, but the smile that touched his lips was soft. "You're back. Feeling okay?"
Camelia nodded, biting her lower lip as she heard Evan set the pan aside on the stove. A second later, Evan pressed up behind her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "It's been seven days and some change, baby," he murmured. "It's Sunday. We have class tomorrow."
Camelia nodded, the information settling something inside of her. "Okay," she said. "So we don't have anywhere to be today?" She giggled a little, feeling so, so light for reasons that she couldn't explain. "I can rest?"
"We can do whatever you want today, sweetheart," James said softly. His eyes flashed, and Camelia blushed a little at the low simmer of heat that she saw in them.
"I'm a little sore," she admitted. "A day to recover would be nice."
Evan nodded, holding her a little tighter for a second before he pulled away, returning to the stove. "Sit down. Food is almost ready."
James didn't release Camelia when Evan walked back to the stove, his gaze softening as he cupped her chin. His thumb stroked along her lower lip, and a vague memory tickled at her brain, one that made her heart thump unevenly.
"You..." she breathed. Her stomach clenched at the memory, his cock stretching her and his voice in her ear as her heat hit. "You said you love me. Didn't you?"
A hint of trepidation lit in James' eyes, and he pressed his lips together as he looked down at her. Camelia could see the war inside of him, clear in the tension of his arms where he still had her pressed close.
Maybe bringing it up so soon hadn't been the right move. You didn't have to be a genius to see that James had commitment issues, maybe Camelia was blowing up everything that they had been building...
"Yes," James said, interrupting Camelia's spiraling thoughts. His voice was soft and hesitant, and Camelia could feel Evan's gaze on the two of them from across the room, burning into her.
"Yes," James said again, even softer. "I did."
Camelia swallowed, sliding her hand up his chest to touch his jaw.
Her chest was full, her heart thumping unevenly, and this was definitely not the time to be having this conversation.
Not when she was barely back to herself, when she could still smell the sweet, heavy scent of her hormones hanging in the air, when some of the things that she remembered herself saying in the midst of her heat were so humiliating and desperate, and God, she wanted them. ..
A smile touched James' lips, and he gently thumbed at her lip again before he released her. "Let's eat some breakfast, sweetheart, and then we can talk, okay?" His eyes glimmered a little with mirth as he winked. "I think that you said some things that you need to explain too, hmm?"
Camelia flushed, and James chuckled as he gently turned her around and pushed her towards the table. Evan was setting out plates, and the warmth in his smile as he pulled Camelia's seat out for her made her heart twist all over again.
Thankfully, they sat closely on either side of her, but neither of them asked her any questions.
Not that Camelia knew what she was going to say, when they did ask their questions.
Because James was right; they needed to talk.
She couldn't ignore the feelings that were lingering deep inside of her anymore.
This might have started as an arrangement to protect her and to help her control her hormones and heat cycles but now. ..
Now it was more. So much more. And it terrified Camelia.
Evan's French toast was a wonderful distraction, but short-lived.
James and Evan kept glancing at each other as they ate, and Camelia couldn't stop herself from furrowing her brow as she looked between them.
There was something different there, too.
What had changed between the two of them during her heat?
"Let me," Evan said softly, taking Camelia's plate when she was finished eating. She hadn't managed everything, but he had piled her plate higher than most people would be able to reasonably manage, so she didn't feel too bad about it.
"Thanks," she said softly. She swallowed, and James linked their fingers together as he pulled her to stand.
"Come on. We'll talk in the living room."
James didn't release Camelia's hand as she perched on the edge of the sofa, and it was suddenly like the first time that she had been over there, all over again. Just like after her first heat, she wanted to squirm and stay and flee and hide all at the same time.
This time, though, it was for entirely different reasons.
Evan was quick in cleaning up, and James' thumb stroked soothing circles on the back of her hand as he entered the living room and sat on Camelia's other side.
His hand immediately landed on the top of her thigh, his fingers stroking the sensitive inside soothingly, and Camelia had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from moaning and spreading her legs.
Not what we're here for, right now, Camelia.
For a moment, none of them spoke, and the tension was thick. Evan's eyes were intense and solemn when Camelia peeked up at them, but they weren't angry or upset. Nothing that would indicate that he, or either of them, wanted to end their arrangement.
The thought of that...of not having the two of them anymore.
..it made a lump rise in Camelia's throat, and she forced herself to swallow hard, her eyes stinging suddenly with tears.
"Thank you," she said quietly. She looked over at James, who was looking down at their joined hands with a concentrated look.
"For...taking care of me. I know that it can't have been easy. "
Evan chuckled. "You're not a burden to us, baby. Caring for you during your heat isn't an obligation. It's a pleasure." He linked the fingers of her free hand with his, lifting their joined hands to brush his lips against the back of her hand. "But that isn't what you wanted to talk about, is it?"
I mean, a little bit. Camelia swallowed, shaking her head as she looked over at James.
He was still avoiding her gaze, though he was clutching onto her hand tighter than before.
Camelia gently disengaged her hand from his, reaching up and brushing her fingers through his hair before grasping his chin and gently pulling until he met her gaze. "You love me?" she asked softly.
James let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes briefly before he fixed her with those intense eyes of his. "I do, sweetheart," he said softly. "I love you so fucking much. You're fucking everything."
Camelia's heart squeezed, and her breathing picked up. Her mind, which had been so terrified of everything that might be said during this conversation, was blank, and only the feeling of both men on either side of her gripping her hands firmly kept her grounded.