Chapter 15
LEAH
"It's really coming down out there." Josiah and I sat on separate armchairs, watching the snow continue to fall through a wide window.
"Next time you pay someone an unwanted visit, check the forecast first." He uncrossed his legs and crossed them the other way.
"It's not supposed to fall this heavily for weeks," I protested. It hadn't crossed my mind to check again.
"Are you sure?" He looked over at me. "You might have looked at the forecast and come here anyway."
"You think I wanted to get stuck here with you on purpose?" I asked. "Wow, you have an ego after all."
"I never said I didn't." He looked back out at the snow. "It'll settle down in an hour or two."
"Then what?" I asked. I could think of worse ways to spend my afternoon than sitting in front of a warm fire, watching the snow fall, a metre or two from an attractive man.
"Then we wait for it to thaw," he said with a smirk.
I raised my eyebrows at him.
He shrugged. "I thought the plan was for you to stay here until spring."
"As long as you have Wi-Fi." I matched his tone.
"Depends on the weather," he said. "Sometimes we do. Sometimes we don't. If I don't, then the lodge will."
"The lodge, right."
"What will your boyfriends think if you spend the winter with me?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.
"They'd probably assume we spent most of it in bed," I said lightly. "What else is there to do up here?"
"Not much else." He looked away again. "Keep the fire going. Cook food once in a while."
"Fire, food and fucking." I could definitely think of worse.
"Then at the first hint of spring, I'll have two meatheads at my door, ready to punch the shit out of me." He grunted at that.
"It might be worth it," I said, half joking. "But there'd be three of them."
He looked over at me again, his brows knitted. "Three?"
"Yeah. I have a thing going with another guy as well."
"Do the first two know about him?" Josiah seemed amused rather than scandalised. Or even surprised.
"Yes, they do," I said. "They all know about each other."
He took a few moments to process that. "You're with all three of them. And you fuck all of them? And they're all okay with this?"
"More than okay," I said. "In fact, they encouraged it. Connor and Riley brought Brooks over with them."
"Brooks? He's new in town?"
"Yes, he's working at the Frosty Brew," I said slowly. "And he's my…stepbrother."
"Okay," Josiah said, equally slowly. "Do they know you're here?"
"I sent them a text when it started snowing," I said. "So, yes. They know I'm here."
He glanced at the door as though they were right outside at this moment, about to break it down to get to me.
"You said they believed me about what happened to Coral." He turned to me again. "Are they also planning to encourage you to fuck me?"
"Not planning on it," I said. "They've already given me their blessing."
His Adam's apple bobbed. "Connor Ferguson and Riley Crane said they were okay if I fuck you?"
"Yes," I said simply. "They want me to get everything I want. They want me to be happy and satisfied."
Josiah scrubbed a hand over his face. "Are they out of their fucking minds? They've hated me most of their lives, why would they want me anywhere near you?"
"Like I said, they only felt what their parents told them to feel." If Jacob Ferguson and Henry Crane were in front of me right now, I'd give them a piece of my mind. "Now they know better."
"They don't even know me." He dropped his hand to the arm of his chair, gripped it like he might fall off.
"I know you," I said. "They trust my judgement.
" They'd get to know each other. Connor and Josiah were a lot alike.
Both grumpy, but pretending to be bigger assholes than they really were.
Brooks too, although the chip on his shoulder was different.
As for Riley, he was the glue that held the rest of us together.
Maybe nail or screw would be a better metaphor. Something more unyielding than glue.
"You don't know me either," Josiah argued. "I don't know you."
"I know you're a good person, deep down," I said. Just because he didn't see it, didn't mean it wasn't true. The same could be said for the other three as well. Possibly even myself.
He snorted in response to that.
"You are," I insisted. "You were dealt a shitty hand, there's no denying that. Maybe I was too. But we can't let the past define everything we do. At some point, we have to let it go and live in the present. We might even be daring and…" I paused for dramatic effect. "Think about the future."
"You're delusional," he told me. "The past is everything.
It makes us who we are. The choices we make, the things we say and do.
I could have told them I saw her fall in the creek and everything would have been different.
I could have gone along with what they said.
Do you have any idea how much easier that would have made…
everything? I could have told them I looked away for a second and she ran off.
I could have told them anything. Made up some bullshit that made me look better. Maybe I should have."
He rubbed his temples with his long fingers. His nails were ragged, but clean. Like he worked with his hands, but took care to wash away the signs of it.
"But you didn't, because that's not who you are," I said.
I pushed myself to my feet and moved to kneel on the rug in front of his chair.
It was so thick, my knees sank into it. I took a moment to be grateful it wasn't hardwood, but I would have done the same if it was.
I needed him to see me and to understand. To really listen. "You were honest."
"I was an idiot," he snapped. "What fucking use was the truth? Who did it help? Not me. Not her. Not you, whether you're her or not."
I placed my hands on his knees. "What use would lying have been? You would have had to live with that lie all these years. Don't tell me that wouldn't have eaten you up?"
"I told you not to feel sorry for me," he growled softly. "I fucked up. End of story."
"It's not the end—" I started.
His arm snapped out and he grabbed a handful of my hair. "It's the fucking end. If you don't stop I'm going to…"
"What are you going to do?" I whispered. My pulse was racing, clit fluttering. My nipples were already hard. The anticipation made me wet as hell.
His eyes were dark as they looked back at me. Darker still when his hand tightened around my hair. With the other, he pushed down the front of his track pants and boxer briefs, letting his erection spring free.
My eyes widened. The underside of his cock was decorated with four metal bars, each a few millimetres apart. Pre-cum already leaked from his tip.
He pushed my face forward, until my lips were pressed against his crown.
"You want to fuck me?" His voice was ragged. "Open your fucking mouth and suck my cock."
I flicked my tongue out, licking the tip, tasting the slick salt on his heated skin.
He groaned. "Leah…" He pushed my face forward more, until I opened my mouth. Then he was sliding his cock between my lips, just the tip at first, then gradually more.
His piercings were smooth against my lips. I stroked my tongue over them instinctively.
"You want to know why I got those?" he asked, each word more strained than the one before. "Because they hurt like a bitch. I wanted them to. I wanted to hurt. I deserved to hurt."
I looked up at him sharply, but his eyes were closed as he started to roll his hips, thrusting, fucking my mouth slowly.
I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, stroking his balls and pumping him in rhythm with his strokes.
Wanting to bring him to orgasm. Wanting to see him shatter. To taste him on my tongue.
"Fucking hell," he whispered. "Your fucking mouth…" He thrust faster a couple of times before coming, squirting his release into the back of my throat.
I gagged and then managed to swallow, continuing to stroke him until he finally let out a long breath and slid his cock free.
At the same time, he let go of my hair and sat back.
"Shit, Leah… I shouldn't have… Fuck." He ran a hand over the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I—" He screwed his eyes shut.
"Yes, you should." I teased around the tip of his cock with my tongue and smiled. "I wanted you to. If I didn't, I would have told you."
He regarded me for a moment. "Get back in your chair and let me fuck you with my mouth.
" He knew I was right. If I wanted to say no, I would, but I liked his assertiveness.
If he told me to lie out in the snow with my legs spread so he could fuck me out there, I would have.
My blood was so hot I might melt it right down to the ground.
Without hesitation, I pushed myself to my feet and retook my seat. He knelt in front of me, grabbed my leggings and panties and yanked them down my legs and off over my shoes. I barely had time to blink before he dipped his head between my thighs and started to devour me.
I moaned. "Josiah… Yes, just there." I felt like he was going to eat me alive. And I was here for it. I was here for it when he pulled down the front of my shirt and bra and palmed my breast. Pinching my nipple when it became harder still.
He slid a calloused finger into me, then another, hooking them around to stroke me from the inside while relentlessly sucking my clit.
I bucked against his mouth as he pushed me closer and closer to coming. The stubble on his chin scratching the inside of my thighs, the perfect amount of tension. The perfect amount of…everything.
I arched my back as I shattered against his tongue, crying out his name over and over, wanting to make it last. Blood raced through my veins and pounded in my ears.
For the longest time, everything disappeared except bliss that started in my toes and travelled all the way up to my head. Consuming everything.
He didn't stop when I started to come down, instead pushing me, stroking me, licking me until the pressure started to build again.
"Josiah…" I whispered. "I don't know if I can." Then I was back on the edge of the precipice, my toes curled, ready to pitch over again.
I gripped the arms of the chair, holding on as I broke into a million pieces, screaming out his name so loud I wouldn't have been surprised if they heard it right at the bottom of the mountain.
Loud enough to make the earth move and my throat hurt.
I cried out and cried out until finally I flopped back, boneless and panting.
"That was…incredible," I said when I finally managed to speak again.
"It was what you deserve," he said. He kissed the insides of my thighs as though worshipping them, then rested the side of his face on my leg.
"I'm not good enough for you," he said softly.
"Yes, you are," I told him. "I might not be good enough for you."
Before he could respond, the sound of engines approaching broke through the otherwise silent room.