Tia

Four days I tiptoe around the house, trying not to get in any of the men’s way. Huxley and Emerson won’t even look at me. Fallon keeps eyeing me suspiciously like I’m going to run again. Salinger watches me too, but there’s something in his expression that makes me wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. Banks uses me as his errand-girl, which I don’t mind. I like being useful. But I can tell that they all blame me for Giles’ injuries. Everyone but Giles.

Not that I blame them. They’re right. If I hadn’t run away, he would never have been in those woods in the first place.

I started to explain to Fallon why I left. Wanted to tell him everything. But he quickly brushed me aside, saying he didn’t want excuses, he just wanted to know that I’d never do anything so stupid again.

I won’t.

Ever.

But I also need them to know the danger they’re in, keeping me as their wife. And not just from the potential mercenaries who might come for me. But from the men from my past.

When Lawson comes knocking at our door, the less they know the better.

Anything I say will be held against them. I’m not keeping secrets to hurt them, it’s to save them.

I heard my husbands talking. They think it’s unlikely that the two surviving men have gone to the authorities. If they had, Salinger would have heard talk of it at the government office where he works. Or, officers would have come and arrested me by now.

“We may have gotten a lucky break,” Emerson says in the study, leaning against the wall.

I don’t join them. They’d just get quiet if I walked in. So, I listen from outside the door, where I can get a small glimpse of my men.

“I don’t believe in luck,” Huxley says. “She killed one of their guys. They’ll want payment. We just don’t know what the cost is yet.”

There’s more muttering. And it drives me batty, all the whispers, all the conversations in corners when they think I can’t hear.

It’s so hard not having anyone to talk to. I considered calling Kate or Lilah, but it’s too risky to explain anything. And they’d ask questions. Women don’t beat around the bush like my husbands do. It’s surprising to me that none of my husbands have pressured me to explain. But then again, when I first came home, I was the one who initiated sex. They erred so far on the side of respect, I thought they weren’t interested in me. It softens me to them, that memory. Knowing how intent they were on not rushing things, how gentle they were when their lips met mine.

They may be burly mountain men, but they aren’t comfortable navigating women - or at least, navigating me. They walk on eggshells when I’m around, hoping I don’t break. Not realizing I’m already cracked wide open.

I turn and head upstairs towards Giles’ room. He’s moving around a bit now, but I can tell he’s still hurting.

When I knock, there’s no answer. I knock again, “Giles?”

I open the door, but he’s not in bed.

He shouldn’t be up on his own.

“Giles?” I say louder.

“Hey?” He says from the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his still damp hair and down his bare chest. Fresh white bandages, which he must have just applied himself, wrap around his arm and leg, but I see a hint of pink coming through the one on his calf.

“You’re not supposed to bathe yet, the stitches-”

“I’m fine,” he says with a half-smile, then limps towards the bed. “I’m going stir crazy just laying around here.”

“How’s your leg?”

He sits down on the mattress and motions for me to come to him. “Better when you’re around.”

When I move forward, he grabs me around the waist, pulls me between his legs and smiles up at me. “What are the others doing?”

“Ignoring me as usual.”

He chuckles. “Good, then they won’t miss you for a few hours.

I quirk an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

He grins, eyeing his towel.

I laugh, my shoulders falling as I reach for where it’s tucked in at the waist. “Too bad you already had a shower, I would have given you a sponge bath.”

His eyebrows raise. “Damn, where was my nurse when I needed her?”

I roll my eyes. “Downstairs, in the way.”

“Hey,” he says, wrapping his good arm around me. “Don’t be mad at them, they just worry. And with good reason.”

“But I’m here in the house with them now. Why won’t they talk about things with me?”

Giles pushes his lips together. “Tia, unless you're ready to say why you really ran, I don't think there is much to talk about.”

“Why aren’t you asking me then? Don’t you care?”

Giles closes his eyes. “Dammit, woman, are you just looking for a fight?”

I throw up my hands. “Maybe,” I exhale heavily. “I don’t know. It’s been a really long couple of days and I feel so guilty and selfish and... alone.”

“Hey, there,” he shushes me. “Tia, you’re not alone, remember?”

I swallow, nodding, and looking up into his eyes. “I remember.”

“Look, now I’m the one feeling bad,” he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I went and got eaten up by wolves and left you all alone to worry about me.”

My eyes glisten with tears. I don’t think he realizes how terrifying the last several days have been. I’ve sat in this room day and night, watching him with worry clawing at my throat.

Guilt inching its way up my skin until it covered me completely.

“I was worried,” I say, resting my head against his chest. “Really worried, Giles.”

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t cry over me,” he says with a playful tone. “I’m a rough and wild mountain man, remember? I fight off wolves and protect my woman.”

He kisses the side of my head and I squeeze my eyes shut, overwhelmed by how gracious he is with me.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I was the brat who left without saying goodbye.”

He raises his eyebrows, and I feel his hard cock pushing against the towel.

He shrugs. “I have my reasons.”

I laugh again, startled by how Giles can make me feel so many things all at once. Safe and beautiful, wanted and carefree. When I look at him my burdens are lifted, and right now I want to thank him for that gift.

I need to show him how thankful I am. Show him how much he means to me.

Licking my lips, I push the towel away, as Giles eases himself against the pillows on the large bed.

He groans in pleasure as I kneel before him, taking hold of his shaft and fondling his balls to warm him up.

“You’re so warm,” I tell him, the heat of the shower still hanging in the air.

I dip my mouth to meet his tip, licking it ever so gently. Teasing him. Wanting to draw this out.

God knows he’s been through hell the last few days.

It’s time I cheer him up.

“I don’t think I’ve been a very good nurse,” I tell him playfully.

“No?” His good arm is behind his head and he looks down at me with a smile spread across his face. Oh yes, this is exactly what he needs.

I shake my head, standing up from the bed, and pushing down my leggings. I’m not wearing panties, and his eyebrows raise as he looks me over.

“I didn’t do my job very well and I think you need to make sure I remember to take care of my patient better next time.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?” He bites down on his lip as I pull off my camisole, my breasts on display. I lift a foot to the bed frame, exposing my pussy to him. Then I run a finger over myself as I watch him pump his shaft.

Watching him touch himself gets me wet, and I want him to know how excited he makes me. My clit is swollen, and a thrill of pleasure runs over my skin.

We’ve been in two near-death experiences together and the result is that I feel absolutely unrestrained in his company. I touch myself, watching his cock grow as I lift a finger to my lips, tasting myself. He groans as I lick my lips, reaching a hand out to me.

He takes hold of me at my hip, but I lower his hand, wanting his palm firmly on my ass.

“I was thinking you could spank me, so I don’t forget.”

His mouth falls open. “You want me to...”

Nodding slowly, I ease his head down, removing a pillow. Then I turn, straddling him from behind. “Will this angle work?” I ask, sitting on his face, knowing he will be more comfortable like this than any other position, as his wounds are still healing.

He runs a hand over my bare ass, and lifts my cheeks, spreading them, and running his tongue up and down my already wet slit.

I whimper, my hands taking hold of his rigid cock, needing something to steady me.

“Oh, you are a very naughty nurse,” he tells me. “I know what you’re up to.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my tongue swirling around his tip, the pre-cum so nice and creamy. I want his fullness in my mouth, I want to forget to think, to breathe. I want to be lost in him.

“You said you wanted more of my beard against your pussy.” Without another word, he presses his mouth against me, sucking at my engorged clit, and licking my folds as if I’m the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth. He moves his tongue up and down me, devouring my pussy and it leaves me panting with pleasure. I open my mouth, taking him fully, wanting his cock to hit the back of my throat, wanting to make him come hard against me, over and over again.

No, not wanting. Needing.

I need him to bring me to the edge, to pull me over. I need to free fall with him under me.

His fingers explore me, my clit thrumming as he feasts on me. He slaps my ass, his fingers digging into my hips deliciously as he licks me into submission.

“You taste so damn good,” he moans against me as I run my tongue over his thick cock.

“That’s just because you’ve only been eating chicken noodle soup the last few days,” I joke before I wrap my lips around him and begin to suck once more. It’s impossible not to gag when I fill my mouth with his length. He is so long and thick, and I’m already imagining him inside my pussy, the memory of our last time together hitting me so deep that I begin to come against his mouth. The shock of the orgasm causes me to scream and Giles loves it, as he begins to suck me even harder. Not letting up.

I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing I’m being loud, knowing my other husbands can hear but unable to hold back. He slaps my ass again, causing the biggest smile to spread across my face.

I love how easy it is to be with Giles. It’s a bit of a surprise. He’s so commanding and capable but the other side of him, the side that laughs while we make love, the side that growls in my ear, making me smile and reminding me that we are still here, still alive - that is the side that makes me fall for Giles so much.

He doesn’t press me or push me into a corner, instead, he presses his beard against me, tickling me and making my pussy drip with desire.

“Oh, God, woman,” he groans, his cock engorged and rigid, ready to release. He presses two fingers inside of my pussy, hitting my g-spot as I grind against him.

“I’m gonna come again, Giles,” I moan.

“Good, that’s the point, woman.” Another playful slap on my ass. It burns in the best possible way.

A thrill runs through me as I suck him; his cock is so hard that it’s about to burst. I’m already salivating at the thought of his come in my mouth. We’re both so close and the intensity builds in my belly as he gets me off.

I suck harder, wanting him to come, wanting to feel the rush of satisfying him.

When he’s ready to come, I pull him from my mouth, moving my hand up and down his shaft, as ribbons of come shoot from his tip, I let it cover my breasts; I want to be covered in him. I want his seed to coat me and I want it in my mouth. Opening my mouth, I suck him once more as he finishes, the creamy salt of his come sliding down my throat.

He slaps my ass again and laughter escapes me. I am so deliciously fulfilled when my body is against his.

“Oh, Giles,” I say, rolling off him and gently crawling back up his exquisite body, careful not to hurt him. “You certainly taught me a lesson.”

I fall asleep in his arms, not wanting to face my other husbands. Especially after what they surely just heard.

Maybe I’m hiding out in the arms of the man who makes me feel safe, who was by my side when I killed a man - but right now, I’m not going to feel bad about that.

Right now, I’m just going to celebrate the fact Giles is alive.