Page 98 of Snowed In with Benefits

I’m not going to think about that right now. Right now, all I want to think about is Josie.

Beau kisses her first when we reach his room, then Emmett. She turns to me and I take her face in both my hands and kiss her slowly, letting it deepen naturally, letting it flow down her body until she’s pressing herself against me. My body responds to the feel of her against me. Maybe it’s too responsive. I want to make this last.

Beau takes her overshirt off. Emmett takes her t-shirt off. I reach around her, unhooking her bra, pulling it toward me to reveal her beautiful breasts. I kiss them, one after the other. Beau and Emmett are touching her, too, but I’m not paying attention to how or where. My whole focus is on her, her creamy skin, the rate of her pulse just above her collarbone.

She’s breathing deep and slow, like she doesn’t want this to end, either. She holds my head against her breast, shuddering with pleasure as I work her over with my teeth, lips, and tongue. Her pants and panties have disappeared now. Claiming first without saying a word, I lift her up and lay her on the bed. I trail slow kisses down her belly, watching the way goosebumps rise on her skin, listening to her breath quicken.

I bury my head between her legs, worshipping her. I take it slow, making it last. When she gets too close I back off. I’m not trying to wear her out. I don’t want her destroyed too soon. I want to savor every moment, every kiss, every mouthful of her. The weight on my chest keeps reminding me that this is the last time. If that’s the case, I want it to last forever.

Eventually I let her come on my tongue, then I move out of the way. She’s not just mine. Beau moves in between her legs as I turn my attention to her breasts again. He’s fucking her slowly. Emmett is kissing her, her mouth, her neck. I’m all over her gorgeous breasts. She grabs for Emmett, pulling his huge cock into her mouth as Beau fucks her. It’s a beautiful sight.

She’s got one hand on me, running it up and down my body. The fact that she never forgets about me, even when the other two are taking her apart, is what makes me love her. Love doing this with her, I mean. The correction comes out fast, automatic, like catching a glass before it falls off the counter. But the glass is already broken. I just can’t afford to look at it directly. Not tonight. Not when she’s leaving in the morning. She’s incredible and I could spend the rest of my life in bed with her. She gasps and cries out, coming around Beau’s cock. That’s his cue. He lets her finish, then moves aside.

Emmett pulls out of her mouth, then gives her a long, slow, gentle kiss before he moves away. He lies on his back and pulls her on top of him. I give Beau a look, and he nods at me. I position myself behind her, between Emmett’s legs, and whisper in her ear.

“Remember what Beau did the other night? Do you want me to do that?” She’s shaking already, fighting to get herself down and around Emmett’s cock.

“Yes please,” she whimpers. “Slowly. Make it last.”

Of course she’s the one to say what we’re all thinking. I hurry to grab the lube, then return to her side and slick both my fingers and her back hole with the slippery gel. I start by teasing her ass a little before sliding one and then finally two digits into her, going slow enough to give her time to relax, working her open. She cries out as I start to fuck her deeper with my fingers, shaking as she impales herself on Emmett’s cock, and Beau holds her to keep her from collapsing. We’re all as close to her as we can possibly be, and it’s still not close enough.

Once she’s relaxed and open enough to take me, I withdraw my fingers and press my cock inside her inch by inch, groaning at how tight she feels with Emmett already claiming her pussy. I meet his eyes and we start moving in sync, slowly, rhythmically, bringing her as close to the peak as possible without letting her crest.

She gets Beau in her mouth, and it’s like that night all over again, just a little different. We aren’t performing for anybody. We’re just sharing her honestly, completely, without worrying about the world outside. At least… I’m trying not to worry about the world outside. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her scent in. My arm is wrapped around her waist, controlling her movements so she doesn’t get hurt on the double penetration. I feel her soft skin against my chest and focus on that, just that, just for now.

She comes again and the sound and feel of it take us apart one by one. I close my eyes, trying to think about anything else, wanting to make it last. I feel her and Emmett pulsing against and around me, hear Beau moaning his release, and as much as I want to, I can’t hold on any longer. I come inside her, holding her tight.

Utterly spent, she collapses into Beau’s arms. He gently rolls her off Emmett and into the middle of the bed. He lies down beside her. Emmett scoots close to her, cradling her head against his shoulder. I’m on the outside, but I’m close enough to find her hand. I pull the blankets up over us. We all… even Emmett, who always sleeps alone… fall asleep in her bed. Beau’s bed.

Damn it.

I wake up the next morning to find her already showered and dressed in her flimsy things. Frowning, I get up.

“You’re going to get cold.”

She shrugs and bites her lip. “I didn’t want to steal your clothes,” she says, blushing.

Emmett wakes up at that, snorting and glaring. He grabs his blue flannel, the one that makes her eyes look golden in the right light, and shoves it at her.

“It’s cold outside,” he says shortly.

“Thank you.” She puts it on and instantly looks more like herself. Or, more like the self I’ve been seeing over these last few weeks. Maybe that’s not herself at all. Maybe herself lies somewhere between the colorful designer honeymoon outfits and the borrowed backwoods flannels. Nobody knows that but her, and maybe she doesn’t even know yet. That’s part of what she needs to go find out, I remind myself. It’s important that she knows who she is without us.

I watch her roll the sleeves of Emmett’s flannel up past her wrists. She’s been wearing pieces of all three of us for weeks now, and she’s never looked more comfortable than she does in our oversized, worn-out things. By tonight, she’ll take these off in some apartment in Seattle and fold them into a drawer, and they’ll just be fabric. They won’t smell like the cabin anymore. They won’t carry the warmth of the men who wore them first. I want to tell her to keep them. I want to tell her a lot of things.

Emmett leaves to go get dressed. I grab a pair of my sweatpants and hold them out to her. “Those leggings aren’t going to do much against temperatures like this. You don’t want to wreck because you’re shivering.”

She hesitates, then takes them. She stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick kiss full of gratitude and goodbye. The gratitude I can take. The goodbye weighs heavy.

She’s busily packing her things. I open the closet to find her enormously poofy wedding dress. “What do you want to do with this?” I ask her.

“I’ll take it with me and donate it or something,” she says. “Who knows, maybe some other bride will actually be happy in it. Can you grab a trash bag? One of the really big ones. Then we’ll just lay it in there and make sure it doesn’t get ripped or dirty. Well… dirtier than it already is.” She picks up the edge of the tulle and looks ruefully at the gray and yellow water stains.

By the time I get back upstairs with the trash bag, she’s got everything else packed. She’s got her camera and laptop in a bag that she’s slung over her shoulder, her clothes in the little suitcase, and my and Emmett’s clothes pooling around her little body. I wrestle the dress into the trash bag, hating every minute of it. Once it’s finally accomplished, I carry it downstairs for her.

Emmett and Beau are waiting by the front door. Beau has two cups of coffee in hand, but he sets them both down on the bookshelf when he sees that she already has all of her things. She’s wearing her high heels, the ones she came in with. I want to give her my boots, but that might be a step too far.

She stands by the door with all of her things and looks at us one by one. I step forward, pulling her into my arms, bags and all. The camera bag digs into my ribs. The trash bag with the wedding dress crinkles against my hip. She’s small against me, smaller than she should be, and I can feel her heartbeat through all the layers and luggage between us. I hold on for one second longer than I should, memorizing the weight of her, the way she fits against me even when she’s carrying everything she owns.