Page 33 of Craving Consequences

EVERLY

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The road turns to gravel about fifteen minutes outside of Mayfield only for it to become compact dirt, raised roots and jagged stones embedded into the earth.

The narrow cut curves through a dense wall of brush, heavy and opaque in the settling afternoon.

The untamed terrain tests every shock absorber Lachlan’s truck possesses, but the vehicle stays resolute.

“Are you sure this is the way?” Van leans forward to squint through the windshield.

“Positive. Dad used to bring me up here every chance we got. It was our little secret hideaway since before I could even walk.”

Van settles back. Lachlan says nothing, hand steady on the wheel.

I haven’t returned since my parents’ death. Didn’t think I could stomach it alone without Dad holding my hand. And I’m still not sure this is a good idea. I know Dad thought kindly of the two on either side of me, but would he have approved of my love for them?

Doubtful .

He’d tell me to smarten up. Caught between two men with kids my age, men he considered friends, would not sit well. Despite being kind and a wonderful father, he would get me checked for head injuries.

Mom would have been a different story. She would have immediately dragged me to see Reverend Elise. There would be no reason or conversation. Clearly, I’ve been possessed, and an exorcism would be required.

Maybe I am possessed. Maybe there is an imbalance in my brain chemical that makes me this way. Falling in love with two men who want me back like something out of one of my books is insane. It can’t possibly be real.

Yet, Lachlan has a possessive hand on my thigh. Fingers splayed as if to cover every inch of flesh. The middle digit moves in slow circles against my skin.

Van has a meaty arm slung across the back of my seat. His fingers comb through strands of my hair.

It all feels so natural. Normal. It feels like we’ve done this a million times. And maybe that’s the scariest part.

It doesn’t feel wrong.

It doesn’t feel shameful or confusing when I’m tucked between them like this. I don’t even know how this happened. When the line blurred. It was there and then it wasn’t, and here I sit with the two men I love most in the whole world trying to figure out how to let them go .

But that’s a dilemma for tomorrow. Maybe next week. Right now, I just want a few more minutes with them.

“Stop here,” I whisper when I spot the clearing.

Lachlan follows my orders and pulls the truck around in the confined circle. He positions it to face the way we’d come. Smart; by the time we leave, he might not be able to see the path in the dark.

“Why do I feel like we’re being led to a sacrifice?” Van murmurs, eyeing the tangle of branches canopying us from the sky. A cluster of leaves that nearly blocks out the sun. Here, the air is cool and peppered with the sweet scent of pine.

I tip my face and meet his gaze with a tiny smirk. “Maybe you are.”

“Is it the sex kind?” he teases, and I laugh.

“You say that until the penis chopper comes out.”

Van grimaces. “Why is it always the penis getting sacrificed?”

My burst of laughter has the corner of his mouth quirking. It’s only a second before it’s pressed into mine.

We’re both still grinning when he draws back.

“Fine. I accept,” he grumbles. “Damn thing belongs to you anyway.”

Moving like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I kiss the tip of his nose. “Wouldn’t look the same on me. ”

It’s his turn to throw his head back and roar. A deep, gravely sound that rips from his chest. It’s a feral, unhinged sound that stirs something in the pit of my stomach and has my thighs pressing closed.

“What is this place anyway?” Lachlan interjects, head cocked, staring up through the windshield at the heavy tangle of branches overhead.

“Well, you know Dad used to work for the town’s preservation office.

Back when he started, his job was tree marker.

He’d go out and assess which areas were safe for harvesting and needed protecting.

One day, he took a wrong turn and stumbled on the clearing.

He always said it wasn’t on any official map, like it had been forgotten.

Technically, it might sit in some kind of no-man’s land, too remote for anyone to care about.

But he never told anyone about it. Nearly every weekend, he’d pack up our gear and take me out here.

Just the two of us.” I give a soft chuckle I don’t feel.

“It’s funny because he swore me to secrecy.

Did the whole pinkie promise and everything not to tell anyone. ”

I trail off pressing my lips together, feeling stupid and a little embarrassed for the word vomit. Lachlan hadn’t asked for a history lesson. A clearing probably would have been enough. Bron always said I talk too much.

The man next to me shifts. I glance at him, hesitation tight in my gut, expecting him to look equally embarrassed by me. But I’m met with his pinkie extended. Not mocking or playful. It hovers between us with his eyes sweet and sincere on my face.

“Promise we won’t tell anyone.”

The knot in my throat swells too big to swallow and for a second, I can only stare at him. At the pinkie. The man holding it up.

It’s such a small thing, childish even, but the weight behind it hits me hard right in the sternum.

Gingerly, I loop mine through his.

He squeezes.

Then he draws my hand to his lips and kisses the knuckles. Each one in slow, even pecks. His warm eyes never lift off mine, not even when he turns my hand over and grazes my palm. The pulse inside my wrist.

I hear a distant click, and the belt slips off my lap with a poke of his fingers. The drinks are stolen by Van as I’m yanked closer. Practically in his lap.

He kisses me, light with a sweet love that injects straight into my heart.

“To really seal it,” he murmurs against my lips.

I chuckle.

He gives me a small grin before drawing back.

Together, we make our way down out of the truck. I reach for the tray of drinks Van is holding along with all our food, but he shakes his head and pulls them out of reach only to push them into Lachlan’s hands.

“Do you have something we can lay down?” I ask Lachlan, realizing I probably should have asked that before we got this far.

But Lachlan motions with a nod of his chin in the direction of the backseat. “I keep a blanket in the back in case of emergencies.”

I reach for the handle and yank open the door. My foot braces on the board as I bend across the seat. My fingers reach for the neatly folded blanket straight across the other side. A thin, felt spread in dark gray. I snag the corner between two fingers, having to go up on my tiptoes for that much.

I’m so focused on my task, I jump when twin sets of hands clamp down on my hips and shove. My body slides up the smooth leather. My feet slip off the board. I’m dangling. Suspended, with my skirt bunched up around my waist.

“What...?”

My protest is silenced by the same hands dragging my panties down. Not entirely. Not at first. They’re left tucked just beneath the curve of my backside.

Molten heat crawls across my skin as I realize they’re staring at my exposed flesh and I can’t even do anything about it without falling out of the truck.

I try to fold my knees over, cross them, tuck them.

Anything to shield. All my efforts get me is the detachment of my slippers.

Both tumble to the dirt somewhere far below.

“You look perfect, bent over like this,” Van drawls.

A finger catches the rolled up panties and drags them the rest of the way to my ankles and over my feet.

“Van...” I grunt, breathing short around the hard edge of the seat digging into my abdomen.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you have such a pretty pussy,” Lachlan groans.

I realize with some faint humor that this is the first time they’re actually seeing it. Still, as delighted as I am that it’s appealing, being watched so closely has me shifting. Legs kicking, fighting to find purchase.

“Please let me up,” I plead, feet arching, toes pointed in search of the board.

“Not yet,” Van taunts. “We’re deciding what to do with you now that we have you so ... available.”

I blink. “What?”

“You heard him,” Lachlan murmurs, voice warm and smooth as velvet. “Just stay still and let us think how we’re going to use that pretty hole.”

The area in question clenches. I feel the rush of heat and I pray they can’t see the amount of it gathering in anticipation .

“I don’t think she knows how filthy she looks like this,” Van muses. “Bent over, pussy bared and wet for us to do with whatever we want.”

I stifle my moan into the sticky leather pressed into my cheek. It’s worse when I feel the pull of gravity drawing the moisture down. My knee jerks like I can somehow stop it from dripping.

“Don’t move, Everly,” Van warns, hand landing on my lower back, firm and immobilizing.

“Please,” I beg stupidly, knowing it will do nothing.

A finger drags through my slick folds. Slow and deliberate. Coaxing and taunting.

I choke on a groan. My entire body convulses.

Lachlan laughs, short and brittle. “You are dripping. We haven’t even done anything.”

A different finger, not the one lightly rubbing my clit, pushes inside with maddening slowness.

“Such a greedy little whore.” Van huffs a chuckle. “Do you want a cock to fill you up?”

I clench involuntarily and both men snicker as they toy with me.

As they pump and flick in unison. Perfect harmony.

Like they’ve done this so often it’s second nature.

Their combined torment turns my body into a landmine of nerves.

Every taunt, every stroke, every brush of their lips up the backs of my thighs, across my backside has me teetering .

“You’re shaking.” Van sinks his teeth into the inside of my thigh, eliciting a cry from me before he soothes it with his tongue. “You okay, baby?”

“No,” I whimper.