Page 92 of Swept Away

GEMMA

By the time I return,a quiet song drifts from the kitchen.

The two men chat at the table, and I avoid them altogether and walk into the bedroom.

The room is cold and smells like trees and grass.

I notice the open window and move in that direction, wrapped in a bathrobe, my hair a little damp from the shower.

Leaning over the windowsill, I inhale the crisp air.

It smells like adventure and freedom, and for a moment there, my mother comes to mind, and her taste for living her life like it matters.

I wonder if I’m anything like her.Before Mason and Carter, my life had been so predictable. School, work, no boys. No fun. I wanted to avoid drowning in debt, so I did everything I could to stay afloat and never get in trouble.

Now that they’re here, things get a little weird as they add a different perspective to what I consider my normal life.

A few weeks from now, I’d be back in school.

They’d probably be a naughty memory, and that would be that. I couldn’t even boast about the hot sex that we had, or how they lusted after me.

I’d simply be a woman who happened to stumble onto two hot men who didn’t mind sharing her and fuck her into exhaustion.

I wonder at what point all of this becomes more than just fun and a little more than experiencing sex of a different variety and increased intensity.

More than being adventurous in the woods or having sex in the clubs and on the street.

I wonder when we’ll say goodbye to each other, and what that day or moment will look like.

Will everything crumble?

Will there be hard feelings?

“Hey,” a voice echoes behind me, and startled, I hit the man’s chest when I step back.

Mason wraps his arm around me, a smell of aftershave snaking around me, too.

He smoothly unties my belt and leaves me naked in front of the window and the protective moonlight as he drops my bathrobe to the floor.

The slightest touch makes goosebumps rise on my skin.

I turn to him and meet his eyes.

He’s barefoot, with only his pants on.

He looks at me with hungry eyes like someone who’s starved for sex. Or me, perhaps?

“What’s happening?” he asks, bringing his hand to my face and slowly stroking my cheek, his expression softening.

He still looks like someone who chases a squirrel and knows better than making sudden moves.

“How long are we staying here?”

His eyes glint with a smile as he dips his gaze to my mouth.

“For as long as you wish. Until we’re all sick of having sex.”

I smile.