21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (41 page)

The words were a slow, torturous sensation. Her body was on fire. Too many damn clothes stood between her and what he described. Zach’s fingers flexed against her pussy, a half-frustrating stroke mirroring Logan’s suggestion.

“Cruel.” Zach’s breath seemed to be as shallow as hers was. “Very cruel.”

Logan chuckled and scooped a spoonful of lobster out of the shell. He held it to her lips and she opened her mouth to take it. Surprise jerked through her as his mouth slanted over hers and his tongue pursued the juicy shellfish into her mouth. She groaned, straining into the kiss and grinding against Zach. He circled her clit with his thumb, never quite touching it.

Logan pulled away with a chuckle. “Hungry? Maybe we should eat.”

“Fuck the food. We’re still playing.” Her grumble set them both off, and Zach slid a finger down, circling her slick entrance. If their plan was to make her insane, they were on the right road.

“Yeah, fuck the food, Logan. It’s your turn.” Zach’s teeth grazed her earlobe and added another layer to the slow assault on her senses.

“Truth or dare, Jazz.”

Oh God, she wanted to say dare. Zach lips massaged her ear. His tongue tracing the whorls drove away coherent thought. “Truth.”

“Do you love us?”

The sound of their breathing punctuated the silence stretching between them. Zach went still against her, his thumb grazing her clit. The wonderful caress maddened her. Her pulse pounded. Logan’s liquid brown eyes promised pure wickedness but demanded more.

“Jazz?” His lips framed her name and she stared at him. For the first time she really wished she faced both of them at the same time. “Do you love us?”

“Yes.”

Logan fought the urge to surge forward and kiss her. The declaration was enough. He wanted to bury his cock inside her so deep she forgot what it was like not to have them as a part of her. Tears dampened her cheeks, and worry shifted beneath the laughter sparkling in her eyes. “You love us. So why are you pushing us away?”

“That’s two truths.” She licked her lips, catching one of the tears creasing along the side of her mouth.

“I don’t care about the game. I care about you—we care about you.”

“But it’s still my turn.” Her chin lifted, stubborn pride bringing it up, and Zach’s hands glided out to hold her thighs open. Logan didn’t want to resist the pretty pink pussy gleaming at him, but he clenched his fist and stayed cemented to his chair.

“Fine. Your turn.” He ignored Zach’s mouthed ‘patience’ as he glared at her. If she loved them, there wasn’t a problem.

Or there shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t think we can make it clearer
…. Or maybe they could. But a mild resentment he didn’t want to own crawled up from his gut to sit on his heart. They would turn themselves inside out for her. If sitting by her bedside day in and day out, helping her with every little thing, not once asking for anything in return wasn’t enough—he didn’t know how else to prove it. He’d kissed every inch of her body, had stroked her through orgasm after orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of her.

He would never have enough of her.

His temper frayed, but he forced the strands back together. She needed him at the top of his game and they had a plan. He would stick to it.

“Okay, truth or dare,” she shifted a little, turning her flushed face to look at the man holding her. “Zach.”

“Truth.”

Patient son of a bitch
. Logan blew out a breath through his teeth. His jaws hurt from holding them together, but it was the only way to keep from spitting out every thought in his head.

She glanced back at him once, including him in her question—or at least he hoped that’s what it meant. “Where do we go from here? I love you both. I want to be with both of you. But how—how do we make that work?”

Logistics. She was hung up on logistics. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose until his eyes burned.
Of course she’s hung up on logistics. She’s a gunny. She knows how to look ahead, to look at the angles, to make the plans…c’mon Zach…make the answer count
.

Zach slid a leg back and lifted her, one-arming her onto his leg so she wasn’t quite straddling his lap. Logan understood why, but he missed the front row seat to her soft, pink flesh. He adjusted his own seat. The dress trousers weren’t designed for a raging hard on. If they convinced her to stay with them, he was going to have to take that into consideration in the next pair.

“It works because we want it to work. We stay honest with each other. You let us love you and share you. It’s like Vegas, baby—only we keep it with us forever.” Simple and straightforward, Zach didn’t pull the verbal punch. “You love us. We love you. We make it work.”

Jazz froze, her expression torn between wonder and disbelief. “You love me?”

Logan’s jaw went slack.
I’ll be damned. Nailed it
. They’d exposed another vulnerability.

“It’s not your turn.” Zach smiled at her almost apologetically. “You still wanted to play the game, so if you want that truth or you don’t believe what I said, then you can ask again when you get that opportunity.”

“Truth or dare, Logan?” Zach interrupted the emotion roiling in his brain.

“Truth.” He never looked away from Jazz.

“Do you want to marry her?”

“Hell. Yes.” Not even a moment’s hesitation creased his thoughts. “Truth or dare, Zach?”

Her attention split as her head turned back and forth between them. Zach stared steadily at her, too.

“Truth.” His best friend grinned.

“Do you want to marry her?” Logan knew the answer, but she needed to hear it.

“Abso-freaking-lutely.”

“How does that work? I can’t marry both of you.” Frustration slurred her words.

“Not your turn, darling.” Zach kissed the corner of her mouth, and she turned toward him without missing a beat. Her arms wound around his neck, and Logan’s temperature climbed with her skirt. Her bottom flashed at him, all smooth pale skin and rounded curves. Although she’d gained back some of the weight she’d lost in the hospital, he wouldn’t mind adding a few more pounds to her athletic form.

His palms itched to touch her, and he locked his legs to stay put.
Stick to the plan, Marine
.

Zach pulled back first, his lips mere inches from hers as he stared at her. “Truth or dare Logan?”

“Truth.” He practically growled the word.

“Does it matter to you which of us she legally marries?”

“Nope. Jasmine Cavanaugh. Jasmine Evans. They both sound good.” He reached across the table and trailed a finger down her bare arm. She turned her sexy face to him, and he grinned at her. “Hell, keep Winters. I don’t care what you call yourself as long as you’re ours.”

“You guys make it sound so damn easy.” She shook her head, the blush in her face enhancing the darkness in her eyes.

“No. We’re telling you the truth.” Logan caught her chin in his hand and urged her to look at him. “Easy is for sissies. We’re Marines. We want this to work, we make it work.”

“What about kids?”

“What about them?” Zach asked a hell of a lot more gently than Logan would have managed. “Don’t think we would make great dads?”

“I think you would make awesome fathers. Both of you. But I can only get pregnant one at a time—what if—what if it matters whose child it is?”

Logan squinted. They’d debated a lot of what went through her head. That subject hadn’t come up. He tried to imagine her pregnant, her tummy rounding and swelling with a baby growing in it. His gut jerked at the mental picture. She’d look so fucking gorgeous. It would soften the harder planes of her body, thicken her waist, her hips would spread. His cock strained to the point of pain.

He added the knowledge that it was Zach’s baby in her belly.
Would I really care
?

“See, not such an easy question.” Jazz bit her lip and her vulnerability struck him.

Her inner strength amazed him. It fueled her struggles, turning her challenges into battles to be overcome—but this mattered to her.
We matter. We matter and if we fuck it up—that’s what she’s worried about. She doesn’t want to hurt us, but she doesn’t want to be hurt
.

“We plan.” Zach broke the silence, and he held up a hand when she opened her mouth as though to talk. “We plan for it. I’d love your child whether it was mine or his. Hell, fucked up as it sounds, I’d love it if it belonged to some other guy.”

Violence flooded Logan at the very idea. He’d strangle any other man who tried to put his hands on her. But Zach’s gaze ordered patience so he kept his mouth shut.

For now
.

“We plan for when you get pregnant. We’re practically a condom ad now. We don’t get pregnant till we decide to do it and then we flip a coin. Or draw straws. Whoever goes first, the other goes second. That means two kids guaranteed, babe. But only if you want them. If you don’t want kids, we don’t have to have them.”

“What if I get pregnant anyway? Condoms break. Accidents happen.”

“I am sure as shit not missing out on a life with you based on a ‘what if,’ Jazz.” Logan stood and loomed over both of them. His patience was done. “You’re in or you’re out. Everything else is crap we can deal with. Marry us. I don’t care what the law says or whether we can file it only once, you marry Zach, you’re marrying me and vice versa. We’re a package deal. What’s your answer?”

Zach sighed, but Logan shook his head. They could address her fears all day. Hell, he had more than a few of his own. What did he really know about being a husband? Not crap. But he did know he wanted her—he was never
not
going to want her. They’d let her go after that night in Vegas because one night did not a lifetime make.

But this wasn’t a one-night stand. Not anymore.

“You don’t have to answer right now.” Zach soothed and she appreciated it, more than he knew, but Logan was right. She had to be in this or out of it.

“It would be easier if I trusted my brain.” That confession cost, but they deserved to hear it. Logan’s glare dimmed and he backed off a step. Pressing a hand to Zach’s shoulder for balance, she stood up. Her right leg dragged. It would likely have a bit of a drag from now on, particularly when she was stressed. The doctors warned her that nothing was conclusive. The problem with brain trauma, they knew what it affected, but there were no guarantees in her recovery.

They couldn’t predict her progress or her long-term diagnosis. It was one day at a time, one crisis at a time. Her prognosis was far from negative, but it didn’t change the position of the rock and hard place sandwiching her.

“See, I don’t remember thinking about us as a long-term thing.” She smoothed down her skirt. She didn’t care about being nude in front of them, but she wanted the barrier, at least while she sorted it out. “I remember living in the moment. Living for the conversations, the talks, the emails—and the leave. But we never talked about forever. We never talked about what it would mean to be all three of us. I want to believe that it will work and that we can make it happen. Like I want to believe that I will gain full function in my arm and my leg. But I don’t—life doesn’t give us guarantees.”

Zach leaned forward, his hands clasped together. This was not how they planned the night. She read it in both their expressions. Logan retreated behind an emotionless mask, his eyes narrowed. Quiet fury radiated off of him.

“You’re angry with me for being hurt and for hurting you both. I’m angry at me, too.” Up until that moment, she hadn’t realized how upset with herself she was. She’d screwed up. She took off her helmet, an IED hit her, and she’d been injured. It could have been so much worse. She could have died or lost a limb.

She looked away from the two of them and limped over to the food. So many mouth watering choices laid out at her fingertips. All she had to do was grab them.

“Jazz?” Of course Zach reached out. Zach who wanted to coddle her, wrap her in cotton, and keep her safe. He never failed to treat her like a lady, even though he respected the fact that she was a Marine. He was quick with the smile, the laugh, and the easy jest.

Logan was harder, edgier, and less forgiving. He demanded so much from himself, it seemed a small wonder that he allowed anyone close to him. He lived with his scars, displayed them proudly, and he didn’t let them inhibit him. Battle-forged like steel. Heated until he withstood anything, and he shared that strength as easily as breathing.

“I love you both so much it hurts.” She didn’t look at them. She needed to get it all out in the open without the distraction they provided. Because looking at them made her want to throw all caution to the wind and damn the consequences. A person could do that when it was a one-night thing or a fling. She didn’t want a fling.

She wanted the forever they offered.

“But I’m a mess. You’ve both heard my doctors. You’ve both watched me struggle. We have no certainty that I’ll get better—hell, I still have seizures.”

“It’s been seven weeks, Jazz. Cut yourself a break. It took me a year to walk normally again.” Logan’s tone betrayed his investment and argued against the retreat in his expression. “I know you’ll do it.”

“But is that fair to either of you?” She gave in to the urge and turned. They stood side by side, looking magnificent in their matching midnight blue suits. Logan’s dark allure complimented Zach’s golden appeal.

“You realize that you’re insulting us, right?” Zach lifted his brows in challenge.

“I’m not trying to, I feel like we need to have it all out in the open. Because I want to say yes—to both of you.” She’d never been so glad of a choice in her life as the one to turn around and face them when she said that. Logan straightened, his shoulders relaxed and relief flooded his expression. Zach merely smiled that singular, heart-stopping grin of his.

“We’re all damaged, babe. Some scars you see and some you can’t.” Logan nodded to Zach. “Even pretty boy, here. You want truth—you want it all out in the open? No, I wasn’t thinking about forever until I thought we might lose you. Those hours we waited to hear who in your unit had been hit were the worst in my life.”