Complete Abandon (6 page)

Josie wrapped her arm around Laura’s shoulder and squeezed. “We really will be fine. Just hand her over and go have fun with your guys. Get your groove on.”

Groove? Was this the ’70s? The comment made Laura laugh again, and Josie took the opportunity to slide her hands around Jillian’s little striped ribcage, expertly guiding her little feet through the baby wrap and—
voila!
The baby rested on Josie’s hip as she tightened the cloth to secure her on.

“That was perfect!” Laura gasped, genuinely impressed.

“Gah!” Jillian gurgled in agreement, bright eyes turning to Laura, then focusing on the ends of Josie’s hair.

Warm fingers slipped through hers. “Let’s go,” Mike urged, pulling gently. With feet feeling like concrete, she lurched along next to him, feeling both heavier and lighter with each step away from her little girl. As they crossed the threshold, she willed herself not to look back, knowing the baby might cry.

Instead, it was Laura who cried as they walked to the Jeep. Dylan was standing next to it, arms outstretched toward her. As his arms enveloped her, the scent of aftershave and his musk mingled in her senses as she inhaled, throat shaky.

He smelled so good. So
man
.

And all
hers
.

A dull ache emerged deep inside, a desire for something she hadn’t even thought to want in a very, very long time, emerged with such force she closed her eyes and tried to hold it back. It was too much, too fast, and too hard.

And...so was Dylan.

Her hand, as if driven by a will of its own, slid over his hip and down the front, fingers finding the outline of his straining erection against his pants. His sharp inhale pleased her. Ah, yes—this power. She’d forgotten about the thrill of arousing a man, how a simple caress could drive him to a frenzy, the promise of more and the tease of not now so intoxicating.

Knowing they could complete whatever she suggested pleased her, too.

A sharp stab of doubt hit her as he leaned in for a kiss.

Her hands found the same man she’d first touched fifteen months ago. What did his hands find when he reached for her? A very different Laura, with a body that had changed too much.

She
was too
much
.

And just like that, the light turned off inside and she pulled back, leaving a very confused Dylan. Mike, thankfully, saved her.

“Let’s go! The minutes are ticking, and we have a surprise for you, Laura,” Mike said, voice a little too tight to be cheerful as he slid behind the steering wheel. His eye cut to the rear-view mirror and met Dylan’s, in the back seat. They both seemed to alternate between compassion for her and ruthless efficiency. She couldn’t blame them; they were probably worried she’d back out. She dutifully buckled herself into the front passenger seat, and as the Jeep peeled out of the driveway, gravel kicking up and pinging against the sides of the vehicle, all three shared a huge, deep, loud sigh of relief.

“My God, we did it!” Laura laughed. Each foot away from the cabin made her feel conflicted, yet she breathed easier. Maybe the conflicted feeling was what she thought she was supposed to feel, and not actually what she really felt. An entire day with no baby attached to her seemed unreal.

Leaving the cabin behind felt like a kind of escape, too. It wasn’t that she didn’t go out; she and Jillian went to stores, shopped, played at playgrounds, and took a weekly baby swimming class. But this was different. And as Mike’s hand snaked across the gear shift to hold hers, she remembered that her guys were waiting with bated breath to get into bed and unleash some pent up desires, too.

When had she become “that woman,” the one who wasn’t interested? Every sex toy you could imagine had once lived in her bedside table, and her rich inner fantasy world had created sex positions that just plain old defied the laws of physics. She, Mike and Dylan had collectively explored about half of those—and now...nothing. She was happy to please them, but not really interested in
being
pleased.

Why? What had changed?

Within five minutes, Mike was pulling in to a small driveway at the edge of the ski resort. “What’s this?” she asked, curious. “I thought we were going in to the city for the night.”

“It’s a surprise,” he said in a low, suggestive voice. As the road narrowed, the brown leaves clinging to trees that should have released their burden by now, large pines appeared, tall and foreboding.

And then—a tiny cabin, the size of a turret, with a winding staircase around the outside. Made of unfinished timber, it looked like a fairy cottage, delicate and sturdy all at once, like a handcrafted home out of a fantasy movie.

“What is this?” she marveled. The cabin was two stories, but small. A wall of glass faced south, and she could see a small deck near what appeared to be the front door. On the deck sat a wooden hot tub, like something you’d see in Finland.

“A new property for the resort. We’re testing out little eco-cabins, to see if we can encourage ski tourism.”

The Jeep came to a halt and they piled out.

“And this is where we’re staying? Boy, this sure is remote,” she said, intrigued. The driveway was a good eighth of a mile, and as she scanned the full circle of the site, there wasn’t any sign of civilization as far as she could see. The cabin itself almost seemed to have sprung up out of nature, Laura’s view took in the timber steps, made from solid logs cut to fit, and the solar panels on the roof.

“Solar?”

“I said it was an eco-cabin,” Mike reminded her. “We have electricity, running water, and a grey water recycling system.”

“Is there a bathroom?”

“Yep. No worries. It has all the luxuries!” he assured her. A deck light glowed and she realized how close to winter they were. It was just barely 4pm and already dusk was settling in. They had to be back at 10am tomorrow. An image of Jillian hit her, how soft her skin was, how her chubby fists felt in Laura’s hair.

“We have everything we could possibly need,” Dylan added, a bit cryptically, hefting some luggage in each hand. Mike grabbed a bag as well, his other hand reaching into his front pocket. Watching him fumble and dig for the keys, Laura saw ample evidence of just how excited Mike was for this night. The two men emptied the Jeep in two trips. Laura hung back as they finished unloading, joining Mike on the front deck when they were done; Dylan remained inside. Mike’s arm slid about her waist, confirming what his jeans had already hinted: this night was planned as a sexfest.

Mike gave her a look of warmth, love and teasing that made her toes tingle and—for one lovely, fleeting second—she felt transformed. All her worries and insecurities disappeared as if desiccated and blown away on the wind, carried off like dust she needn’t ever worry about. The thought of making love with him made her body rev up reflexively…

 But her mind quickly ground to a screeching halt. Sex was the last thing she wanted to want. As if dragging her limbs through concrete, she moved toward him, a sense of dread and angst filling her. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this! Making love was what she was supposed to want, right? Stalling for time, she pretended she was still admiring the cabin. She noted there were no curtains on any windows, and why would they need them?

They were completely isolated. Only a deer or a fox would see them if they walked around nude.

Poor deer. Wouldn’t want to see me naked, either
, she thought, and then clamped down on the negative words.
Stop it!
This intrusive voice wouldn’t stop cutting her down, and she wished desperately she could spend the night curled up with her eReader, even here. The only time the voice went away was when she kept her mind occupied with books. Crawling into someone else’s sensual world, where the hero and heroine possessed so many faults, and love overcame all...

“Hey,” Mike said gently, unlocking his knees to level himself with her, hands cradling her face. “What’s going on inside that gorgeous head?”

Panic kicked in to high gear. How could she admit what she was feeling? Impossible. She didn’t want him to doubt that she loved them. Or wanted them. Or needed them. But how could she say what she was really experiencing? The fissures in their relationship that this kind of revelation would bring were just too dangerous.

Better to keep it to herself.

A shaky, deep breath and she caught his eyes, making herself fake a brightness and freedom she definitely did not feel. “Just…thinking about Jillian.” Not a lie. Well, not...technically.

“You can think about her tomorrow,” he said in a dark, steamy voice, his lips taking hers. His hands were on her, fingers sinking in to her waist, lips owning her and then his tongue seeking to find her, all the motion so fast she felt a fire flare within, making every cell warm instantly.

As his tongue traced her teeth and his arms tightened around her, whatever train of thought she had until that moment died quickly. Melting into his arms, she was dimly aware of a light vanilla and sandalwood aroma mixing with the taste of Mike, making her wonder… Their sex life as a triad had morphed over the past year. Sometimes she slept with Mike. Sometimes Dylan. Sometimes both. No one seemed to get jealous or bitter or angry: they made it all up as they went along. Often if she was with one of them like this, the other would join in, a second set of warm hands were on her, always very welcome if not expected. A flash of memory, of Dylan’s palm on the small of her back, then riding down to grasp her ass, made her smile through Mike’s kiss, which seemed to ignite him. Her mind began to nag more and more insistently, urging her to note the absence of Dylan’s hands on her, and finally made her break away from Mike and ask, “Dylan? What is he—?”

Smiling, Mike pushed the door to the cabin open. As she turned, she saw the answer.

Candles.

Hundreds of them. Dylan had been lighting them, encircling the interior of the round little house, a glow that warmed her further. How precious. How startling and wonderful. As dusk settled in out here on the deck, the warmth the candles cast over the interior made the cabin seem like a sanctuary.

She and Mike stepped through the door just as Dylan crossed by it, pecking a quick kiss on her as he walked past, his target the fireplace. The care they’d taken to set up this moment made her appreciate both men.

Mike stared down at her, eyes ablaze. “Some wine?”

“I’d love some,” she replied, giving his arm a caress of thanks, of affection, of appreciation. She took in the rest of the interior. Sexfest, indeed. The bed was enormous—bigger than a California King—and dead center in the middle of the circular room. A cream-colored net, suspended from the ceiling, draped down over the huge, down-comforter-covered mattress, more pillows sprinkled about than an entire Bed, Bath and Beyond could even contain. Underneath the scented candles’ perfume, the room smelled like the fresh cedar the cabin was made of, a scent of comfort.

Mike brought her a shining wine glass half full of a lovely ros
é
. She gulped half down without thinking and he chuckled. Eschewing alcohol because she was nursing, she hadn’t had more than a sip here and there since Jillian had been born. Drinking so much so fast would hit her hard. Loosening up couldn’t hurt, right? “Same old Laura,” Mike laughed. Her lack of appreciation for good wine had been a joke when they’d met, and now it was a running tease between them.

The answering laugh came out of her unbidden, her muscles relaxing, the room like something out of a fantasy, all a pale, creamy glow, with the darkened forest peeking in through the wide windows like a protective mother, tree branches embracing the tall, circular building. It really felt as if this cabin had grown out of the ground like a tree, the knots in the wood visible in the walls, the scent of cedar filling the room.

Laura sipped the rest of her glass and said nothing when Mike, after pouring a glass for Dylan, refilled hers without asking. The three stood and faced the large picture window, eyes unfocused and lost in the splendor of the view as the dusky, pink-streaked sky faded with a sepia tone.

It was the most time she’d spent just
being
with them since the baby had been born.

The baby. Jillian. Motherhood. For a short half hour she’d somehow pushed all thoughts of the baby aside and taken halting steps toward just being Laura again.

And it had felt good.

Reproach and guilt poured in. She batted it away. Jillian was fine. Fine. Alex and Josie could manage just fine.

Fine.

And she
still
felt good. She felt damn good.

Speaking of things that felt good...Dylan’s arm found its way around her waist and he kissed her neck, the scent of wine and citrus mixed with his earthy, spicy aftershave. A deep inhale and another kiss, this one below her ear, and she felt her heart pick up, her body responding with a finely-tuned keening that made her feel empty, wanting him in her. The sudden rush of warmth and eagerness surprised her, making her smile, for it also pleased her.

Maybe more of the old Laura remained than just her wine cluelessness.

Maybe she really could find her way back, for one night, to the way they were.

Dylan turned her toward him, finished his glass of wine in one big swig, and with a tight power in his face that she would have thought was anger if she didn’t know otherwise, reached for her hand. He pulled her toward the bed. He didn’t ask.

This wasn’t up for discussion.

Mike—to Laura’s deep amusement—finished the rest of his wine with an audible gulp and joined them. The air in the room was suddenly cold and hot at once, the candles making the bed seem to float in the middle of the room. Acutely aware of every muscle in Dylan’s hand, the way the hair at the top of his chest peeked out from the V of his shirt, how Mike’s tall, lean body cast a shadow in the ever-darkening room, Laura felt transported. Loved. Wanted.

Desired.

Four hands made ready work of removing her clothes as Laura closed her eyes, so vulnerable and accustomed to the two men, yet hesitant and a bit shy. Dylan eased her heathered-lilac shirt up over her head, hands sending the shirt to the ground, then cupping her full breasts with a sense of want she could feel in her core, her body tightening and opening at the same time, ready for what he so desperately seemed to want to give. Mike’s fingers pulled at the zipper at her waist, letting her skirt drop to the ground. She slid her shoes off, now in her panties and bra, hating how awkward and self-conscious she felt.