Paired Pursuit (10 page)

But this was guilt-free sex, no strings. She didn't have to jump into a relationship with them, let alone marriage. She'd just have to harden her heart so as not to get used to having them around. That way, when they ultimately left, she wouldn't be so heartbroken.

At least, she hoped she wouldn't.

Finn pressed his tongue to her clit at the same moment Gareth took her breasts in his hands, causing a spike of pleasure that arced her off the bed. She emitted a little yelp of surprise, but with lazy confidence, Finn pinned her thighs down. What he was doing with his mouth was nothing short of glorious.

Sex Ed had never covered
this
. If Mrs. Jenkins even knew it was possible with two men, she'd probably have expired on the spot.

Hell, she was going to expire if Finn kept doing that. Her giggle was overridden by a moan, and she gripped the blankets, tilting her head back until it rested against Gareth's shoulder.

“Relax, baby,” he murmured. “Come for us. Let it happen.”

She couldn't resist his voice. It catapulted her into orgasm, wiping away all thoughts of Sex Ed and birth control and relationships, and leaving her breathless and limp. For a few moments she couldn't even distinguish one body part from another. She was simply floating, eyes closed, anchored by two sets of arms.

When they lifted her, arranging her on her belly, she complied eagerly, opening her eyes to find Gareth's cock in front of her. He made no demands, watching her face with vigilant, careful eyes. But Mari wasn't willing to wait. Since she was braced on her arms, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the tip of his erection.

He muttered an oath and edged closer until she was able to part her lips and slide them across his thick, smooth head. She let her tongue swirl down his shaft…and nearly bit down as Finn entered her. She was wet enough that it was done in one fell swoop, rocking her forward almost onto Gareth's lap.

Recovering, she took Gareth's cock deeper, until he let out a guttural groan that brought her desire roaring back to full flame. When Finn pulled back and thrust again, she was prepared, bracing herself against the mattress. She used his thrusts to time her own movements, until Gareth touched her head in warning.

“Gonna come. Ah God. Now.”

Hot semen splashed across her tongue, and she quickly closed her throat to keep from choking. Somehow she managed to swallow it all, dropping her forehead to Gareth's knee as Finn began to take her more roughly, his rhythm no longer so controlled.

She was nearing the edge again, making little, helpless cries with her face buried in the blankets. White-hot pleasure rushed through her as Gareth thumbed caresses across her breasts, kneading them with his big hands. Then he reached farther down, fingers circling her clit as Finn pounded into her.

The blankets dissolved as she seemed to free-fall through space and time. Her throat vibrated, but she had no idea how loudly she'd cried out. Gareth's hands gentled and withdrew, and Finn tensed, giving one last hard thrust before pumping deep within her.

Mari lacked the energy to raise her head. All she could do was lie there and breathe. Finn withdrew from her and she heard him getting up, the floorboards creaking under his feet.

“No,” she murmured.
Don't leave me. Not yet.

“We're still here, sweetheart.” Gareth rested a hand on her head, stroking her hair. “He'll be back in a minute.”

And he was, returning with a washcloth which he pressed between her legs. He chuckled when she jerked, holding her still. “Wouldn't want you sleeping in a wet spot, would we?”

“I don't think sleeping is in the cards until much later,” she muttered, and turned over. Her instinct to shield her body was stymied by Finn's raised eyebrow, and she moved her arms away. “But thanks for the wet-spot-prevention technique. Do you practice it often?”

Oops, her mouth had run away from her. She was becoming cocky again, having wilted so long under Tim's glare. But Finn didn't seem to mind. “Not often at all. Want a shower?”

“Wouldn't mind, but I'm not sure I can get up.”

Both of them chuckled, getting her to her feet within moments. She drew the line, however, at them escorting her into the bathroom, climbing into the shower by herself and quickly washing. She had vague memories of being able to spend half an hour under a spray of hot water back when she was a teenager, but those days were over. Now the spray was little more than a lukewarm trickle, and the soap and shampoo were homemade.

On the upside, there were no more commercials of slyly smiling female models tossing their perfect hair in those annoyingly ubiquitous shampoo advertisements.

Once dry, Mari brushed her hair, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The shirt had patches on its elbows but it was hard-wearing and would keep the sun off. The outside sun. God, how was she going to manage to get herself through the gate? She was already petrified.

The men watched her dress. They made no comment, but neither did they take their eyes off her. When she was done, they stood and followed her from the room.

She was a little shaky going down the stairs, but the Twins remained so close that she knew one of them would catch her should she fall. It really was a massive relief to her that they'd agreed to accompany her outside the walls.

Still, it didn't quite quell the deep-seated panic of being in the open. Carter's screams still echoed in the recesses of her mind, especially his last, cut-off shriek. She shivered.

“Here.” Finn pressed a glass of water into her hands. “You should stay hydrated.”

“Especially after what we just did.” A chair screeched as Gareth sat down beside her. Since she was looking straight at Finn, Mari didn't miss the faint flicker of surprise in his expression as he glanced at Gareth. The corners of his lips twitched upward, and when he turned back to Mari he seemed…looser, somehow.

Hell, she felt looser. Happy, even. Although she'd be a lot happier when this jaunt outside the City was over and done with.

She sipped her water, drumming her fingers on the table with an excess of nervous energy. “Maybe we can put this off until tomorrow. It's getting later, and Patrice isn't back yet.”

“It's only nine,” Gareth said. “We'll go as soon as Patrice is here, and you'll be safe with us.”

“Yeah. We'll carry you back if need be.” Finn reached for the bag of muffins, cutting one of the remaining ones in half. He slid one of the halves over to her.

The Twins had almost certainly done many out-of-City expeditions, she reminded herself. They'd hardly been fazed when the train had broken down, and they'd fought like tenth dan black belts crossed with Superman. So she forced herself to relax and nibble at the muffin.

As she ate, they formulated a plan, the men quizzing her about her father's habits and out-of-City trips. She was relieved they hadn't been angry about her not telling them about her father. She tried to make up for it, telling them everything she remembered, but it was difficult to recall what life had been like here, especially since she'd only been fourteen when they'd fled.

Even so, she easily recalled the stress her father had been under. He'd led them from the Oregon wilds to Seattle, back down to Portland. Then they'd traveled to Scar City and finally, to Flagstaff and relative safety. For much of that time, he'd muttered about aliens following them. He and her mother had fought about it, generally in furious whispers after they thought Mari had fallen asleep.

“He was scared,” she told the Twins. “Ever since we left our cabin for Seattle, he'd been convinced the aliens were after him—and him in particular. Mom thought he was being paranoid, that it was coincidental that the aliens mass-attacked Seattle shortly after we got there. Then when we reached Portland, it was a similar story—mass attack a week after our arrival. Then Scar City…”

“You lived here for about two years?” Finn asked.

Mari nodded. “Yes, and the attacks never let up. Every week the Barks tried something, and we'd been hearing on the radio that they'd generally been leaving Cities alone.”

“Did they attack Flagstaff after you went there?” Gareth regarded her over his own glass of water.

“No. I mean, there were random attacks, but nothing on the scale we were used to.”

“Tell us more about Dr. Aquino being scared, please,” Finn requested. “Did he confide in you at all?”

She shook her head. “I remember one day he went outside the City walls in the morning. When he came back, he'd found something that made him absolutely terrified.”

Dad hadn't admitted as much, of course, but she'd seen it in the way he carried himself, his eyes darting from side to side as if expecting an attack at any minute. He'd bolted his meager dinner and immediately left to pace the walls, not coming back until the middle of the night. The next day, her parents had fought, a loud one this time, with her mother protesting over and over that she wasn't willing to pack up and start from scratch
again
.

Yet within the week, they had taken the train to Flagstaff and done just that.

“Where did your father go when he went outside the walls? Which direction?”

She cast about in memory. “There was a ship he talked about… One of the wrecks near the mothership that caused the scars.”

“Was it shot down by us?” Gareth asked.

“No, I think this one was more or less intact. That's why he wanted to go check it out. Some people wanted to try to move it, or break it apart, but in the end, people left it alone. Guess they were too busy focusing on survival to go mess with alien stuff.”

“That's a good starting point,” Finn said. He pulled out a map, pushing the muffin debris aside to unroll it across the table. “Yeah, it's marked here. There's another wreck nearby, one that was shot down by antiaircraft missiles, so we'll be looking for the wreck to the north.”

The Twins went into what she could only term as soldier mode, chatting rapid-fire to each other about longitude, latitude, sunset times, weapons, provisions. She listened with half an ear, gazing around the kitchen from her seat. There were a few little knickknacks decorating the room—a pink-haired miniature troll, seashells on the windowsill. A framed picture of three smiling people hung near the cupboard.

How long had it been since she'd sat in an actual kitchen? Her shipping-container dwelling had possessed only the basics—certainly not anything like this. It brought back memories of her childhood that were almost uncomfortable to think about.

Undoubtedly, Mari would never again sit in a kitchen eating chocolate ice cream. Her family's house in Portland was probably long gone, burned down or worse. And it was stupid to get all emotional about stuff she'd never do again.

Gareth mercifully interrupted that train of thought by rising and striding to the door. “I'll be back in a bit.”

“Where's he going?” she asked Finn.

Finn gave her an appraising look. “Back to our place to get supplies. Are you okay?”

“Just daydreaming.” She shrugged, tracing a pattern on the table.

“About what?”

It was strange to have someone so interested in her. Mari's best friend, Sara, hadn't had much time to chat after her marriage, and Dad's sickness stole the keen edge of his mind. So Mari floundered for a few minutes, during which Finn remained patient, watching her steadily.

“I—was remembering the days before. I don't do that a whole lot because it seems self-defeating.”

“Hard to forget certain comforts, though.”

“Did you have many of those at your…Complex?”

“We weren't pampered.” It was her turn to wait him out. He broke eye contact, shrugged after thirty seconds of silence. “Some of the scientists felt we ought to be toughened up, kept in deliberately poor conditions as training.”

“Assholes.”

“Yeah. Fortunately, their views tended to be counterbalanced. Our DNA is primarily human, with some modifications, so the psychiatrists involved insisted on a more normalized childhood experience. So there was a foster-mother and father for each set of Twins.”

Primarily
human, with some modifications? She recalled hearing some fuss about that when she was very young, but most of the furor had died down by the time she was old enough to understand, overshadowed by the approaching alien ships.

“And now?” she asked. “Who runs the Complex?”

He gave her a tight smile. “Depends who you ask.”

For a moment, she entertained the crazy notion of going there with the Twins, living there for a while and seeing for herself. Then she startled out of that fantasy as Patrice walked through the door. Tank bounded in with a wide Rottweiler smile and curled up in his bed after a perfunctory sniff at them.

“Let's get going.” Gareth strode in on the old woman's heels, a large pack strapped to his back. Sunlight glinted off the hilt of a knife at his belt.

“Now?” Mari squeaked.

“If not now, when?” Gareth held out his arm and she took it by reflex, grateful for his strength as he assisted her up.

“Next week would do,” she muttered.

“Do you think you're not physically capable of the journey?” Gareth asked.

No, you've screwed me silly
, she wanted to say.
I can't even walk straight now.

But she drew herself up, shook her head. “I can make it.”

“You won't have to walk far, actually. I requisitioned a vehicle before I bought the muffins. Perks of being government-employed.” Gareth led her to the door, Finn following. Patrice waved a good-bye, chuckling when Finn pointed to the muffin he'd saved for her.

“Thanks. You three be safe now, hear?”

“We will.” Finn shut the door behind them and turned. Immediately, a frown creased his face, and Mari followed his gaze. Two junkies crouched in an alleyway across from Patrice's house, one perched on a bucket. One of them looked intently at the door, nudging his comrade and muttering something.