Page 52 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

None of us know what to say, because the fact is—in the morning I have to leave. We’ll have to face reality, and in reality, we’re not friends, let alone passionate lovers.

My mind swirls with a mix of emotions. Regret for having given in to my desire? Relief that I finally got them out of my system? Or maybe it’s anticipation for what comes next.

The creak of the floorboard overheard catches all of our attention.

JT.

We all freeze, our hearts pounding in unison. In the sudden silence, I can practically hear the blood rushing through my veins.

Then in silent coordination, Ben and Hank quickly finish getting dressed.

“Goodnight,” Ben mouths as Hank gives me a short wave. They shut the door behind them leaving me alone and feeling more confused than ever.

What just happened? And more importantly—what now?

14

HANK

The morning sun filters through the trees spreading across the gravel driveway as I guide the truck down the winding road toward town. The storm has passed, leaving the air crisp and clean, but there’s a heaviness in my chest that no amount of sunshine can lift.

Mac sits quietly next to me, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape.

As I steal a glance her way, I’m struck by her beauty in a way that catches me off guard. The soft morning light shines through the window, highlighting the smooth lines of her face, and the deep, rich tones of her skin that speak to her Cheyenne heritage. There’s something almost otherworldly about her, a kind of quiet strength that radiates from her, even when she’s silent. Her raven-black hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, she suddenly turns and her dark eyes, framed by thick lashes, catch mine.

I clench my jaw.

I don’t know if I should apologize for last night.

God. We must seem like assholes. My knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.

We fuck her—hell—take her virginity and then kick her out. It doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s not like I’m much of a good guy anyway.

My cock twitches with the thought of her tight pussy, I picture her back arching and relieve the sweet little whimpers that fell from her lips last night as I pounded into her.

With some difficulty, I shift my focus back on the road, the rumble of the engine filling the silence between us.

The guilt gnaws away at me, a dull ache that’s settled deep in my gut.

I know it’s more than guilt. I don’t want to see her go.

I want to apologize, tell her I’m sorry for the way we acted like two chained up dogs finally set free, but the words are stuck in my throat.

Apologies have never come easy to me. I’ve spent too many years building up walls, and hiding behind them.

I still can’t figure out why the hell all of it felt so damn right.

But it doesn’t matter how last night felt. She’s still a risk to our family. The little voice in my head reminds me over and over as if JT is sitting on my shoulder right now.

But sitting here now, with the sun shining and the world moving on, I realize how wrong I’ve been about her.

The road stretches out ahead, and I ease off the gas, slowing the truck as we approach the outskirts of town. The small shops and cafes come into view, the familiar sights of home, but they feel distant, like they belong in someone else’s life.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally, the words rough and awkward, but I force them out anyway, needing her to hear them. “For last night.”

Mac turns to me, her eyes searching mine, a hint of surprise in her expression. "You don't need to apologize, Hank."

"No, I do. We both do. The way we acted... it wasn't right. Taking advantage of you like that."

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