Page 57 of Her Silver Fox Mountain Men

“I don’t want to put pressure on anyone—not you, not Oliver, certainly not Roman. I just wonder sometimes where all this will lead,” I say.

“Honestly, it’ll lead wherever you want it to lead,” James replies, and plants a sweet kiss on my cheek. I melt into him. “I’m open to more, and I know Oliver and Roman are, too. I thought we made that clear not too long ago.”

“Hm. It was more a question of how far I was willing to take it, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“A relationship between the four of us,” I muse aloud. “How would that work in the long term?”

He ponders the question, briefly gazing out the window. Outside, it’s an endless splash of dark reds and purples in the sky, brown, yellow and orange leaves, and a sea of evergreens, as far as the eye can see.

“You’d be with all of us,” James replies. “It’s completely up to you how time is spent with us, whether it’s with one, two, or all three of us, much like we’ve done up to this point. You’d never do without. We’d look after you, provide for you in whatever ways you need. We’d be together, like we are now, committed to you and only you.”

I chuckle softly. “Lord knows having the three of you, I would never even entertain the idea of being with anyone else. Hell, even just one of you would be more than enough. It feels overwhelming at times.”

“I bet it does. And whenever it gets to be too much, please tell us so that we can give you the space you need,” he says. “We respectyour boundaries, just as you respect ours.”

“What about having children? A family?”

He gives me a curious look, his gaze softening. “Do you want children of your own, Elise?”

“Someday, yeah.” Someday is coming sooner rather than later, whether I want it to or not, but that’s a topic for another day. “Though, technically speaking, you already have a family.”

“Yes, but I understand you wanting children of your own.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m head over heels with Tricia and Ainsley. I could easily love them as though they were my own.”

“I know. It shows every minute that you’re with them.”

My heart fills with warmth and hope fueled by a fierce desire to move away from my past, to build something permanent. I fear I’ve simply been trying to outrun my shadow this whole time.

“All of that sounds nice,” I whisper, resting my head on his chest.

“We could make it happen.”

“Let’s start right now,” I say, choosing to ignore recent events. I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to stick around and it’ll break my heart to leave. It’ll break their hearts, too. I might as well make the most of what we have.

“What do you mean?”

I sit up and straddle him, eagerly wrapping my arms around his strong neck as I pull him into a hungry, desperate kiss. “Let’s keep going and don’t look back,” I whisper, my lips brushing over his. His cock stirs between my legs, and I inwardly curse the layers of fabric between us.

James doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips his hands beneath my ass and raises me with him as he gets up, carrying me into the living room. As evening settles over the mountain ridge, our clothes end up on the floor. We kiss like maniacs, feverish and ravenous for one another.

I let my fingers run over the hair that covers his broad, muscular chest. I trace the scars, the marks of battles fought that he brought home from the service. Each tells a story, though he hasn’t been very open with that particular chapter of his past. I stop to better explore one specific scar, just below his rib.

“Where’d you get this one?” I ask quietly.

“Kosovo,” he says, his chest rising and falling with each deep inhale.

“I hope you’ll be able to tell me about it someday.”

“I’ll tell you everything, Elise. But these are long ugly stories best told over a glass of wine or ten,” he smiles and pulls me into another kiss.

His naked body is glued to mine, my breasts squished against his sculpted torso. His heartbeat echoes my own, frantic and accelerating as his erection nestles against the hot junction of my thighs. Liquid arousal trickles from my folds, my core tightening, aching to be filled beyond its limits.

“Turn around, baby,” James demands, and I gleefully oblige.

He bends me over and parts my legs, one hand eagerly and mercilessly slapping my ass.

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