Catching Hell (Complete Collection) Page 8

  Not as awkward as they were with Wesley though. He hadn’t approached me again, and he certainly hadn’t come on to me in any fashion, but he watched me a lot. I tried not to read too much into it, figuring I was the only female he’d seen in months, so it was no wonder he liked to see my body.

  It was still damned awkward though, and I decided it was time to move out of the bunkroom and into a room of my own. I was alone in the base again, having done my morning target practice, pleased to see I had an eighty percent accuracy rate now, and I’d completed my exercise routine first thing. I was pretty much doing that on my own now, since Wesley only showed up every now and then. When he did, I made more mistakes because his hungry gaze remained on me.

  I felt awful for not reciprocating the attraction, but I was certain I wasn’t ever going to feel that for him, so I didn’t want to encourage him. There was definitely a distance between us, which saddened me. I was certain we could be good friends if he could ease off the blatant sexual interest.

  I hated to admit it, but it was because of him that I was moving into my own room. I’d woken the night before, my eyes snapping open as prickles of awareness went down my spine. Turned on my left side, the first thing I saw was Wesley’s eyes in the dark, the only illumination provided by the small LED light in the corner. He’d taken the bunk next to mine, moving there without explanation to anyone, though I didn’t know if anyone had asked his reasons anyway. When there were twelve beds available, he could have given me a little room, but I was certain he’d moved closer in hopes of swaying me.

  Last night, I found him staring at me as he’d masturbated. His hand had been under the cover, but from the rapid movements and the way his face had taken on a purple tinge of exertion, coupled with his ragged breathing, I had no doubt he’d been jerking off while looking at me.

  There was no law against it—hell, there was no law against much of anything anymore—but it still bothered me. It was done without my permission, and maybe that was why I found the act repulsive. I’d slammed my eyes shut and pretended to sleep until I heard him groan softly a moment later, assuming he was done. I hadn’t opened my eyes and looked at him for the rest of the night, even though his soft snores had filled the room a few minutes later.

  It was time for me to have some privacy, so today I was heaving furniture and turning into a sweaty mess.

  I’d lucked out and found an office that was posh by Army base standards. It actually had a couch in it, and I was delighted to discover it folded out into a queen-size bed, though the mattress looked thin and uncomfortable. Maybe I could bolster it with a couple of mattresses from the currently unused bunks. The men hadn’t brought back anyone else on their supply runs. They’d seen a few people, but everyone they ran across was skittish and hid or ran away. It made sense. When a person saw four hardened men coming at them with large guns, they tended to get out of the way if they had any brains in their heads.

  Other than the couch, a filing cabinet, and a wall full of awards for someone identified as the base commander, the only remaining fixture in the room was the huge desk. I didn’t think it was Army-issue, but I wasn’t certain. It was a rich cherry color, and I would have kept it if it hadn’t been so massive—ridiculously so, dominating half the room. That was fine when using the place as an office, but I wanted it to be a bedroom.

  Not only did the room have a foldout couch, but it also had only one wall of windows facing the hallway, so they would be easy to cover. There were blinds in place, but they were missing a few slats, as I discovered when I let them down. I’d have to scavenge blinds from one of the other offices, or perhaps even on a run, but it gave me more privacy than I’d had for a while.

  Moving the desk took half the afternoon, and I finally ended up going in search of a screwdriver so I could disassemble it a piece at a time. I found the right equipment in the stockroom, where Jamar—I was certain it was him due to his need to organize everything—had sorted and stacked everything onto a series of utilitarian shelves. All the tools were together, so I helped myself to a Phillips-head and a rubber mallet, just in case.

  The desk was well-made, and I cursed its craftsmanship as I wrangled with it. Finally, it broke into three pieces, as it was meant to, and I was able to haul each one out of the room, though that was more a system of dragging and cursing as pain flared in my lower back from the exertion.

  Even broken down into three parts, it was still unwieldy and crazy-heavy. If I hadn’t disassembled it myself, I’d be certain he was hiding something in the desk, like a hooker’s body. Apparently, Commander Nielsen, as identified by his multiple plaques and awards, had just been an aficionado of quality rather than after a storage place to hide dead hookers.

  By the time I’d moved the desk into the office next to my new bedroom, my back was killing me. I’d gotten stronger with the weightlifting, though it had only been a few days, but I was certain I was going to be feeling this for the rest of the evening. I must have wrenched too hard on the desk or lifted it wrong.

  Feeling somewhat miserable, I hobbled into the shower and cranked the water as hot as I could stand it. I knew it wouldn’t last long at that temperature, since the backup generator only heated one water heater. It had been designed that way to conserve energy, but it was frustrating when you are halfway through and ran out.

  I’d just turned off the water when I heard steps in the shower room. I grab my towel and covered my front before letting out a small breath when I saw Jamar step inside. I smiled at him. “Did you find a good haul?”

  He shrugged. “Got a few useful things, but most of it’s picked clean.”

  I bit my lower lip, sharing his frustration. Unless we could find the tools necessary to survive here, we’d have to leave the underground base in search of a farm or somewhere more equipped for self-sufficiency when spring came again. I wasn’t looking forward to going back out into the real world. Ensconced here in the base, surrounded by the men who had rescued me, I wished we could all just stay here.

  Drying off, I let out a small cry as I bent over to dry my legs, and my back spasmed. Jamar was by me in an instant, his expression revealing his concern. “What’s wrong? Are you sick, Lyss?”

  I shook my head. “I think I wrenched my back though.”

  His touch was gentle as he took the towel from me and finished drying me off, since I was finding it difficult to bend over at the waist. He was strictly business even as he dried between my legs, but I was still wet and achy for him when he pulled away the towel.

  Unfortunately, my spasming back prevented me from doing anything about it. I could’ve protested, insisting I could walk, but when he swung me into his arms to stride from the shower room after helping me dress, I just snuggled against him and enjoyed the ride. It was safe to allow myself moments of weakness with him.

  He took me to the mess hall, and I saw the raised eyebrows as he carried me in and placed me carefully on the bench attached to the table. I whimpered, and Shane caught my eye. He was frowning, his concern evident, and I managed a wobbly smile. “I just hurt my back. I’ll be fine.”

  “How did you do that?” asked Shane.

  “Apparently the commander at this base had a fetish for heavy desks. Must have pulled my back when I was taking apart the monster in his office and dragging it out.”

  Han frowned, and I was hopeful I saw concern reflected in his gaze, but not entirely certain. “What were you doing with his desk?”

  “I was trying to clear it out of my new bedroom. His office is the only one with a foldout sofa, though the mattress looks uncomfortable. If I’d left his desk in there, I wouldn’t have had room for anything.”

  Han nodded. “I think I know the desk you’re talking about. That thing’s intimidating.” There was a look of admiration in his eyes. “I’m surprised you managed. I don’t think any of us could have lifted it by ourselves.”

  “I didn’t lift it so much as pull it apart with a screwdriver and drag the sections into the next
room. Maybe I hurt my back when I was dragging.” I shrugged. It didn’t matter when it’d happened, but there was a definite and continuous ache in my lower back. Add in the occasional muscle spasm, and I was near tears. I was also unable to eat much, though I hated wasting food, and when Jamar lifted me into his arms at the end of the meal, I didn’t protest.

  He carried me to my new bedroom, carefully laying me down on my stomach. I looked up at him from where my bent head touched the pillow. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  I watched him leave, wondering what he had in mind as I lay on the bed and tried to convince my back to stop hurting. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the mood to listen.

  When Jamar returned, his fingers slipped into the waistband of my sweatpants, and I moaned as he stripped them off me in one smooth motion. I wanted to tell him I didn’t feel up to fucking, but I didn’t. The truth was, my body was stirring to life, and I’d have to be dead not to respond to this man.

  He shoved my shirt up above my shoulder blades, and I moaned when he brushed his hands down my body for just a moment in a tender caress. My moan turned to a gasp of surprise when something dribbled on my back. “What the hell is that?”

  “Cooking oil. We’re low on supplies, at least the kind that’re good for massage.”

  His intentions became clear, and I stopped complaining or thinking about anything at all. I just let his soothing touch wash over me, pleased to find the spasms were fading, at least as long as he rubbed my back. When he stopped, the pain would gradually return. I didn’t mention it though, because I knew he couldn’t rub me all night. He’d probably try just to make me happy though.

  There was a knock at my door, and I turned my face from where it was mostly in the pillow to call, “Come in.”

  I knew it was Shane even before I saw him. I don’t know if I recognized his scent, his tread, or if it was something less easy to explain that allowed me to identify him. Either way, I flashed him a smile. “If you’re here for the housewarming party, that’s going to have to wait a few days.”

  He grinned at me. “And here I brought a gift.”

  I eyed him with interest, looking for something that could be construed as a gift.

  Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he lifted a little white pill for me to see, along with a bottle of water. “This is a muscle relaxer. You’ll sleep like the dead, but you’ll also feel better. I think you should take one.”

  If I’d been out in the real world, hunkered down in my subbasement in hiding, I wouldn’t have taken anything that would impair my awareness. Here in the base, with Jamar and Shane watching over me, I felt perfectly safe and took the pill he extended, awkwardly drinking some water to wash it down before handing back the bottle.

  To my surprise, instead of leaving, he simply sat down on the other side of the bed, his hands moving on the other side of my back as he and Jamar worked in tandem to soothe my pain.

  They were also leaving me a sopping mess, and I couldn’t help pressing my mound against the mattress in search of some kind of relief. I wanted them, both of them, even though I was in no shape to please any of us at the moment.

  Working as one, their hands moved lower as they apparently realized my distress. It was almost like it was still part of the massage when Shane’s hand slipped between my thighs, two of his fingers surging inside my wet sheath as he began to pump them in and out of me while flicking his thumb across my clit in a gentle fashion.

  More oil trickled onto my buttocks, and I didn’t know whether to giggle, protest, or moan as the cool oil seeped into the space between my cheeks. I let out a small cry of surprise when Jamar slipped his fingers in that space, pressing one against my puckered rosette. Acting on instinct, I pushed back against his hand, and his thumb started to glide inside me.

  Shane and Jamar made quite a team as their fingers explored my folds and my tightest place. Before I knew it, there were two fingers in my back passage, and Jamar crossed his fingers before scissoring them inside me. It hurt for a moment, and I whimpered, but when Shane started rubbing my clit more forcefully, I forgot all about the flash of discomfort from Jamar’s fingers in my back channel.

  It wasn’t long before I clamped tightly around both of them, my entire lower body a taut mass of constricted muscles. For just the briefest moment, my body locked down around them, as though trying to keep their hands lodged inside me forever. I liked the idea, but it was impractical. As the pleasure of my orgasm started to fade, my muscles relaxed, and they were able to slip free easily a moment later.

  After that, they went back to rubbing my back, sharing the duty and acting as though they hadn’t just gotten me off. I wanted to reciprocate, but I was in no shape to do so at the moment. The sleepiness side effect was really hitting me, and my pain levels had diminished significantly. I assumed that was a combination of the tender massage and the muscle relaxant. Whatever it was, I surrendered to sleep, content to have them watching over me.

  Chapter Three

  I woke sandwiched between them, abruptly realizing they had spent the night with me, somehow folding their frames on either side of me in the queen-size foldout bed. My hip hurt from the bar going across the middle of the bed, and my back twinged just a bit as I moved, but I was definitely feeling better and had more range of motion.

  My movements must have woken both of them, which shouldn’t surprise me. I was certain with their training, they were used to responding to even the faintest sound. They both jerked awake and seemed instantly alert.

  They were curled on their sides, with Shane on my left and Jamar on my right. I lay flat on my back, apparently having turned over at some point. I’d never been a stomach sleeper, and every time I tried, I woke up flipped over. It allowed me a pretty good vantage point as I stared at the two men who’d taken such good care of me last night. I wanted to take care of them, so as my gaze darted back and forth between the two of them, I let my hands move off my stomach and to my sides, fumbling for their erections.

  I found Shane’s right away, but Jamar’s was a little farther down than I’d expected. They both wore underwear—boxers for Shane and boxer-briefs for Jamar—so I was unable to touch their bare skin at the moment. I just rubbed their bulges through the cotton, enjoying their moans of pleasure. I’ll admit it was strange to have three people in the bed, but it didn’t feel like one of us was extraneous. I wasn’t bothered by both Shane and Jamar there, and they didn’t seem to care that the other was there as well. I was certain of that when Shane pulled on his boxers enough to free his cock, and Jamar did the same a moment later.

  Since I didn’t know where the oil was, I was careful to lubricate their shafts with their own pre-cum before I started to slide my hand up and down them, stroking the hard lengths in my palms. “You two are so beautiful.”

  Shane grinned at me. “Shouldn’t that be our line?”

  I smiled at him, my gaze drawn back to the cocks in my hands. They were an interesting contrast with their different skin tones. Shane was thicker and a bit longer, but Jamar was certainly packing as well. I knew that from experience.

  And speaking of experience, I remembered the way they had fingered me last night, and I realized I wanted that again, but with their cocks instead of their fingers this time.

  Summoning my bravery in an attempt to hide my shyness, I said, “I want to fuck both of you. Right here and right now.”

  Shane and Jamar shared a glance, and it seemed to speak volumes. Jamar was the first to speak to me. “We’re afraid you’d hurt yourself with that back injury.”

  I shook my head. “I’m feeling much better, so as long as you’re slow and careful with me, I think it will be fine.”

  “Just to clarify, you’re talking about taking both of us at once, right?” asked Shane.

  My stomach fluttered with nervous excitement as I nodded. “That’s what I’d like, yes.”

  The poor sofa bed creaked like crazy as they set about removing their underwea
r before turning their attention to stripping me. I tried to help, but they both batted my hands away, and it quickly became obvious they intended to do all the work. I shivered at the idea being at their mercy, but not with a hint of fear. I couldn’t wait, though I wasn’t too certain I’d be able to keep my hands to myself and completely surrender to whatever they wanted. I wanted to be an active participant. I wanted to make love with them, not have them make love to me.

  For a moment, the haze of passion started to fade as I realized I’d used the word lovemaking. This was fucking. We were friends, and we cared about each other, but we weren’t going to fall in love and have our guaranteed happily ever after. I needed to remember that, because the more I cared about them, the worse it would hurt when I lost one or both. With our new reality, lifespans would be shorter, and I could lose them, or they could lose me, in a heartbeat.

  I struggled to push aside the thoughts whirling through my mind, not wanting to think about sadness and loss when I had two hot men determined to please me.

  My sweats had never made it back on my body last night after the back massage and the fingering, so they only had to strip off my shirt to leave me as naked as they were.

  I stretched as far as my back would allow, capturing the first mouth nearest mine. Shane and I shared a hungry kiss before he broke away, allowing Jamar his turn. They were sharing me easily, as though they had done it before, which prompted me to ask, “Have you been in a threesome before?”

  “No,” said Shane.

  “Yeah, a couple,” said Jamar. “I was pretty popular with the ladies back in the day.”

  I suppressed a feeling of jealousy that tried to sweep over me, reminding myself firmly that it was the past. The sad truth was the people he’d been in a threesome with before were probably dead now. I had no reason to feel jealous. Instead, I cupped his cock and stroked it lightly. “You’re still popular with this lady.”