Axes & O’s

12. Morgan

Chapter 12

Morgan

“The sauna?” Fox asks once our door is closed.

I start to remove my suspenders, but before I have the chance to push the second one off my shoulder, Fox bats my hand away so he can take over. I smirk as he drops the strap then moves his hands down to the button of my pants.

“Do you have a better idea?” I ask.

“Not really.” Fox pulls my sweater and sports bra up and over my head in one swift tug, purposefully covering my eye roll.

When my boobs are exposed to the air, my nipples harden. Fox doesn’t waste a moment, his lips closing around one and sucking deeply.

I bite down a cry and grab the sides of his head, nails digging into his hair. If we ever decide to have children, I think he’d be on my breasts more than the baby. The man is obsessed and always has been—especially since I got them pierced years ago.

He tugs on one of the barbells, and a surge of arousal pools between my legs. When he goes to suck on the other one, I grab him by the beard and tug. His eyes narrow at me, and I tut. “We don’t have time for you to play. Nathan is waiting.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

I chuckle, pulling away from my crazy husband to head to the closet and pull out two oversized white towels, my pants and long underwear still on my lower half.

When I exit, Fox has taken off his sweats and shirt, his body naked and cock half hard. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and I allow myself to watch him for a moment, cool daylight highlighting his strong body. He’s…intoxicating. It doesn’t matter that we practically grew up together or that we’ve been married since we were eighteen, Fox Malone will always do it for me. He’s perfect for me in every way possible, even when he doesn’t think so.

“Wrap this around your waist.”

Fox chucks his dirty clothes into the hamper then turns toward me. “Why?”

I cock my head to the side and shove the towel into his chest so he’s forced to take it. “You know why. It’s not just us now. We can’t walk in there naked.”

“He saw us naked last night.”

I turn away from him, setting my towel on the bed so I can remove the rest of my clothes. “Yeah, and that turned out so well.”

Fox sits on the bed, and before I can protest, he’s pulling me into his lap. His strong thighs support my weight, tattooed arms securing me. Muscle memory has me wrapping my arms around his neck as my fingers play with the hair at the nape of it.

“He’s interested.”

Fox wears the same look in his eyes that I saw at the kitchen table, the one that nearly threw me for a loop. At first, I thought I imagined it, but I took note of the way he looked at Nathan, confirming his thought process and where things could potentially lead with him.

I blow out a breath. “Just because he watched us a bit last night and is getting more comfortable around us doesn’t mean he’s interested in being with both of us.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m not even going to answer that.” Fox knows I trust him implicitly. There’s no one on this planet I could ever trust more. He’s held my life in the palm of his hands since the moment we locked eyes at fourteen, the troubled boy who stole my heart and never gave it back. Not that I’d want him to .

“I’ll let you take the lead on this, Morgan, but he’s interested. I don’t think he knows it yet—or if he does, he wants to deny it. The question is: Do you want to deny it?”

I try to pull away from Fox, but his arms lock me in. Then he grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, connecting our gazes and holding me captive with his intense blue eyes.

“You feel it; I know you do. I’ve watched the both of you, and there’s something there. I know what we went through with Gabriel was difficult, but I thought you were open to trying again if the right person came along.”

At the mention of our ex’s name, my stomach tightens, and my fingers that were playing with Fox’s hair grip the nape of his neck. It’s been almost a year since Gabe decided being with us wasn’t for him, and while I no longer have feelings for him, the memory of how it ended still stings. He left so abruptly, and since then, Fox knows I’ve questioned if bringing a third person in is still right for us. Though he also knows I could never fully exclude the option.

“You really think the man we rescued from the snowbank could be ours?”

Fox’s face softens, a rare thing for him. “I don’t know, but I think we should see where things go.”

My mouth hangs slightly open. “Who are you, and what have you done with my grumpy husband?”

I expect him to harden his features and roll back his shoulders, but instead, he strokes my cheek and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be happy, Morgan.”

My heart stops beating, and my breath catches in my chest. “You don’t think I’m happy?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

“Of course I’m happy. I love our life together—it’s more than enough for me. You’re enough for me.”

He shakes his head. “I know that. That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Having a third in our relationship isn’t a requirement. ”

“I know that, too.”

“Are you happy, baby?”

I know Fox’s argument for this; I’ve heard it countless times before. He’s always struggled to really understand and know what true happiness is. He grew up in the foster care system, lived in a home with less-than-caring adults who wanted a free government handout instead of children. Then he joined the Army at eighteen and probably would’ve stayed had he not been medically discharged for a knee injury that still aches from time to time, though he’s learned how to manage it and make the muscle stronger over the years.

Fox leans in, pressing his lips to mine. I open for him, and his tongue licks into my mouth so I can taste the sweetness of the cinnamon rolls he made for me. I press our naked torsos together, my fingers winding into his hair until I’m pulling it free from the bun he’d put it in. My nails drag over his scalp, and he groans into me, cock stiff against the plush skin of my backside.

Fox has always claimed he’s not good with words, that he likes to show instead of tell. And while that may be true in some ways, in others, he’s actually very good with words—he just needs to feel comfortable enough to express them. I know he can’t use them right now, so I let him tell me he’s happy through his mouth, through the way his cock throbs under me, how his hands grip my face and his tongue strokes deeper into my mouth with every movement of his jaw.

When he eventually pulls back after a seemingly endless amount of time, he rests his forehead against mine. “If I’m with you,” he says in a steady cadence, “I’m happy.”

I nod between his cupped hands on my cheeks. “I know.” And I do know that. But Fox and I, we’ve always been different. It’s become more clear to us the longer we’re together—not only in the way we play sexually, but in the way we’ve chosen to live our lives .

Having a third in our partnership has always felt right. Over the years, it’s looked different, and when Gabriel was with us, I thought that was it—we’d live out our lives as the quirky polyamorous loggers of Starlight Haven. But then Gabe up and left, and I couldn’t even blame him for it.

Being in a relationship with one person is hard, and being in a relationship with two people is even harder. Moments of jealousy will always pop up, and everyone has to be willing to talk through it, to speak freely with their partners and be okay with the things they’re feeling. It’s also not easy to come into a relationship with Fox and I given our long shared history.

That’s why I’m hesitant to even entertain the thought that Nathan could be interested, let alone be the one for us, even though I felt a pull toward his car. Even though I sensed something the moment I found him in that snowbank. Even though I feel magnetically drawn to him now, something I think I’ve only felt with the man whose lap I’m sitting on: the love of my life.

My thoughts strike me hard, as if a lightning bolt has hit me in the chest. I pull back from Fox so I can look into his eyes. I see a knowing in his soulful blue irises, as if he heard my thoughts telepathically. Without any more words, I understand why my husband is prodding us in Nathan’s direction. He felt that pull, too.

“He’s skittish,” I say.

“We’ve played with enough newbies to go easy.”

“ You , go easy?”

He chuckles. “That’s why you take the lead, little lamb.”

I smirk. “Giving me the proverbial reins, baby?”

He nips at my lips. “More like a leash.”

I chuckle, my thighs clenching at his promise. My man always has to be in control, even when he says he’s not. It’s very rare for him to be fully free, but I know, love, and accept that about him and always have. It’s part of the reason we’ve always gravitated toward a third in our partnership, someone to balance us out, to give me an outlet when I need control. My husband is also insatiable.

“Let’s just be careful. He seems like a sweet guy; I don’t want to push any boundaries.”

“That’s why we set them up early.” Fox brings a thumb down to stroke the underside of my breast. “He may come off soft, but he’s not. Give him a chance to show himself to you.”

“You’ve really thought about this.”

“I’m going with my instincts,” he says plainly. “I’ve also had a lot of time to think.”

Concern furrows my brow. “You should’ve been sleeping instead of thinking.”

He flicks my nipple, which I take as my cue to jump off his lap.

He smacks my ass as I turn away, and I shoot him a chiding look. “Let’s go before Nathan changes his mind.”

Fox half smiles slyly as he stands, wrapping the towel around his waist. “Lead the way, lamb.”