Axes & O’s

13. Nathan

Chapter 13

Nathan

Why did I agree to this again? is my first thought as I walk out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped snugly around my narrow waist. My second thought is: Do they have tequila? Because I could use a drink, maybe ten. This was a dumb idea. I should go find a book to read—

“You have a tattoo.”

I jump, my eyes darting to the end of the hallway where Morgan has emerged. I try to ignore that she’s wrapped in a towel, her plump body hugged by the fluffy white material and the looming body of her husband behind her.

I look down at my bicep where a black-and-gray wave encircles the muscle. They would’ve seen it already since they stripped me while I was unconscious to save my life, but I appreciate she’s acting as if she hasn’t. I’d rather start from scratch and pretend they didn’t see me fully naked already.

“Just the one,” I say.

She steps up so we’re standing face-to-face, a smile on her lips. “Fox and I have a fascination with body art, if you can’t tell.”

My focus is drawn to an unsmiling Fox, the overhead light of the hallway illuminating his blond hair and broad tattooed features. It’s hard to miss all his ink from the neck down. While sitting in the kitchen, I couldn’t help but wonder if the detailed geometric shapes wrapping around his throat hurt like hell when he got them.

“I like it. Did you design it?” Morgan asks .

I pull my attention back to her and shake my head. “My dad did.”

Her eyes light up. “It’s amazing. The detail is incredible—it’s so realistic.”

“Thank you” is all I say. I don’t want to talk about my dad. If I get into it, I’ll have to bring up his passing, and I’d rather not go there, especially when I’m in a cabin almost naked with two people who are still strangers.

As if she read my mind, Morgan points down the hallway. “Walk down, then turn left. The door to the left of the fireplace will take you to the mudroom, then walk through the garage. It’s going to be cold in there, but I got the sauna going earlier, so it should be nice and hot for us.”

Her words spark my curiosity, and now I’m wondering if she was planning to invite me in here all along or if this is something they normally do on a Saturday afternoon and I’m just invading their plans. I try not to think about it as I follow her direction, taking in their home a bit more as I walk with unhurried steps.

I obviously haven’t seen the outside, but from what I’ve seen of the interior, it’s a decently sized log cabin style house. It’s nice and appears to be on the newer side, which might explain their lack of decor. Or maybe they’re just people who don’t have time to decorate or don’t care to. I think it would be good, however, if they at least had some Christmas decorations. If I’m stuck here for who knows how long, it would be nice to get in the holiday spirit a bit.

Once I’ve made my way into the mudroom, I notice the clothing I was in when they found me is hanging next to a washer and dryer.

“I didn’t know if they were dryer safe,” Morgan comments. I turn my head over my shoulder as I put my hand on the doorknob to the garage.

“Oh,” I say, an odd feeling setting in my stomach upon hearing that she cared enough not to shrink my clothes. “They can be put in the dryer. ”

She smiles, and I turn my head back to push open the door.

“Watch your step,” Fox barks.

His voice pokes at my back and makes me stand straighter. And while the order was clipped, I decide I need to try to be nicer and warmer to the people who found me, people who obviously care about my well-being. I speak a quiet thanks for his warning as I step down into the garage. It’s freezing like Morgan said it would be, but the space is large and a lot nicer than most garages I’ve seen.

Gym equipment sits in one corner with a black truck to its side. Next to the gym equipment is a wooden box I’m assuming is the sauna. It’s funny—it never occurred to me that a regular person would have one in their home like this. I’ve only ever thought of them to be something found in a gym or a spa…or a wealthy person’s home.

My feet freeze against the floor of the garage, and I pick up my pace, not caring if the two people who feel comfortable in the cold think it’s funny. I’m not used to winter weather like this, and after last night, they know that. So why hide my thin skin?

Thankfully, they don’t say anything as I walk briskly to the sauna, opening the door to the wooden box.

The hot cedar-scented air bathes my chilled skin, and I exhale a relieved breath. Morgan steps in behind me, and only when I feel the heat of her body and look at the size of the sauna do I realize how close the quarters are going to be. I mean, I kinda figured, but I guess I didn’t really picture how close.

“Sit wherever you want,” Morgan chimes, her breath skittering across the back of my neck.

My body shivers, and I try to hide it, taking another step in. I head to the back corner, seating myself on the top far bench. I pick it because it’s the shorter side of the L-shaped seating and my hosts can sit on the top of the longer side as well as the bench below it.

Once I’m seated, I’m slightly relieved the space is roomier than I first thought and we won’t have to huddle together awkwardly. When Morgan sits, she seats herself exactly where I hoped she would, on the top bench to my right. Once Fox is inside, I notice he’s so tall his head nearly touches the ceiling.

He swiftly closes the door, his broad back facing me now. After the door is sealed, he doesn’t immediately turn around, allowing me to see a large black-and-gray forest scene covering the span of his corded shoulders and strong back.

The art is interesting. It’s mostly forests that look like the ones surrounding us, but then I see a river flowing through it, leading downward until the water disappears below the line of his white towel—his very low-slung white towel.

I lean forward in my seat, eyes drawing back up the art so I can observe along the waterline. As I drag my gaze over the sure black lines, I’m met with a depiction of a large and almost muscular fox, though its fine detail manages to make it look light on its feet, a swift and cunning predator. I squint to study more of the details, but the light of the sauna is too dim.

A hissing noise followed by steam filling the air pulls me from my perusal, and if my skin wasn’t already turning hot from the sauna, it would be now.

Fox places more water on the hot stones above the heater, and another plume of cloudy steam fills the wooden space. I’ll admit, the foggy atmosphere only makes the man seem more like a god among mere mortals.

“It’s a nice piece, isn’t it?” Morgan asks.

Embarrassment licks at my neck from being caught staring, and I turn my gaze to her amused one. It’s pointless to try to hide that I was looking, so I nod. “It’s very detailed.”

“It’s my work, though Fox drew some of it.”

Fox takes a seat on the lower bench so his head is near Morgan’s knee, and I can look at them easily. He spreads his legs wide as he sits, the towel expanding until one side of it drops between his thighs.

I snap my head up from his crotch and try to quell whatever is coming over me. I’ve never been interested in men—or at least, I don’t think I have. I’m not sure what’s happening to me now or why I’m so intrigued by him. Or Morgan, for that matter. Not only are they married to each other, but they’re also just people with interesting jobs.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I ask the next question. “You’re tattoo artists? I thought you were loggers.”

“We’re many things,” Morgan says. “But when Fox was deployed, I had to do something to fill my time besides school. I’ve always loved art, and I fell in love with tattoos when I was fifteen. I forged my mom’s signature to get this puppy.”

She holds out her wrist for me to see. Two faded red hearts are overlapping each other, and in the middle are the letters F and M.

“Fox is my high school sweetheart,” Morgan adds. “When my mom saw it, she grounded me for a month. Said I’d regret it when Fox left me.” She looks down at Fox, and in an oddly tender move for a man who looks like him, he rests his head against her tattooed outer thigh.

“Guess you showed her.”

Morgan smiles wistfully. “We did. We’ve been together for twenty-one years.”

Fox squeezes her calf, and I have to admire them, because that’s a long time.

“Anyway,” she goes on, “I took drawing classes in high school and a few in college. Eventually, I ordered a tattoo machine online and started practicing on fruit and pig ears.”

I screw up my nose, unable to miss the way the corner of Fox’s mouth twitches at my reaction.

“After that, I did some apprentice work. Eventually, I worked at a shop while I was in school.”

“Then you ended up a logger.”

She chuckles. “I still tattoo Fox, myself, and people in town sometimes. But I enjoy the forestry work we do—it keeps us active.” Morgan’s eyes light up as if she’s told an inside joke before she scratches her husband’s scalp. The grunt of pleasure from his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by my ears.

I shift on the bench, annoyed at the way the sound made my cock wake up and how the desire to have Morgan’s nails running through my hair is now at the forefront of my mind. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about a married couple—a couple who’s been together since they were fourteen. Seeing them being intimate doesn’t give me the right to feel anything for them.

“Tell us what you do.”

My muscles tense at Fox’s low voice piercing through the air. I want to point out that again, he didn’t ask a question. Well, he did in a way, but it was more of a demand. Tell us what you do .

“You don’t have to,” Morgan tacks on, shooting Fox an exasperated look.

I wipe at sweat that’s accumulated above my lip and decide to answer. It’s not like I have anything to lose. “I work— worked —in marketing.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “‘Worked’?”

“I quit a few hours before you found me.”

“Oh shit.”

Her response makes me laugh. “It was time. My manager was awful.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

I shrug. “It is what it is.”

“What will you do now,” Fox says, again a statement, not a question.

“Fox,” Morgan chides.

“It’s fine,” I assure her. I turn my attention to Fox. His features are neutral, and with Morgan no longer touching him, his focus is completely on me. I find I’m getting used to his penetrating gaze. “I don’t know. Get another job, hopefully.”

“In marketing?” Morgan asks.

“It’s what I’m good at.”

“Do you enjoy it?” she follows up .

My mouth opens to answer yes, but then I stop. Do I enjoy it? I guess I never really stopped to ask myself that. I’m good at it, yes. But do I like it? Silence fills the sauna, and now all I can hear is the sound of breathing and my heart pounding in my ears.

“I—” I pause again. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Morgan wipes a bit of sweat from her forehead. “Is there something you enjoy doing?” I hear an excited lilt in her tone as she asks.

“Surfing,” I say without having to think about it.

She points to the wave cuff on my left bicep. “Explains the tattoo.”

I nod. “There’s not a career for me in that. I’m not good enough to do it professionally, nor would it make sense for me to start at twenty-eight.”

“You could teach lessons?”

I shrug, moving my gaze to the hot rocks in the corner. Teaching surf lessons sounds fun for a weekend gig, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay my bills.

More silence fills the space, and then I find myself speaking. “I’ll figure it out. All I know is that I want to do something more than I was doing, because what I have been doing…it wasn’t working for me.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about more than just your job.”

I track my gaze to the couple staring at me. Morgan’s eyes are soft and understanding, while Fox…he looks interested. Which surprises me, since he’s not given me much more than a scowl or a blank stare.

“When I was in the snow last night…when I was—”

“—slowly freezing to death,” Fox finishes for me.

Morgan directs a glare at him, but I nod, appreciating his bluntness in the moment. It makes me remember the gravity of the situation I was in .

“I kept thinking that something was missing from my life, but I don’t know what. I have… had a good job. Easy life. I have friends, family. Just something is—” I trail off, wiping more sweat from my forehead. I wonder for a moment if the sauna is detoxing me in more ways than one. Normally, I wouldn’t be so forthcoming.

I shift from side to side and consider getting up. Morgan can see it because her hand shoots out, fingers gripping my forearm.

For a moment, there’s tense silence. Besides my brush of fingers with Fox earlier this morning, I haven’t been touched by my saviors, at least while lucid. Morgan’s touch is hot, her hand slick from the heated air. My eyes flash to hers, and I feel as if she’s trying to say something to me. My skin grows hotter, though this time, it’s not from the sauna.

“Something’s missing?” Her voice fills the space, finishing my thought for me.

“Yes.”

Morgan’s grip on my arm softens, but she doesn’t remove it. Instead, she moves closer to me on the bench but doesn’t let the rest of her body touch mine. With the heat of her next to me, I find myself wishing she would press her plush thigh into my own.

“We understand what you mean.”

My brow furrows in confusion. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

That makes her smile. “You never know what’s going on beneath the surface of someone’s life.”

I exhale a short breath. “I suppose that’s true.”

Morgan’s hand begins to trail up my forearm, the suggestiveness of it causing my heart to thump faster. I shift my eyes to Fox in near panic. His wife is touching me—she’s close enough that if she wanted, she could lean in and kiss me.

What’s more, we’re all naked under these towels, and Morgan’s is starting to slip down enough that it wouldn’t take much for her breasts to fall free .

But just like when my eyes met Fox’s in the kitchen earlier after the moment I had with Morgan, I don’t find a jealous or angry man. I find an observing one, one who almost looks curious. Which both confuses and arouses me. Because he shouldn’t look like that. And Morgan shouldn’t be this close to me, touching me.

Yet I’m not stopping her.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her husky voice quiet.

“I—” Is it? My gaze bounces between the two of them, and fluttering builds low in my belly. Morgan’s nail traces a vein in my forearm, and I shudder.

“Fox and I understand you more than you think, Nathan.”

My name on her lips sends a jolt of desire through my body, and my eyes lock with hers. Her hazel ones are dark, and her breathing has picked up, causing her towel to creep lower now, ample cleavage on display for me. I can also see the tattooed vines from her neck trail down between her breasts, red roses budding among the leaves and thorns. The overhead light makes the sweat on her body appear as fresh dew drops that glitter, and I have the overwhelming desire to lean down and find out what the liquid tastes like against her silken skin.

I lick my lips, the salt of my own sweat bursting on my tongue. I shift, my cock half hard beneath my towel. I want to be angry that I’m turned on, so I clench my fists almost in confusion, not knowing what to do or what to think.

Morgan must feel the muscles in my forearm tighten because she begins to pull back, lifting her hand from my arm.

The moment her touch leaves me, the flutter in my stomach disappears, and the warm room seems to grow cold. My arm reaches out of its own accord, snatching her hand. Fox doesn’t react to the movement—he only continues to watch while Morgan’s eyes widen in surprise.

“What is it you both want from me?” My bold question once again shocks my system. The Nathan of yesterday would not have asked it. He would’ve left the sauna feeling ashamed of being turned on. He would’ve retreated to his room to wait out the storm and then eventually gone home and tried to forget the whole thing. But I’m not the Nathan of yesterday—and something tells me I never will be again.

“If you haven’t noticed, my husband and I are a bit different.”

I huff a laugh. “You don’t say.”

Morgan smirks as she uses the hand she’s holding as leverage to get closer to me. The air thickens, and I feel unbearably hot now that she’s so close, close enough that I can see the fascinating colors in her kaleidoscope eyes.

“Can I kiss you, Nathan?”

My gaze moves to her puffy lips, and blood thrums in my ears. “I don’t understand.”

Morgan’s palm glides up my skin, and my hand drops to my thigh, allowing her to trace the veins in my arm until she reaches my tattoo. She gives the etched lines of each wave a swipe, and I’m no longer half-hard, I’m tenting my towel like a hormone-crazed teenager. I’d hide it if I thought they hadn’t already seen it—it’s hard to miss in such a small space.

“Do you need to understand?” she asks.

I blink at her words, and her tracing stills. “You’re married.” My words come out quiet, as if Fox won’t be able to hear them.

“We want you.”

We.

My eyes catch the gaze of the man I haven’t quite been able to figure out. He’s leaning against the back of the top bench, legs still spread wide and looking like the tattooed Norse god he must have been in another life. His gaze is intense, again like a hunter watching his prey.

He wants me?

Goosebumps appear on my flesh despite the heat, and I bring my eyes back to Morgan’s. “I don’t—I’m not—” But the words I’m trying to say stick to the roof of my mouth. I want to say I’m not bi, I’m not polyamorous, but the words won’t come out. Because to be honest, I don’t know what or who I am anymore .

“Fox won’t touch you unless you ask him to.”

My breaths come heavier now, and Morgan’s easy smile and gentle touch on my arm relaxes me slightly. “I—” My eyes bounce between the couple. “This is new to me. I’ve never…” Had a threesome? Been trapped in a cabin with loggers who apparently are swingers or something? Maybe I did hit my head harder than I thought.

Her hand moves down to grip mine. “Let us take the lead, Nathan. Maybe you’ll find what’s been missing.”

Morgan’s declaration sucks me out of my spiral. Her gentle gaze and soft touch reminds me that I’m alive and here right now in this moment. This may be an interesting situation I’ve found myself in, but I’m here now. This is real, and I’m being propositioned by a married couple I saw having very intense and dirty sex last night. Sex that made me feel things I haven’t felt in…well, ever.

“You really want this?” I ask.

“Only if you do,” she says with conviction. “We realize this isn’t something a lot of people do. And if you want us to walk out of this sauna and never speak of it again, we will. You’re in charge here, Nathan. I promise you that.”

If I had alcohol in my system, I think I’d understand my response more. But I’m sober, I’m thinking clearly, and my body wants this. Maybe something like this is what I’ve been looking for. Because as I sit here now, with yesterday’s thoughts swirling in my head, I realize I spend so much time making my family proud, trying to be the good boy I was raised to be, that I never allow myself to just be. Experience.

I always do things with a purpose—and that ends now. “Kiss me, Morgan.”