Axes & O’s

33. Morgan

Chapter 33

Morgan

“Which color?” I ask, holding up both green and white nail polish bottles to Nathan. He’s sitting on the other end of the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table in the freshly washed clothes he wore yesterday, reading a romance novel I gave him.

He looks up from the book and studies them. “Green.”

“Perfect. That’s the one I wanted.”

He chuckles. “Why’d you ask me, then?”

“Because I wanted your opinion.” I smirk.

Nathan squeezes one of the feet I have planted on his lap then turns his attention back to the book. He made fun of me when I said he’d like a dirty book about two male wolf shifters and their mate, but it’s not as if we have much else to do up here while we’re stuck, especially while my mouth and pussy are recovering from my middle-of-the-night funishment. Not that I couldn’t go again, or that I don’t want to, but it’s been nice to just sit and relax.

Fox and I have been so busy with work that we’ve hardly had time to do whatever we want for days at a time—and my husband is not good at relaxing, anyway. So after we woke up, showered, and ate a Christmas Eve brunch of pancakes and bacon, Fox went to the office. He’s been there since, claiming he needed to radio the city and see if they had a timeline for the power to be back on and the roads to be cleared. But that shouldn’t have taken this long, which leads me to think he’s up to something. I just don’t know what.

Nathan asked if we should check on him a few times, which made my heart flutter in my chest, but I assured him that this is how Fox is. It’s better to let him do what he needs to do, and he’ll join us when he wants. Plus, it’s been nice to spend time with Nathan, even if we’ve just been sitting together by the fire and drinking hot chocolate as he laughs and shares his thoughts on the book he’s reading.

I unscrew the cap of the nail polish and get to work painting my nails. As I finish the nails on my left hand, Nathan lays the open book over my ankles. “What’s primal?” he asks.

I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. “Just keep reading; you’ll find out.”

His eyes meet mine. “I’m still trying to figure out the whole breeding kink thing. Isn’t that just human nature?”

I snort. God, he’s so cute. “It’s not exactly the same, but I can see how that would be confusing. The breeding kink itself is more about being aroused by the idea of having sex without a condom that could result in a pregnancy. It’s more nuanced and layered than you would think.”

Nathan stares at me, and his mouth parts. After a few tries, he squeezes my foot again, his eyes serious. “I didn’t use a condom.”

“We didn’t.” My thighs squeeze together reflexively as if I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. “But I’m on birth control, so no need to worry about little mini versions of us running around.”

He nods, but I can see his mind is racing in a million different directions. I pull my legs off his lap and sit up on the couch, holding out the nail polish to him. He eyes it, confused.

“Paint my right hand for me?”

“You want me to paint your nails?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never painted nails before. ”

“I guess I’ll be your first,” I say playfully.

Nathan huffs a laugh, his features lightening a bit as he takes the polish from me. “If this is ugly, you can’t complain.”

“I trust you.”

His gaze turns warm at my words, laced with deeper meaning.

After some adjusting, my hand is resting on my crossed knee. Nathan sits in a mirrored position so he can focus on his task. He takes my pointer finger in his, and like a man painting the Sistine Chapel, he bends over and goes to work. His lips are pursed and brow furrowed as he paints a delicate line down the middle of my nail.

He exhales a cute little breath. After he’s determined he hasn’t screwed up, he does another line. When he’s finished, the nail is done perfectly. He didn’t even get any on my skin.

“A natural,” I praise.

He smirks. “I like to be good at things.”

“You don’t say.”

Nathan looks up at me and takes a hold of my middle finger. “I didn’t hear you complaining about how good at things I am last night.”

I bark a laugh. “Okay, Mister Confidence, keep painting.”

With the look of a proud man who fucked my brains out early this morning, Nathan goes back to painting. After the nail is finished, he asks, “Do you want kids?” He doesn’t look up at me as he says it, his concentration on my nails.

“That’s a loaded question.”

He dips his chin as if he understands, and I’m sure he does. When people are in their prime years and single or married with no kids, society tends to push its ideals on them.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Fox and I have spoken about it. We’re both thirty-five now, but we discussed it a few years back. Maybe one day, if our business slows down and it feels right for us, but there’s another factor… ”

Nathan lifts his head up, his gaze gleaming with an intense curiosity, but he doesn’t ask a question. I study his face, hoping what I’m about to say doesn’t go too far for him, though after everything we’ve done together, I think we need to talk about it.

“If we have another partner, they have to want it, too—and be okay with raising them with three parents.” The words linger in the air like a soft echo of the final note of a song.

Nathan sits straighter and screws the cap on the polish. It’s then that I see he’s finished all five fingers. They’re all perfect, even better than my practiced hand.

“Do you want kids?” I ask quietly.

Nathan lifts my hand, his eyes still locked on mine as he gently blows on the polish. I should tell him it’s a quick-dry polish, but I’m too enraptured by his action.

His warm breath skitters over my knuckles, and goosebumps erupt down my arms. When he’s finished, he continues to hold it, resting our joined hands on his knee. “I don’t know. I thought I did, but…I’ve begun to wonder if it’s just another thing I thought I should have because I was told it was part of the plan.”

“I can relate to that.”

Nathan’s eyebrows raise, but before I answer, I take the polish from him.

“Give me your hand.”

He studies me suspiciously, but all I do is smile and make grabby hands at him. He chuckles, finally relenting and placing his warm hand in mine. After I finish painting one of his nails, I move on to the next.

“Fox and I grew up in a small town a few hours from here. But unlike him, I had a very typical family and upbringing. Believe it or not, I was a sweet and innocent girl-next-door type.”

I glance up at Nathan to see he’s grinning. “You know, I can see it. ”

I huff a laugh. “Despite that, I always had a rebellious streak in me. I pierced my ears with a sewing needle the first time my parents left me alone in the house.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, either. I haven’t known you for very long, but you’re adventurous.”

“That’s one way to put it.” I snicker. “Anyway, my mom wanted me to get married to a sweet boy, have kids, and be a stay-at-home mom like she was. And don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with that. I have so much respect for what she did for me and for dealing with my teenage years.”

I study Nathan’s finished right hand and hold it up to blow on it. He watches me intently, the air charging with a different kind of energy now. “What happened?”

“I happened.”

We both look up to see Fox coming down the hallway, a couple wrapped packages in his hands. Nathan and I both smile at him, and a zap of electricity hits me straight in the gut at the sight of him. He’s in dark sweats and a white T-shirt that makes the black and gray tattoos on his body more vibrant, and his hair is up in the bun I love so much. Even though I’ve been with him before I even understood what love was, the feelings I have for him never dull; they only get stronger. Because no matter who or what comes into our lives, he’s always there. My unwavering strength and support.

Fox walks over to the fireplace, and Nathan and I watch him put the small packages on the mantel. I think they’re presents, which reminds me we don’t have our tree yet, and the decorations are still sitting in the boxes—something I hope to remedy tonight, if Nathan is willing.

Fox turns around and looks down at us, his lip twitching when he sees what we’re doing. “It suits you,” he says to Nathan.

Nathan looks down at his green-painted nails and then back to Fox, his cheeks flushing and the tips of his ears turning pink as if the popular boy in school just told him he’s cute. “Thanks,” he says quietly as Fox goes to tend to the fire .

Nathan and I both watch as he does it, as the muscles of his back flex deliciously. It’s a small moment, one someone might think insignificant, but it’s not to me. This is a moment I didn’t know would happen after the sauna yesterday, but now I can’t help thinking how right this feels. Nathan, despite his newness to everything, fits with us. He’s a soothing balm and light that lends itself to the intensity Fox and I share.

I squeeze Nathan’s hand, and he turns to me, the flush deeper on his cheeks.

“Other hand,” I say.

Nathan gives it willingly as Fox moves to sit on the recliner. “You should sit with us.”

Fox stops mid-squat, his gaze on Nathan before his eyes dart to mine. A gentle smile ghosts over my lips at this development, proving once more that what Fox felt about him before we even knew him and everything I’ve come to feel for Nathan in such a short time is right.

Fox stands upright, not saying a word as he takes the few steps toward the couch. Before I can adjust so Fox can sit behind me, Nathan does it instead. I should say I’m surprised, but I should’ve known this is what Nathan was after. His soul almost seems too sweet for Fox and me. He cares about my husband already, and it’s clear he wants him to feel included, despite the newness of everything for him.

Fox tips his chin in thanks then wedges himself on the couch behind Nathan, spreading his legs wide and throwing an arm over the back of the couch and the other down the arm. Once he’s settled, Nathan leans back so he is resting against Fox’s thigh then looks up at me casually, as if he didn’t just do something that meant so much—not just for us but for him as well.

“So what happened then?”

I swallow the sappy emotion in my throat, glancing quickly at my husband, who looks almost as shocked as I feel. “Fox came to our high school at the end of sophomore year, and he rocked my world,” I say, a playful lilt to my tone as I watch Fox with a silly grin.

Nathan looks over his shoulder. “Were you a bad boy?”

Fox’s eyes darken. “My wife can tell you that.”

I laugh. “He wasn’t, actually.” Fox snorts, and I keep myself from rolling my eyes. “Okay, he was a little bit.” Fox snorts again, and I shake my head, taking the hand I just finished and blowing on the polish even though I don’t have to.

“Something tells me it was more than a little,” Nathan says.

I set his hand down and then put the closed nail polish on the coffee table. “He wasn’t so much a bad boy as misunderstood,” I say, focusing on Fox again. He nods, giving me permission to continue the story. “He was in the foster care system and was acting out. When we met, I was a fourteen-year-old girl trying to understand myself and all the hormones coursing through my body. Then in comes this boy, and everyone told me to stay away from him. But that only made me want to get closer to him.”

“She’s leaving out the part where she kneed a kid in the balls because he made fun of me for having no parents.”

I expect Nathan to be surprised at that, but instead, he smirks happily. “Good.”

I chuckle. “He deserved it. Long story short, we started dating, fell in love, and my parents were scandalized. As soon as Fox and I turned eighteen, we got married, and then he was off to the Army and deployed six months later. Needless to say, we understand what it’s like to go against the expected—or just not be what people expect in the first place.”

Nathan reaches out and squeezes my hand. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“We have, but we turned out okay. More than okay. We’ve worked hard to have this life, and we’d rather be free to be ourselves then fit in with what people think is normal. If people don’t like us, that’s a them problem. ”

Nathan studies me before he slides back on the couch so he can see both me and Fox. “I admire you both. I’ve never had that courage.”

“I beg to differ.” Nathan eyes me, so I continue. “You said you quit your job. You made a change. And do I have to remind you that you’ve been open with us, that you went outside your comfort zone even when you didn’t have to? You have balls, Nathan. Big ones.”

That makes him laugh, which was my goal. “Thank you, Morgan.”

My chest lightens, and I’m glad to see Nathan smile. This conversation has gotten too heavy—it’s Christmas Eve, for goodness’ sake.

I stand and hold out my hand to Nathan and then to Fox, who stare at my open palms in question. “Come on, boys. Let’s make this cabin look like Christmas threw up all over it.”