Claimed by 3 Mountain Men (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

21. Mac

21

MAC

T he morning light filters through the curtains of the master bedroom, casting a soft glow on the walls as I sit hunched over my laptop, the screen flickers with the images that have been playing on a loop in my mind since I first hit play.

I’m trying desperately to focus on anything but what happened last night with the boys.

The trap we left stares back at me on the screen. No lynxes, but I see movement.

My heart races as I watch the footage again, my fingers trembling as I pause, rewind, and play it over and over, just to make sure I’m not imagining it.

But there’s no mistaking what I’m seeing.

The camera caught it all—the men moving through the trees like shadows, their faces hidden under hoods, their movements quick, and practiced. They’re careful, methodical, but not careful enough. The lens catches every detail; the way they set the traps, the way they move with the precision of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

The footage is grainy in places, the camera struggling to keep up in the dim light, but it’s all there, clear as day. Proof. Proof that someone is out here, hunting not just for sport, but for something far more sinister and dangerous. This isn’t just random poaching. It’s organized, and calculated—a full-blown operation right under the Truitt’s noses.

And now I have the evidence to prove it.

I sit back, letting out a shaky breath as I rub my eyes, the reality of what I’ve just uncovered settling like a weight on my shoulders. The trap worked.

This is it. This is what I came here for. But it’s bigger than I imagined. And now, I’m going to need all the help I can get to bring it down.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? The brothers. They’re not just some guys I can rope into this and then walk away from. They’re caught up in this mess just as much as I am, whether they know it or not. And JT… God, JT. The man is a storm waiting to break, all fury and control, and I don’t know how he’s going to take this, how any of them will.

I close the laptop, my hands still shaking as I stand up, the blood rushes to my head as I force myself to move, to think, to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. The room feels too small, too confining, and I need to get out. Get some fresh air, find the brothers and tell them what I’ve found before I lose my nerve.

I make my way down the hall, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the lodge.

I find them outside, where I half-expected they’d be. JT is working on something near the logging trucks, his movements brisk and efficient, like he’s been up for hours.

Hank is nearby, looking like he’s just rolled out of bed but already deep in conversation with Ben.

“JT! Hank! Ben!” My voice cuts through the morning air, sharp and urgent. All three heads snap up, their gazes locking on me as I make my way across the yard, the laptop clutched tightly in my hands.

“What is it, Mac?” JT’s voice is cautious, wary even, as I reach them.

“I found something,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. “Something big.”

Hank’s brow furrows, concern flashing across his face. “What do you mean, something big ?”

I hold up the laptop, flip it open and turn the screen toward them. “You need to see this.”

They crowd around, peering at the screen as I hit play, the footage rolling out in front of them, as raw and undeniable as the knot in my stomach. I watch their faces, the way their expressions shift from confusion to shock to something much darker as the reality of what they’re seeing sinks in.

“Son of a bitch,” Ben mutters under his breath, his eyes wide, disbelief mingling with anger as he watches the footage play out.

Hank’s jaw tightens, his fists clench at his sides. “Who the hell are they?”

JT is silent, his eyes locked on the screen, his face is unreadable, but I can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles coil like a spring ready to snap. When the footage ends, the silence that follows is thick, and suffocating.

“I don’t know who they are,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “But they’re out there, and they’re running a full-blown poaching ring. This isn’t just about a few animals. This is about taking down a whole operation.”

JT’s gaze snaps to mine, his eyes hard, calculating. “And you want us to help you do it.”

“It’s not a matter of want,” I reply, meeting his stare head-on. “It’s a matter of need. We can’t take them down alone. We need to work together on this, or they’re going to keep getting away with it. They’re on your land, JT. If we don’t stop them now, it’s only going to get worse.”

JT looks away, his jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the laptop as if he might break it in half. “This is a hell of a mess, Mac,” he finally says.

“I know. But we have to stop it before it gets worse.”

Ben steps forward, placing a hand on JT’s shoulder. “She’s right, JT. We can’t let this slide. We’re in this, whether we like it or not.”

“We’ve got to take them down. For Dad. For the land. For us,” Hank says.

JT is silent for a long moment, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for an answer out there in the cold morning light. Finally, he nods, a short, sharp movement that’s as much an agreement as it is a resignation. “Alright,” he says, his voice firm. “We had already agreed to help you this morning, Mac. We do this together. But the fact these poachers are active changes things, it makes it more dangerous. We have to do it my way.”

"Your way?" I challenge, standing my ground despite the intimidating aura radiating from JT.

"Yes, my way. You want our help, Mac. And we're willing to give it. But in return, you will follow my lead."

I open my mouth to argue but Hank steps in before I can utter a word. "He's right, Mac," he says, his tone calm and soothing as he places a comforting hand on my arm. "We know these woods better than you do. We've spent our entire lives here."

They’re not leaving much room here, but I also don’t know what the best way to handle this situation is. I need them as much as they need me.

"Understood," I say finally, letting out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. "Your way, JT." I close the laptop and hand it back to JT, our fingers brushing in the brief exchange. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and from the subtle shift in his expression, I think he feels it too.

His gaze darkens, any hint of the previous anger replaced with an intensity that sends my heart thudding against my ribcage. Our eyes stay locked for a moment too long. Then his attention shifts back to the laptop in his hands.

“Mac,” JT’s voice carries a note of warning in his voice. It's as if he senses the thoughts swirling through my mind and knows the dangerous path they're leading us on. But I’m not about to back away from him, not when we’ve come this far.

Ignoring the warning, I reach out, and place my hand on his arm. His skin is warm and I can feel the heat seeping into me. His muscles tense beneath my fingers, but he doesn't pull away.

“There’s a chance we might discover that your dad was involved with them, you know that right?” I say, addressing the massive elephant in the room.

Ben nods, running his hand through a mess of his hair.

“Yeah. We know. We’re ready for whatever truth might come out of this.”

"We’ll need to prepare," he says, his voice gruff. "Get our gear together. Form a plan."

I nod, pushing down the flutter of nerves in my stomach. "Right," I say, stealing a glance at the three Truitt brothers in front of me. “Thank you.”

Hank tilts his head and flashes me a half smile, “Don’t thank us just yet.”

The sun’s almost gone now, the last streaks of light fading into deep purples and reds across the sky. The forest around us is sinking into shadow. The air has a chill to it, the kind that bites at your skin and makes you wish for the warmth of the lodge. But we’re miles away, trying to get the last camera up before it’s too dark to see.

My leg throbs with every step, a sharp reminder of the trap that nearly cost me more than just a few nights’ rest. I try not to limp, and try to push through the pain, but I can feel the ache deep in my bones. I’m exhausted, both from the day and from the weight of everything we’ve discovered.

JT is beside me, his hands steady as he checks the camera’s position, his movements precise. He’s been quiet today, more focused than usual, and I can’t help but feel like there’s something unsaid hanging between us, something heavy and dangerous.

Everyone’s been working, following his instructions.

“Just a little higher,” I say, pointing to the tree branch I think will give us the best angle. “We need to cover the entire clearing.”

JT gives me a sharp look, his jaw clenched. “It’s fine where it is.”

“No, it’s not,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “You’re missing part of the trail. If we don’t catch everything, this whole setup is pointless.”

“I know what I’m doing, Mac,” JT growls, stepping closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. “This isn’t my first time out here.”

I cross my arms, refusing to back down, even though the closeness of him, and the intensity in his eyes, is making my heart race in ways I don’t want to admit. “It’s not my first time setting up a camera either. You’re too low. It won’t capture the right angles.”

JT steps even closer, his body nearly brushing mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold air. “You think you can do better?”

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on, even though every nerve in my body is screaming at me to move away, and put some distance between us. But I can’t. The air between us is thick with tension, the kind that’s been building for days, weeks even. And now, out here, alone in the fading light, it feels like it’s about to snap.

“Yeah, I do,” I say, my voice tight, defiant. “Move over.”

He doesn’t budge. Instead, his eyes darken, and I see something flicker there—something more than just anger or frustration. It’s deeper, something raw and unguarded.

“Mac,” he says, my name comes out in a low, rough whisper.

Before I can respond, he reaches out and grips my arm. Not hard, but firm enough that I feel the weight of his touch. The world around us seems to narrow, the trees fading into the background, the cold night air forgotten as his fingers brush against my skin, igniting something inside me I wasn’t prepared for.

We’re tired, and on edge after spending the whole day outside.

“Let me go,” I say, but there’s no real conviction in my voice. It’s a half-hearted protest, and we both know it.

His grip loosens, but he doesn’t step back. Instead, his eyes search mine, and I see the conflict there, the battle between wanting to push me away and wanting to pull me closer.

And then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he pulls me closer, his free hand moving to the small of my back. His touch is hot, searing through the layers of my clothes, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Why do you always have to fight me on everything?”

“I’m not fighting,” I whisper, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Are we even going to talk about what happened last night?”

His gaze turns steely, a shield pulling over his emotions. "There's nothing to talk about," he grumbles, trying to step away.

"Nothing?" I ask, refusing to release my grip on his arm. "So, you touching me, fucking me like that was... what? Just a mistake?"

"Mac, we're here for a reason."

“And you think that reason has nothing to do with what's happening between us?”

There is silence, heavy and tense, before he finally looks up again. When he does, there’s a raw honesty in his eyes that shakes me to my core. “I don’t know what’s happening between us and my brothers,” he admits. “All I know is that every time I’m around you, I can’t think straight.”

"I'm not any better. I can’t focus on anything when any of you are near."

His grip tightens on me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Then maybe it’s better we keep our distance. We need to stay focused."

"Are we not focusing on the right things?"

"I don’t know what to focus on anymore," he finally admits, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his rugged features.

"Distracting or not, this... whatever it is... it's real.”

"We can't afford this right now, Mac.”

“What are you so damn afraid of?”

His jaw tightens, his grip on me loosens and the battle returns to his eyes. "I'm not afraid," he growls.

"You are.” There’s a fire in my chest that matches the one in my eyes. “You’re afraid of what this means. You’re afraid of what it might cost us.”

He looks away, as if he can't stand the accusation in my eyes. "Mac, you don’t understand…”

“Then make me understand!” I practically yell, pushing at his chest with my free hand. “What is it?”

His gaze drops, his jaw clenches. "Losing."

"Losing what?"

"Everything," he murmurs. His voice is so low, I almost miss it. He lets out a resigned sigh, releasing me from his grip. "Losing the peace we've fought so damn hard to have. Losing our focus on who we're really against."

"And losing me?" I ask in a whisper. He doesn't meet my gaze, his eyes trained on some distant spot in the forest.

"Especially you," he finally concedes, his voice rough with raw, sincere emotion.

"Screw that." Anger rises within me, burning hotter than any fear or confusion I'd felt before. "You don't get to decide what you might lose when it comes to me."

He takes a step toward me and suddenly his lips are on mine. Firm. Insistent. His hand at the small of my back pulls me closer, molding my body to his. It’s a searing kiss that speaks louder than words, one that tells me everything he isn't saying out loud.

I gasp against his mouth, taken aback by the intensity of it. I should pull away, should remember why we’re here and what we need to do. But as JT’s arms wrap around me and his body presses against mine with a primal urgency, all rational thoughts slip away.

The kiss deepens as he starts to guide us backward. I don’t even notice when my back hits the solid bark of a tree until he lifts me against it.

“You are such a pain in my ass,” he murmurs.

“Takes one to know one,” I retort, grinding my hips against his. The way his eyes darken in response sends a jolt of need straight to my core. “Admit you like it.”

“Damn straight,” he growls, his hands roaming over my curves, exploring every inch of me he can reach.

We make out like we’re starving for each other, as if this might be our last chance to feel the heat of skin on skin, the press of flesh against flesh, the thud of our hearts beating in time against each other. And maybe it is.

With shaking hands, he starts to unbutton my flannel shirt, revealing a thin tank top underneath. Desire pools low in my belly as his heated gaze rakes over me, settling on my now-hardened nipples, visible through the thin fabric.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with want.

“I know,” I tease, trying to diffuse the intensity of the moment. But it doesn’t work.

Instead, JT’s expression darkens, the ferocity of his desire unmistakable. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

And then his lips are on mine again, erasing all other thought.

“You know,” I pant. “If Ben and Hank are back, they’re going to see this all on the cameras.”

He grins, a wicked glint in his eyes as he begins to undo my jeans.

“Good. I want those fuckers to know what they’re missing out on.” I think of Ben and Hank at the house, watching me being fucked by their brother on the television.

I can sense the heat building between my legs, and a slight shudder runs down my spine as I picture them watching this forbidden moment unfold on the screen in front of them. It's almost like I can feel their eyes on me, adding fuel to the fire that is burning within me like I’m starring in my own porno.

“Oh, you like that don’t you, love?” JT murmurs in my ear as his fingers slide between my legs.

The pleasure of his touch is heightened by the taboo thought of the other two men, probably gritting their teeth as they sat a few miles away, unable to touch me themselves. Would they start touching themselves? It’s an excruciatingly erotic thought.

“You have no idea,” I gasp, my head thrown back in ecstasy as his fingers delve deeper, his thumb finding my aching clit.

“I bet you’re wet just thinking about them, aren’t you? About all of us fucking you again.”

His words only fan the flames of my desire as I visualize them, cocks in their hands, imagining it’s me they are touching.

“God, yes,” I moan.

“Turn around, so they can see you.” He flips me in front of the camera and my backside pushes against his front. He pulls my shirt up, exposing me to the red blinking light of the camera. Without another word, he unzips his jeans and takes his long, thick length in his hand, rubbing the head against my dripping entrance.

My heart races as he enters me from behind, filling me up so completely. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into me as if he can’t get enough of me either.

“I want them to see how fucking tight you are around me, how wet you get for me.”

His words push me further over the edge, the thought of Ben and Hank jealous and aroused by the sight of us fuels the fire within me.

“Oh god, yes,” I moan loudly, my walls gripping him, milking him, wanting more of him.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans in my ear, his hand finding my breast, squeezing it roughly, as if he is a proxy for his brothers. “Let them see how much you love it, how much you love us.”

With each thrust, I can’t help but get lost in the idea of the three of them, surrounding me, taking me, pleasuring me in every way imaginable like they had the night before.

“Faster,” I moan, my legs shaking with pleasure. “Faster, JT.”

He obliges, his hips slamming into mine with an intensity I’ve never felt before. The thought of Ben and Hank, their hands probably in fists, or in their pants, only spurs us on further.

“I’m going to-” I pant, my orgasm barreling towards me like a freight train. “Oh, god, I’m going to come.”

“Say it, Mac,” he grunts, his grip on my hips tightening. “Say it for them to hear.”

“I’m coming!” I barely manage to say as my climax overtakes me. I close my eyes and picture them, sweaty, panting, their cocks in their hands, masturbating to the sight of their brother fucking me senseless.

"Damn," JT pants, “You’re so fucking hot, Mac. You're gonna be the death of us."

We both catch our breath, his spent cock still inside me as we lean against the tree, our bodies entwined.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“I know,” I say, my voice shaky. Neither one of us says anything as we zip up our pants and I adjust my top so it's back on properly.

“You think I’d get enough of you,” he whispers.

“Likewise.”

“Let’s head back.”

Side-by-side, we start to make our way back but only a few yards in, JT holds up his hand.

“Did you?” he stops, looking around. “Never mind—I’m imagining things.”

But then we both hear it.

Deep, whispering voices that aren’t Ben or Hank’s.

JT reaches for his walk-talkie, “I’m letting the guys know that we’re following these fuckers. I think the poachers have finally shown up.”