Claimed by 3 Mountain Men (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

22. Hank

22

HANK

I grit my teeth, staring at the television screen.

My cock’s as hard as a damn two by four, and it isn’t just from the sight of Mac naked, her tanned skin against his, her tits bouncing, letting out cries of ecstasy. The worst part is JT knows exactly what he’s doing, turning her around to tease us, like he has the right.

Every thrust, every moan, every kiss between them only fuels the fire burning inside me.

“Fuck,” I groan, unable to tear my eyes away as JT drives into her, his hips a blur.

Next to me, Ben’s in the same boat, his jaw clenched so tight I’m positive he’s going to break a tooth.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his hand fisting in his jeans. “I never thought I’d be jealous of my own fucking brother."

“Join the club man.”

My pants feeling tighter by the second as I helplessly watch my brother fuck the woman I’ve been obsessed with. But we have to share. That’s how this goes, but damn does it suck to not be in on it.

“JT, you son of a bitch,” Ben growls, his fist clenching and unclenching. "Are you taking notes?”

I snort. “Sure, and tomorrow we can compare them.”

Despite my brave words, I’m jealous. The look on Mac’s face as she orgasms, eyes squeezing shut, her mouth forming a perfect O is enough to drive me crazy.

“Fuck, look at them,” Ben says, his voice thick with arousal.

“I know,” I say, my voice sounding as strangled as I feel.

I want nothing more than to have her pinned beneath me, my cock buried deep inside her, and hear her moans in my ear, not JT’s.

“We’re missing out, man,” Ben says, his voice laced with longing.

“I know,” I growl again, gripping my cock through my jeans. “Come on.” I’m unable to take it anymore. Ben and I head to the kitchen, and opt to crack open a beer. When she gets back, I’m going to be sure to make it clear, it’s not fair to tease either of us when we can’t do anything. It’s downright wicked.

After a few minutes, the heat is starting to dissipate through the room; when my walkie-talkie beeps on the coffee table, both of our heads whip up.

“Guys, we got eyes on what appears to be poachers,” JT’s voice breaks over the speaker. “We’re following them; one of you, stay on the camera, and the other, secure the property.”

Ben and I look at one another.

“I’ll stay on the cameras,” he says, his voice low but determined. “You head out, make sure everything’s locked down.”

I nod, grabbing my jacket from the chair, my heart already pounding in my chest. The adrenaline’s kicking in, the kind that makes your senses sharper, and makes every movement feel more precise. We’ve been waiting for this moment, but now that it’s here, it feels like the ground is shifting beneath our feet.

I strap the walkie-talkie and my knife to my belt and head for the door, my boots tread heavy on the wooden floor. As I reach the porch, the cold night air slaps me in the face, and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. The woods are dark, but that only gives me the advantage.

JT and Mac are out there with the poachers. That thought settles like a rock in my gut, the realization that they’re walking straight into danger makes my skin crawl. I trust JT to handle himself—hell, I trust Mac, too—but the stakes are much higher now.

I don’t know how I’ll react if I lose her.

The trees close in around me, the familiar sounds of the forest now laced with something else—something that feels like danger lurking just out of sight. The wind picks up, rustling the branches overhead, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.

As I secure the gates, checking the locks on the perimeter, JT’s voice comes through again, quieter this time. “We’re moving toward the northwest ridge.”

When I reach the edge of the clearing, I stop, listening for any signs of movement. The woods are quiet now, too quiet. The feeling of being watched creeps up my spine again. I glance over my shoulder, but there’s nothing there. Just shadows and the cold, biting wind.

I reach for the walkie again, ready to check in with Ben, but before I can press the button, there’s a sound—something off in the distance. Footsteps. Not JT’s, not Mac’s. Too heavy. Too deliberate.

Poachers.

My pulse quickens, and I crouch low, moving towards the sound, my hand instinctively goes to the knife strapped to my belt. I stay close to the trees, the darkness hiding my movements as I inch to the source of the noise. They’re moving towards the lodge.

I can’t let them get there.

The footsteps grow louder, and I know I’m running out of time. I press the button on the walkie, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ben, we’ve got movement. Poachers heading towards the lodge. I’m going to intercept.”

There’s a brief crackle, and then Ben’s voice comes through, tense but focused. “Copy that. Stay low.”

I move quickly now, keeping to the shadows as I follow the trail of footsteps through the trees. My heart pounds in my ears, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts, but I keep moving, knowing I’m getting closer.

And then, through the darkness, I see them. Three figures, dressed in dark clothes, rifles slung over their shoulders, moving with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing they’re not supposed to be here—but not caring.

I grit my teeth, my hand tightening around the handle of my knife. I’ve got to stop them before they get any closer.

The hunt’s on. And I’m not letting them win.

I feel a hand press down on my shoulder, immediately my instincts take over.

I whip around, my knife at the ready.

“It’s just me,” Ben whispers, his voice a calming presence in the darkness.

Relief floods me, and I let out a shaky exhale. “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Got your six,” he breathes, his own blade glinting in the moonlight. “Let’s do this. “We need to get closer, and I figured two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“What about the cameras?” I ask.

“You really think I’m about to miss any more action out here tonight?”

“Point taken.”

We continue forward, sticking to the shadows, and steadily close in on the poachers. They’re only about 50 yards ahead, and their voices carry through the still night air.

“Well, shit, we better find another trophy then, hadn’t we?” the one says, his voice laced with a sickening cackle. “Looks like it’s another dead end.”

Rage boils in my veins, and I clench my fist tighter around the hilt of my knife.

I see something shift out of the corner of my eye. JT and Mac are crouched away from us behind a thick log. I motion to them both. JT nods silently.

Mac gives me a quick smile, and I feel my heart skip a beat. They slowly make their way over to us, careful with each step.

We move as one through the trees, our footsteps almost in sync with the night. The adrenaline pumping through my veins sharpens every sound, and movement. JT is on my left, Mac on my right. I glance at her, and even in the dim light, I can see the determination etched on her face, though her wide eyes betray a hint of fear. She’s tough, but this is something different, something real.

The wind shifts, carrying with it the faint smell of smoke. The poachers have set up camp not far ahead.

We crouch low as the underbrush thickens, making sure to stay completely silent. The crunch of leaves beneath our boots is the only sound that betrays our presence, but it’s drowned out by the soft crackle of the fire up ahead. I can hear muffled voices now, low and rough, and I signal for JT and Mac to stop.

I peer through the trees, catching glimpses of the poachers. Three of them, just like before. Two are hunched near the fire, while the third is bent over something I can’t quite make out. But there’s no mistaking the glint of metal traps on the ground beside them.

“Got ‘em,” I whisper to JT. He nods, his eyes narrowing as he watches the men.

We stay still for a moment, assessing the situation. There’s no room for error here. One wrong move, and they’ll know we’re on to them.

“You two circle around,” I murmur. “I’ll take them head-on. We need to take them down quickly and quietly.”

JT looks like he wants to argue, but he nods, glancing at Mac, who’s already gripping her knife with white knuckles. “Stay close to me,” he whispers to her, and she gives a quick nod.

We split up, the forest swallows us as we creep through the shadows. My pulse thunders in my ears, my focus locked on the poachers. They’re completely unaware that we’re closing in, still laughing about something we can’t hear.

I inch closer, my knife ready, my breaths slow and controlled. I can see their faces now, illuminated by the firelight—hard, cruel expressions etched into their features. These men don’t care about the land, the animals, or the lives they destroy. They’re here for one thing and one thing only; money.

I signal JT and Mac with a subtle hand gesture, and they begin to move into position, flanking the camp from opposite sides. The third poacher stands up, stretching and looking out into the woods. My heart pounds as I duck behind a tree, my breath held tight in my chest. He’s close—too close.

The man starts to turn, but before he can react, I leap from the shadows, tackling him to the ground. He lets out a grunt of surprise, as his rifle clatters to the forest floor.

“Shit!” one of the others yell, scrambling for his gun, but JT is already on him, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw in a sickening thud. The poacher stumbles back, dazed, and JT’s on him in a flash, knocking the rifle out of his hands and pinning him to the ground.

I wrestle with the guy beneath me, his hands flailing as he tries to reach for his knife. But I’m faster, and I slam my fist into his gut before ripping the blade from his grasp. He gasps, the wind knocked out of him, and I press the knife to his throat.

“Don’t move,” I growl, my voice low and deadly.

Ben moves like a shadow, slipping behind the third poacher before he even realizes what’s happening. He takes the third out with a quick, clean strike, and he crumples to the ground, his scream is cut off by Ben’s hand clamping roughly over his mouth.

The camp erupts into chaos, the firelight flickering wildly as the poachers struggle to fight back, but it’s over before it begins. JT lands another solid punch to the second guy’s face, knocking him out cold, while Ben and I wrestle the third to the ground, securing his arms behind his back with a rough cord from his own pack.

The forest falls silent again, the only sound the labored breathing of the poachers as they lay sprawled out on the ground, bound and beaten.

JT straightens, wiping the sweat from his brow as he looks down at the unconscious men. “That went better than I expected,” he mutters, but there’s no humor in his voice.

I let out the breath I had been holding and step back from the guy I’ve got pinned. He’s still conscious, glaring up at me with wild, furious eyes, but he doesn’t dare move.

Mac comes beside me, her breathing hard but steady, her eyes wide as she looks from me to JT to Ben.

“We did it,” she whispers, more to herself than anyone else.

“Yeah. We did,” Ben sighs, shaking his head.

But as the adrenaline begins to fade, I realize that this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

JT steps forward, his eyes locking on the man I’ve got pinned. “Who are you working for?” His voice is cold, and dangerous.

The poacher glares up at him, blood dripping from his nose. “Go to hell.”

JT’s jaw clenches, and I can see the fury boiling just beneath the surface. He crouches down, getting in the guy’s face. “You’re going to tell us everything. Or you’re going to wish you had.”

I glance at Mac, her face pale, and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am.

This fight isn’t over.

Not even close.