Piece Us Together (Monstrous Survivors #3)

8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Maison

I feel strung out, almost floaty. It’s a lot like the exhausted peace I find at the end of a long session punching the heavy bag, but different somehow. Safer, maybe. Lighter.

Fingers trail along my cheek. I startle, the touch immediately falling away but leaving a tingling warmth behind on my skin. Hunter’s smile is guilty when I manage to focus on him after a few hard blinks. “You with us?”

It takes a few more seconds before I get it together enough to realize where I am and what the fuck is happening. That’s when I remember the way he looked at me as Nolan came. Looked right at me and said, “ So fucking good for me. ”

I jerk away from him as the painfully sharp feeling in my chest returns, not caring when my elbow smashes into the headboard behind me. I don’t want to be good for you, I try to yell, but the words stick. I feel like I’m choking on them. Drowning in them. I can feel him watching me, can see his hand hovering nearby. Don’t touch me, don’t do it, I’ll fucking—

“Maison…”

“I’m fine.” I swallow hard. Rub a hand over my face. Pull myself together like I’m so very fucking good at. “Fuck, where’s—” My eyes find my answer before I can finish asking the question, landing on Nolan where he’s laid out across the mattress, half-asleep and smiling. I soften at the sight, running my fingers through his hair. He makes a soft, happy little sound as he presses into the touch and nuzzles against my leg nearest his head. Something settles in my chest.

“You did so well,” I murmur, continuing to stroke his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Real good.” His eyebrows pull in. “You’re good?”

I smile. “I’m great, baby.”

“Good.” He sighs, all happy and sleepy, pressing his face harder against my leg before letting his eyes fall closed. “Good.”

Hunter shifts beside us, drawing my attention again. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, looking completely at ease, but there’s something underlying his usual calm. Something slightly off.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his hazel eyes boring into me.

I fight the urge to squirm. It was easier when lust and adrenaline were rushing through me, allowing for lingering looks and unwanted praise, but now that floaty feeling is starting to turn into something itchy and heavy, and I want to get away from him as fast as fucking possible.

What are you doing to me, Hunter Meridian? And why am I just as afraid for you to stop as I am for you to continue?

“Maison?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side like he can understand me better at that angle. “Are you feeling alright? That was a lot, for the both of you.”

“I’m fine,” I growl. “Like I said before.”

“Are you?”

“Listen, all I did was talk dirty and fuck my boyfriend.”

Hunter’s eyes fall to Nolan, taking him in. I do the same. He’s asleep. I’m not sure the last time I’ve seen him look so peaceful, even in unconsciousness. It’s a startling relief. Finally, we figured it out.

“I can’t speak for him, but I think he got what he needed, from what I can tell,” Hunter muses, seeming to be on the same wavelength as me.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, trying to escape the sensation that it’s about to close up. “Yeah, I think he did.”

Hunter tilts his head again. “What about you?”

“I just needed him to get what he needed,” I explain. My cock is out now, soft and still a little damp as it lies against my thigh. I’m suddenly very aware that Hunter is still fully dressed. He even zipped himself back up. “So, yeah. Yeah, that was—uh…good. Because he’s the focus here, not me.”

Hunter sighs deeply before nodding once. “I’ll be right back. I need to get a warm cloth to clean him up. Stay right there, alright?”

I bristle at the order. “Sure.”

His jaw twitches before he turns away and slips into his adjoined bathroom. The water runs for a moment before he returns with a blue washcloth. On the way back to the bed, he grabs a small basket that’s on top of his dresser. I can see two bottles of what looks to be sports drinks and a small stuffed bear. I frown as he places it beside my hip.

As he gently rolls Nolan over to clean him, I eye the rest of the basket’s contents. There are mini-bags of trail mix, granola bars, and small chocolates. A small, red first-aid kit is tucked beside an instant ice pack and an instant heat pack. There’s a green tube of something I can’t read the label of and a small vial-like thing that I’d almost think was lube if I didn’t already realize this is clearly an aftercare kit, not something for sex. Perhaps the most confusing thing out of it all is the plastic ring holding what appears to be a stack of flashcards together.

Hunter settles on the bed, his knee pressing against the opposite side of the basket from where it’s pressed against me. It doesn’t feel like nearly enough space.

He pulls Nolan’s head into his lap and tugs a throw blanket over him, starting to stroke his hair. My fingers twitch with the need to take my boyfriend from him, but I fight it— for now.

“I’ll wake him in a minute,” Hunter murmurs. “I want him to take a few bites and drinks before he fully passes out. I’ll put something on his welts, too.”

I swallow. It’s a little harder than it should be. “Okay.”

“What about you?” he asks, his hand still moving in Nolan’s hair. His other hand comes to rest on the lip of the basket. “Would you be willing to have a little snack for me? A drink?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t need it. That basket is for him.”

“Would you anyway?” he asks. I realize he seems off again, like he was before leaving for the bathroom. Unsteady, almost. It’s even more obvious in the way his voice wavered like he was begging me. His eyes are full of emotion when they settle on me. Emotions I can’t—or maybe don’t want—to figure out. “Can you, for me?”

“You’re not my dom.”

“Would you anyway?” he asks again.

I take a breath. I guess I am a little hungry. And thirsty. And it’s not like it’s that big of a deal, anyway. Even though it comes from an aftercare basket doesn’t mean it’s aftercare. I don’t fucking need aftercare.

“Fine.” I grab a bag of trail mix and a drink, not wanting to give him the chance to grab them for me. I don’t need to be cared for by him. That’s not our relationship. He’s Nolan’s dom and I’m Nolan’s boyfriend. He and I are nothing to each other directly.

Hunter watches me with a surprising intensity. It’s mildly uncomfortable. I look away, setting my eyes on Nolan in his lap instead. Nolan is safe to focus on, like a barrier.

“Is it normal for him to sleep like this?” I ask, deciding I’d rather talk about my Nolan-related anxiety than about myself.

“Yes. Especially with it being his first time in a while. Sort of like when you haven’t drank in a long time and then a single glass of wine makes you tipsy.”

His eyebrows pull in, his gaze falling to Nolan. He traces a finger along Nolan’s cheek and over one of his ears, reverent. I think I shouldn’t like the way he touches him, but I actually don’t mind it. There’s something that makes me feel almost warm about it. Hunter isn’t taking care of my boyfriend, he’s helping me take care of my boyfriend. That’s a major difference.

It’s when Hunter turns his fucking attention to me that I have an issue.

“You did well, you know,” Hunter murmurs, not taking his eyes off of Nolan. “I saw your hesitation at the start. Your fear. But when you let go and focused on him, it was quite beautiful. You even let yourself get lost in it at the end. How did it feel?”

I fiddle with the cap on my bottle, trying to hide that my hands are trembling. “It was…good.”

“Is there anything you need to be different next time?”

Yeah, don’t fucking look at me like you look at Nolan, like you want me too, like I’m yours too. Don’t look right at me and say, “So fucking good for me,” like anything I did was for you.

“Maison?” he asks after letting me sit with the question for a while. “It’s okay if you don’t have anything. You have time to think, too.”

Nolan saves me from having to answer, stirring awake in Hunter’s lap before jolting into an upright position and scrambling back. I catch him before he can inch off the side of the damn bed. The moment he sees my face, he relaxes with a deep sigh, his fingers clinging to my forearms.

“You’re alright,” I promise him. “You’re here with me and Hunter. You did a scene with him, remember? You fell asleep for a few minutes.”

He clambers into my lap, tucking his head under my chin. He sucks in a deep breath. Then another. I feel his head turn so he can look at Hunter. “I’m sorry for falling asleep, sir.”

Hunter’s smile is soft. Pleased. “I take it as a compliment. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good.” He wiggles in my lap a little. “Sore, though.”

“Let’s take care of that, then. Maison, can you sit back against the headboard, your legs stretched out? You can pull on your underwear if you’d like, then place a pillow for him to rest his head on. Nolan, you’ll lie flat on your stomach, head in his lap. Can you both do that for me?”

Can you both do that for me?

The only reason I don’t snap at him is because of the happy, almost-dazed look on Nolan’s face. I do pause to grab my underwear though. It makes me feel just a little better about things, like there’s a barrier between Hunter and me. Like I’m a little less vulnerable.

Once we’re settled as he instructed, Hunter pulls the green tube from the basket along with the other sports drink and a few of the mini-chocolates. I’m handed the drink and chocolates, then—despite not having seen one earlier—he pulls out a damn bendy straw from the basket and hands it over as well. “Feed him and give him drinks for me. Slowly.”

It’s close enough to an order to have me squirming, but also close enough to just caring for the man I love that I accept it anyway.

It wouldn’t kill him to say please though, the bossy fucker.

“Nolan, I’m going to put this gel on your welts. Let me know if it hurts too badly, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Nolan says sleepily, his eyes only half-open as I bring the straw to his lips for his first sip.

Hunter drapes the blanket from before over Nolan’s shoulders, letting it pool around his waist, then settles between Nolan’s legs and opens the tube. I watch, fascinated not by the gel but by the fact that I don’t mind the sight of Nolan’s ass and thighs all red and welted. It should make me sick, but just like when Hunter was delivering the blows, it doesn’t really bother me. There’s an underlying current of worry, maybe a slight urge to shove Hunter away and take care of Nolan myself, but it’s nothing but a soft thrum. When Hunter was really going at him earlier, Nolan’s mouth around my cock and my hand in his hair, even that thrum had gone away. Turns out, watching him get hurt in a way he likes isn’t nearly as difficult as being the one to have to deliver the blows.

“Was good?” Nolan mumbles between bites of chocolate.

“So fucking good,” I say, followed immediately by Hunter’s, “You were amazing, Nolan.”

“And you’re okay?” he whispers, turning just enough to look up at me.

I smile, finding that I don’t even have to force it. “I am, baby. I think that went really well, don’t you?”

“Mhmm.” He nuzzles the pillow before sinking into the mattress with a happy sigh. “He took good care of us.”

My stomach swoops. Us. Hunter took good care of us —not just Nolan, but me. As if I need to be taken care of.

I look up and lock eyes with Hunter. His hand is settled on Nolan’s hip, pausing in its task of smoothing gel over his skin. I feel like I’m practically fucking vibrating with the urge to scream.

“He took very good care of you,” I say instead, not breaking eye contact.

The skin around Hunter’s eyes pinches. He caught the change, but he doesn’t call me on it. “Thank you, Maison.”

Nolan snorts a soft laugh. “You guys sound so formal. You just had sex.”

“You had sex with each of us,” I tell him, at least managing to keep my tone light and teasing. I stuff another piece of chocolate past his lips. “We didn’t have sex with each other.”

“Could, though,” he says around his mouthful of candy. “Be hot.”

I clench my jaw, figuring now isn’t the time to start a fight. I avoid looking at Hunter. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking.

“All done,” Hunter says after a few tense moments. He clears his throat. “How does it feel, Nolan? Do you want ice or heat?”

“Mmngh.”

The plastic loop with flashcards appears beside Nolan’s head, Hunter suddenly closer to us. I hold perfectly still as he shows it to Nolan. “Words are hard right now, hey, darling? Why don’t you show me on the cards what you need instead?”

Darling .

He’d called him that during sex. It was fine then. Hot, even. But now it’s different. More…just more.

My skin crawls with anxiety. Not because I hate it, but because I—well, because I don’t .

Nolan fumbles with the cards for a moment before tapping his finger against the one that depicts cuddling. Then, after a slight hesitation, he fumbles the cards until he can tap the one for sleep.

“Perfect.” Hunter gives him a bright smile before quickly repacking the basket and placing it on the floor. Then he tugs the thick comforter off the right side of the bed before gesturing to the exposed sheets, where Nolan’s cum didn’t soak through. “Go ahead and move over there. I’ll finish pulling this off and get you guys a new one.”

I nod, moving over despite Nolan being wrapped around my waist like an octopus. Once the blanket is fully gone, I scoop him up against my chest instead, tucking his head under my chin. He squirms as he gets comfortable before sighing happily.

When Hunter appears with a new blanket, he freezes at the end of the bed, his hands clenching the fabric so hard his knuckles go white. It only takes a few seconds before he’s shaking his head and forcing a smile. It’s weak. I can’t look at it.

He lays the blanket over us, making sure we’re covered from Nolan’s shoulders to our feet. I tuck the fabric a little around where Nolan is resting on my chest before starting to stroke my fingers through his hair.

“You were so good,” I whisper. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby.”

I swear I can feel his entire body melt against me, even his breathing slowing. He doesn’t answer other than a soft humming sound. I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his hair. Then I look up to catch Hunter about to leave.

“Hey.” I reach a hand out, my chest squeezing tight at the thought I might not be able to get him to stop. “ Wait .”

He pauses at the door, his hand on the light switch. His smile is sad, his gaze flickering like he can’t keep it on us for more than a few seconds at a time. “There are more blankets in the closet if you need them. The basket still has snacks and drinks. I’m the first door up the stairs if you need me for any reason, okay?”

“But…” I look at Nolan, already asleep in my arms, then back at Hunter. “But you need something too, don’t you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Will you?” I ask, cocking my brow the same way he did when he asked me that earlier. I remember the research I did before. Aftercare wasn’t just for the sub. Doms can struggle without it too. “Do you need something else? He’ll never forgive himself if he went to sleep and you got upset or whatever. Drop—that’s what it’s called. Doms drop, right? How do we stop that for you?”

He attempts a smirk, but it falters. All of his usual confidence is gone right now. It makes me itch with worry. Is he dropping already? Or is he just tired?

“If you don’t mind, I could use it, yes.” He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “I can sit in the chair. Just seeing him be okay for a while will be enough to settle me. Then I can go to my room.”

I should argue. It’s the right thing to do. After the night he gave Nolan, after everything he’s done for the both of us, he’s earned a night in our bed. Just one night. It wouldn’t mean anything. Hell, it’d maybe even help Nolan, waking up to both of us.

But I can’t stop seeing the way he looked at me, eyes intense, lips curled into a sexy fucking smirk. So fucking good for me , as if I’d fucking done it for him. As if I belong to him. As if it’s the weight of my world he’s lifting too, not just Nolan’s.

I can’t stop feeling the burn in my chest. I can’t stop feeling off-kilter. Feeling floaty. Feeling fucked in the head.

I can’t have this man in my bed.

I just— can’t .

“Grab a blanket,” I mumble, gesturing a hand toward the chair he mentioned. “In case you fall asleep.”

It’s all I can give him.

“Thank you.” He gives me the saddest goddamn smile I’ve ever seen.

I close my eyes so I don’t have to see it.

I wake with a jolt when a hand squeezes my shoulder, just barely stopping my fist before it swings. An apology is already on my lips before I register that it wasn’t Nolan who tried to wake me—which makes sense, he knows by now that I should be woken from afar.

It’s Hunter.

“I’m sorry,” he says before I can. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s not you.” I sit up, running a hand through my mess of hair. My heart is having a hard time calming down despite the realization that there’s no danger. Or maybe there is. “Not a good idea for anyone to touch me like that when I’m sleeping, for future reference.”

“Noted.” The scent of coffee fills my nose as he offers a steaming mug to me. I take it, not looking at his face. My “thank you” is mumbled. He doesn’t acknowledge it. “Nolan is making us breakfast. I told him I’d wake you.”

I keep my eyes on the liquid that’s probably too hot to try and drink. “Is he okay?”

“Yes. A little anxious, I think. He’s ready to talk about where we go from here, but nervous to do so.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to offer him the chance to kneel while we eat, if that’s alright with you. It may help calm his mind.”

It probably will. I wish I understood that. I wish I could give him that.

I wish I could have something like that for myself.

“Okay.” I try to look at him. I can’t. Why? What does this man have that makes me like this? How do I get it to fucking stop? “I wanted to say—you did good last night. You were good with him. Whatever it is he’s been looking for, the thing I couldn’t give him—I saw it last night, the moment you gave him it. That peace or whatever. I wanted to thank you for that.”

The words are rehearsed, a small speech I prepared as I drifted to sleep last night, but they still come out shaky.

When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “I’m glad.”

“You probably noticed—I mean, with his scars and—well, you might have figured out he has some trauma in his past.”

“You both do.”

I look at him. I don’t mean to. I can’t stop, once I’ve done it, though.

He looks good, for the morning. Hell, for any time of day, really. Even in sleep pants and a sweatshirt with a hole in the neck, he’s exuding that calm confidence he always has.

His glasses are missing, his eyes more green than hazel in the morning light, intense as I stare right into them. I don’t have it in me to tell him he’s wrong about us both having trauma. It’d be a waste anyway. I’ve let him see too much already to convince him that I’m fine now.

I swallow. Then I manage to tear my gaze away, returning it to the coffee. “I’m just glad it went well for him. Thank you.”

“I’m glad, too. Now it’s time for you both to decide what you want going forward. There are options. We can do what we did last night again, maybe once or twice a month, or more often. We can do longer scenes, like a whole weekend. We could even set up something that has a hands-off element, such as rules for Nolan when he’s not here, for him to follow while waiting for his next scene. We can discuss it at breakfast, or you can let me know later. Whatever the two of you need.”

What do I need?

So much.

So fucking much.

But this man can’t give me any of it.

I can’t let him.

I won’t.

That’s okay, I remind myself. He’s here for Nolan, not me.

“We’ll ask Nolan.” I leave the bed, careful not to spill the coffee. “Whatever he needs.”

He doesn’t step back when I stand, despite how close we are.

I could skirt around him.

I don’t.

“Maison,” he murmurs after we just stand there for a few seconds, not even looking at each other. At least, me not looking at him. I’m pretty sure I can feel him looking at me.

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know something before you let Nolan make this decision for you both. It feels wrong not to tell you. You deserve to know.”

That…doesn’t sound great.

“Okay.”

“Can you look at me, please?”

There’s something about this man—this dom —asking me please that unravels me a little. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand anything with him.

I look at him.

He’s gotten closer. I can smell his toothpaste. His deodorant. I can see every emotion in his eyes, as he doesn’t seem bothered to try to hide them.

“I’m interested in both of you, Maison.” His hand flutters at his side. I track it out of the corner of my eye, watching him raise it halfway toward me, then drop it. I remember watching those hands last night. I had told myself I was watching to make sure he didn’t harm Nolan. It’d been a lie. “If this continues, I would love to pursue something with you as well. With the three of us, together. I’m not just in this for Nolan.”

I shake my head, sure there must be a catch. “But—why? I’m not a sub. I’m not anything.”

His lips twitch. “Oh, sad eyes, you have no idea what you could be.”

I step away. The bed is against the backs of my legs. I’m trapped for just a moment before he respects the obvious desire to escape and takes a few steps back himself. It should be easier to breathe, but it just gets harder.

“I’m not a sub,” I tell him again.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I know. That doesn’t stop my interest in you. An interest I’ve had since the first night we met, guns and all.”

“But you need a sub.”

“I do. And Nolan needs a dom. And you and Nolan need each other. What we did last night worked for everyone.” He smiles, but it’s fragile. There’s so much fucking hope weighing it down. Hope he’s not even trying to hide. It hurts to fucking look at. “But while I don’t need it, I would love to have both of you. Not like last night. Something more. Not both of you as my subs, either. Just both of you as mine , in whatever form that turns out to be.”

No.

No, I don’t want that.

I don’t want him.

What kind of man would that make me?

What kind of boyfriend?

Not that it even matters, because I don’t want him, or need him, or anything to do with him. He’s a dom for Nolan. He’s a good dirty talker and nice to look at. He’s the guy who fills a need in my boyfriend so I can love him like he deserves—nothing more.

“Just think about it.” He’s still trying to smile. It’s not so much hopeful as it’s sad now. “Just know that it’ll work out either way. Like I said, last night was great, and it seemed to give everyone what they needed. I’m just saying that there could be more, if everyone wanted that. I don’t even know what it’d look like, but I’m open to it. Even if it’s just physical—I’d just about die to get my hands on you, if you’d allow it.”

My voice isn’t working. I can only nod once, sharp.

“I just thought you should know, before you make the decision.”

I nod again.

Then I walk out of the room on my wobbly legs before I can do something insanely stupid like panic or tear him a new one or call this whole thing off.

Before I can do something insanely stupid like say yes .