Three Swedish Mountain Men: Chapter 15

I wake up in heaven. There’s no other word for it. Everything around me is soft and warm. I’m lying on a ridiculously comfortable mattress, covered by a squishy quilt, and on either side of me is a hot, naked, muscled man. I have to fight the urge to pinch myself. There’s no way this is my life. I don’t get this lucky.

Eli is lying in front of me, his curls falling over his eyes, breathing steadily. He’s pushed the quilt off in the night, and it’s laying low around his hips. My eyes follow the trail of fine hair leading down to his half-hard cock.

Jesus. Talk about morning wood.

“Morning,” a low voice grumbles behind me. I roll over. Riven’s awake, propped up on his elbow, an open book on his lap. He hasn’t put his contact lenses in yet, and he’s wearing his thick-rimmed glasses. His hair is rumpled around his head. My mouth practically waters. He looks sinful. Like a sexy, off-limits professor, or something.

“How did you sleep?” He asks, smiling slightly. He looks so hot that I can’t stop myself from tipping my lips up and kissing him. He tenses for a second, surprised; then cups my cheek, deepening the kiss. I sigh, melting into him.

He drops his hand under the cover, sliding it down between my breasts and over my stomach.

“How are you feeling?” He murmurs, his fingertips running tickly little circles on the sensitive skin. I arch my back, pushing into him. “Sore?”

“If I say yes, will you give me a private examination?” I whisper.

He chuckles, tilting my head to trail his hot mouth down my throat. I close my eyes. I can feel myself getting wet again under the covers.

“I think I gave you hickeys last night.” He touches his fingertips very lightly to my neck. “I might have gotten carried away,” he admits. “I couldn’t help myself. The noises that you were making…”

I shake my head. “I bruise like a peach. And we’re in the middle of nowhere; it’s not like anyone’s going to see them, anyway.” I actually kind of like the idea that he’s marked me up. There’s something so possessive and primal about it. He dips his head again, biting my throat softly, and I twist under the sheets as fire flickers through me. Reaching up, I grab him by the back of the head, tangling my fingers in his thick hair—

There’s a sudden shrill beep from the corner of the room. Riven groans, pulling away reluctantly.

I reach for him. “No. Come back. What is it?”

“My radio. Someone’s trying to get a hold of me.” He looks over his shoulder at the radio, hesitating.

I sigh. “You should go, then. It might be an emergency.”

He looks surprised. “Yes?”

“Of course. I’m not getting between you and your patients. Someone might need help.”

He studies me, dark eyes hot and melted behind his glasses, then presses a kiss to my shoulder and slides out of bed. I watch, my mouth practically watering, as he pulls a pair of grey sweatpants over his muscled thighs. He doesn’t bother with underwear, and I can see the outline of his hard cock against the fabric. Before he leaves, he picks up his pillow and whacks it down onto Eli’s face. Eli springs up, shouting a stream of swear words.

“Shut up,” Riven orders. “I’ve got to take a call. Keep Daisy company.”

Eli blinks his green eyes at me, his face relaxing into a lazy smile. “Hey, pretty girl.” He rolls closer and drapes an arm around my hips, pulling me closer. “Did Riv kiss you?”

“Um. Yes?”

“You poor thing.” He cups my cheek and kisses me gently. It’s not like his usual, sensual, sliding kisses; this one feels softer, more intimate. It’s a good-morning kiss between two lovers. The thought of that fills me with a soft, warm glow when he finally pulls back. “There. Hopefully that will cancel out his terrible technique.”

I laugh, trailing a hand down his bronzed chest. “I’m not picking sides. You’re both equally good kissers.”

“Sure, sure.” He tuts, stroking my throat. “Look what a mess he made of your neck. What is he, a vampire?”

“I’m sure my thighs are just as bad, thanks to you.”

“Let me just check.” He dives under the quilt before I can grab at him. I close my eyes as his curls tickle down my belly, then between my legs. My mouth falls open as he presses a tiny kiss to my clit, then pops his head back out again.

“You’re right,” he says sadly. “You look completely ravaged. Sorry about that.”

I’m about to demand he finish what he started, when I notice a flurry of white outside the window. “Oh, no.”

Eli trails his fingers over my thigh. “Not usually the response I get when I’m in bed with a girl, but okay.”

I point at the window. “It’s snowing again.”

“Yep. It does that a lot, in the Arctic Circle.”

I glare at him. He grins, hooking an arm around me and reaching for his phone. “Heavy snowfall tonight or tomorrow,” he reads from the weather app. “Yep. Looks like another storm.”

“God. How do you handle it? Being stuck here all winter must feel like you’re in prison.”

He shakes his head. “This isn’t anything like a prison. I would know.”

My lips twitch. “Why, you been?”

To my amazement, he nods. “Check my prison tat.” He twists, showing me a tattoo on his bicep that I didn’t notice last night. I lean in for a closer look. It’s a bit faded, but still clear; an even, four-pointed star done in black ink.

I run my fingertips over the lines, watching his thick muscles tense. “Are you serious? You got this in jail?”

“There’s not much else to do in there,” he says. The bitterness in his voice surprises me. “And some of the guys are very artistic.” He frowns, making a little move with his shoulders, like a duck flicking water off its back, then flops back down on the mattress. “You like tatted guys, honey?” He drawls, slipping back into his lazy, easygoing persona. “I can get more.”

I refuse to be distracted. “What happened?”

He smiles wryly. “You’re not meant to ask what happened. You’re meant to ask what did you do.”

I shrug. “Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re not a bad person.”

His eyes soften a bit. “Fuck, you’re sweet.”

“Maybe I’m being too trusting. Is this the part where you tell me you’re all murderers working together? You charm women up to the cabin, Cole takes them out with an axe, and then Riven dissects them for their organs?”

He nods, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t look in the freezer. It’s full of kidneys. No, it was, uh, possession. Coke. I was in for a year.”

Holy shit. A whole year? “How old were you?”

“It was only a few years ago.” He thinks. “Five, I think? I was twenty four.”

My mouth drops open. That’s so recent. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Not a high point in my life. But what can you do?” He grins, cheek dimpling. “Missed the women the most.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re full of shit.”

“You’re not the first to tell me,” he admits, stretching out on top of the pillows. He looks at me from under his lashes, green eyes twinkling. “You’re supposed to ask me if I did it, you know.”

“I am?”

He nods. “You’re terrible at this. I don’t want to just monologue about my tragic past all by myself. I’ll get shy.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know audience participation was required.” I curl up next to him, putting my face on his pillow. “Did you do it?” I whisper.

He rolls closer. “Nope.” He whispers back. “I was framed.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

He nods. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some rich bitch with a great lawyer and a party drug habit blamed it on me.”

“And you did a year with a bunch of drug criminals? Oh my God, Eli.”

His jaw tightens. “You know the real kicker?” He reaches out to play with a strand of my hair.

“What?”

“It was Riven’s dad who put me in jail.”

We stay in bed for another hour or so, messing around, then I eventually force myself to get up and take a shower. I’ve literally just soaped myself up when there’s a rough banging on the door. I sluice myself off quickly and wrap myself up in a towel to open the door.

Cole is standing on the other side, arms crossed over his chest. He scowls at me.

“Sorry, did you need the bathroom? Give me a sec, I’ll just dry off—”

“How long does it take to have a bloody shower?” He barks.

I check the clock on the wall. “I’ve been in here two minutes.”

“How the Hell am I meant to get to work if you’re taking up all the hot water?”

When I first got here, I would be irritated at him for being such an asshole. Now, though, I guess I’m getting more comfortable around him, because he just reminds me of a grumpy old man. I look at the coffee in his hand. “Look, maybe you should cut down,” I recommend, lowering my voice. “I hear too much caffeine can make you irritable. That’s clearly a major issue for you.”

His scowl deepens. “It’s my first cup.”

“So… this is just your personality?” I suck in a breath between my teeth. “God. That’s pretty unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“Get out of the bathroom.”

“Kay.”

Cole leaves for work after his shower, and Riven holes himself up in his room, answering phonecalls, so Eli and I spend the day lazing around the cabin. We make brunch—eggs, bacon, and avocado toast—then settle on the rug in front of the fire to play some more card games.

After last night, I can barely keep my eyes off him. He looks incredible, his square jaw highlighted by the flames, his wild auburn hair all lit up gold. Every time he leans over to stoke the fire or add some more wood, I get an excellent view of his biceps.

I run my fingers over the soft, worn rug. Just a few hours ago, I was laying here naked and panting, while two men took turns licking and kissing and sucking all over me. A blush rises to my cheeks at the memory.

“What are you thinking about?” Eli murmurs, his eyes flicking up from his hand. “It looks dirty.”

My blush deepens. The fire heats my skin almost uncomfortably. I squirm, fanning myself.

Eli’s smile turns wicked. He drops his cards and leans forward to grab my chin, kissing me slowly. We end up sprawling on the pillows, leisurely making out, our poker game forgotten.

As the day goes on, the snow starts to fall thicker and faster outside the windows. I guess Eli was right about the storm. “When’s Cole getting back?” I ask, biting the inside of my lip. He just shrugs. I frown. “But… what about the storm? What if he gets caught in it?”

“He won’t. The guy has crazy weather-prediction skills.” He puts down another card. We’ve now moved on a game he calls vändtia, which I am spectacularly bad at. “Anyway, he’s a ranger. He can handle the cold better than any of us. Your turn, babe.”

I try to settle back into the game, but I can’t concentrate. There’s a bad feeling in my gut. I’m sure something is wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. After losing three more games in a row, I give up.

“Where is he? The snow’s getting really bad, now.” All I can see out of the window is a thick flurry of white.

“He’s probably staying in the village overnight.” He touches a knuckle under my chin. “Relax, Tink. He’d have called if he was in trouble.”

I don’t like the idea of that. What if he can’t call, for some reason? What if he’s hurt himself? What if he got attacked by an animal, or he slipped on ice and cracked open his head, or—

Suddenly, the lights sputter and turn off. The cabin turns dark and shadowy. The only light is the grey reflecting off the snow outside the window, and the flickering orange of the fire.

“Fuck. That’ll be the generator.” Eli jumps to his feet. “Gimme a sec, I’ll go refill it. I guess Riv forgot.”

I sit back. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Probably just ran out of fuel. Don’t worry, we have a backup, and a ton of charged batteries. Even if it’s broken, we’re not gonna lose power.” He heads out of the room.

I get up and drift over to the window. In the background I can hear Riv talking rapidly on the radio. Even though his voice is urgent, the sing-songy lilt of his Swedish soothes me. I lean against the windowsill and let my mind wander as I watch the storm. I’ve never seen so much snow in my life. It whirls and flurries so fast, all I can see is white, except for one little smudge of grey in the distance.

I frown, squinting through the falling flakes. There’s definitely something there. A dark shape is moving slowly towards me. As I watch, it stumbles.

Holy shit. It’s a person.

I lean even closer into the window, pressing my nose against the glass. I recognise the broad shoulders and giant, hulking silhouette.

It’s Cole.

He’s clearly struggling. He’s got something big in both of his arms, and every few steps, he pauses, doubling over. Judging by how slow he’s moving, it looks like he’s hurt.

I don’t even think. I head to the door and grab my boots and a pair of snowshoes, then bundle myself up in my winter gear. My hands fumble on the poppers of my coat. My heartbeat is rushing in my ears. I’m not moving fast enough. He’s hurt.

Eventually, I’m fully dressed. I look around the porch for something I can use to help, and my eyes catch on a sled leaning by the door. I grab it, brace myself, and open the door, heading out into the snow.

Oh my God, it is so cold. I’ve never felt cold like it. Even through my coat, I feel like I’ve just had a bucket of ice water sloshed all over my body. Snowflakes swarm against my face, stinging my skin like a hive of angry wasps. I remember too late that I probably should have put on goggles, but I don’t have time to go back and get them. I have to reach him. Mashing my eyes shut, I push forward towards his silhouette. As I get closer, I see that he’s clutching his shoulder with one hand, carrying a bundle with the other.

His eyes are wide behind his goggles when I finally reach him. I trip over the edge of my snowshoe and almost fall. His free arm shoots out to grab me, and I see the pain cross his face.

“You fucking idiot!” He roars over the wind. “What the Hell are you doing?”

“Shut up.” I tug the sled to his feet. “Put it on.”

He carefully lowers the bundle onto the sled with a grunt of pain. I grab the rope and start tugging it back towards the house. He grabs for the rope. I pull it away from him. “You’re injured.”

I guess his shoulder really must be hurting him, because he lets me drag the sled back to the house, heaving it through the thickening snow. The wind is at our backs, so it’s much easier this way. We make it to the front door, and he tries to turn the handle, but his numb hands keep slipping. I open the door for him, and we fall back into the cabin.

He starts shouting before I’ve even shut the door behind us.

“What the Hell is wrong with you?” he bellows as I pull off my gloves. “You don’t go out in a storm! Are you fucking stupid? You could’ve died!”

“I’m not the one currently dripping blood all over the floor,” I snap. “Jesus, are you okay? What happened?” I shove the sled in the corner and reach over to help unzip his coat. He’s shivering convulsively, his hands shaking.

“Stop.” He bats me off. “Don’t touch me.”

I peel off the coat and wince when I see his sweater. There’s red staining his shoulder. “Let me see. You should probably put pressure on it, or something. What happened? Did you fall?” I reach for him, and he flinches away. “Stay still. We need to see how bad it is, Cole—”

“STOP!” He steps back, grabbing the door handle. “I have to get back out there.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

His face is dark. “Visibility was too bad to drive the car to the barn. I need to cover it.”

“Are you fucking insane? You’re injured!”

“I’m fine.”

I push past him, standing in the way of the door. “Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

He shoves his goggles up onto my head. His blue eyes are burning with rage. “What the fuck makes you think you can tell me what I can’t do?”

“You’re weak, you won’t make it!” I point at the red seeping through into his jumper. I swear the stain is already bigger. “Look how much blood you’ve lost! Cole, I’m serious, it might be really bad.”

He tries to slide past me. I block his path again. “I have to get the car out of the snow,” he repeats slowly, like I’m an idiot. “Get out of my way.”

“No.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are you going to dig it out of a snowdrift tomorrow? Are you going to pay for any damage? Will you defrost the engine?”

“Sure. I’d love to. Now go sit down.” I try to push him into the living room, but he grabs me by the shoulders and shunts me to the side, hissing through his teeth as the movement jogs his arm. I watch in horror as droplets of blood spatter onto the cabin floor, but he just ignores them, pulling his goggles back down over his face.

I can’t stop him. He’s too big; I feel like a little chihuahua nipping around his ankles. His hand closes around the door handle, and I do the only thing I can think of. I run back into the lounge, raise my voice, and shout “Riven!” at the top of my lungs.