The Doctor’s Truth: Part 2: Chapter 35

There’s relief as soon as we step outside—a cold burst of air that feels like a kiss against my skin. The heat and sound of the Anchor were all at once suffocating…

But this. This feels nice.

The Anchor is tucked away on the edge of the cliff, within walking distance of the Lighthouse Medical Center. I can see the glow of the building through the pine trees.

I can still hear the clamor of noise inside, but it’s muffled now. More importantly, I can hear the sound of the surf. When I glance up, the sky is so inky black, it sucks my breath away. It’s covered in stars—a winter spread, the Big Bear hanging low in the sky. He won’t climb back up across the hemisphere until summer again.

Will I be here to see him make his trek? The future seems like sand between my fingers, so impossible to grasp…but right now, I’m okay with that.

Everything is changing. The year. My son. Me. But it feels manageable…so long as I have these two men beside me.

Maybe I don’t know what’s coming. But I know that I feel stronger here. Drinking in the night sky with Jason and Donovan.

Inside, I can hear them start the countdown. A couple of smokers outside pick it up.

“Three…two…one!”

Jason’s arms gently slip around my middle. This time, I don’t pull away.

Instead, I lean into it. I twist my body around, rise to the tips of my toes, and connect my lips with his.

We enter 2019 with a soft, sweet kiss. He tastes like tequila, and my thumping heartbeat, and Jason.

Out of the corner of my eye, a shuffle of movement beside us. Donovan—the lone wolf—kisses no one when the ball drops.

Jason and I apparently have the same thought at the same time—that won’t do.

“C’mere, buddy—” Jason suddenly grabs Donovan by the front of his shirt and yanks him in for a kiss.

I see the surprise on Donovan’s face, and his body goes rigid, but he doesn’t pull away either.

When Jason releases him, I slip my hands on either side of his face. “My turn.”

“Happy New Year,” he says.

“Happy New Year.”

It’s supposed to be simple. Playful. A small peck on the mouth.

But when my lips meet his…

Fireworks go off in my stomach.

His kiss is warm. He smells like leather. When he exhales, I feel his breath patter against my cheek.

“Hey, check it out,” Jason says.

Donovan and I break apart. Fireworks—real fireworks—are exploding over the water. I was so lost in Donovan’s kiss, I didn’t even notice.

It’s impressive, huge sparks of light and color exploding across the sky, the reflection scattering across the dark sea.

But I’m having trouble concentrating. My heart is pitter-pattering in my chest. I’m acutely aware of Donovan’s body right behind me. Even over the booming and cheering, I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. I can hear the lightness in his breath.

Jason’s bare arm brushes against mine. I can feel the light tickle of his arm hair, like there’s electric static between us.

No one says anything for a second…we lapse into silence as the fireworks boom. But the arousal is so thick in the air, it practically has its own scent. A sharpness, like red wine.

“Should we go somewhere?” Donovan asks us. “Somewhere private.”

The promise in his words makes my heart thud and my cunt clench.

“Yeah…” Jason says. “I’d be into that.”

His voice is thick. He wants this, too. Just as badly as I do.

My eyes travel across the horizon. The lighthouse is silhouetted behind bursts of blue and yellow lights. “I bet the view is beautiful up there,” I muse.

“Only one way to find out.” Jason tilts his head. “C’mon.”

“What?” Astounded, because he can’t be serious…but his long legs take him fast, and he’s already steps ahead of us. Donovan and I follow after him, and I repeat, “Jason, what?”

Donovan and I wait outside while Jason talks with the lighthouse keeper.

He’s this grizzled, old man who looks positively dwarfed next to Jason. But he nods as he listens, and then the two shake hands.

“What do you think they’re saying?” I ask.

“Twenty minutes at the top for a blowjob?” Donovan guesses, and I elbow him in the side.

Jason comes bounding back to us, all grins. “Check it out.” He dangles a pair of rusted keys that look like they might’ve unlocked a pirate’s treasure chest in a past life.

“Jason.” I gawk. “How…?”

“Rule number one of being friends with Jason,” Donovan says, “never ask how.”

“I can’t help that people like me,” Jason said. “Also that I’m beautiful.”

“Told you,” Donovan says, and I stifle a laugh.

Jason cocks his head. “Told her what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I slip my hands over his chest and nuzzle in. His nose feels cold against mine. “Are you going to show us inside or what?”

He grins. “Right this way, m’lady.”

He leads us to the lighthouse and opens the rounded door. The walls are blue stone, and when we go inside, it’s not much warmer than outside. Probably something to do with the fact that there’s no ceiling—just a winding staircase that goes around and around until it gets to the top. There are lanterns on the walls, which gives the place a golden glow, and they illuminate old maps of Hannsett Island and mounted descriptions of the history and inner mechanics of the lighthouse.

“No chance they installed an elevator?” Donovan asks, sizing up the winding staircase.

“Last one to the top is a muskrat,” Jason says and launches toward the stairs.

We dash up, my heels clicking, their shoes slapping. The staircase is narrow, old, and I grip the railing and try to avoid the vertigo of all the turns. Finally, we get up to a landing, and Jason uses the key to unlock a door. It takes us outside again, this time onto a small platform. I know I shouldn’t, but I lean over the iron railing and look down—we’re four, maybe five stories up, but it feels taller since I can see past the snow-coated ground, down the cliff, where the waves churn below.

The railing is so cold, it hurts to touch it, but the thought of plummeting down makes me grip it hard.

“Right behind you,” Donovan says, as though he can smell my fear. His hand touches my side, and the solidness of his touch relaxes me enough to keep moving forward.

It’s a small climb into the glass cavern of the overlook. Jason takes my hand to help me step up. It feels like being in a fishbowl. Curved windows line the walls, giving a panoramic view of Hannsett Island. I’m sure it looks beautiful in the daytime, but at night it’s mostly just dark—save the ever-glowing hum of the medical center, the green and red lights blinking in the water, and the burst and explosion of color that fills the sky every couple of minutes.

In the middle sits the eye of the lighthouse—the giant lantern. For something so old, it looks almost futuristic; it has panels of glass, one layered over the other, like ripples receding from the center. The light itself isn’t lit, but there are tiny floodlights that surround it, and crystal shards of light bounce off the lantern, scattering rainbows across the floors and ceiling.

“Looks like you were right,” Jason tells me. “It’s way cooler up here.”

“It really is beautiful,” I agree.

For a second, the three of us just stand there, watching the explosion of lights. The reflection of the fireworks lights up their faces—Jason, grinning, as happy as a kid at a candy store. Donovan, quiet, contented.

I want to hold on to this moment forever.

“There is one more thing…” Jason says.

“How can there be more?”

He moves behind the lantern and pulls at a latch on the floor. A hatch opens up, and then Jason vanishes down it.

“Come on!”

I glance at Donovan, but he shrugs, as clueless as I am.

I follow Jason down the staircase and gasp when I see what’s underneath. “You’ve got to be kidding me—”

Down the spiral staircase is a suite. Wooden cabinets, a king-sized bed, velvet red carpet on the floors. A mermaid sculpture hangs above the bed, her red hair wild and untamed. On the bed: plush pillows, a quilt, and a purple stuffed whale. Although the lighthouse itself is old, this room has clearly been renovated sometime in the past five years. It’s even warm in here, and I can finally take down my hood.

“Is this for us?” I ask.

“We’ve got it all night,” Jason says, then adds, “If you want it.”

There’s an octagonal window that’s nearly as tall as I am. Outside, a firework sizzles out, dripping like a chandelier, and the reflection cascades across the flat, dark water.

“Is this a big, dramatic ploy to get me to forgive you?” I ask.

“No,” Jason says. “This is a big, dramatic ploy to get you to sleep with me.”

That sends a shiver through me. His lips connect with my throat. I feel the heat of his mouth, and I melt into his kiss as his arms wind around me so he can simultaneously unbutton my coat. It falls away, and I press my palms flat against the glass in front of me.

A familiar pair of fingers loops through mine, pinning me down. Donovan’s leather band kisses my wrist. Excitement whips through me and I squeeze his fingers tighter, keeping him to me.

“I need you,” I whisper, my voice raspy with want. “Both of you.”

“You’ve got us,” Donovan’s voice growls in my other ear, and I shudder.

There are hands, undressing me. Lips, caressing my skin. I feel a hand on my throat, holding me in place, and it constricts my airflow just a little. I reach up and grab the wrist—I feel the leather band there. My dress puddles down at my feet, and I’m exposed, naked in front of the New Year’s fireworks. Fingers roll over my nipples, pinching, and I gasp as each squeeze sends another jolt of lust straight between my legs.

“How badly do you want us?” Jason murmurs—the angel on my left.

I can’t answer—my throat is too tight. A hand slips between my thighs, over my panties, and even here I can feel him coaxing my nether lips apart. I know I must be soaking straight through the thin cotton because Donovan (my devil to my right) gives a low, pleased hum. “Ah. That badly.”

When those bold fingers slip underneath my panties and glide along the sensitive skin there, I sink forward, my body flattening against the cold glass. I moan, pushing my hips forward against the hand, feeling the heat of both their bodies behind me.

They’ve only barely started touching me, and already, I’m tremblingly close to an orgasm.

Those clever fingers start to rapidly flick my clit, and I cry out. I reach down, grabbing Donovan’s arm, stopping him. “Please,” I beg. “I don’t want to cum…not yet.”

His fingers retreat, slipping out of my panties again. I whimper when they leave. My sex is throbbing.

“C’mere—” That’s Jason’s voice, and he guides me to turn around, pressed against his chest. He lifts me suddenly, and I wrap my legs around his hips. I kiss him deeply, swooning, and he carries me as if I weigh nothing, my rear cradled in his hands. He carries me to the bed and unwinds my limbs from him gently so he can take off my pants.

My boys are undone—Donovan’s shirt unbuttoned, hanging loose, and I rip Jason’s shirt from him as he unbuckles his belt. He pushes his pants and briefs from his hips, freeing his cock, and my throat goes tight with need. It’s rock hard, blushing red and ready for me.

As if he can see the feverish want in my eyes, he grins at me. “You want me inside you, baby?”

“I need you inside me,” I correct.

“Say please, Trouble.”

“Please, Trouble.”

He chuckles and covers my mouth with his. His tongue swipes against mine. I feel him nestle between my legs, and then, all at once, he’s inside of me.

I moan loudly, feeling cracked open. I hug my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper until he’s in me to the hilt. I feel solid warmth at my back, and I relax into Donovan’s embrace. He sucks my neck, nibbles my ear. I run my hand up his thigh, settling into his lap. I can feel the hardness of him.

“You’re doing good, Kenzi,” he whispers to me. They’ve traded roles now—Donovan, murmuring sweetly into my ear as Jason fucks me hard, deep. Dots of pleasure explode behind my eyelids with every thrust, and I drop my head back against Donovan’s shoulder and let out loud, desperate whimpers. Just when I think I can’t possibly handle any more, I feel Donovan’s hand run down my tummy, the roughness of his bracelet brushing my skin. His fingers climb down my pelvis, between my legs, and he finds that little bundle of nerves, drumming it underneath his fingertips.

I shout. I rip into Jason’s back. I’m sure I leave marks. Jason growls against me—the three of us sliding together, one unit—and I feel him losing control—

A bolt of fear slices through me suddenly, like lightning.

Jason. No condom. Bad things happen when we have sex.

“Don’t cum in me,” I beg Jason. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he says breathlessly. “I promise.”

And I must trust him—I must really trust him—because I let myself go. I lock my legs around his hips and rut forward, riding him, humping Donovan’s hand. Sweat drips down my tits and my hair sticks to my back, but I’m so close to that perfect precipice…

My orgasm nearly blinds me.

I arch into Donovan’s fingers and explode around Jason’s cock. They caress me and kiss me as I writhe through waves of pleasure.

Here, in our little bubble, I’m free to be selfish. I’m free to want. It’s exhilarating.

I spend myself until I have nothing left to give, until I’m whimpering and the flick of Donovan’s fingers feels painful. I grip his wrist, and he slows his touch before stilling completely.

“Oh my God…” I murmur, completely blissed-out.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Jason murmurs and licks sweat from the base of my throat.

I feel the heat of him, the hardness of him. Throbbing inside. But true to his word, he doesn’t cum in me.

Instead, he says, “I’m going to pull out, okay?”

“Okay…”

He shifts between us, and when he leaves my body, I feel tremendously empty.

I grab the back of his head and dive my tongue into his mouth. He sighs against me. When I release him, Jason latches onto Donovan, as though he’s a scuba diver and we’re his only source of oxygen.

He kisses Donovan…and kisses Donovan. They fall together and don’t stop kissing. The way they kiss is messy and swoony and makes my cunt clench.

When Jason finally releases Donovan, their lips are plump and they’re short of breath.

“If you want to get inside,” Donovan says, “you’re going to have to get me something.”

“Like…a nice watch?”

Donovan gives Jason a look like he’s lost his mind. “No. Idiot. Lube.”

“Right. On it.”

Jason gets up and goes into the bathroom. He hunts around for only a moment before he comes out with a jar of Vaseline between his fingers. “Found this in the first aid kit.”

“That’ll do.”

I lie back on the stuffed pillows. I feel boneless, and spent, but my blood hums as I watch Donovan and Jason learn each other.

Jason breaks apart to pull Donovan’s pants from him. I can’t help it—my lips go dry at the sight of Donovan’s naked body. He’s sleek, toned, and the rings around his necklace look messy across his chest. Jason seems to admire it, too, because he slides his hand down the front of Donovan’s body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Jason says. He’s genuine, too; I don’t think he even notices how often these little notes of affection fall from his lips.

Donovan shifts underneath Jason. “I’m ready.”

Jason pops the top of the Vaseline jar and sets it to the side. He scoops a dollop out and slips his hand between Donovan’s legs.

“How’s that?”

A light laugh from Donovan.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” he says. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Okay…”

When Jason fits himself inside of Donovan, Donovan moans, and the sound pulls a throb from between my legs.

“God, you feel good,” Jason murmurs.

“Less talking,” Donovan grunts, his eyebrows knitting, “more of what you’re doing with your hips.”

Their bodies rock together, moaning, sweating. I have to touch them, so I do; I slip my fingers through Donovan’s hair. He leans into my touch, so I run my hand down, slipping it down his chest, his abdomen.

I graze the curly hair between his legs.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

“Very,” he pants.

I shift my body and tuck in beside his. I run my fingertips up the length of his cock. He’s so hard, but his skin is silky soft. I trace the veins of him and then finally take him fully in my hand. His breath catches at that, and I stroke him, slowly, listening closely to the spots that make him moan and pant a little quicker.

I love peeling this man apart. Discovering the hidden parts of him. And he’s unraveling now, under my hand and Jason’s thrusts. Donovan braces himself, one hand on Jason’s chest, the other on my arm. His grip tightens and he pivots against us, conducting the pace and rhythm of his own pleasure.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Donovan hisses between his teeth, eyes closed tightly.

“I won’t,” Jason says—that same, breathless promise he gave me. Jason’s body is a powerful, sculpted tool, and he wields it to pleasure Donovan and me first before hunting for his own release.

I feel Donovan twitch in my hand, and he snarls through a curse as he explodes.

It looks like pearls strung across his sculpted abdomen, and I find myself drawn to it. I bend down and trace my tongue along his taut skin, licking up the sticky mess he left. His muscles twitch and vibrate as I slide my tongue over him, making sure to clear every drop.

But I’m not satisfied. I want more, so I take him in my mouth. Donovan curses, and his hips buck once with surprise. I suck on him, savoring every ridge and vein. He’s so sensitive that I don’t have to wait long before I get what I want; he’s like salt water in my mouth, and I swallow him, all of him.

Even a woman as greedy as me has to stop eventually. I remove him from my mouth with a pop and settle down beside him.

“Fuck,” Jason says as he settles onto the opposite side of Donovan. Then he repeats, “Fuck. Am I imagining things, or are the three of us really good at that?”

“You’re not imagining it,” Donovan confirms.

“Insanely good,” I agree.

“What happened to the fireworks?” Jason asks.

“What fireworks?” Donovan counters, and the three of us laugh.

I’m not conscious of falling asleep. But I open my eyes, and suddenly, it’s dawn.

Through the wide window, I can see tendrils of neon pink and orange stretching across the sky.

It’s a new year, and already things are looking up.

The three of us are naked, tangled up in bed. Donovan is tucked in the middle, and the whale plushy has somehow made it into Jason’s arms.

They’re both deep asleep, but I’m suddenly wired.

Our clothes are scattered across the whole room. I don’t bother trying to scavenger hunt for my dress, but I do slip on a pair of panties and Jason’s jacket. It swallows me, practically dress-size on me anyway.

I climb the steps and quietly open the hatch so I can slip out. The view from the top is magnificent in the morning. I can see the horizon now. As the sun comes up, it illuminates the water, sparkling across the light swells. It’s cold up here, bitterly cold, but I don’t want to look away, so I linger.

“Mind if I join you?”

I glance over my shoulder. Donovan peeks out from the hatch, his leather jacket over his bare shoulders, pants pulled back around his hips.

I scoot. “I could use the body heat.”

He sits down on the floor beside me. He opens up his jacket, and I crawl up against him. For a minute, it’s just me, Donovan, and the sunrise.

“I know you wanted to keep things platonic,” I tell him. “I’m sorry if tonight complicated things.”

Donovan shrugs. “We could never be just friends.”

I don’t know if the we he’s referring to is Donovan and me, or Donovan and Jason. I don’t ask for clarity.

I feel his dark eyes on me. “How do you feel?”

What a loaded question. On one hand—relief. My chest is a cracked eggshell, yolk spilling out bright and yellow. I feel right here.

On the other hand—the secret I’m keeping from Jason feels like a bag of stones tied to my ankles and tossed into the deepest part of the ocean.

“It’s complicated,” I answer.

Donovan nods, as though he knows every nuance in the word complicated. And maybe he does. If there’s anyone who understands me, it’s him. “At least it’s a beautiful view for your existential crises.”

I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Tell me I’m a good person. Please. Even if it’s not true. Just…I need to hear it.”

He scoffs at that. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

“But—”

“If you were an angel,” he says, his tone suddenly firm, “I wouldn’t like you so damn much.” He looks me in the eyes. “Screw good. You, Kenzi, are my favorite person. Because of everything that you are. The good, the bad, and everything in between. You’re perfect to me.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

His breath crystalizes. Words unsaid trail between us like white ghosts in the early morning sky.

“I’m freezing,” I say, which is true. I can’t feel my toes.

“Christ. Of course.” There’s an urgency about him all of a sudden.

He gets me up, and we go back downstairs, closing the hatch behind us and sealing in the heat. I let the jacket fall to the floor and climb back into bed. I didn’t realize how cold I actually was, but now I can’t stop shivering.

Jason, still half-asleep, drops the whale and rolls around to wrap me in his arms instead. “You’re ice-cold,” he mutters.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Put your feet in my legs.”

I nudge my cold feet between his calves. Donovan takes off his clothes and gets into bed behind me and wraps his arms around me, his skin furnace hot. Slowly, I start to thaw.

Maybe this year will be okay, after all.