But it hadn’t been the last. For the past forty-eight hours, I’d been fucked in more ways than I could count, each more delicious than the last. Maybe Dash and Jackson had been just as unwilling as I was to talk about my upcoming departure because we’d managed to avoid the topic completely.
Right up until this morning when they’d dropped me off at my parents’ house. I’d had a very uncomfortable farewell breakfast with them before they headed to work, but after the incident at the reception and the fact that I’d spent the time since with Jackson and Dash, it was to be expected. After they left, I went to my childhood bedroom to pack. I left the ugly bridesmaid dress hanging on the back of my door. I didn’t need that in Brazil. Or anywhere. Although, I would never look at sea foam green satin the same way again.
Jackson and Dash had offered to come over and keep me company while I packed, but I’d turned them down. Leaving would be hard enough, thanks to them. Lingering over it would kill me.
I refused to cry over the fact that I was leaving Bridgewater. It was who I was. This was what I did. Leave.
And my guys understood that. They hadn’t pressured me to give them a date when I’d return. They’d just given me a long night of multiple orgasms and dropped me off without making a scene.
We’ll always give you what you need.
Jackson had been so right. They’d given me the release I’d needed at the wedding, and since that night they’d given me the mindless lovemaking that I’d needed to end this trip on a high note. And a wonderfully sore pussy—and ass.
And in return, they didn’t make any demands—besides getting on my knees before them to suck them off or to bend over the bed to take another plug—or push me to make a commitment I wasn’t ready for. They were almost too good to be true.
But all that had been about sex. Yeah, they had huge cocks and knew how to use them. To say they’d ruined me for all other men was probably true. But their ruining me wasn’t because of sex alone. No, they were just great guys. Nice. Funny. Smart. So much more. The list of adjectives was endless. The way they were with Jackson’s family showed me they respected each other. They didn’t use or taunt or bicker just to make others miserable. They’d shown me my parents were not the norm. Hell, they were so damned abnormal.
I was going to miss everything about Dash and Jackson. God, I was going to miss fucking those guys. And cuddling with them. And making them laugh. And being pampered by them. Hearing the stories of their patients, whether it be an albino horse or a ferret. I hadn’t even left and my chest ached. I hurt right around my heart.
I sighed as I tossed another t-shirt into the bag. Okay, it was time to face it. I was going to miss them, period.
But I’d come back. I just hadn’t been able to tell them when. They hadn’t asked for any sort of commitment. It was a conversation we could have another day…like the next time I was back in Bridgewater.
My flight left in a few hours for Atlanta and then on to Rio. Once there, I’d be off the grid as I researched the indigenous people in the Amazon. I hadn’t bothered to buy a return flig
ht since there was no telling how long my gig would last.
Travel accommodations tended to be unreliable in the Amazon.
I thought back to the way I’d woken up this morning, cuddled between the two of them, feeling safer and more adored than I’d ever thought possible.
A girl could get used to that. I wanted that. With them.
So yeah, I knew I wanted it, but for how long? Was I really ready to say I wanted forever with them? What would that even mean? Living with them between assignments and calling from the road? Somehow, I couldn’t see that working in the long run. Could Dash and Jackson really be happy with me flitting off to a different continent every other week? They said they’d deal with it, but I wouldn’t want to trap them in a situation where they were miserable. They deserved a woman who could be there for them. They deserved a woman in their bed every night. Someone who doted on them as much as they did her.
They were Bridgewater men, they didn’t do casual. They were intense and so damn certain about their feelings. About me. Us.
They deserved the same from the woman they ended up with.
I zipped my bag and tried not to dwell on the uncomfortable hollow feeling that settled in my gut. I was running away.
No. I was doing my job.
I was running away because it was just a job.
My cell phone rang, interrupting the internal battle that had been making me crazy all morning. Aunt Louise, probably calling to say goodbye. Now she could be counted on to give me the guilt trip that Dash and Jackson had not.
“Hi, Aunt Louise,” I said.
“Oh, Avery honey, I’m glad I caught you in time.” Her voice sounded strained and I stopped packing my belongings.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Fine, fine,” she said, but she sounded distracted. Then she made a hissing sound and the phone grew muffled. “Oh, it’s my chest,” I heard her say. “It feels tight. I think…it might be…my heart.”
Panic set in. My own heart leapt into my throat as I ran out of my room and down the hall. “Oh my God, should I call 9-1-1?”
Her voice was frighteningly faint. “Just tell Bev. She knows what to do.”