She rode each constricting peak as she rode the two men’s cocks, and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, when her orgasm had drained her, scoured her away, Rob let out a roar and came in her ass. It plunged her over another edge she didn’t know she balanced on. As she fell, Joseph called out her name and slammed into her with one final thrust, his cock pumping inside her, and she came again, calling out his name in return.
She gripped him with her sex as her heart thumped into her throat, from her body.
Lost to her forever. The property of the Australian with the caring brown eyes. The one buried to the hilt inside her.
Chapter Seven
Joseph studied the snow-covered mountainside looming over him, the sun bouncing off it in blinding sheets of golden-white light. He rubbed at the crink in the back of his neck, his warm skin almost hot against his ungloved hand. They’d all three fallen asleep on the old cot last night, squished together on the narrow space only to wake a little while later and do the whole thing over again. This time lying on the blanket and clothes-covered floor admittedly, with Rob beneath Anna claiming her pussy and Joseph claiming her from behind, filling her tight ass. Joseph was strong, but he didn’t think his arms and shoulders could take another standing-up session.
The pleasure of their coupling was just as explosive in that position, with Anna sandwiched between them. A far better, more delicious, more addictive culinary experience than vegemite sandwiches could ever hope to be.
He snorted a light chuckle and rubbed his neck again.
At some stage of the night, they’d fallen asleep again, after talking about favorite movies and food and pastimes into the wee hours of the morning, Anna’s cheek pressed against Joseph’s chest, her legs entangled with his, Rob holding her from behind, one long arm and leg draped over them all.
When Joseph had opened his eyes this morning to the pale winter sun streaming through the cabin’s windows, he’d found Anna still asleep in his arms and Rob stretched out in the plastic folding chair, head back, mouth open, his snores almost soft.
Joseph laughed again, kneading his fingers into his neck. He had a sore neck, but he bet Rob was going to wake up with one just as sore.
He let his gaze roam over the steep mountainside towering to the heavens in front of him.
Knife Ridge Chutes, Wolf Creek. The place everything in his life changed.
Well, not everything. Rob was a constant.
And now he wanted Anna to be as well.
His stomach knotted at what he was planning to do next. Jesus, for a bloke who rarely took life by the balls unless dared to by his best mate, he was grabbing a handful right now.
He shoved his hands under his armpits, the chill in his fingers beginning to get nasty. Gloves. He really needed to pull on his gloves. Otherwise he’d have a hard time feeling Anna’s beautiful body when he went back inside and woke her—
“So, big fella,” Rob’s hand—gloved, he couldn’t help but notice—slammed down on Joseph’s shoulder. “Another dare successfully accomplished. What’s next? How ’bout base jumping off the—”
“Oh no.” Joseph shook his head with a wide grin. “That’s it for me for a while. I think you’ve pretty much reached your dare-me limit for a few months.”
Rob laughed. “No such thing as dare-you limits, Hudo. Who else is going to drag you kicking and screaming into all the fun stuff?”
The question was typical Rob, and yet this time it made Joseph’s chest constrict, not with nervous anticipation—the kind felt on a rollercoaster with suspicious-looking harnesses—but a warm feeling of…
Happiness?
“I think,” he said slowly, the notion behind his words still far too new and daunting to rush, “I’m going to hang around here with Anna for a while.” He shot Rob a sideward glance. “If that’s okay with you?”
Rob cocked an eyebrow. “What? Here in the cabin? Won’t you two freeze your nuts off? Well, won’t you freeze
your
nuts off? Anna, as we both know doesn’t have nuts.” He pulled a contemplative face. “I guess she could freeze her—”
“Funny bastard, aren’t you.” Joseph gave him a shove, rolling his eyes at him. “No, here in the US.”
Rob raised both eyebrows at him this time. “Really? Mr Workaholic is thinking of staying put for a bit?”
Joseph shrugged, watching a bird—an eagle by the size of it—soar effortlessly through the sky above them. “It’s that or ask her to come back to Australia with me.”
“Just you?”
Joseph swung his stare onto his best friend. There was no challenge in Rob’s blue eyes, nor aggression in his body language. Despite the explosive passion of the last twelve hours, Joseph bore no delusions Rob had designs on Anna. For his mate, the sex had been just that—sex. Mind-blowing, amazing, unbelievable sex. For Joseph however, mind-blowing, amazing and unbelievable didn’t even cut it. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Me. I like her a lot, Rob. A lot.” He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Besides, something tells me you’ve got your own agenda.”
An unreadable expression flittered across Rob’s face before he turned his attention to the mountain. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it. Dangerous and magnificent all at once.” He studied it for a long moment and Joseph felt the knot in his gut—the one twisting there since last night when he’d laughingly told Rob he was going to die a lonely man—twist again. “We faced it together, my friend. Laughed at death in the face and came away with something wonderful.” He let out a sigh and returned his gaze to Joseph’s face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve got my own agenda.”
The knot in Joseph’s gut rolled over on itself. “And what’s that, mate?”
Rob dragged his hands over his face, and for some reason the whisper-quiet sound of neoprene acrylic scraping against his skin made Joseph’s hair stand on end. Or was it the look in Rob’s eyes. A look he’d never seen there before—regret? Sorrow?
Grief?
“Fuck, I’ve rehearsed this speech I don’t know how many times in the last week,” Rob muttered, shaking his head, “and now I have to do it, I haven’t got a bloody clue how.”
Joseph’s gut rolled again, churning into a heavy ball. “What’s going on, mate?”
“I’ve got brain cancer, Hudo,” Rob stated, the words even and hideously calm. “The doc diagnosed it last week, and the oncologist confirmed two days before I convinced you to fly out here.”
Joseph stared at his best friend, the man he’d grown up with. The man who knew him better than he knew himself. “You’ve got fucking what?”
“Brain cancer. Specifically, anaplastic astrocytoma.”
“Anaplastic astrowhat?” Joseph shook his head, the words making no sense. Especially not when attached to Rob.
“Anaplastic astrocytoma. It’s inoperable and advanced.”
Inoperable. Advanced. Joseph blinked, a weight beginning to form on his chest. Jesus, Rob said those words like he was talking about a bit of a head cold. “No,” he said. “No, you don’t.” The weight on his chest grew heavy, so heavy he could barely draw a breath. He couldn’t believe what Rob was saying. He couldn’t. Rob and cancer didn’t go together. They didn’t. “Stop being a dickhead and tell me what’s really going on.”
Rob smiled, a wry grin that made Joseph’s chest ache. “I wish I could, mate. But this is it. I suspected something was up for a while. Remember the headaches I’ve been having the last few months? You said they were from too many nights partying. I said they were from too many days working. Well, turns out they were from too many cells in my head doing both.”
Joseph shook his head again.
Rob couldn’t die. No way. Rob personified life. Death and Rob did not, just did not connect. They couldn’t. Because if they did it would mean Rob was going to die. Rob wouldn’t be around.
Joseph blinked again, a numb sensation tearing through him, making his heart cold. If Rob and death connected, it meant Rob wouldn’t be part of his life anymore. He shook his head. Not fucking possible. “No, Rob,” he snarled. “They’re wrong. The doctors are wrong.”
“They’re not, mate. It’s all good though. Think of it this way, you won’t have to clean up any of my messes with the insurance manager or human resources again.”
Rob’s jest sent a shard of anger into Joseph’s gut. “This is not the time to joke, Rob.”
Rob looked at him. “Yeah, it is, Joe. What better time? We’ve just had the best night of our lives. You’re on the verge of starting the next phase of yours. What better time to laugh at the unavoidable?” He smiled again, placing his hand back on Joseph’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Joseph. It really is. I’ve come to terms with it. Honest.”
“Well I haven’t fucking come to terms with it.” Joseph glared at him, his blood roaring in his ears, making him feel like he was about to scream. He wanted to scream. He stood motionless, driving his nails into his palms. Sucking in breath after icy breath through his nose.
Anaplastic astrocytoma. Inoperable. Advanced.
He shook his head, grinding his teeth and giving his friend a flat stare. He’d never felt more angry. Never felt more like punching the shit out of his best friend and telling him to grow up. “How can you stand here in the snow on the other side of the bloody world and tell me you’ve got cancer with a smile on your face.” He pushed at Rob’s chest, shoving him back a step. “Is this another sick dare? ‘C’mon, Hudo, I dare you to die before I do’? Jesus, Thorton, you’ve pulled some low stunts but this…” He trailed off, the sickened rage in his gut stealing his words.
Rob waited, not saying a thing. Joseph wanted to smash his fist against his jaw.
How dare he do this?
Who else would, Joseph?
“What about surgery?” he asked. “Chemo? Shit, I’ve got more money than I’ll ever know what to do with. We’ll call the best specialists, the best doctors. For Christ sake, we’re in the States, I’ll call the freaking Surgeon General. There’s got to be something you can do, we can do—”
Rob shook his head, his grin growing lopsided. “It’s inoperable, Hudo. That means they found it too late. Besides, do you seriously think I’m going to let some bloke who probably drives around in a Porsche and drinks lattes cut into my head? And I look atrocious bald. Remember the time we both shaved our heads the day before senior photos?” He laughed. “Damn, my girlfriend—what was her name? Alice? Ally? Amy?”
“Andy,” Joseph murmured, the world buzzing. Cancer. Jesus, cancer.
“Andy!” Rob slapped him on the chest, grin stretching wide again. “Damn, she gave good head. Andy wouldn’t speak to me for a week.”
Joseph felt the knot in his stomach clench, even as the memory of Andy Tellerman’s incensed fury at Rob’s new do drew a shaking laugh from his shocked disbelief. She’d ranted and raved and carried on as if Rob had cut off
her
hair, growing more enraged when Rob wouldn’t say sorry. Or wear a hat until his hair grew back.
Joseph frowned at his friend, refusing to let the warm memory temper his stunned anger. Not yet. It was still too raw to let Rob fool him into laughing.
He’s never going to fool you into laughing again, Joseph. Not anymore.
The devastating thought sank into his anger.
Never again.
His eyes stung with prickling heat and he blinked, turning his head away from the sight of his best friend.
He didn’t want to talk to him.
“Hudo?”
Joseph squeezed his eyes shut, denying the stinging pressure behind them. He swallowed, the thick lump in his throat almost suffocating him.
Rob remained silent for a long moment, letting the reality of his news sink it.
Joseph didn’t want it to sink it, damn it. He drove his nails harder into his palms, waiting for the pain of his nails in his flesh to register in his brain. It didn’t. All he felt was the pain in his heart. He sucked in a shuddering breath, his chest not just aching but burning.
Oh, fuck, Rob. No…
A sob escaped him, ripped from the center of his soul and he scrunched up his face. He’d only cried once in his adult life—when the Sydney Swans beat the West Coast Eagles in the 2005 AFL Grand Final—and he sure as shit wasn’t going to cry now over Rob’s revelation. He wasn’t.
Yeah, sure. That’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it? Not crying. That wet stuff on your cheeks is you not crying.
“It’s okay, Joe,” Rob placed his hand high on Joseph’s back and Joseph swiped at his face, his stomach churning at the hot moisture scalding his skin. “And it’ll be okay. Honest.”
“How will it be okay?” he muttered.
“It just will be.” Rob’s answer, spoken with such acceptance, ripped another sob from Joseph’s chest. “It’s gotta be, right?”
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Rob chuckled. “Because I knew this is how you’d react, trying to fix something that can’t be fixed.” He shook his head. “No. I wanted my last few days spent doing what I’ve always wanted to do, what I’ve always loved doing.”
“Snowboarding down a bloody mountain?” Joseph knew he was being irrational, but he didn’t care. Cancer. Fucking brain cancer. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
Rob laughed, the sound rising above them, its undeniable happiness clear in the pristine air. “No,” he said, giving Joseph’s shoulder a thump with his fist. “Pushing you to live.”
Joseph glared at him. “I live.”
“Yeah, when I dare you to. Otherwise you’d spend every day in that office of yours. Remember what my dad used to always say? We should work to live, not live to work? If I’d let you, you’d have lived to work my friend. But I’ve lived more with you than I ever would have by myself.” Rob grinned at him. “You know that, don’t you? And now it’s time for me to finish off that life.”
Joseph shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
“Ah, Hudo.” Rob squeezed his shoulder, the cheeky grin on his face belayed by the sadness in his eyes. “This is why I love you, mate. You’re a bloody stubborn pain in the arse.” He paused, his smile faltering for a second before returning wider and far more…Robbish…than ever. “I’m going to live more in my last few weeks than anyone else could live in a lifetime.” He flicked the cabin a sideward glance. “Well, anyone apart from you. Something tells me Ranger McCarthy’s going to help you live your life the way it was meant to be lived. Keep giving you those kicks up the backside you usually get from me.”