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Open to the Possibilities

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Wyatt would never get used to having Flynn on the team. Three months of this and he was still checking his back after each mission for the bullet or knife he expected to be lodged in his spine. Christopher could call it necessary all she pleased – he still hated it. He still hated Flynn.

Even worse, he’d almost been benched. Until Rufus had managed to come up with a patch for the lifeboat software so that none of them ended up with seizures like Jiya was still experiencing, it was looking like he would be the one to be left behind on missions Flynn was sent on.

It pissed him off that Lucy hadn’t fought that information as hard as he’d expected. She hadn’t fought it at all. A brief exclamation of what?! Before Christopher had justified her decision. And Lucy had been strangely quiet after that.

Yeah, that had pissed him off. A lot.

Fuck. Thank God for Rufus’s brain.

It took Wyatt all of two missions to see why Lucy hadn’t fought it. He hated to admit it, but she and Flynn worked well together. Like they’d done it before – or would do it in the future? They had an easy synchronicity that they found without hesitation. And maybe she didn’t fully trust Flynn, but she didn’t hate him (Lucy didn’t hate anyone), and by their second mission Wyatt saw it for what it really was – an attraction.

And it went both ways.

And that pissed him off too.

This was mission number fourteen with Flynn. Wyatt knew. He’d been counting. It exceeded the number of missions they’d spent going after Flynn’s ass. Now his ass was walking up ahead of him, his hip, his arm, dangerously close to Lucy’s, almost brushing hers. Rufus led the way, back to the lifeboat, and he was stuck at the back, having to watch Flynn edge closer to someone he was attracted to.

Fucking bastard.

“Rufus,” Flynn said suddenly, catching everyone’s attention. “What’s the rush?”

Rufus stopped and turned. “To get back?”

"Yes.”

Rufus frowned. “Well, Emma’s returned to the present, so there’s no need to stay here,” he said plainly.

“But what if we did?”

Wyatt clenched his fists at his sides. “Our orders,” he said slowly, “are to return once Emma returns.”

“But,” Flynn said, turning to Wyatt, “perhaps we’re quite a distance from the lifeboat. Would an extra hour here hurt anyone?”

“Why do you want to stay so bad?” Wyatt asked, his eyes flicking to Rufus and Lucy to see their reactions to Flynn. Rufus looked surprised, uneasy by the request, but Lucy looked intrigued.

“When was the last time any of you just stopped for an hour and looked around? Had a vacation?"

His tone was so measured that Wyatt wanted to punch the calm right out of him. “We’re not—“

“Would it be so bad?” Lucy asked, interrupting Wyatt. “I mean, it’s just an hour. To stop and sit, on 18th century grass, looking up at a 1700s sky. I think that would be nice.”

“I suppose,” Rufus said, coming to stand beside Lucy, “it wouldn’t be that bad. One hour?” At Lucy’s nod, he added, “I say we do it.”

“I think this is a mistake,” Wyatt told them, fists still tight at his sides, his short nails almost drawing blood from his palms.

“Lucy, fearless leader, you say we stay?” Flynn asked her.

“One hour,” she agreed. She looked at Wyatt. “It’ll be okay, Wyatt. We won’t stay a second longer than an hour. You have my word.”

He hated this, but he also hated denying the historian a chance to revel in the past for once, instead of being dragged through it and hurried out of it.

“One whiff of trouble and we’re out of here.”

“Deal,” Lucy said. “All right, Flynn, you get your way. Just this once.”

At Flynn’s smug smirk Wyatt suddenly had a feeling the man would be getting his way a whole lot more. And he didn’t want to think about exactly what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like it.

 


 

 

They split up. Rufus went back to the lifeboat, to run some tests, check a few systems, the things he rarely had a chance to do back at Mason's. They had engineers for that, but the lifeboat was his baby, and there was a giddiness about him at the realization he could spend a little time on her.

Her. Boy, he was glad Rufus had Jiya. Otherwise he’d be worried. 

Lucy and Flynn wandered off into the trees, to explore the surrounding area, find a good patch of grass, and just sit for a while.

Just sit. God, he prayed that was all.

He didn’t like the idea of Lucy going off alone with Flynn. He didn’t trust Flynn to have her back. Didn’t trust him to have any of their backs. Unless he was shooting at them. So he waited a little while, and then with stealth he had mastered in Syria, he slinked through the trees, in the direction they had gone.

They wouldn’t be on the path. He knew this. Flynn would have taken her off into the trees, because he was shady like that. Because he wanted time alone with her, without eyes or ears. Not that he expected Flynn to make any kind of move on Lucy out here. But he wondered if he was trying to recruit her, take her away from them, from him and Rufus, into his own little side team. He wondered if Jiya was on his list as pilot. A second team.  Wyatt had been wondering this for a while, and sitting Lucy down somewhere quiet, pleading his case to her in the past, seemed like Flynn’s style.

So, he followed them, because damned if he was going to lose Lucy.

Damned if he was going to lose at all.

He heard her muffled gasp before he saw them. Drawing his weapon from its concealed holster, he moved with purpose through the trees, using their thick trunks to shield himself, ready to put a bullet straight through Flynn’s brain.
Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down, preferring to surprise the bastard. If he was hurting her he’d never know what hit him.

He ducked behind another tree, peered around it, and oh—

Not hurting her.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Her ridiculous dress was hitched up around her waist, her back to a tree trunk, a leg slung around his hips; Flynn’s pants were around his ankles, his hands gripping the material at her waist while he thrust into her with long, deep strokes.

Wyatt swallowed thickly at the sight before him. Her gasps of pleasure, Flynn’s grunts, met his ears, and he holstered his weapon with a shaking hand.

He’d lost her. He’d fucking lost her. Before he’d even had a chance to have her. He didn’t want to know how long this had been going on, but he suspected since the night after their first mission. The easy rhythm the two had made a lot more sense now.

The bastard paused, whispered something to Lucy. She let out a little surprised gasp, and then whispered something back. And Wyatt couldn’t stop watching them. He needed to leave. He needed to turn and walk the hell away, instead of standing there watching Lucy kiss Flynn with everything she had.

“You going to stand there and watch all day, Logan, or are you going to join us.”

Fuck.

He glared at Flynn who was now watching him, and he kept his eyes on the man’s, trying not to think about the fact he was still deep inside Lucy. Lucy’s head turned too, until her cheek was pressed to Flynn’s, and she met his eyes with an intensity he’d never seen from her before.

“In your dreams,” he growled at Flynn.

“Oh, I’d say Lucy’s dreams too.”

“It’s been suggested,” she said, her voice breathy. “Didn’t know how to ask you without scaring you off.”

Wyatt shook his head. This wasn’t happening. The woman he thought he was maybe falling in love with, and a man he hated beyond words, were not inviting him over for a threesome. They just weren’t. That kind of thing didn’t happen in reality. “You’re fucking with me,” he told them.

“I would never,” Lucy said, pushing Flynn away from her, until their connection ceased, and she dropped her leg and straightened her dress and stepped closer to Wyatt. “If it isn’t your thing, if you’re not interested, we won’t push it. We’ll never mention it again. But…” she said as she stopped in front of him. “I was hoping you might say yes.”

She reached up a hand to his cheek, cupping it with her palm, and he leaned into her touch. “I’d rather just you,” he admitted softly. He could smell her musky scent, her arousal, her need, and beyond that, another scent. Flynn’s.

“That’s not what I’m offering,” she whispered. She leaned closer, her breath dancing across his lips, until he gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, and she kissed him.

His lips parted and he allowed her tongue into his mouth, and he could taste it all, everything she and Flynn had done before he had interrupted them. Her musk, from Flynn fucking her with his tongue and then kissing her after, and the salty taste of Flynn himself, all mingling on her tongue.

He wanted to hate it.

He didn’t.

His palms followed the curve of her hips, her waist so slight his large hands almost completely encompassed her. Bringing her body closer to his, he couldn’t suppress the groan as she jutted her pelvis forward, rubbing against his already painfully hard erection.

There was a lot he didn’t know about Lucy. A lot he was learning now. Like what a fan she was of tongue, and the fact she had just licked his lips as she shifted her position from one side of his mouth to the other. He struggled to keep up with her frenzied kisses, still shocked by the sudden turn of events.

“Lucy?” he asked when she broke for air, allowing him to catch up. “Are you sure?” He let his gaze wander over her shoulder, to here Flynn stood, hand on his goddamn dick, stroking himself, not giving a single fuck he’d been caught.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” she replied, breathless and wanton.

Her face was flushed, her hair mussed, her lips damp from his, and Christ he was a goner. But Flynn…

“He won’t touch you if you don’t want him to,” she promised having followed his gaze.

Flynn’s hand squeezed around his own dick and he shrugged. “I can keep my hands solely on Lucy.” A wry laugh escaped his lips. “And myself.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” Wyatt all but growled.

“Hey,” Lucy said gently, coaxing his attention back on to her. Her hand cupped his cheek and she gave him a soft smile. “This isn’t how I imagined this would happen, but we’re here now, and Flynn can respect your need for space. I just…” She shrugged and bit her lower lip. “I want you. Both of you.”

Her hips wiggled against his cock and he bit back a groan. “Shit, Lucy,” he ground out. “Okay. But if he so much as—”

“You’ve made yourself clear, Logan,” Flynn said, cutting him off.

Lucy nuzzled her nose into his short hair as she leaned in and whispered, “You can stop it at any time,” into his ear. She moved back and met his eyes. “I promise.”

It was then that her small hand slipped down between them. Her finger traced the opening of his pants, the crisscross lacing at the fly, and found the knot. With a deft touch, she undid the knot, and loosened his pants enough so that she could ease them down. He didn’t speak. He could hardly breathe. All he could do was swallow thickly and close his eyes when her skin met his. His pants down, his cock free, she dropped to her knees without a word, curled her hand around the base of his erection, and slid her lips past the head. His legs shook at the feeling of her warm, wet mouth sliding up and down his cock, at the gentle twist of her wrist where she held him. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to accidentally meet Flynn’s gaze, not wanting to see the man stroking himself while Lucy’s mouth worked him. When her tongue snaked a serpentine path along the underside of his dick, Wyatt shuddered and slid his hands into her hair, guiding her mouth away from him with as little force as he could manage.

“Stop. Or I won’t be able to.”

She smiled up at him with wet lips and reached for his hand, tugging him down. “This is easier if you’re on your back.”

Before his knees could buckle, Wyatt did as commanded. “You’ve done this before.”

Lucy grinned. “You think all I did in college was study?”

Once on his back, she wasted in no time in hitching her skirt up and straddling him. “You can touch me,” she promised, taking his hand in hers and guiding it down between her legs.

Another painful wave of arousal shot through him when his finger met her slick clit. As he drew broken circles around her engorged bundle of nerves, she gripped his hard length with her hand, rose up, shifted, and sank down, releasing a long sigh as she was filled by him.

Wyatt swore under his breath at the feeling of being encased by her. Her hips rolled, her pelvis swept against his, and then she leaned forward until her body was flush with his and she buried her face in the hollow of his clavicle.

As distracted as he was by Lucy’s muscles clamping around him, by the little shifts of her hips, her body against his, the smell of her musk, her tongue peeking out between her lips and licking a line down his neck, he was still aware of Flynn’s looming presence. The other man straddled Wyatt’s thighs, careful not to make contact, and Wyatt watched as he pushed Lucy’s dress high over her hips, draping the material over her back.

Lucy sighed against Wyatt, tasting his neck, dropping messy kisses to his skin, but the moment her hips stilled was when Wyatt became aware of exactly what Flynn was doing.

Her little gasps of pleasure hit his skin.

“Relax,” Flynn soothed, and Wyatt watched as the man rubbed gentle circles on her lower back with one hand, and rubbed his thumb against some other part of her anatomy.

Wyatt could guess.

“You okay, Luce?” Wyatt asked her, his voice low, his own hips having stilled as Flynn prepped her.

“I’m good,” she promised. “Not our first time.”

Her body relaxed further, molding into his like they were one. Wyatt felt Flynn’s fingers as he delved down to collect moisture, but he said nothing, letting him do what needed to be done for Lucy’s comfort.

When she gasped in pleasure, Wyatt knew Flynn had pushed past the tight muscle and entered her with a finger. His cock twitched inside her.

“It’s okay if you need to move, Wyatt,” she said, her voice shuddering as Flynn filled her with a second finger.

“I can wait.”

She nodded and reached down for his hand, linking their fingers and holding tight. “Flynn, please,” she begged. “Go slow, but just… now. Please.”

Flynn stroked his cock, spreading her moisture along it, and then spread her ass cheeks. Wyatt felt the pull of her body, felt her shudder, cling a little tighter to his hand. Her held breath, and the concentration on Flynn’s face, let him know Flynn was slowly pushing inside her, and then Wyatt felt the strangest sensation. With just a thin barrier between them, Wyatt felt the movement of Flynn’s cock – and he didn’t hate it.

“Wyatt, please, I need you to…”

Without needing her to finish the sentence, Wyatt thrust his hips up, carefully at first, unsure of how much she could take.

“More.”

At that one word, he picked up the pace, and so too did Flynn. As the man began a rhythm of thrusting into her from behind, Wyatt tried to match his pace with his own thrusts. He was more aware of Flynn than he’d hoped, but now it didn’t seem so awful. And for the first time, maybe ever, the two of them worked together, bringing Lucy to orgasm.

Her body tensed against his, and every ripple as her release washed through her brought him closer to his own. She gasped out his name, let go of his hand, wrapped both of hers around his neck, and clenched her muscles around him.

The groan from Flynn let Wyatt know he’d felt every moment of that too.

“Let go, Wyatt. It’s okay,” she whispered.

He did. He thrust up hard and fast, his hips pistoning off the hard ground, pounding into her.
Flynn stilled, and then pulled out, letting Wyatt go as hard as he needed. Flynn shifted out of the way and Wyatt rolled Lucy until her back was to the ground, bringing one of her legs up higher to change the angle within her. The slap of skin grew louder, sounded faster, until he quickly pulled out and came hard across her thighs.

“Move, Logan,” Flynn sneered, not giving him any recovery time.

He rolled aside, flat on his back and catching his breath, and opened his eyes in time to see Flynn smoothly entering Lucy with two long fingers. He kept his mouth shut, kept the sloppy seconds comment to himself, and let himself watch her face, watch the pleasure dance across her features, as Flynn fucked her with his fingers, his lips closing around her clit, sucking and gifting her with a second orgasm. Wyatt kept watching, as Flynn’s hand, slick from Lucy’s orgasm, closed around his cock and the man brought himself to orgasm with minimal tugs.

“Fuck,” Wyatt muttered, scraping a hand over his face. “Tell me I’m dreaming all this.” He turned his head and met Lucy’s tired but sparkling eyes.

“Was it okay for you?” she asked, with just a touch of hesitance.

“Christ, Lucy. That was… better than just okay.”

Flynn wiped his hand on the grass and then reached for Lucy, helping her to her feet and adjusting her dress for her. He then did something Wyatt didn’t expect and reached for him too until all three were on their feet, fixing their clothing and dusting dirt and leaves off their bodies.

“I hate to be the one to point this out,” Flynn said, coming up to stand behind Lucy, his body pressing hard to hers. Spurred on by a pang of jealousy, Wyatt inched closer until he stood before Lucy. Flynn met Wyatt’s eyes over her shoulder. “We’re short on time. How about we continue this discussion back home?”

Lucy raised her wide, expressive eyes to Wyatt's. She was beautiful. He moved his gaze to meet Flynn’s eyes, and up close, without the anger that had fueled him for so long, Wyatt saw a beauty in him too. A large palm flattened against his shoulder blade, from an arm reached around Lucy’s sandwiched body, and for a moment Wyatt was convinced Flynn was going to try and kiss him, but the man’s lips met Lucy’s cheek instead.

Wyatt leaned in and pressed his own lips to her other cheek, like he was proving to them he would be up for this again - if that was what they wanted.

“Just, what is this?” he asked, needing to know. “Is it a one-time thing for your fantasies? Or more?”

“It’s more, I hope. We hope it’s the start of something permanent,” she admitted.

"But how? Don’t you get jealous?” He looked at Flynn as he asked the question.

“No,” Flynn replied. “Lucy is—“

“Lucy is going to explain it to Wyatt back home herself,” she said sternly, turning between the men to fire a fiercely uncompromising look at Flynn.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” he said dryly.

Wyatt took a step back, and watched them for a moment. Something permanent? With both of them? He was willing to try. Maybe right now he only wanted Lucy, but he could keep an open mind. Be open to the possibilities. For her. For himself.

And, maybe, for Flynn too.