“Should I call him?” she asked.

Gorden, Doug, and Tate all answered in unison. “No!” Gorden continued after shooting a silencing glare at the two younger men. “I got him calmed down. You know how protective he is of you. If he thought the big, bad reporter was showing up here later, so would he. I don’t think even my considerable contacts and skills could help whitewash that shit storm.”

* * *

Later that evening, the four of them, Gorden, Tate, Doug, and Harper, quietly looked at menus. They’d left the office shortly after the interview and convened at an Italian restaurant not too far from Harper’s house. She surreptitiously glanced at the three men, who had spoken very little since the interview.

She finally put down her menu. “Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad!”

All three men eyed her. Gorden finally spoke. “It wasn’t that bad? I told you to do what I said. I told you to keep your cool. Calling Stockholm a ‘fucking, dickless douche’ is not my idea of keeping your cool!”

“I didn’t call him a douche,” she grumbled. “I called him an asshat. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Ceelie’s story will more than make up for any bullshit he tries to print.”

Gorden looked like he was trying to hold on to his cool. She didn’t care what Stockholm printed at this point. He’d taken the path they’d expected. After talking for all of ten minutes about business matters, he’d tried to get personal, asking her about her relationship with Doug and Tate.

“Anyway,” Gorden said, “let’s just hope the information Doug and Tate uncovered about Julia helps divert Stockholm’s attention her way. She’s a juicier story than you are at this point. No one locally knew about her business dealings.” He nodded at Doug and Tate. “My hat is off to you both. Good work.”

Doug smiled. “We grasshoppers tend to learn pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Tate echoed. “But I suspect someone’s earned themselves a spanking.” He looked pointedly at Harper, who blushed and suddenly found her menu totally fascinating, even though she’d eaten there more times than she could count and practically knew it by heart.

Gorden laughed. “I’m glad to see you two men keeping her in line. She needs it.”

* * *

Harper had forgotten about Tate’s threat by the time they got home. Apparently, her men had not. She came out of the bathroom, naked and ready for bed, surprised to find Tate and Doug still fully dressed and sitting next to each other on the side of the bed and wearing identical stern expressions.

Oh, crap. What the hell?

Doug patted his lap. “Come here, little girl.”

She fought not to blush, losing horribly. Her pussy was already starting to throb and grow wet. “What?” She didn’t move from the bathroom doorway.

Tate crooked a finger at her. “Don’t make us come get you. I told you, you earned a spanking today. You totally ignored what Gorden said to do during your interview with Stockholm.”

“I didn’t ignore him! I just… Hey, I was defending you two!”

Doug shook his head. “No, you lost your temper. And the two of us, if you haven’t noticed, don’t need defending. Our job is to take care of you.” He patted his lap again. “Now.”

Slowly, drawn more by their gazes than by willing desire, she slowly walked across the bedroom to stand before them. “What are you going to do?” She knew damn well what they were going to do. As badly as she didn’t want it, and knew if she flat-out refused, they wouldn’t do it, still she came to a stop in front of them.

But somewhere deep inside her, a dark, long-locked part of her soul creaked open. Yesss…

She didn’t want it, but she did.

Badly.

Doug gently grabbed her arm and pulled her face down onto their laps. He stroked her hair with one hand, then grabbed a firm fistful of it, the other resting in the middle of her back. Tate kept her legs pinned with one arm, his other stroking her ass.

“Time for naughty little girls to pay the price,” Tate said. Smack!

That wasn’t a playful, sexy swat. It was a full-on, stinging blow on her left ass cheek.

She squealed in protest when she felt Doug lift the hand on her lower back. “Yes, time for our bad little girl to learn her lesson.” Smack! Her right ass cheek was now stinging.

She squealed and squirmed and cried and tried to get away, and despite all the noise she made, she was embarrassed to admit her pussy was now so wet that if she didn’t leave a damp spot on their slacks, it would be a miracle. A few minutes later, they stopped, gently rubbing her stinging ass as she went limp and cried.

They helped her out of their laps and onto the bed, where Tate held her in his arms and stroked her hair. “Now that’s our good girl. Doesn’t that feel better?”

Doug gently pried her legs apart and used two fingers to part her labia. He slid them all the way in, slowly fucking her pussy with his hand. “Look how wet you are. Admit it, little girl. You want your men to keep you in line, don’t you?”

Her brain wanted to scream NO! and call them fucking assholes.

Her heart made her whisper, “Yes.”

“Good girl,” they softly said in unison.

She broke down sobbing. “Please don’t leave me!” Now where the hell did that come from? She felt like she was losing her mind. She should be pissed as hell, but all she wanted was for them to fuck her brains out.

Doug stopped what he was doing and moved up the bed to her other side. “We’re never leaving you,” he hoarsely said. When she looked, she saw his face was full of emotion. “Baby, we promise, we’ll take good care of you. You take care of the business, and we’ll take care of you.” He caressed her cheek. “All of you. The strong woman who needs us for backup, and the scared little girl who never wanted to let anyone close to her for fear of them seeing how scared she could be.”

Tate kissed her forehead. “If your dad fired all three of us tomorrow and we had to go work at a fast food restaurant, I’d still want to be with you, to love you, to protect you. Let us take care of you. Don’t fight us.”

Doug smiled at her. “Besides, it was only thirty swats. We would have stopped at twenty, but Gorden asked for an additional ten for his aggravation.”

She laughed. It’d felt like a lot more, but then again, she’d been too busy howling like a scalded cat and trying to get away to keep count.

“There’s our girl,” Tate said. “Now lay back. Good girls get rewarded.”

She relaxed as Tate kissed her and Doug resumed his plundering of her exposed southern region. He slipped two then three fingers into her pussy, finding and rubbing her G-spot and bringing her close to coming. When he leaned in and licked her clit, she exploded, her muscles contracting around his fingers.

“That’s our good girl,” Tate said. “Let him make you feel good.”

Good? That was the understatement of the year. Doug didn’t bother removing his clothes. He sat up, unfastened his slacks, and pushed them and his briefs down past his hips. He was almost inside her when he stopped. “Fuck. Condom.” He started to withdraw to get one, but Harper hooked her legs around his and shook her head at him.

They’d discussed this, but she’d never been sure of a timeline.

Now, she was.

The men froze. “Are you sure, sweetie?” Tate softly asked.

She looked at him and nodded again.

Doug leaned in and kissed her as he slowly sank his cock home. She wrapped her legs around his hips, thrusting to meet him, wanting to feel him come inside her. She stroked his back, her fingers slipping on the fabric of his shirt as she met each stroke.

It didn’t take him long. She didn’t care that she couldn’t come with him, either. As he lowered his head and kissed her, she pulled Tate close, kissed him, then nudged the two of them together to kiss.

She loved to watch them kiss.

“You next,” she whispered to Tate.

Doug rolled out of the way, and at least Tate managed to get his pants all the way off before he plunged his stiff cock into her. He didn’t last long either, but cradled in Doug’s arms, she didn’t care. She suspected this time wouldn’t lead to her getting pregnant, because it was too close to the end of her month.

But it never hurt to practice.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Harper surveyed the large dining room table. When she couldn’t remember where they’d ended up, Doug and Tate had spent the better part of an hour scouring the house for the two extra leaves to put in it to expand it to its full length. They were forgoing the formality of dishes in exchange for paper plates. By her last head count, they would have at least twenty people for Thanksgiving dinner.

It would be a fantastic holiday. The GAO audit had come out successfully, as they knew it would. The Tribune follow-up story had made no mention of Harper’s personal life, especially after the glowing Times story. A day filled with all her “family,” blood kin and otherwise. Football on the TV, and freshly baked pumpkin pies on the counter.

All’s well that ends well.

Harper did another count of chairs. They’d bought some folding chairs to fill in, and seating would be tight, but hopefully everyone would fit.

Food wouldn’t be a problem. Between Olivia, Sarah, and Tate’s mom, Natalie, bringing dishes of their own, they’d have enough food to feed an army.

Tate walked in with three paper-mache centerpieces. “I’ve got the turkeys,” he announced proudly. He’d insisted on decorating the house, and she couldn’t refuse him. He was so cute. Doug had taken over the bulk of the cooking duties.