She held on to Charles’ waist as she went down on him. The cool night air was a pleasant contrast to the heat building inside her and the hot water of the tub. Ken grabbed her hips and set up a hard, fast pace.

“Look at our dirty girl,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Such a sweet little slut for her men, being fucked in a hot tub where anyone could walk up and hear.”

She knew the likelihood of that at night was slim to none, but his dirty words amped her need and passion.

Charles buried his fingers in her hair and took charge, fucking her mouth and making her a totally willing prisoner to both men. “Yes, she is,” he said. “Using that jet to make her come while she’s got two cocks inside her. Such a horny girl she is.”

Aaaand that was two. She cried out around his cock, not afraid of making any noises at that point and knowing the sound would be muffled by his body.

“Did she just come again?” Charles asked Ken in a teasing tone.

“Yes, she did,” he confirmed. “Squeezed my cock like a good little fuck toy.”

She moaned, helpless to their passion and hers. Her deep, dark desires were no match for the two men. They treated her like a cherished princess most of the time.

And their horny little slut the rest.

And she prayed they never grew tired of her.


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Dalton

Ken pressed forward, shoving her closer to the jet and deeper onto Charles’ cock. She twisted and squirmed and tried to escape the relentless feel of the jet quickly pushing her to another orgasm, but the men wouldn’t be denied.

“No you don’t,” Charles said. He grabbed her arms and pulled them from around his waist and forced them behind her back. Ken took over, grabbing her wrists and using the leverage to fuck her even harder while Charles retook his hold on her head. “Now you sit there and come for us until we let you stop.”

The third orgasm robbed her body of all strength. The water buoyed her as Ken and Charles seesawed her between them, obviously in no hurry to come themselves. Sometimes, the men were borderline sadists in their pursuit of her orgasms.

Not that she was or ever would complain about it.

By the time the sixth orgasm rolled through her, neither man had come yet. They both withdrew and made her stand there, swaying in the water, while they changed position. Ken took the condom off while Charles put one on, and they assumed the position the other had vacated. In seconds, she was once again spit-roasted between the two, this time with Ken’s cock down her throat and Charles pounding her pussy.

She lost track of time as each climax rolled through her. Finally, Charles said, “Think she’s had enough yet?”

Ken laughed. “Yes, probably. I know I can’t hold it much longer.”

“Neither can I.”

Libbie rocked between them, unable to move between their secure hold on her and her lack of strength from her orgasms. “Come on,”

Charles urged. “You’ve got one more in you.” He shoved her even closer to the jet as he fucked her hard, and that was all it took to trigger one more climax.

“Good girl,” Ken grunted. His cock erupted in her mouth and she struggled to keep up with the spurts of his juices going down her throat even as Charles slammed his hips against her.


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Moments later, the three of them were panting, relaxing in the water with Libbie blissfully floating between them with her eyes closed.

Ken chuckled. “I think we wore her out.”

“We always wear her out,” Charles said. He leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. “That’s why she puts up with us.”

She blindly reached for their hands and pulled them to her chest with her fingers laced through them. “I’ll put up with you forever,”

she whispered.

The men took turns placing kisses on her lips. “Watch out, or we’ll hold you to that,” Ken said.


166 Tymber

Dalton

Chapter Sixteen

Between the weather fluctuating and holiday stress, despite the benefits of the hot tub and plenty of endorphin boosts from really great sex, Libbie realized her pain levels were still slowly climbing, although not as bad as in past years. She had bouts of fibro fog, and her fatigue would sometimes hit her from out of the blue. The worst days of pain were made easier to bear by having her men beside her.

Besides the obvious perk of having two hunks in her bed every night, Charles’ amazing progress in decorating skills was a godsend as far as Libbie was concerned. Her holiday special orders had gone through the roof, but with Charles and sometimes even Ken pitching in, she wasn’t afraid of being overwhelmed and didn’t have to turn away any orders. She even tried to give them a break on their rent, but the men insisted on paying the full price.

She didn’t know how or when Charles found time to get any work done, because he was always helping out in the bakery even though she told him it wasn’t necessary for him to be there every day.

The only exception seemed to be on Mondays, when one or both of the men left to run errands since the bakery was closed.

The first Friday in December, she asked Charles to run an errand with her. He drove her car, and she gave him directions to a liquor store on the other side of town, where they had an order waiting for her.

He loaded the six cases of bourbon into her car for her. “You taking up a bad hobby I don’t know about?” he teased.

“No, silly. It’s for my fruitcakes.”

He made a face. “Blech. Sorry.”


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“Oh, don’t be that way until you taste one of them. They’re not like the grocery store bricks you see for sale. It’s sort of like a boozed-up pound cake with fruit and nuts and a sugary glaze drizzled on top.”

“Hmm. Then I’ll withhold my judgment.”

“Good.” She closed the trunk. “Because you’ll be helping me make a bunch of them.”

“That explains the cases of raisins, cherries, nuts, and cranberries you got in this week.”

“Yep.” She smiled. “It’s my own recipe. I started with a recipe of my grandmother’s and modified it over the years. I used to make a bunch of them every year for gifts, and people loved them. So when I opened the bakery, I decided to sell them and people seem to love them.”

“By the way, when are we putting up your Christmas tree?” he asked.


Allan watched as she suddenly found her hands very interesting.

She picked at her cuticles. “I’m probably not going to.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

“Come on, Libbie. Talk to me.”

“I haven’t put one up since Mom and Dad died. I have all their ornaments, but I just didn’t have the heart or energy or strength to do it.”

His heart ached for her. “Oh, sweetie.” He placed his hand over hers and waited until she finally looked at him. “Will you let us put up a tree for you?”

He read the old pain in her sweet green eyes. He longed to tell her he loved her, but since she hadn’t yet said it to either of them, they didn’t want to make her feel obligated to say it.


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Dalton

And truth be told, he worried maybe she wasn’t saying it because she didn’t feel the same way about them despite her actions. Although the men had noticed she had no objections to them mentioning a future together.

They still didn’t know how they’d handle the trial. Their best idea thus far was waiting until right before they had to leave and then sitting down with her and telling her the full truth about them.

And praying she didn’t hate their guts for it.

For his part, Allan knew that once the trial was over, if Libbie didn’t hate them, he was going to sit down and talk with her about their future together. He didn’t know what Ben’s plans were.

He damn sure didn’t want to jinx anything by forcing him to talk about it, either.

She let out a sad sigh and nodded.

He pulled her in for a hug. “Let’s go shopping for a tree tonight after Ken gets back. A beautiful live tree. It’s…” He didn’t want to trip himself over saying the wrong thing. “I haven’t had a tree in a while, either.”

In fact, he hadn’t had one since their mom had died. He’d been too busy with school, and then working, to even think about it.

Besides, what was the point? It wasn’t like he had a significant other in his life to share it with.

It was far easier to spend every waking moment away from home.

Then he was too busy to notice how his house was as empty as his heart.

Until Libbie.

“Okay,” she softly agreed.

Ben was down in Tampa making conference calls regarding the case. On Monday, Allan would have to go make some calls of his own. He resented the lying more every time he had to do it. It wasn’t fair to her.

He only hoped it wouldn’t damage her trust in them beyond repair when they finally admitted the truth.


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When Ben returned that afternoon, he found Allan had sent Libbie upstairs for a nap because she looked exhausted. Allan had already arranged with Grover to go and pick up the boxes of ornaments from his storage shed.

“We should really get her some lights,” Ben added. “If they’ve been sitting that long, they might not work.”

“Will you go do it now?” Allan asked. “I’ll finish up down here with closing. And grab the ornaments from Grover.”