Closing her eyes, she flipped the switch on the vibrator and let out a sigh as she touched it to her clit.
Thaaaat’s it.
In her mind, she stared into Ken’s blue eyes as he knelt between her legs. She found the perfect angle and clamped her thighs together, holding the vibrator in place. She cupped her breasts with her hands, imagining they belonged to Charles, his fingers knowing exactly how to torment her nipples and drive her closer to the edge.
She’d read plenty of ménage fiction in the past couple of years.
More than once she’d had to put her Kindle down to go seek out her vibrator and take care of erotic urges.
Focus. She imagined staring up into Charles’ blue eyes as he tweaked her nipples while Ken’s tongue worked on her clit. It would be heavenly to feel Ken’s hands clamped around her thighs, forcing her to endure the pleasure he’d make her take, neither man relenting or releasing her until they’d satisfied her.
Men to take charge, that she could trust and let go to. Men who would take what they wanted and give plenty in return.
Men who would take care of her.
She softly whimpered as her hips rocked against the vibrator.
She’d love to feel two sets of hands pinning her down to the bed while they had their way with her, completely and utterly owning her It’s a Sweet Life 83
body.
When the first flutters started, she pinched her nipples harder, the little bite sending her over the edge while the vibrator buzzed against her clit, stretching her climax out. She came down from her orgasm and pulled the vibrator from between her legs. She had to fumble to find the switch, but as she dropped it into the drawer where it resided with her other Bobs, she already felt herself drifting.
Too bad it’ll never be anything but a fantasy.
84 Tymber
Dalton
Chapter Nine
Libbie awoke Tuesday morning at her usual time when the alarm went off at ten ’til four. As she slowly flexed her hands, she breathed a sigh of relief. Part of her had worried Mandaline’s miracle mixtures wouldn’t work more than once or twice.
She was happily pleased to admit she was wrong. While achy, her hands weren’t bothering her any more than on a mildly uncomfortable day. The pre-bedtime orgasm had helped her sleep well, too.
She started her coffee, added dry chow to Galileo’s bowl, and headed for the shower. As she stood under the spray for a few minutes, slowly stretching and easing the rest of her muscles, she thought about dinner the night before.
The cousins were handsome. Stunningly so. Their identical blue eyes melted things deep inside her she never thought would see the light of day again.
And dammit, they’re gay.
She let out a wistful sigh.
Charles, the friendlier one. Scratch that, it wasn’t very fair of her to say such a thing. He had a more outgoing personality was all. Ken had his own unique charm, but she got the idea he was used to paying close attention to details for a living. The way she felt his eyes on her several times during their meal, as if evaluating her. Not in a creepy way…
It reminded her of one of her customers, Detective Haines from the Hernando County Sheriff’s Office. He came in once a week to buy munchies for staff meetings.
She felt herself blush over the dreams she’d had about the men. Of It’s a Sweet Life 85
being sandwiched between them, of them doing deliciously immoral things to her, of ravishing her body all night long.
I’m spending too much time on my Kindle. Then again, it made great vibrator session fodder. She was glad she’d accepted their offer for dinner. She’d had a good time and enjoyed talking with them. And she’d have a chance to spend more time with Charles down in the bakery.
The giddy shiver that raced through her body at the thought brought her to a mental stop. They’re gay, she firmly reminded herself. And you’re not in the market for a boyfriend, remember?
She suspected if given a voice in the matter, her pussy would be wearing a sad panda pout at that thought.
Shaking her head to snap herself out of her thoughts, she said, “Damn, I reeeally need a social life.”
She was dressed and down in the bakery less than twenty minutes later, with a second cup of coffee in hand and having started the office coffeepot as well. She fired off a quick e-mail to her supplier with her order before pulling down her Tuesday list.
She crossed send wholesale order off the top of the list with a black dry-erase marker. Every day had a its own list, even though over three-quarters of the daily items were duplicates. Next to the daily list was another laminated sheet labeled Special Orders. On it, written in dry-erase marker, the Palmer order. They’d get those knocked out today and ready to go.
The lists made it easier on her when the fibro fog was so bad she could barely remember her own name. Before, when it was one large list for the whole week, she found herself doing things that didn’t need to be done, or redoing things that had been done days before, despite being crossed off already.
The daily list system was fibro-fog foolproof, as she thought of it.
It also made it easy for Ruth, Grover, and Jenny to see what still needed to be done and take over when necessary.
Libbie wasn’t too proud to admit she had a great capability to 86 Tymber Dalton
screw things up when in the grips of a severe flare.
Hence, the lists.
A noise on the stairs startled her. She turned to find Charles walking through the back door into the kitchen area.
The pleasant thump her heart made at the sight of him caught her off guard. I really need to get better about that. “Hey. Wow, you’re up early.”
He offered her a sleepy smile. He looked delicious in faded jeans, sneakers, and a plain white T-shirt. “I wasn’t sure what to wear in a bakery, so I hope this is okay?”
The T-shirt wasn’t overly tight, just snug enough it clung to him and showed off his physique. She nodded. “Uh-huh. Um, I mean yeah. It’s fine. You didn’t have to come in this early, though.”
He shrugged. “I’m not doing anything else today. Might as well start learning.”
She swallowed hard as she looked up into his blue eyes. “Okay,”
she squeaked.
She started with the easiest, showing him the lists. “Every day has a list. When something’s done on the list, it has to be crossed off with one of these markers.” She used a magnet to hold the list onto the whiteboard near the office door, where it could be seen from anywhere in the kitchen area.
“Are there drastically different routines from day to day?”
“No.” She pointed to a second sheet held to the board with another magnet. “Except for special orders, it’s pretty routine for the most part.”
“Then why does each day have its own list?”
“Because I need it that way.” She tapped her temple. “Fibro fog.
You have no idea how bad it can be.”
His face showed recognition instead of the ridicule or ignorance It’s a Sweet Life 87
she’d prepared herself for. “Ah, that makes sense.”
“You really think so?”
He nodded. “I work…worked with a woman with fibro. I don’t know how she made it through some days.”
“Oh.” Her estimation of him rose even higher. “Okay.”