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.
168 Tymber
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.
It’s a Sweet Life
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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.”
“Yeah.” He headed out again. By the time he returned an hour later, he admitted he’d gone a little crazy with buying new lights, but wanted to make sure they had enough. Any extras, he thought, they could hang in the windows or something for her.
He welcomed any opportunity to bring a smile to her face. Lately, her pain levels, while not too bad, had been creeping steadily up but she refused to admit it to them. Ben knew from close observations of her, in subtle ways, of how she climbed the stairs, or how long she stood in the shower in the morning, to how she held her utensils when she ate, that she wasn’t admitting how bad her pain was.