It's A Sweet Life Part 18

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip to stifle the loud moan of pleasure she wanted to let loose.

"Good, baby?" Ken asked.

All she could do was nod.

Ken grabbed a condom from where he'd left a couple on the side of the tub and rolled it on. "It's going to get better." He lined up his c.o.c.k with her p.u.s.s.y and pressed in. Between the sensation of the jet on her c.l.i.t, and his large member shoved deep inside her c.u.n.t, she came.

Charles laughed as he held her. "That was fast." He climbed onto the edge of the tub and sat with his feet in the water. His c.o.c.k was hard and ready. Needing no encouragement, she went down on him while Ken repositioned her so she was kneeling on the seat in front of the jet and it still hit her p.u.s.s.y.

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 s.l.u.t for her men, being f.u.c.ked 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 pa.s.sion.

Charles buried his fingers in her hair and took charge, f.u.c.king 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 c.o.c.ks inside her. Such a h.o.r.n.y girl she is."

Aaaand that was two. She cried out around his c.o.c.k, not afraid of making any noises at that point and knowing the sound would be m.u.f.fled by his body.

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

"Yes, she did," he confirmed. "Squeezed my c.o.c.k like a good little f.u.c.k toy."

She moaned, helpless to their pa.s.sion 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 h.o.r.n.y little s.l.u.t the rest.

And she prayed they never grew tired of her.

Ken pressed forward, shoving her closer to the jet and deeper onto Charles' c.o.c.k. She twisted and squirmed and tried to escape the relentless feel of the jet quickly pus.h.i.+ng her to another o.r.g.a.s.m, 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 f.u.c.k 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 o.r.g.a.s.m 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 s.a.d.i.s.ts in their pursuit of her o.r.g.a.s.ms.

Not that she was or ever would complain about it.

By the time the sixth o.r.g.a.s.m 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 a.s.sumed the position the other had vacated. In seconds, she was once again spit-roasted between the two, this time with Ken's c.o.c.k down her throat and Charles pounding her p.u.s.s.y.

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 o.r.g.a.s.ms. "Come on," Charles urged. "You've got one more in you." He shoved her even closer to the jet as he f.u.c.ked her hard, and that was all it took to trigger one more climax.

"Good girl," Ken grunted. His c.o.c.k 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.

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.

Chapter Sixteen.

Between the weather fluctuating and holiday stress, despite the benefits of the hot tub and plenty of endorphin boosts from really great s.e.x, 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. .h.i.t 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 G.o.dsend 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."

"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.

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 d.a.m.n 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.

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.

All they could do was keep a close watch on her and try to make her take it easy.

When Libbie awoke and saw the boxes of ornaments in her living room, she sat down next to them and started opening them. Ben watched as she slowly went through them, sometimes pausing with a wistful smile on her face, until she unearthed three plastic bins the size of s...o...b..xes.

Then silent tears slid down her cheeks.

He caught Allan's attention and they sat on either side of her, both their arms around her as she opened the first box.

Inside, safely nestled in white tissue paper, were beautiful gla.s.s flamingoes in different poses. Some were of handblown gla.s.s, and some painted gla.s.s.

She let out a sad laugh. "These were Mom's favorites." She held one up, which appeared to be wearing red high-heeled shoes and a fancy hat. "Dad always got her a new one every year. She loved flamingoes. He'd stick it on the tree Christmas morning and make her hunt for it. She knew every one of them and always found it."

She laid her head on Ben's shoulder. "I miss them so much. I wish you could have met them."

His heart ached for her. "We wish we could have met them, too," Ben said.

"Yeah," Allan echoed.

After she composed herself, she replaced the ornament and continued looking through the boxes. When she finally located the Christmas tree stand she was ready to go in search of a tree. She held her hands up to both men and they helped her to her feet.

Crowded in the cab of the truck, they drove to a nearby lot and Ben relaxed as her spirits seemed to improve.

In the back of his mind, in sharp contrast to their happy scene, lay echoes of the conversation he'd had on the phone with one of the federal investigators that afternoon.

And the news they'd told him of one of the witnesses being murdered, found dismembered in a drainage ca.n.a.l in Naranja.

He hadn't yet had time to tell Allan about it where he could be sure Libbie wouldn't hear. But it drove home even more how important it was to make sure there was never a way for Bianco to tie her to them.

Even if it meant he'd have to walk away and break her heart and his in the process, he would keep her safe.

Christmas morning dawned cold and wet with temperatures in the upper forties. A weather front had marched through two days earlier and hung around with a brutal tenacity that had them wondering whether or not they should force Libbie to see Dr. Smith for stronger pain meds.

The men had put Libbie's presents under the tree before they started the coffee and gently awoke her. Allan had the idea of enlisting Mandaline's help in picking special presents for her, and they bought her a matching set of rose quartz earrings and a necklace, with Ben giving her the earrings and Allan giving her the pendant.

Mandaline had told them rose quartz was a stone of love, and the delicate pink color would look beautiful with Libbie's green eyes.

This was in addition to the playful things they got her, such as a hoodie with the "Soft Kitty" song from The Big Bang Theory on it, and a T-s.h.i.+rt with Sheldon's trademarked Bazinga! emblazoned on the front.

Allan knew his and Ben's original plans of bringing Libbie home and boinking her brains out after the family lunch at Grover's house would have to be put on hold. As it was, Allan wasn't even sure he wanted Libbie getting out of bed.

She looked up at them, her eyes red and full of pain as they carefully helped her sit up. "I'm okay," she weakly said.

Allan exchanged a look with Ben before returning his attention to her. "We could stay home, you know."