Love Under Two Jessops (26 page)

Chloe reached up and wrapped her hands around his wrists. “So I have recently discovered.”

Andrew came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed, gently, and their combined sensitivity and understanding nearly had her in tears.

“How about we shower, and then soak, and then Andrew and I sink balls deep into you?”

Chloe leaned back against Andrew, her gaze riveted on Grant. His suggestion, spoken in a tone that oozed sex, had her pussy lips quivering and her nipples tightening up into hard little peaks.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“We think so, too,” Andrew said.

She fully intended to undress herself, but honest to God, those men’s hands were nimble and quick. Before she could think of a witty thing to say, she was naked, and so were they.

The heat of the water felt wonderful after the long day. She appreciated that they had the temperature a little hotter than they maybe would have for themselves.

All these years later, and unless the shower was really hot, she
felt
cold.

“Just relax, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

How did they know? How did they know she was sad, and tired, and crying?

Andrew urged her head back, and she surrendered to him—she surrendered to them both. He was exquisitely thorough in the way he worked shampoo into her hair, and then carefully rinsed it.

Grant used his hands, covered in soap, to wash her breasts, her belly, and down her thighs. She gasped as his fingers slid back and forth between her legs, washing her pussy.

Pleasure lay here, in the supreme pampering of being tended to, of being bathed. Grant rinsed her, using one of the shower wands, and then eased her forward until she rested her head on him.

Andrew gave the same kind of tender and teasing attention to her back and bottom. When he moved his soap-slicked fingers between the cheeks of her ass, she moaned and shivered.

She didn’t mind the smug-sounding masculine chuckles in the least.

Then the shower stopped, and Grant picked her up and carried her, dripping wet, to the spa.

“I came home at lunch and emptied and refilled it,” he said. “I wanted it ready for us when we were ready for it.”

“Y’all are going to spoil me completely.”

“And this would be a problem, why?” Andrew asked.

Grant got into the tub with her in his arms, and then set her down on the bench seat between him and Andrew.

It was her favorite place to be, between these two alpha men.

They reached down and arranged her so that she had a leg draped over each of them. But rather than going for her cunt, they instead focused on massaging her feet and legs.

“Swear to God, you ever get tired of being firemen, I’d hire you to give massage. Um, wait, actually, no I wouldn’t.”

Andrew chuckled. “Why not?”

“Not sharing any part of your talented selves with
anyone
. So forget I even had that idea.” Lying back, her eyes closed, Chloe gave herself over to the moment. Every last bit of stress seeped out of her and into the water.

“That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to us, baby girl. We like that you’re possessive of us, because we’re sure as hell possessive of you.”

“Well stop the presses, we have a news flash,” she said.

“I think you’ve gone from stressed-out to sassy in the last few minutes,” Andrew said.

“No, I’m always sassy underneath everything else.”

“Personally, I like that about you,” Grant said. “How’re you feeling? Ready to get out of the water and get your brains fucked out?”

Chloe sighed. “You just keep turning my head with all that flowery shit,” she said.

Grant laughed. “What can I say? I’m a suave and debonair man. James Bond has got
nothing
on me.”

“Baby, that is nothing but the pure truth.” Chloe grinned and even with her eyes still closed she could sense both of her men grinning right along with her.

“Come on, hot momma, let’s get you out of our tub and into our bed.”

“Okay.” Chloe opened her eyes and sat up. She blinked her eyes and had the sudden sense that between one comment and the next she’d actually fallen asleep. Grant was already out of the water, and she hadn’t been aware of him even moving.

“Wow. Sorry, I didn’t mean to conk out on you.”

“That’s what you get for working too hard,” Andrew said. Before she could stand up, he lifted her, and handed her over to his brother.

Grant sat on the padded bench with her on his lap, wrapped in a heated towel. “I love these towels being so toasty warm.”

“You just love the heat, don’t you, baby girl?”

“I do, though not so much the extreme heat and humidity of our Texas summers. Then I like my AC, just like everybody else.”

Andrew stepped up and wrapped her hair in a towel, gently squeezing the water out. Chloe was blessed, in that although she had a lot of hair, it was very fine and tended to dry fairly quickly.

“You too tired for us, Chloe-doe?”

“Never.”

“Good.”

Grant opened the towel, and gazed at her body. Something about the way he kept his focus on her got her horny as hell. He clearly liked what he saw. That look, and the one Andrew wore, did more toward shoring up her always shaky self-confidence than a thousand words ever could have done.

“God in Heaven, Chloe, you are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I love you.”

They humbled her. She never believed she could be loved like this. She never truly believed she would ever find a man who would look at her the same way she remembered her daddy looking at her mom.

She had to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Why don’t you show me, darlin’? I need you. I need you both. I want to feel your hands and your mouths and your cocks on me…and in me.”

“What a coincidence,” Andrew said. He bent over her and kissed her head. “What you want and need is exactly what we want and need to give to you.”

She’d asked that they give to her, but the moment they stretched out on the bed beside her, she discovered that what she really needed was to give to them.

She turned on the bed, gained her knees, and had at them. Her hands stroked down their chests, as she kissed first one, and then the other of them. Fingers strummed male nipples, and bless them, they seemed to sense the need in her for they lay still, lay pliant, and allowed her to touch and kiss, to cup and grasp and stroke and tease.

And taste.

She loved the flavor of their cocks, loved the way their hot, turgid flesh filled her mouth. They each of them pulsed inside her mouth as she sipped from one, and then the other. She couldn’t get enough of them and wondered at this new addiction. She craved their flavor, the salt of their skin, the scent of them right there where their shafts sprang from the nest of their pubic hair.

“God Almighty.” Grant combed his fingers through her hair and lifted her head from his cock. “You’ve got me triggered, baby. Let me feel your hot cunt around my cock.”

He reached over toward the bedside table. She knew he was reaching for a condom, and she knew that this night,
right now
, she didn’t want anything between them.

“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.”

Grant froze in mid reach. “We’re clean, too.”

“Then let me feel you.” Chloe licked her lips. “I’ve never had a man naked inside me before. But I want you and Andrew that way. Please.”

Grant pulled his hand back, and rather than reach for the condom, he reached for her. He lifted her, brought her over his body, and held her while she reached down for his cock. It took her only a moment to position the head right where she needed it.

She slid down on him, taking his cock all the way deep, until she felt the head of it bump against her cervix. That was a special kind of nudge, one that held a thread of pain, and one she always looked forward to with her men. The pain fed her feral craving for this man, for him and his brother.

“God, you feel so damn good, Chloe. I’m not going to last.” He met her gaze, held it. “You’re the first, love, the first woman I’ve ever been naked inside.”

She thought then he might say something else, maybe about her being the last. But he didn’t, and damned if she didn’t feel really let down.

“Give me your mouth, woman,” he said. “I need to kiss you.”

Grant took control of her, pulling her down so that his mouth could fasten on hers. His tongue delved into her, commanding her own in a sexual dance, old as time, seductive, powerful.

She moved on him even as her tongue slid against his, even as she surrendered to him, submitted to him.

Raw and dark and oh, so exciting, she moved, squeezing his cock within her and letting the arousal climb and swirl, letting it set her ablaze.

Andrew tented her, his lips laying a line of kisses on her shoulder and back. His fingers, covered in lube, caressed back and forth over her anus. Chloe raised her mouth from Grant’s. The stimulation of Andrew’s touch shot her higher, and she moaned and pushed her ass against his hand.

He moved, and she felt the heat of his swollen flesh press against her, felt his cock push into her, stretching her rosebud, breaching her sphincter, and sliding into her.

“Hold still, Chloe. Damn, this is…hell, I’m not going to last, either. Take what we give you, now, Chloe. Let us fuck you.”

She wanted to move, to grind and rush toward her orgasm, but she held still, laid her head on Grant’s chest when he urged her to, and let go all thoughts of trying to take over.

She let go of the tension, and the control, and the rush. And then, as they moved inside her, as the reality of being stretched and full and
loved
became more real, Chloe Rhodes began, ever so gradually, to finally let go of the past.

They moved, as one, and loved, as one. Chloe shivered as her orgasm began to bubble up and over, as it took over. She felt her men move, felt their trembles, and satisfaction coated the sexual release that flowed through her. They shouted their climax, and the sensation of their seed bathing her in a wet warmth flung her over the edge of rapture once more.

* * * *

“I’m going to head on into Waco and pick up that box of resource materials,” Andrew said early the following Monday.

One of the firehouses in the larger city had some extra training manuals, and both he and his brother thought they’d be good to have on hand—and good to give to Trace Langley to study.

The young man soaked up knowledge like a sponge.

“Good idea. I ordered the other books online earlier, so they should arrive by tomorrow.”

“What do you want to bet that in another five or six years, our Mr. Langley is well on his way to a career in some big-city fire department?”

“I think that’s more of what they call a sure thing, rather than a gamble,” Grant said.

Once his brother left, Grant got back to the business of studying the data Artie had supplied. He reread all the on-scene notes, and reviewed all the evidence gathered to date.

Something had to tie all these properties together. He had a very strong feeling that their spark had a very specific reason for the fires he was setting.

He didn’t think the man—he was assuming “man”—was a typical pyromaniac. The fires weren’t escalating in scope, size, or severity.

Grant was reading through all the information for the second time when an idea occurred to him.

He put a call in to someone he knew on the board of Mesquite Management. Then he called Alan MacLean.

Both calls were short and to the point. His friend, Dennis Samson, with Mesquite, didn’t know the answer to his question but promised to get right back to him. Alan MacLean seemed intent to jaw for a few minutes first, but then gave Grant the information he wanted.

He no sooner hung up from Alan than Dennis called him back.

“I don’t know if this is what you’re looking for or not,” Dennis said, “but we picked up that parcel of land and two others at an auction, less than a year ago.”

“What kind of auction?”

“A foreclosure auction.”

Grant’s extra senses tingled. He knew he was on the right track. A quick call to the two financial institutions that owned the other two burn sites confirmed that those particular tracts had come into the banks’ hands as the result of the previous owners defaulting on their mortgages.

All
of the land burned had been seized between nine and twelve months before.

Grant couldn’t imagine the heartache and the sense of failure a person would have, losing their land—losing their home. It was a circumstance so far outside of his own personal experience as to be almost otherworldly. But he knew that since the financial meltdown of 2008 a lot of people had seen not only their investments evaporate but their homes devalued, only to be lost through what he considered the shenanigans of the Wall Street crowd.

The economy seemed to be finally recovering—slower than anyone liked, but still recovering—and Grant could only hope that those unfortunate people who’d been dispossessed could rebuild their lives and become homeowners again.