Tymber Dalton (23 page)

When she caught her breath, the men carefully turned her over. Ken kissed her as he made love to her, this time Charles the one to strum her clit while Ken’s shaft slowly fucked her pussy.

He didn’t take as long to climax as Charles had, but Charles still managed to make her come with him.

As she lay there in their arms, drifting to sleep between them, she heard them whisper, “Happy New Year, baby,” one in each ear.

“Happy New Year.”

* * * *

January saw several brutal cold fronts blast through Brooksville, severe by local standards. The weather forecasters said it was the coldest January on record in over seventy-five years.

Allan, who spent more time in the bakery than Ben, found himself forcing Libbie to slow down and not overtax herself. He made her spend a lot of time taking it easy, soaking in the hot tub, and being cared for by her men when she could barely get out of bed on her worst days.

Then it eased up a little in the beginning of February, allowing Libbie a chance to recover some energy and emerge from her cocoon of pain to the point she almost felt normal by the Monday of Valentine’s Day. Allan looked forward to getting Libbie all to himself for part of the day. Ben had to go on one of his Monday errands, but he promised to be back by four so they could spend the evening celebrating together.

The Monday errands were good cover excuses for the scheduled conference calls they had to make regarding the trial. Ben would be driving south to St. Pete for today’s calls.

Allan still thought Ben was being overly cautious, but since they’d so far successfully remained hidden, he wouldn’t fight him on it.

They both gave her beautiful Valentine’s Day cards, which made her cry the good kind of tears.

After they opened her cards to them, Ben spoke up. “Listen, there’s a part two to all of this, but it’s going to wait until tonight, after I get back. Okay?”

“Okay.” She glanced at Allan. “I suspect he’ll take good care of me.”

“I know he will,” Ben said, “or I’ll kick his ass.”

After a round of good-bye kisses, Libbie wrapped her arms around Allan. “I want to go up to Webster.”

“To what?”

“Webster. It’s a flea market. It’s really famous. It’s only open on Mondays. It’s a farmer’s market and livestock market, too.”

“I’m sooo not buying you a pony.”

She laughed. “You’re silly.”

“Why is it only open on Mondays?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you have farmer’s markets in Nebraska?”

Allan caught himself before asking what she was talking about. Nebraska hadn’t come up in conversation, casually or otherwise, in several weeks. “Yeah, but flea markets and stuff are usually weekend events.”

“Can we go? Please?”

“Of course we can. I’m not letting you drive all that way alone.”

“It’s not that far. It’s just one exit up from 50.”

“Oh. Well, still, I’ll drive you.” He kissed her. “And I’ll be your gallant pack animal.”

She draped her arms around his neck. “Well, Mr. Gallant, we need to get moving. They opened over two hours ago.”

They had flea markets in Miami, but nothing the likes of what he saw when they made their way to the Webster flea market. Admittedly, his experience was more urban than rural, but he felt like a Miami native transplanted to Nebraska instead of just a few hundred miles north in his own home state.

He dutifully followed Libbie around the flea market, constantly observing her to make sure she wasn’t getting too cold in the chilly breeze, or overexerting herself. He wouldn’t let her carry any of her purchases, which included a few books, some fresh produce, and a glass, antique fishing net buoy that caught her eye for some reason.

It was after he’d sensed she was starting to wear down that he gently suggested they call it a morning.

When she didn’t argue with him, he knew his instincts had been spot-on. “Okay. Back to the car. You feel like lunch?”

“Lunch I could definitely do.”

* * * *

Libbie gave him directions, taking them back the long way south down Highway 471 so she could show off more of her home state, including parts of the Richloam Wildlife Management Area, to her Cornhusker. “So how are you liking Florida winters so far?”

He smiled. “They’re definitely
not
Nebraska winters. Thank god.”

She never failed to giggle when he said something along those lines. It had become something of a running joke to them, to quote
The Big Bang Theory
several times throughout the course of their day.

She loved it.

They stopped at a small café not too far south of Webster for lunch.

“Ooh, they have Cuban sandwiches.” He closed his menu with a flourish. “I know what I’m having.”

“That sounds good. Make it two.”

“And I’m buying. No arguments,” he said when she’d opened her mouth to do just that.

She smiled. “All right.”

“We took your car and used your gas. It’s only fair I buy you lunch.”

“Hey, I’m still up to my ass in debt to you two for the hot tub.”

He caught her hand in his and feathered his fingers across her knuckles. “And you know damn well that was a gift, so knock it off or I’ll spank you.”

It was his arched eyebrow that set her off on a giggle fit. Charles had to order for her, because she was still giggling when the waitress stopped back to take their orders.

When the waitress left their orders a few minutes later, Charles stared at his sandwich in disgust.

“What’s wrong?” Libbie asked.

He pulled the pressed sandwich apart and picked up the top bun to show her. “It’s not a Cuban sandwich.”

She frowned. “Huh?” While she admitted the bread wasn’t technically Cuban bread, it contained the right ingredients—mustard, ham, roast pork, swiss cheese, and pickles. And it was hot and pressed.

He pointed at the bun. “You’re a baker. You of all people should know this isn’t real Cuban bread.”

She eyed him cautiously. “Oookay. Yeah, you’re right, it’s not.” Traditional Cuban bread wasn’t something she made in her bakery because there wasn’t a great demand for it in their area. “But how would someone from Nebraska know that?”

She wasn’t sure, but thought a guilty look might have flashed across his face for a moment. “I…I went to visit a cousin of mine in Miami one year at Spring Break. He educated me on what a real Cuban sandwich is.” He reassembled the sandwich and picked it up, taking a bite. “I mean, it’s okay,” he managed around a mouthful of bread, “but it’s not a real one.”

Libbie had a suspicion there was more to it, but decided to let it drop. “Okay. It’s not a real Cuban sandwich.”

* * * *

Allan mentally kicked himself.
How could I be so damn stupid?
Few people outside of Florida, who’d never spent time in the South Florida or Tampa regions, knew a “real” Cuban sandwich from a regular sub sandwich.

When he’d seen Cuban sandwich on the menu, he’d jumped at it, having been denied one of his favorites ever since October, when they’d arrived in Brooksville. He’d been raised on the real thing and knew that arcane little nugget about Florida cuisine.

He longed to take Libbie to Miami and give her a tour of all the best eateries he knew, many looking like dives from the street, yet sparkling clean inside.

I don’t want to let her go. I can’t lose her.

The truth hammered him. No matter what happened with the trial, he couldn’t walk away from Libbie. There was no way.

That he’d built his relationship with her on a stack of lie upon lie ate at his conscience, no matter how valiant and noble the reasoning behind it.

Not for the first time, fear gripped him.
Will she even want us back in her life when we eventually have to reveal the truth to her?
She might end up so disgusted at them for the breach of trust that she’d throw them out.

* * * *

Libbie soon forgot the incident as she started playing tour guide. By the time they returned to the apartment, Charles apparently had other things on his mind, too. He grabbed towels, her bathrobe, and waited by the apartment door. “Strip, baby.”

She felt her face heat, with passion instead of embarrassment. “Yes, sir.”

He grinned. “Hey, don’t tempt me to get all spanky on your sweet ass. I’ll do it.”

She did a little striptease for him, leaving articles of clothing strewn across the apartment floor in her wake as she walked up to him. “Like this?”

His hard cock pressed against the front of his jeans. “Exactly like that.” He draped the robe over her. “Now let’s get your cute ass in that hot tub before my cock explodes and you have to lick a wet spot off the inside of my briefs.” He quickly stripped and helped her downstairs.

Normally, they didn’t make love in the hot tub in the daytime. But there was no one lurking around in the wooded area behind the building when they went out to the screened room. Charles quickly dropped the towel he’d held around his hips and helped her out of her robe and into the hot tub. Then he followed her in and pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him.

His stiff cock pressed against her ass. She braced her palms on his chest. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her as his hands disappeared in the water. One hand pulled her ass cheeks apart as he pressed a finger against her rim. “I want you there, baby. I want that sweet, tight ass of yours fisting my cock.” His finger breached her rim, making her gasp with pleasure. Several times since their first night they’d taken her at the same time like that, one of their large cocks buried in her pussy while the other fucked her ass.

He pushed it deeper inside her. “Play with your nipples, baby. Get yourself hot.”

Her face filled with heat but she complied, cupping her breasts with her palms and tweaking her nipples until they were hard peaks. He leaned in and licked one, then the other. “You like it when we fuck your ass, don’t you, baby? Use you like you need to be used?”

She nodded, his rumbling tone making her cunt pulsate.

Surprising her with his swiftness, he shifted her off his lap and positioned her in front of one of the jets, which weren’t turned on yet. “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes and wiggled her ass at him.

She heard the sound of him ripping the pouch open and rolling the condom on. Then he stepped behind her and raised her ass out of the water so he could lube her.

“I also got you a present,” he said when he’d finished lubing her dark hole.

“What?”

She felt something large, even larger than their cocks, press between her pussy lips. When she tried to turn to see what it was, he stopped her with a hand between her shoulder blades holding her in place. “Oh, no you don’t. You stay right there.” The dildo was large, enough so he had to go slow and carefully work it inside her. She whimpered and tried to fuck herself back on it, but he wouldn’t be rushed. Only when it was buried all the way inside her pussy and pressing on her G-spot did he move the hand from her back. He hit the switch on the jets. The water immediately began hitting her clit. She had to bite back the loud cry struggling to let loose.

Then he lined his cock up with her well-lubed ass and pressed in, giving her enough time to get used to it before he slid all the way in. With his legs rubbing the backs of her thighs and his body holding the dildo inside her pussy, he moved her closer to the water jet.

She was nearly close to coming when one of his hands reached around her and did something. Inside her, the dildo sprang to life, vibrating and tossing her over the edge as if she’d jumped off a cliff.

“It’s waterproof,” he growled in her ear. Then he grabbed her hips and started fucking her ass hard, viciously. She had to hold on to the edge of the tub and dug her fingers in hard as she tried not to scream.

Even the Hitachi didn’t do this to her. Whatever deliciously evil thing it was, it felt like there was no escaping the pleasure for even the briefest of respites like she could when it was just the jet of water striking her clit.

He fucked her hard and fast, keeping her pressed against the water jet with his fingers digging into her hips. “Come for me, my sweet little slut,” he rumbled. “You know you want to come with me fucking your ass and that huge toy fucking your pussy.”

Libbie’s back arched as another orgasm shattered coherent thought. The pleasant, burning pinch of her pussy and ass being stretched only made the release feel that much better.

“There’s my good girl.” He took several more hard and deep strokes before his cock exploded inside her. Panting for breath and without withdrawing, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped onto his back with her resting against his chest. He reached down and turned the vibrator off, but didn’t withdraw it.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered. He nibbled the back of her neck. “Good?”

“Uh-huh!”

“I could feel that thing vibrating inside you right through to my balls. I never thought I’d be able to hold on as long as I did. Holy crap.”