It's a Sweet Life

Chapter Fourteen

Charles and Ken both grew adept at baking and decorating pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies as Thanksgiving approached and people got their orders placed. Libbie sold them both fresh and frozen.

Admittedly, it was nice having two extra sets of hands instead of just one. It meant that even on her bad days, her fatigue wasn’t as bad.

And apparently a cleaning fairy had started taking care of her apartment. She’d go up for lunch to find the kitchen clean, the litter pan scooped, laundry clean and folded on the bed, and other things.

Neither man would own up to it, but she loved them even more for the care.

For her part, she didn’t ask for a discussion of “the future,” which she thought about as a vague, hopefully nonexistent theoretical event that would never arrive. Neither man ever spoke about leaving despite only having a six-month lease.

And Grover invited all three of them to come to his house for Thanksgiving dinner, although he did give her a caveat. “You might want to warn your men that Derrick’s mother-in-law has a stick wedged so far up her ass you can see it when she yawns. She’s not afraid to loudly condemn people to Hell when she don’t even know them.”

Libbie had never met the woman, but had heard stories about her.

She felt sorry for Derrick, but at least the woman lived in Atlanta and they didn’t have to put up with her most of the time.

I wonder how many other people out there will hassle me or the guys?

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, despite a morning rush of It’s a Sweet Life 143

people picking up special orders, the customers slowed down to a trickle by ten. She’d shooed Charles out of the bakery because she’d overheard him discussing with Ken that he had an errand to run, and they were caught up on the daily list.

She also felt the urge to talk. Inside the bakery, she sometimes felt protected from the big, bad outside world. She didn’t have a lot of socializing other than with Grover and his family, and Mandaline and Sachi and a few others at Many Blessings. None of them gave a damn about Libbie’s unconventional arrangement.

And what kind of future do we have? The longer they went without talking about it, the more she worried about admitting to the men how she felt. Neither had yet to utter the L-word. Then again, neither had she. Did they see this as a fling that would end when the lease was up, or were they waiting to say anything until she did first?

Or would she admit how she felt and get her heart shot down in the process?

Still, Grover’s gentle but serious comments once again reminded her that yes, she had a fantasy come true, but it was one that most of her community might seriously frown upon. And one that could easily lead her to a shattering heartbreak that would make her divorce feel like a splinter in comparison to a serious bodily impalement.

I wonder what Mandaline’s doing. She called out to Grover, “I’ll be back in a few,” and headed out the door.

Apparently, Libbie’s shop wasn’t the only one in town having a slow day. When she walked across the square, she found Mandaline and Sachi were the only ones in the New Age shop.

“Hey,” Mandaline greeted her when she walked in. “How you doing?”

“Do you have a few minutes?” Libbie asked. “To talk?”

A small furrow momentarily appeared in Mandaline’s brow before her skin smoothed again. “Sure. Let’s go in back. Sachi, can you watch the store for me?”

Sachi, who was engaged with an amethyst rune set, didn’t look 144 Tymber Dalton

up. She waved her hand at the empty storefront. “Sure. It’s packed in here and you want to goldbrick.”

Libbie didn’t miss the smile on her face.

Mandaline laughed. “When’s your client coming?”

Sachi glanced at the clock on the wall. “Two hours. You have plenty of time. I’ll holler if we get an early Black Friday rush in here.” She snorted.

Mandaline led Libbie through a beaded curtain and down a short hallway to a small private room. A tall, antique iron floor lamp with an imitation Tiffany glass lampshade stood in one corner and cast warm light through the room. A short bookshelf on one wall held many tomes new and old, mostly concerning New Age and mystical topics.

Mandaline indicated Libbie take a seat at one of the two chairs at the small, round table, which was covered with a fringed tablecloth in swirling rust and turquoise patterns. Before Mandaline sat, she turned to a white, antique cabinet behind her, which had glass-front doors.

From the top shelf, her finger paused over several different small boxes before she chose one and removed it. When Mandaline turned back to the table, Libbie saw the box was a Tarot deck.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me a reading,” Libbie said.

Mandaline waved her objections away. “For you, no charge. And since you’re looking for an ear and advice, the best advice I can give you comes from here.” She tapped the deck’s box with an unpolished fingernail. “You strike me as a Celtic Dragon Tarot kind of soul.”

Mandaline removed the cards from the box and smoothly shuffled them with practiced fingers. “So talk to me, girlie.”

Libbie had a hard time taking her eyes off the cards quickly flowing through her friend’s fingers. “You…” She lowered her voice.

“You have two guys.”

A sultry smile curled Mandaline’s lips. “Yeesss. It doesn’t make you a slut. It makes you a smart woman for seeing a golden opportunity. Lots of people are poly. It’s not just something that It’s a Sweet Life 145

happens in those sexy books you read.” She set the deck on the table in front of Libbie. “Cut it.”

Libbie reached out, hesitating only briefly before pinching the deck partway down and moving the top stack beside the lower half.

Mandaline quickly reached out with the speed of a Vegas pit boss and scooped the cards up, regrouping them into one pile with the cut lower deck on top. She pulled the top card and flipped it right-side up, laying it on the tablecloth in front of Libbie.

The bottom of the card read Three of Cups. On it, a dragon stared at three chalices in what appeared to be shallow water.

Libbie looked up and saw Mandaline grinning ear to ear.

“What?”

“In this deck, this card usually signifies prosperity, good times on the horizon.” Her grin broadened. “Three of Cups? Seriously? Three?

Do you not see the significance?”

Libbie felt her face flush. “It’s just one card,” she mumbled.

Mandaline cocked her head to one side “Are you looking for permission to be in a triad? Because you don’t need it from me or anyone else.”

“I don’t know what I want or what I’m looking for.” Her gaze fell to her lap, where she twisted her hands in the hem of her T-shirt. “All I know is the thought of losing them breaks my heart. And it scares the crap out of me that I’m this much in love with them this soon when I barely know them. And I can’t even tell them.”

“Can’t, or won’t because you’re worried what they might or might not say?”

She didn’t answer, but she stared at Mandaline.

Her friend’s smile faded. “We all have to take chances. That’s what separates us from those who’ve moved on to the Summerland.

Or Heaven. Or Valhalla or reincarnation or take your pick of hereafters.”

“I don’t know what I believe.”

“Then all the more reason to take chances in this life, no? If we’re 146 Tymber Dalton

all wrong and it’s only one time around this existence followed by a forever dirt nap, we shouldn’t waste a moment of it worrying about what others think of us as long as we aren’t harming anyone else in the process.”

She flipped over another card and placed it, faceup, next to the first.

The bottom read 8 - Strength. On it, a woman in a yellow dress caressed the chin of a large, orange dragon while several smaller dragons gathered around her feet.

Mandaline let out an amused snort. Libbie thought she muttered “fuck me” under her breath, but couldn’t be sure.

“What?” she asked.

“In this deck, Strength means you should use your intuition. Have the courage to take a stand and follow through with it, basically.”

Mandaline lifted her gaze to Libbie’s. “We can do this all day, but I can already tell you what the cards will keep saying.”

“What?”

“Shit or get off the pot.” She grinned and turned the Strength card over so its back was visible. The background of the card was a marbled light grey, with a round, pewter-colored symbol in the middle. Three stylized animals surrounded a center of three spirals.

“What’s that?” Libbie asked.

“It’s a type of triskele,” Mandaline said. “Tri. Three.” All that was missing was the audible duh. “Why are you afraid to let this happen?”

Mandaline asked.

Libbie finally blurted it out. “Because my ex lied to me and cheated on me. I ended up divorcing him, and just the thought of both of them lying to me breaks my heart. How do I survive it if they really do it?”

Libbie didn’t miss Mandaline’s sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.

You don’t know they’ll lie to you and break your heart,” she gently said. “You really don’t. You’re painting them with your ex’s sins when they haven’t done anything to earn your mistrust. Have they?”

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Libbie tried not to think about how they never really talked in great detail about their past. How they always managed to distract her from the topic with other topics…or really good, hot, raunchy sex.

And her mind flashed back to the Florida tag on the back of their truck and the troubling, niggling thought in her mind that maybe they weren’t telling the truth about that. That she never remembered seeing a Nebraska plate on the truck, front or back.

Then again, she couldn’t be sure, either. Especially not with how bad her fibro fog had been lately. Hell, there were mornings, literally, she awoke with no idea of what day it was.

“No,” Libbie finally admitted. “They’ve been nothing but sweet.”

“Want one more?” Mandaline asked, tapping the deck with her finger.

Libbie shrugged.

Mandaline flipped over the next card and laid it before Libbie.

Two dragons flew over a beach, each holding a wand. The third wand was stuck in the sand below them. The bottom of the card read Three of Wands.

The women’s eyes met. Mandaline arched an eyebrow.

“Tell me,” Libbie finally said.

“Good planning creates success. Possible partnerships.” She smiled. “It’s no coincidence it’s a three. Did you know a tripod is one of the most stable structures there are?”

“All right, all right already. I get the picture.”

Mandaline covered Libbie’s hand with hers and waited until she met her gaze. “Take a chance,” Mandaline softly said. “If nothing else, the endorphin rush you’ll get from really great, raunchy sex with those two hunks will help your fibro for a while.”

“What helps me if they break my heart?”

Mandaline’s expression softened. “We will all help you then. You have way more friends in this community than you realize. But I really think that’s not going to be an issue. I’ve seen the way they look at you, and the lust and love in their eyes has nothing to do with 148 Tymber Dalton

your fabulous red velvet cakes.” She gently squeezed Libbie’s hand again. “Look, you remember how I was totally the queen of the commitmentphobes. Between cheats and liars and jerks who pretended to give a damn about my beliefs, just to turn around and throw them in my face later. If I can empty and get rid of my baggage, so can you. It’s all going to be okay.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“The cards don’t lie.”

“I love you, Mandaline, but you know I’m not…” She didn’t know how to finish that statement without hurting her friend’s feelings.

“I know you don’t follow the same path I do. That’s okay. But as one friend to another, don’t sit on your butt and think about what might have been because that’s the safer, albeit more depressing option to actually living your life.”

Grover was taking care of smoking three turkeys, as well as a brisket, a ham, and who knew how many other delectable meats.

Libbie had been assigned to bring desserts and dinner rolls for the Johnson brood’s annual Thanksgiving bash, the total headcount of which would likely top fifty people.

Grover never turned anyone away from holiday dinners. It wasn’t uncommon for one or more of the kids to bring an “orphaned” friend or two with them for dinner, someone who had no other place to go and knowing there would be more than enough food for all, in addition to their own significant other. Jenny and her two sons would also be in attendance, liable to receive an early visit from Santa Claus.

Although Santa would be black and sound like Grover behind the red suit and fake beard.

Libbie had awakened stiff and sore—due to her fibro and not a vigorous fucking—a little after seven Thanksgiving morning. It didn’t It’s a Sweet Life 149

help that an early frost had also dipped the temperatures down to near freezing and left a thin layer of ice on the men’s truck and her car, even under the protection of the carport.

Both men took one look at her and ordered her to go soak in the tub and leave all the car loading to them. Charles brought her coffee and a naproxen, while Ken prepared a bowl of Cream of Wheat for her to eat in the tub. She couldn’t hear exactly everything going on, but heard the men making several trips in and out of the downstairs door, and the sound of things being loaded into the back of their truck.

They were bringing what few folding chairs they had, as well as the folding tables, to help seat everyone at the feast.

By eight, Libbie had worked the worst of the kinks and stiffness out of her body. The men were downstairs when she got out of the tub, pulled on her robe, and made her way into the kitchen.

Two envelopes with her name on them sat propped up on the counter.

Her hands shook as she opened the first one, which turned out to be from Ken. The outside read On Our First Thanksgiving. Tears welled up in her eyes as she read his inscription inside.

May this be the first of many more together. — K.

No, not a declaration of love, but wasn’t looking toward the future a good sign?

She opened the card from Charles, which had a funny picture on the front of a turkey doing an imitation of a lamp while a farmer carrying an ax searched for it in the kitchen.

I’ll never get tired of gobbling you, babe. — Charles.

She snorted with laughter, then felt badly that she hadn’t thought to get either man a card. She’d been fairly busy with the bakery and preparing Thanksgiving orders and it’d slipped her mind.

When the men returned to her apartment a short while later, she hugged them both. “Thank you for the cards.” She kissed them. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you two cards.”

“It’s all right,” Ken said.

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“You’ve been busy,” Charles added.

“We just wanted to show you how special you are to us.”

“If it wasn’t for the fact I know I wouldn’t want to go to Grover’s after if we did, I’d show you how special you are to me right now.”

“We’ll take a rain check,” Charles said.

“Until tonight,” Ken said with a deliciously wicked smile.

Fortunately, Libbie already knew most of the people in attendance at Grover’s house. Otherwise, she would have felt completely overwhelmed by the number of people. As it was she spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, helping keep the food moving and washing up dishes.

Some of the family gathered in the living room in front of Grover’s large TV to watch football. Some went outside to play a version of the real thing in Grover’s enormous backyard.

“So are the Cornhuskers playing today?” she asked Ken on one of his many trips through to check on her.

She didn’t understand the momentary confusion on his face. “Oh.

Oh, um, I’m not a big football fan.”

“I thought it was mandatory if you lived in Nebraska to follow football.”

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Only if you follow football in the first place.” Before she could figure that out, he left the kitchen.

She got busy and didn’t have time to question him about it later.

It was nearly dark. Most of the people had left, but Libbie refused to leave the kitchen, insisting she didn’t want to leave Grover with a ton of cleanup to do. Charles and Ken had been gently hinting to her for over two hours they thought she’d pushed herself too far, but she kept waving them off.

It was only when Grover himself walked into the kitchen and took the dishtowel from her that she finally listened. He placed his hands It’s a Sweet Life 151

on her shoulders and marched her out of the kitchen to where Charles and Ken awaited in the living room.

“Take her home and make her rest,” Grover told them.

“But there’s still dishes to do!” she protested.

He crossed his arms over his massive chest and stared down his nose at her. “Listen here, you go home and you rest. You’re worn out.

Now, git.”

Knowing he wouldn’t be swayed, she let the men lead her out to her car where Ken drove her home, followed by Charles in their truck with the folding tables in back.

They made her take a hot bath while they unloaded the truck. By the time they returned upstairs, she realized they’d been right to make her leave Grover’s. She only had a little energy left.

And she knew exactly how she wanted to expend it.

Charles helped her out of the tub. “See? You need to listen to us.

We can tell when you’re exhausted.”

“At least I don’t have to open the shop tomorrow.” On Black Friday, she didn’t leave her apartment unless it was an emergency.

She did a lot of her holiday shopping online, or earlier in the season before the stores got crowded. She couldn’t handle the additional stress of driving in holiday traffic, negotiating crazy, full parking lots, and threading her way through massive throngs of people.

She wrapped the towel around her after drying off. She slipped her arms around Charles’ waist and tucked her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I know what I’d like to do now, though.”

She rose up on her toes to kiss him, thrilling at the way the hard bulge in the front of his jeans sprang to life.

His hands brushed down her back, to her ass, where he grabbed her and pulled her body tightly against his. “You sure you have the energy, baby?”

“Uh-huh. I saved enough for you two.”

She loved the way he kissed her. The cousins were so much alike, but just different enough. Charles was teasing and playful, always 152 Tymber Dalton

leaving her wanting more no matter how thoroughly he kissed her.

Ken was passion on two legs, even the lightest of kisses sometimes leaving her breathless and feeling like she’d just had the romp of her life.

Charles scooped her up into his arms. “Time to put you to bed, little baker.”

Ken called out from the kitchen. “She feeling frisky?”

“Yeah,” Charles called back as he carried her into the bedroom.

“She was trying to hump me in the bathroom.”

She lightly swatted his chest. “I was not.”

He dropped her onto the bed and met her gaze as he started unbuckling his belt. “You were ready to climb and ride me like a pony,” he teased.

He kicked off his sneakers and socks before he shoved his jeans down and off. The outline of his rigid cock pressed against the fabric of his briefs. They, too, joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He pulled his shirt off, leaving her sighing at the sight of the lean muscles rippling across his chest. He straddled her on the bed and pulled the towel away. Then Ken walked into the room.

“Starting without me?”

Charles leaned in and nibbled the hollow of her throat. “Yep. You don’t show up on time, you don’t get any.”

She poked him in the thigh. “Be nice. You have to share.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” he said. “But I’m not waiting on him, either.” His cock stood out hard and proud, a pearly drop of pre-cum already awaiting her tongue at the slit in the engorged head.

Ken laughed and started undressing. “I’m here, I’m here.”

She wrapped her fingers around the silky heat of his cock and gently tugged. “Come here and I’ll take care of something for you.”

He grinned and moved up her body so she could reach his cock with her mouth. When the head slid past her lips, both of them moaned, him at the sensation, and her at the taste and feel of his hot It’s a Sweet Life 153

flesh.

She felt the bed dip. Then Ken pushed her legs apart. “I know what’ll keep me busy.”

Libbie couldn’t help but moan again as Ken used his thumbs to spread her labia apart, exposing her clit to his eager mouth. He blew hot breath across it, teasing her and turning her eager moans into plaintive whines.

Charles shifted position again, giving him the angle he needed to take over and fuck her mouth. “Just lay there and take it, baby.” His voice sounded thick with need. “We’re going to do all the work for you.”

She relaxed her lips, flicking her tongue over his glans with every stroke. Charles knew exactly how deep to thrust without gagging her.

Soon, as Ken started sucking on her clit in earnest, Charles was fucking her mouth, his balls lightly bouncing against her chin with every stroke.

He reached for and found her hands, lacing his fingers through hers and pinning them to the bed over her head. That only served to ratchet her passion up another notch. They’d quickly learned how her body responded when they took total charge, pinning her to the bed and having their way with her.

She loved it.

Libbie imagined what she must look like, held down by two hunks and being both serviced and used without any say in the matter. It was that thought that triggered her first orgasm.

Charles leaned forward, his weight pressing her deeper into the bed as he quickened his pace. “That’s it, baby. Give him another one.

I want to shoot my cum down your throat while you’re screaming around my cock.”

His sexy tone was all it took to trigger the second one. And scream she did when Ken began finger-fucking her with two fingers as he lightly nipped her clit.

“Yes!” Charles let out a groan as his cock hardened against her 154 Tymber Dalton

tongue. He buried his cock deep inside her mouth, forcing her to swallow even as she tried to scream her pleasure.

Ken wouldn’t stop, however, forcing her body through wave after wave of pleasure. Charles’ cock softened and he withdrew, but he didn’t let go of her hands. “Take it, baby,” he hoarsely said. “Loud as you want. You take it from him. You take every bit of it.”

It felt like she floated free from her usual cloak of pain and fatigue as Ken stepped up his efforts, adding a third finger to her soaking cunt and slamming his hand against her pussy with each stroke even as his mouth tormented her swollen clit.

She rode yet another orgasm, startled midway when the men suddenly released her and changed position. She heard one of them yank the bedside table drawer open and rummage around. Charles knelt over her chest, his legs pinning her arms to the bed. Ken grabbed her legs and spread them farther apart.

She felt a condom-clad cock spear her core, making her gasp with pleasure.

Then she heard a click and didn’t have time to fully process it was the sound of the Hitachi firing up on high speed when Charles pressed it firmly against her clit.

Her world exploded. She let out a cry, unable to move as her cunt walls squeezed Ken’s cock.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “Don’t stop,” he told Charles. “Keep her coming.”

He fucked her hard and fast as her cries turned into sobs. They held her immobile and unable to escape the vibrator as wave after wave of blindingly intense ecstasy drilled through her body.

Charles used one hand to twist her nipples, triggering even more biting pleasure. “Take it, baby,” he ordered. “Keep coming for us.”

She gasped for air between her cries. The men had learned not only did she love it when they fucked her hard and deep, it didn’t hurt her. Their timidity had eased up, and they enjoyed forcing her to come until they were satisfied she’d had enough.

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“You love this, don’t you?” Ken asked, ramming his cock home.

“You love being our sweet plaything, don’t you? Poor Libbie, forced to come while being fucked. Poor, sweet girl.”

That only made her come harder, and they knew it was the result they’d get.

Ken could have been fucking her for minutes or days, she didn’t know. Her world shattered until all she could focus on was breathing through each intense wave of pleasure Charles forced her to take with the Hitachi.

He slung her legs over his shoulders and held on to her thighs.

“Take it deep, baby. Like you want to. Take my cock.”

Her fingers clawed at the bed, the only movement she could make besides thrashing her head back and forth. She felt utterly helpless and completely owned as he drove his cock into her.

Finally, she heard his tone of voice change, strained, holding back. “Get one more out of her,” he ordered Charles.

“With pleasure, bro.”

She let out a cry of agony and ecstasy combined as he twisted her right nipple harder than before and one more explosion ripped the breath from her lungs.

“That’s…it!” Ken rammed deep into her one last time and fell still, her and him both gasping for air.

Charles immediately climbed off her and shut down the Hitachi.

As she caught her breath, the crying started. Another thing they’d discovered sometimes happened after really intense lovemaking.

A good thing, cathartic.

Ken gently lowered her legs and pulled her up to cradle her in his arms. She sat there, still impaled on his softening cock while she shivered and cried against his chest.

“Shh, baby. We’re here. It’s all right.”

Charles sat behind her. He stroked her shoulders and back with tender caresses. “We’ve got you.”

It took her several minutes to regain her wits. When she did, she 156 Tymber Dalton

kissed Ken, deep and slow, then turned her head to kiss Charles. Both men’s blue eyes were filled with concern until she gave them a smile.

“Now I think I’m ready for bed.”

Both men smiled in return. “Not too much?” Ken asked.

She shook her head. “Nope. That was…” She sighed. “Fantastic.”

It wasn’t until both men had already fallen asleep, and she was quickly drifting into it herself, that she pondered the “bro” comment Charles had said.

Well, they are close. Sleep took over, driving all thoughts from her brain.

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