Ken gently laced his fingers through hers. "How are you feeling, though? Really."

"I'm okay. I don't think I'm up for a full repeat of last night, but I saved you guys a little energy."

Charles stretched out on his side. His c.o.c.k, growing stiffer, pressed against the seam of her a.s.s. "How much energy?" He nibbled on her shoulder.

"Maybe not raunchy-book-s.e.x energetic. Something a little closer to the milder scale."

Ken sucked her index finger into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, setting off a flurry of activity in her p.u.s.s.y. "We can do milder," he said when he released her finger from the wet heat of his mouth.

They rolled her onto her back. Charles deftly turned around and buried his face between her legs. When she moaned, Ken lightly nipped and sucked on her lower lip. "Does that feel good, baby?"

"Uh-huh!" She didn't know how Charles did it, but he managed to short-circuit the portions of her brain that controlled coherent speech and allowed her to speak in intelligible sentences. His tongue circled her c.l.i.t, flicking at it a few times before sucking it between his lips and starting the pattern over again.

It nearly drove her crazy with need. Her p.u.s.s.y ached, pulsing with each draw of his mouth.

"Is that good? How does it feel having him making that sweet c.l.i.t all swollen and tingly?" Ken whispered in her ear. His hand lazily moved from one breast to another, back and forth, teasing and tormenting her nipples and adding fire to her already soaked p.u.s.s.y.

"Uh-huh!"

He chuckled. "I think she's ready for some relief," he said to Charles.

Charles buried his face even deeper between her legs and redoubled his efforts, his tongue and lips moving faster until he slipped two fingers into her wet c.u.n.t and started finger-f.u.c.king her.

That sent her over the edge.

She moaned, her back arching as her o.r.g.a.s.m swept through her. With her eyes closed she rode the wave at the mercy of Charles until he was ready to let her stop.

When he finally lifted his face from between her legs, he sat up. Ken got up, and when he returned to her side, she realized he'd fetched condoms from where she'd stashed the remainders in the bedside table with her toys. He handed one to Charles and kept the other, showing it to her. "You have no idea what you do to us, do you, baby?"

Charles quickly had his rolled onto his c.o.c.k. The hot, engorged head pressed against her l.a.b.i.a. "She makes me lose my mind is what she does."

She moaned again as he slowly seated himself inside her p.u.s.s.y. Ken leaned in and sucked one nipple into his mouth while he played with the other with his hand.

Charles took long, slow strokes inside her, his blue eyes piercing through her. "Do you think you can come for me like this, baby?"

She wanted to. Lord how she wanted to. His attentions had left her c.l.i.t hot and swollen and still throbbing. He fell still, stopping with his c.o.c.k buried deep inside her. He licked his finger and started stroking her c.l.i.t with it.

She felt her muscles clench around his c.o.c.k. Both men were large, bigger than some of her toys but not monstrously so. It felt so good having a warm, pulsing c.o.c.k inside her instead of a plastic toy.

Libbie's eyes met his. If he just...doesn't...stop...

Another o.r.g.a.s.m hit her, not quite as strong as the first. When he felt her coming, he started f.u.c.king her again, harder, faster, rubbing against her c.l.i.t with every stroke. It drew out the ripples of pleasure bursting from her core as his c.o.c.k pounded her until Charles finally came.

She held on to his arms as he caught his breath, watching the way his chest moved, the sculpted muscles across his torso.

She loved everything about him. About them.

Realizing the L-word had just crossed her mind again, she quickly struck it from her thoughts.

Nope. Won't go there.

If she didn't admit it, she didn't feel it.

When Charles carefully withdrew, Ken moved to take his place while Charles headed for the bathroom. Ken sheathed his c.o.c.k in a condom and quickly filled her c.u.n.t with it, slowly stroking inside her. Charles returned from the bathroom and stretched out next to her with her head cradled in the crook of his arm.

"How do you want it, baby?" Ken softly asked, looking down at her. "Do you want one more, or are you worn out?"

She stroked his arms. "I want to watch you come."

She loved his smile. Their smiles. d.a.m.n, they were so much alike. He leaned forward and kissed her as he slowly made love to her. He took his time, and she felt the tension building in his body as he tried to hold back.

Libbie hooked her legs around his and met him stroke for stroke, their rhythm timed perfectly. He leaned in and kissed her as he picked up speed, until she felt his entire body stiffen when his c.o.c.k grew and swelled inside her.

He let out one last moan before falling still. Then he rested his forehead against her chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

She snuggled securely between them with a happy sigh. Can life get any sweeter?

The men were good to their word. While they didn't rudely invite themselves, she did ask them into her bed every night.

And every morning, the wake-up was fabulous.

The first weekend after their Halloween night tryst, Libbie barely made it out of bed Sunday or Monday. The men hadn't exaggerated when they said they were going to keep her well f.u.c.ked and well o.r.g.a.s.med.

She idly wondered if someone could die from too much pleasure before she decided she didn't want to know, even if they could.

I'd die happy, at least.

After a couple of weeks, the men relented in their morning accosting of her. She'd felt guilty that plenty of mornings they took the time to get her off at least once, yet didn't let her give them pleasure in return.

It wasn't uncommon for Ken to go back to sleep after Charles and Libbie got up to get a shower following their morning romps. She started getting down into the bakery a little later every morning, but with Charles there to help out, it didn't slow them down too much.

Unlike most autumns, time seemed to streak past, her pain and symptoms no longer the barometer of her life. During the times when her pain reached the point she had to retreat to bed earlier than usual at night, she had one or both of the men there beside her, even if only cuddling with her and watching TV.

One Tuesday evening, after a brutal cold snap had set in during the day and dropped the temperature twenty degrees between lunchtime and dark, she was curled in bed with Galileo and Ken, watching TV and dozing. Charles had left two hours before the bakery closed to go run a few errands for himself. When Charles left, Ken had come down to the bakery to pitch in and help close down for the day, even though she really didn't need him there.

Ken was perusing her Kindle, making cute little clucking and hmmm noises when a particular pa.s.sage gave him ideas. "You're sooo in trouble when you're feeling better," he teased when he finished reading one section. "I just saw something I want to try."

She snuggled tightly against his side. "Is it in a hot tub?"

He laughed. "No. Why?"

"I've always wondered what that's like. Or in a swimming pool. Or even the ocean. When I still had a gym membership, before I opened the bakery, I would go work out for a little while and then soak in the hot tub to help my muscles loosen up. I wish I could have one."

"Hmm."

"What's that hmm for?"

He shook his head and smiled down at her. "Nothing, baby. You just rest up and feel better."

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 a.s.s you can see it when she yawns. She's not afraid to loudly condemn people to h.e.l.l 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 ha.s.sle me or the guys?

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, despite a morning rush of 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 d.a.m.n 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 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s-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 s.l.u.t. It makes you a smart woman for seeing a golden opportunity. Lots of people are poly. It's not just something that happens in those s.e.xy 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 c.o.c.ked 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 c.r.a.p 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 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 "f.u.c.k me" under her breath, but couldn't be sure.