Texas Tangle (26 page)

Nikki shuddered as Dillon slowly withdrew and Brett’s cock jerked inside her behind, the delicious hot pain both torture and ecstasy. She’d never felt so full, so alive. And it wasn’t just because she was filled both front and back, but everything about them being together. It was the heat surrounding her both back and front, the way Brett buried his face into her neck, his body shaking from need. The glazed look in Dillon’s eyes as he stared at her—adoration, lust, love.

He’d been so sweet, the way he’d kept checking every two seconds as Brett had invaded her ass, so worried that they were hurting her. Didn’t he realize the whole time every inch of her was ablaze? When Brett had stroked the front of her passage, she was sure she was about to explode.

Dillon caught her mouth with his and slowly buried himself inside her again in a long, slow glide. Sandwiched between the two of them, all she could do was feel. Feel Brett’s warm breath as he kissed the side of her neck, feel his strength as he gripped her hips, the crisp hair of his legs rough against the back of her thighs. The softness of Dillon’s lips compared to the harsh beard rasping her chin, his chest hair chafing her sensitive nipples while his belly rippled against hers.

Her hands clutched the bedding when Brett drew back while Dillon thrust in. Then they reversed, Dillon withdrawing while Brett buried his entire cock within her ass again. Both men groaned as her body tightened around him, trying to hold him inside.

As if they had coordinated their lovemaking, they alternated, one slipping in as the other slid out. Her body constantly clutching at them, attempting to adjust for being empty on one side and full on the other and then it all reversing again until her brain couldn’t keep up. Her body reacted on instinct, accepting their dual invasion, reveling in being possessed by two men who cared so deeply for her, for each other, that they could put aside their egos and their needs to satisfy her.

Brett’s hand left her hip and cupped her breast, squeezing her nipple until she hovered on the brink of her climax. Her whole body quivering, she pressed her breast into Brett’s hand, angled her hips to accept them both deeper.

“Do you like this, baby?” Brett whispered in her ear, his breath sending a ribbon of need skittering down her neck, over her breasts. He surged deeper. Stars sparkled at the back of her eyes and her hips surged back to meet him.

“Yes, oh, God, yes. It feels so good. I want this every night.”

Both men stilled, and she realized what she’d said. Every night. Had they taken that as her agreement to their suggestion? No, she couldn’t let them think that. The whole proposal was so insane. “I mean, I’m…enjoying this.”

Dillon’s hand joined Brett’s on her hips. The two of them quickened their pace; neither had the breath left to speak. The onslaught of their possession of her drove her over the edge.

She didn’t have the air in her lungs to scream. She couldn’t even gasp her release as her orgasm exploded in a violent wave. When she thought she couldn’t come any harder, any longer, Dillon slid a hand between them. He didn’t even have to press; just the simple touch of one finger as it slipped through her folds set her on fire. Her eyes could no longer see, but her pussy felt the thick length of his shaft pulse, felt the heat of Brett’s come through the latex as he spilled his release at the same time.

Minutes later, they lay in a sweaty heap, arms and legs tangled together. Dillon stroked Nikki’s shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “You and Brett get some more sleep, Nik.” He kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

She nestled into Brett’s embrace, listening to the water running as Dillon showered, squinting against the dim light of the bathroom as he dressed. She could wake up like this every morning. Surrounded by the two men she loved and who loved her.

Dillon was almost to the door when she raised her head and looked over Brett’s shoulder. “Dillon? Do you really think this would work? The three of us?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How can you be so sure? It would make things so complicated.”

He shrugged. “There’s nothing complicated about it. It’ll work because we want it to work. We love you, Nik. You love us. That’s all we need.”

It couldn’t be that simple. Nothing in life was that simple. Nothing in her life had been simple anyway.

As they listened to Dillon’s truck start up outside, Brett pulled her head back to his chest. “He’s right, Nik. We can make it work if you’d trust us.”

Chapter Sixteen

Day by day, another of Brett’s belongings found its way from his place to Dillon’s. First his shaving gear appeared beside Dillon’s in the bathroom. A few days later, his shirts and jackets and uniforms filled a rod on the walk-in closet. Then his books, both fiction and procedural, crowded the shelves as if they’d stood there for years.

She had to admit she enjoyed lounging around in the evening with Dillon and waking up with Brett in the morning. She prized the time she spent with both of them, both in the bedroom and out of it. Never in her life had she felt so treasured, so loved.

We can make it work if you trust us
, Brett had said.

She did trust them, but what they suggested was so…huge that saying yes, actually saying it out loud, was impossible.

Two weeks after they’d first proposed the arrangement, Dillon caught Nikki at the waist and swung her onto his lap at the kitchen table. “Hey, Brett? Are you hungry?”

Brett leaned against the counter and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. Even with the top button of his jeans undone and his chest bare, he had an air of danger about him. Or maybe she was confusing danger with the wolfish quality he brought to their bedroom some nights. “Yup, I could do with a bite.”

“After that lunch your mom made?” Nikki poked Dillon in the belly. “Where do you keep all that food? How do you not weigh three hundred pounds?”

She paused when she caught the look between them. “You’re not talking about meat and potatoes, are you?”

“Nope.” Nuzzling her throat, Dillon slid his hands beneath her top. “I’m thinking I’m hungry for some dessert. Maybe a little Nikki à la mode.”

Giggling, she jumped off his lap and raced for the back door, the wooden screen door slamming behind her. “You’ve got to catch me first.”

She’d barely made it to the first step off the porch before Brett snatched her from her feet with a chuckle. “Looks like we’ve got some fast food here, Dill.”

Her breath escaped softly when he caught her mouth with his. Dillon stepped behind her, his hands once again beneath her top, stroking her breasts. When her knees gave way, she sagged against him, giving in to the sensation of both men pleasuring her under the warmth of the October sun.

Her hands sought a path down Brett’s chest to his unbuttoned fly. They’d just delved beneath the denim when a throat cleared from the path a half-dozen feet away.

It took a moment for her to recognize Tiny, considering he wasn’t wearing his uniform. He took off his baseball cap and turned it in his hands, looking everywhere except at them.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He frowned and hitched a thumb toward his battered pick-up. “I figured you’da heard me drive up.”

Nikki jerked her hands away from Brett’s fly and clutched them to her stomach only to realize Dillon’s hands were still beneath her blouse. A whimper escaped her as she frantically searched for some way to explain that Tiny hadn’t seen what he’d seen, but realized it was already too late. He’d seen them. All three of them.

Let the earth open up and swallow her now.

“Breathe,” Dillon whispered. He slid his hands from underneath Nikki’s top and put himself between her and their visitor, while Brett turned away and fumbled with the buttons of his fly. “What can we do for you, Tiny?”

“I just dropped in to see if Brett wanted to go to the shootin’ range with me.” Tiny cleared his throat twice while bright red flags of color appeared high in his cheeks. “I, uh, guess not. See you later, Brett.”

Brett rubbed her shoulders as she stood on the porch watching Tiny drive away. “He won’t say anything to anyone, Nik. Don’t worry.”

“But he saw us fooling around. All three of us.” Reaching up to her shoulder, she clutched Brett’s hand. “He knows. I know you believe he won’t tell anyone, but suppose he does?” Thank God Tiny hadn’t arrived five minutes later. She’d been that close to going down on Brett, and Dillon probably would have gone down on her at the same time. “Even if he doesn’t, you still have to work with him. How will you be able to face him after this?”

How would
she
be able to face him again without turning beet red? Aw hell, he’d probably tell the guys in the police department, and she’d not be able to go into town again without everyone knowing.

Brett turned her to face him, then cupped her jaw and lifted it so she couldn’t look away. “He won’t say anything. And he won’t judge either of us. There’s no reason to panic. Trust me.”

Dillon hitched a hip onto the railing. “This is your home, Nik. You can kiss who you want without having to explain yourself to anyone.”

Brett leaned down to brush a kiss over her cheek. “As long as it’s one of us you’re kissing.”

Shaking her head, she pulled away. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Without thinking about it, she headed to the barn.

“Nik—” Dillon started after her.

She faced him, holding up her hand to stop him. “No. Don’t. Just…just give me some space, okay? I have to think about this.”

Though they didn’t say a word, they followed her to the barn and watched her saddle Bashir. She couldn’t look at them as she swung onto his back and rode away from the barn, leaving them behind.

Bashir sensed her impatience and soon, they were galloping across Dillon’s land. A check over her shoulder showed Dillon and Brett standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the barn door, watching but not following.

What was she doing? Had she just made her decision?

When she reached the section of fence they’d cut to let her animals through, she climbed down and unlatched the gate they’d put there in its place. She ran her hand along the steel. They’d worked so hard to help her. Both of them had helped her day and night, mucking out the stalls, feeding and exercising her horses.

More telling, they’d been concerned about
her
. Cared for her. Both of them had been more concerned than Phil or Wade had ever been. Or in all honesty, more concerned than her parents had been. Not only this past year, but when they found out Wade had been fooling around on her and her marriage was faltering. Or even when she’d lost the baby.

So why was she having such a hard time accepting their solution?

What was that saying about having her cake and eating it too? Damn it, that’s what living with both of them was—an indulgence. They were a chocolate fudge brownie with whipped cream on top. She sure as hell loved the combination, even though she knew it would take one helluva lot of sweat in the barn to work off the calories.

She had no doubt they loved her, and she loved them equally in return. But was she being greedy holding them both to her, instead of letting them find someone they deserved? Someone who could give them kids of their own? Despite Dillon’s protests that adoption would be fine with him, she longed to give him golden-skinned, dark-haired babies that looked just like him. Though Brett had worried about passing his father’s genes on, with the right woman to encourage him, he’d be a great father.

The doctors had assured her that while getting pregnant might be easy enough, staying pregnant was a long shot. Neither of them should settle for damaged goods. They deserved better than her.

So why couldn’t she give them an answer? The
yes
she longed to give them, or the flat-out
no
they needed to set them back on the right path.

With a sigh, she swung back into the saddle and urged the gelding through the thigh-high weeds. She pressed Bashir to jump the stream trickling through the middle of the property. His tongue hanging to one side, Rascal splashed through the water behind them.

Once they were in the main pasture she dismounted and headed to the front of the house. Her boots echoed on the worn planks as she approached the front door, Rascal’s nails clicking on the wood behind her. Once she opened the door, he shoved past her. Nose to the carpet, he snuffled and snorted following unseen paths while she wandered through the deserted rooms.

In the few weeks she’d lived at Dillon’s she had more happy memories than she did here. Wade had never lain beside her on the couch and cuddled late at night. Most nights he’d fallen asleep in the chair. The nights he
had
come home. How many times had she gone to bed alone, wondering where he was?

She wandered into the kitchen. She ran a finger along the counter, remembering the dinners she’d prepared, trying not to remember how many she’d eaten alone. Wade had never laid her flat on the kitchen table and made love to her the way Dillon had.

Had this house ever been more than a shell? A place to shelter her from the rain and the storms and the heat? Had it ever been a home?

Once. For a short time.

She walked to the picture window, remembering her excitement choosing the fabric for the curtains she’d made right after they’d been married.

She stopped at the door of her office, the room she’d originally chosen to be the baby’s room. Those first few months of their marriage, she’d spent a lot of time in this room, painting it, picking out baby furniture, dreaming of holding a baby in her arms. A week after she’d discovered she may never have another child, she’d insisted Wade paint it from the soft pink it had been to a dark green, wiping any trace of her hopes for motherhood from her life.

“Are they good memories or bad?” Mrs. Barnett asked quietly from the far end of the hall.

“Both.” She’d heard a car drive up and the front door open, but was surprised it wasn’t Dillon or Brett. And relieved.

Using the boot of her toe, she nudged a box of papers she and Brett had packed. She’d already salvaged her notes on her horses, the vet bills, their blood lines. The rest of this was…trash. Like so many of her dreams from when she’d moved in. “How did you know to look for me here?”