Tate kissed her forehead. “If your dad fired all three of us tomorrow and we had to go work at a fast food restaurant, I’d still want to be with you, to love you, to protect you. Let us take care of you. Don’t fight us.”
Doug smiled at her. “Besides, it was only thirty swats. We would have stopped at twenty, but Gorden asked for an additional ten for his aggravation.”
She laughed. It’d felt like a lot more, but then again, she’d been too busy howling like a scalded cat and trying to get away to keep count.
“There’s our girl,” Tate said. “Now lay back. Good girls get rewarded.”
She relaxed as Tate kissed her and Doug resumed his plundering of her exposed southern region. He slipped two then three fingers into her pussy, finding and rubbing her G-spot and bringing her close to coming. When he leaned in and licked her clit, she exploded, her muscles contracting around his fingers.
“That’s our good girl,” Tate said. “Let him make you feel good.”
Good? That was the understatement of the year. Doug didn’t bother removing his clothes. He sat up, unfastened his slacks, and pushed them and his briefs down past his hips. He was almost inside her when he stopped. “Fuck. Condom.” He started to withdraw to get one, but Harper hooked her legs around his and shook her head at him.
They’d discussed this, but she’d never been sure of a timeline.
Now, she was.
The men froze. “Are you sure, sweetie?” Tate softly asked.
She looked at him and nodded again.
Doug leaned in and kissed her as he slowly sank his cock home. She wrapped her legs around his hips, thrusting to meet him, wanting to feel him come inside her. She stroked his back, her fingers slipping on the fabric of his shirt as she met each stroke.
It didn’t take him long. She didn’t care that she couldn’t come with him, either. As he lowered his head and kissed her, she pulled Tate close, kissed him, then nudged the two of them together to kiss.
She loved to watch them kiss.
“You next,” she whispered to Tate.
Doug rolled out of the way, and at least Tate managed to get his pants all the way off before he plunged his stiff cock into her. He didn’t last long either, but cradled in Doug’s arms, she didn’t care. She suspected this time wouldn’t lead to her getting pregnant, because it was too close to the end of her month.
But it never hurt to practice.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Harper surveyed the large dining room table. When she couldn’t remember where they’d ended up, Doug and Tate had spent the better part of an hour scouring the house for the two extra leaves to put in it to expand it to its full length. They were forgoing the formality of dishes in exchange for paper plates. By her last head count, they would have at least twenty people for Thanksgiving dinner.
It would be a fantastic holiday. The GAO audit had come out successfully, as they knew it would. The Tribune follow-up story had made no mention of Harper’s personal life, especially after the glowing Times story. A day filled with all her “family,” blood kin and otherwise. Football on the TV, and freshly baked pumpkin pies on the counter.
All’s well that ends well.
Harper did another count of chairs. They’d bought some folding chairs to fill in, and seating would be tight, but hopefully everyone would fit.
Food wouldn’t be a problem. Between Olivia, Sarah, and Tate’s mom, Natalie, bringing dishes of their own, they’d have enough food to feed an army.
Tate walked in with three paper-mache centerpieces. “I’ve got the turkeys,” he announced proudly. He’d insisted on decorating the house, and she couldn’t refuse him. He was so cute. Doug had taken over the bulk of the cooking duties.
“You are a turkey.” She took one from him and put it in the middle of the table. This was the first time she’d ever had people over to her house for a holiday dinner. She playfully bumped him with her hip.
“Yeah, he is that,” Doug said from the doorway with an amused smile.
Tate stuck his tongue out at him. “Says you, ya big gobbler.”
Doug grabbed his crotch. “I’ve got a gobbler for you right here.”
Harper was already nervous about hosting everyone at their house. Her father. Gorden, Olivia, and their kids and the kids’ dates if they had one. Carl, Sarah, Eileen, Tina, and Tina’s boyfriend. Natalie and Jordan Gillis, Tate’s parents, and Tate’s three brothers and a sister. “Guys, please?”
The men hugged her. Tate pulled a small, wrapped jewelry box out of his back pocket. “We’ve got you an early Christmas gift,” he said as he handed it to her.
Her heart pounded. “A ring?”
“Open it,” Doug said.
She did, with trembling fingers. Inside lay a beautiful gold bracelet with a small tag attached. When she read the tag…
She looked at them. “Seriously?”
Doug laughed. “It was Tate’s idea.” He took the medical alert bracelet out of the box and fastened it around her left wrist. Then he kissed her. “Hey, we love you, and what if something happens when we’re not around? Especially now.”
She frowned. “Especially now what?”
Tate laughed. “Oh, come on. Give it a rest. Your period is two weeks late this month. You rode us hard nearly every freaking night last month. You do the damn math.”
She blushed. She didn’t think they’d noticed she was late. She was too worried to jinx it in case she wasn’t pregnant yet, didn’t want to say anything unless she knew for sure.
Doug turned when he heard a car outside. “Go take her upstairs and get it over with,” he told Tate. “I’ll stall whoever our first guests are.”
Tate started leading her up the stairs, but she balked. “Get what over with? We can’t go sleeping together right now!”
Tate laughed. “You dirty-minded little girl. We grabbed one of those home pregnancy kits at the store last night when we ran out for last-minute stuff. Come on.” He brooked no resistance and marched her up to their bathroom, where he handed her the box.
Her hands trembled, and she handed it back to him. “I’m too nervous. Read it to me. Tell me what to do.”
* * * *
When they got back downstairs, Gorden and his family were already there. Doug tried to get with them to find out the result, but kept getting sidetracked by Olivia wanting to help in the kitchen.
Harper was about to just blurt it out to Doug when her dad walked through the door. She couldn’t help it. She burst into tears and flung herself into his arms.
The room went silent as Harrison frowned and everyone looked at Harper, who was now sobbing in her father’s embrace. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” He glared at Tate and Doug, who’d heard the commotion and rushed out of the kitchen into the foyer. He held Harper at arm’s length. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong…Grandpa.”
THE END
WWW.TYMBERDALTON.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tymber Dalton lives in southwest Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”), son, and too many pets. She loves to hear from readers! Please feel free to drop by her website and sign up for her newsletter to keep abreast of the latest news, views, snarkage, and releases. (Don’t forget to look up her writing alter egos Lesli Richardson, Tessa Monroe, and Macy Largo!)
Also by Tymber Dalton
Ménage Amour: Deep Space Mission Corps 1: Love at First Bight
Ménage Amour: Deep Space Mission Corps 2: Bightmares
For all other titles, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/tymber-dalton
For titles by Tymber Dalton
writing as Lesli Richardson
www.bookstrand.com/lesli-richardson
For titles by Tymber Dalton
writing as Tessa Monroe
www.bookstrand.com/tessa-monroe
For titles by Tymber Dalton
writing as Macy Largo
www.boo
kstrand.com/macy-largo
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Dalton, Tymber - Contractual Obligation (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 21
