Page 31 of The Gift that Keeps On Giving

“We’re in love with you, Ruby.” Jesus. My heart feels like it’s bleeding inside my fucking chest. “We have been since college.”

Cameron presses his mouth to her temple. “We love you, angel.”

“Be with us. Finally,finallybe with us.”

For several, torturous seconds, she says nothing, until finally, her blue eyes flood with moisture, tears dripping down her cheeks as she blinks up at us. “W-we don’t have to say goodbye?”

“No,” I say firmly, wiping away her tears with my thumbs. “The three of us were never meant to say goodbye.”

“Good thing,” she whispers, pressing her damp cheek to my chest, tugging Cameron in behind her for a three-way embrace. “Because I think I avoided relationships, because I couldn’t have one with you. My men. I love you both, too. So much.”

I heave a sound, Cameron’s eyes closing like a man who has finally found peace.

“You’ll come to Connecticut, baby?” I rasp.

“If my men are there,” she whispers. “That’s where I belong.”

Epilogue

Three Years Later

Cameron

When the electronic gate rolls open and I see that Dean’s Maserati is already parked in Ruby’s driveway, I shake my head and laugh. This man has to commute to New York for work every morning, but somehow, he still manages to beat me here on Friday nights.

I pull my SUV into the circular driveway and cut the engine, looking up at the five-thousand-square-foot home where Ruby lives. At the start of our new lives together, she lived in the guest house on Polly and Dean’s property, but as the kids started to get older and more cognizant of their surroundings, we moved her into a much bigger place. She protested the size and opulence of the house, but we weren’t taking no for an answer.

This home might be considered grand, but it’s still less than what she deserves.

This house is a pittance when sheshouldhave the entire world at her feet.

Ruby Lang, love of our lives. Song of our souls. Keeper of the lust that dominates us both. Our mutual obsession. Our everything lives in this home. If it was possible to bring her the moon, that’s what we would do. Polly and Molly are blissfully happy, too, spending their afternoons in one another’s arms while the kids are at school. They even have girls’ nights out with Ruby once in a while. On those nights, we wait here impatiently for our wives to drop our mistress back off with a wine buzz and we tear into her like dogs, usually on the floor of the living room. Sometimes right here on the front lawn.

Needless to say, because we can’t go days on end without seeing her, we bring Ruby on vacations with our family, usually putting her up in a nearby hotel where Dean and I take frequent daily visits, not only making love to her, but making sure our angel is being pampered within an inch of her life.

We willneverget used to her, Dean and me.

We’re hornier for Ruby now than we were in college, which is saying something, considering we were hard for her 24/7 in those days…and the fervor only increases.

Sometimes, when I’m working in the studio, I have to stop what I’m doing and jerk off to the memories the three of us have made together. The nights of ecstasy she’s given us, although our nights alone have a special appeal, too. Dean has solo dates with Ruby on Mondays. I have alone time with her on Wednesday. And we both take Friday and Saturday. She reserves three nights a week for herself. To read.

We hate not seeing her, but we respect her privacy.

Ha.

That’s a bald-faced lie.

We track her phone and have surveillance set up here at the house and the bookstore, which has led to a whole host of problems.

As if to punctuate my point, the front door of the house bangs open and Dean marches Ruby down the front steps and across the driveway, throwing her face down over the black hood of his Maserati, yanking her tight black skirt up to her waist and exposing that delicious backside. Next, her red thong panties are pulled down to her ankles and he begins to spank her, roughly, with the flat of his hand, while she mewls.

I fumble for the overhead device that closes the privacy gate and press the button, cursing Dean for not double checking the property had been sealed. But then, all I can do is watch with rapt interest as a disheveled Dean, tie askew, punishes his little girl on the hood of his sports car, rolling down the driver’s side window, so I can listen to the sharp slaps and what’s being said. I’m pretty sure I know what this is about.

“I’m starting to think you wear short skirts to work to make me fucking crazy, Ruby,” Dean grunts through his teeth, the swats of her ass echoing across the yard.

Yup. It’s exactly what I suspected.

While in work today, I had the bookstore surveillance feed open on my phone, as usual, and witnessed the increasing—and insufferable—flow of male clientele with my own two eyes. The major drawback of having a secret relationship is other men not knowing Ruby is taken. When she’s home, she wears two fat diamond rings on her left hand. She can’t wear them in Sip and Flip, however, so every man with a working cock tries to get her number. Or ask her out on a date. Needless to say, it’s a source of contention. Doesn’t matter that Ruby is one thousand percent committed to us and vice versa. We’re still jealous motherfuckers.

---