Sunset Hearts Read online

  “We just want to spoil you,” he softly repeated.

  “You have, and you do. Tell you what. Next Christmas, our first Christmas in our new house, we can go all-out nuts. Okay? But this is the first Christmas I’ve had in a long time where I won’t be alone or feel like I’m basically alone. To me, that’s the best gift I could ever hope for.”

  He nuzzled the top of her head. “All right.”

  * * * *

  Christmas Eve, the three of them cuddled together on the couch to watch movies and drink eggnog. Alan wore his Santa hat and boxers.

  Jerald begrudgingly wore his boxers, too.

  “Ooh, I like this,” Daphne said as her fingers snaked through the fly opening in the front of Jerald’s shorts. “Easy access.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Keep going. Don’t let me stop you.”

  “See?” Alan practically crowed. “Now aren’t you glad I got these?”

  Jerald rolled his eyes, but Daphne didn’t miss his playful smirk. She’d quickly grown used to Jerald’s tough guy exterior now that she knew the sweet, passionate man hiding behind the thick walls. She rolled off the couch and knelt between Jerald’s knees. He spread his legs, allowing her better access.

  She tugged his elastic waistband down until she could reach his now stiff cock. When she slipped it between her lips, he threw his head back and worked his hips in time with her movements.

  Alan leaned in and kissed him. “Jesus, I love watching her go down on you,” he hoarsely said.

  She reached over and grabbed Alan’s crotch through his boxers and found him ready for action. He didn’t need any further encouragement. He climbed off the couch and disappeared down the hall, returning a moment later. Without making her move, Alan lifted her T-shirt and pulled her panties down.

  “Are you wet for me, baby?” he asked as he pressed two fingers between her legs.

  Of course she was, she felt her thighs slick with her juices already, just from what she’d been doing to Jerald.

  Jerald wrapped her hair around his hands and lifted his head to watch Alan don a condom and slide his cock inside her pussy. “Holy fuck,” Jerald grunted. “Damn, that’s hot.”

  For her part, Daphne had lost herself in the sensation of having them both together like that, enjoyed belonging to them at the same time, connected as one sexually charged being. Alan pumped his cock into her, his hands holding her hips in place. In this position, he could take her deep and hard and stroke pleasurable places inside her his cock normally didn’t reach.

  She used one hand to palm Jerald’s sac, feeling the contrast of coarse hair and soft, warm skin, stroking the base of his cock with her other as her lips and tongue worked on the head. Each time he rewarded her with another taste of his salty pre-come she fought the urge to moan and wildly suck him hard and fast. She didn’t want the moment to end.

  Daphne rested her cheek against his rock hard thigh as she sucked him deep into her mouth. From his reaction, she knew he was close.

  Alan sensed it too. He slowed his thrusts and reached around her to finger her clit. “Come on, baby. Don’t tease me.”

  As close as she already was, it didn’t take but a few strokes from his hand to bring her over. Her eyes dropped closed as she deep-throated Jerald, triggering his climax. Ropes of hot, tangy come shot down her throat as Alan picked up the pace of his thrusts to catch up with them. He pulled out almost immediately, leaning over to kiss her back before he disappeared to the bathroom again.

  Jerald pulled her up to the couch with him, cuddled against his side as he stroked her hair and kissed her.

  She could easily lose herself in his eyes. It amazed her how one moment he could emotionally seem as hard as stone, then the next like this, open and vulnerable to her.

  “I love you so much, baby,” he whispered as he wrapped a strand of hair around his finger. “Merry Christmas.”

  She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Merry Christmas, tough guy.”

  Alan returned from the bathroom and cuddled on their other side. “Maybe next year I’ll tie a bunch of mistletoe to my cock. Get me a little more action.”

  The other two looked at him and burst out laughing. “You don’t need to resort to that to get my lips on your cock,” she teased.

  He leaned back and pulled his Santa hat down over his eyes. He wore a smug look. “I don’t know.”

  “You just got laid, you greedy bastard,” Jerald teased. “What more do you want?”

  “Been a while since I’ve been in the middle.”

  Daphne caught Jerald’s gaze. She didn’t miss how he rolled his eyes. He prompted her to stand up, then he hooked an arm around Alan and dragged him down into his lap. “Since when did you become a high maintenance kind of man?” Jerald playfully growled as he leaned in and kissed him.

  Alan wrapped his arms around Jerald’s neck and kissed him back. “I am not high maintenance,” he argued once Jerald lifted his head. “I’m just really enjoying having you around like this.” He pulled his hat away from his eyes. “I’m wondering what I’d have to do to talk you into retiring.”

  Daphne had settled on Alan’s other side, his legs draped across her lap as he lay across Jerald. She watched Jerald’s face transform from playful to guarded.

  “We don’t need to talk about that right now,” he grunted as he released Alan and leaned back against the couch.

  Alan started to argue, but Daphne reached out and patted his thigh, derailing him. “Why don’t we head for bed? We’ve got to get up early to cook that bird in the morning.”

  Jerald headed for the bedroom while Daphne helped Alan turn off the lights and gather their eggnog cups. She touched his arm and whispered, “Give the tough guy a break. One battle at a time. Let’s get through my trial and then work on him about retirement.”

  Alan smiled. “You’ve been paying attention.”

  She kissed him. “You’re a good teacher.”

  * * * *

  She awoke first the next morning. When she tried to slip out of bed from where she was snuggled between the two men, Alan grabbed her and hauled her back to him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled.

  “To start the coffee. And then the turkey.”

  “Who you calling turkey?” Jerald grumbled as he rolled over. He draped an arm around her, effectively pinning her between them.

  “Merry Christmas, guys. Now let me make the coffee.”

  They wouldn’t let her go and stilled her movements by taking turns kissing her. Eventually she quit fighting them and didn’t notice that when Jerald wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, Alan climbed out of bed. She did notice his return a few minutes later, when he held out his hands to her.

  “Come on.”

  “What?” She had just really started getting into the idea of staying in bed.

  He took her hands in his. “Come on. I want to show you something.” He’d also put his Santa hat on.

  She couldn’t miss his playful look. “What’d you do?”

  “Come on. Close your eyes.”

  She pulled on a bathrobe and let the two men lead her to the living room.

  Alan stepped behind her and rested his hands on her hips. “Okay,” he whispered in her ear. “Open them.”

  The space under the tree was filled with presents.

  Stunned, she stared as her eyes filled with tears. “I thought we agreed—”

  “Now, don’t do panicking,” Jerald teased. He sat in front of the tree. “We didn’t spend any money. Well, except on wrapping paper.”

  Alan sat by the tree and pulled her into his lap as Jerald handed her a large box. “Here. Open this one first. This one’s from me.”

  She couldn’t help but notice how light the box was. Still shocked, and feeling guilty she hadn’t bought them anything, she unwrapped it. Inside, she found a small piece of colorful scrapbook paper, with Jerald’s neat handwriting.

  “Coupon for a one-hour foot rub,” sh
e read.

  The corners of Alan’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Okay, so he spent money on that paper, too.”

  She laughed and leaned forward to hug him. “Thank you.”

  Now realizing what they’d done, she was able to throw herself into the festivities. Every present was for her, and they ranged from “coupons” to computer print-outs of things the guys would have liked to have bought her, like jewelry and clothes.

  Jerald handed her the last one, smaller than the rest. “This one’s from me and Alan.”

  Inside lay a small, heart-shaped piece of paper. On it, they’d printed one word: Us.

  Alan nibbled the side of her neck. “We’re yours forever, sweetie,” he said.

  Her vision blurred again as tears filled her eyes. Jerald leaned in and kissed her. “Forever,” he softly echoed.

  “I love you guys,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ira came to visit Paulie two weeks after Christmas. “Give me good news.”

  “She’s not in protective custody, as far as we can ascertain. Tony said one of his contacts came through. Her license was run the day after she jumped ship by an FWC officer. He usually works out of a marina in Aripeka.”

  “Fuckin’ game warden?”

  Ira shrugged. “No official report on her being located, but they did a little digging. Get this, the FWC officer’s a faggot. His boyfriend is a fishing guide. Our contact’s working on that angle now.”

  “You think this guide found her, picked her up?”

  “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “I want this problem to disappear.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ira assured him. “They’re working on it.”

  “Try not to whack the fucking fish cop while they’re at it. Last thing I need is a dead cop rap added to the list.”

  “Your father said absolutely no collateral damage, Paulie. That’s the final word.”

  * * * *

  It was warm even for late January in Florida. Alan and Daphne had a few honey-do items to check off the list, including pressure washing the outside of the house. He wanted to paint it in preparation for their eventual move, but this step had to be completed first.

  She’d spent many hours with Alan at the contractor’s office, going over the plans for the new house. The men urged her to pick things like the cabinets, paint, and flooring. Every step closer to breaking ground hammered home to her how much they loved and wanted her.

  Their house. Always including her in that phrase. The men never let her forget it.

  She rode with him to the equipment rental place where they picked up the pressure washer. She still felt nervous leaving the house, but as time wore on with no sign of Paulie Scorsini’s goons catching up with her, she could relax a little.

  Jerald had to work today but would most likely come home for lunch because he’d had to work late into the night on a poaching investigation. The property survey for the new house had been completed and the contractor was in the process of securing the needed permits.

  They had several other errands to run too, and by the time they returned to the house, Jerald was pulling in behind them before they even got out of Alan’s truck.

  * * * *

  Across the street, hidden in a stand of trees, a man silently swore. He’d been given specific instructions. No collateral damage. Just the girl. Especially not the cop. Considering who footed the bill for this job, he didn’t dare screw up.

  He settled in to await a better opportunity.

  * * * *

  Jerald was slow to push back from the table after lunch. “Jesus I’m freaking tired.”

  “You can’t call in? Take the rest of the day off?” Alan asked. “You look wiped out.” He stepped behind Jerald and rubbed his shoulders.

  “No, I don’t have anyone to cover me.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Just three more hours and I can call it an early day. They’ve got someone coming in a little early for us.”

  “Want me to make you some coffee?” Daphne offered. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Thanks, sweetie, but I’ll be okay. I need to get moving.” He kissed Alan, then her, before heading for his truck.

  * * * *

  Across the street in his wooded hiding spot, the man watched the cop get into his truck and leave. A few minutes later, the other man and the woman also walked out the front door.

  Crap. She didn’t look like the picture he had. At least not from where he sat. The picture he had was of a platinum blonde. He’d have to get closer.

  He watched as she helped the man unload a pressure washer from the back of the truck and lug it around the side of the house. Well, at least it would help cover any noise.

  Stepping out of his hiding place, he looked around. He knew no one was home in the three houses closest to this one, the nearest one almost a hundred yards away. The quiet side street ended three blocks up at the woods, meaning very little traffic.

  He’d done his homework.

  He heard the pressure washer start up on the back side of the house and took that as his cue to quickly cross the street and work his way through the yard, the gun in his hand held close by his thigh.

  * * * *

  Jerald pulled into the marina parking lot and unsuccessfully suppressed another yawn. Fuck. Three more goddamn hours. Maybe he could just sit here and do paperwork. It was a Tuesday, only three empty trailers in the parking lot, most of the regular boats tied up in their slips.

  He stared at Alan’s two boats, safely tied up. He’d love to be snuggled up in bed with Alan and Daphne, catching up on his sleep.

  With a weary sigh, he opened his truck door and climbed out. Maybe it was time to consider retiring. Past vested in the state pension plan, he was getting too old for this shit. He reached for his waterproof duffle bag when Corporal Steve Charon pulled into the marina parking lot.

  Oh, good, another delay.

  Steve waved and walked over to him. “Jesus, Jer, you look wiped out.”

  “That’s what Alan said.”

  “I heard about the bust last night. I figured I’d come in early and see if you wanted to go home.”

  Jerald let out a huge sigh of relief. “Man, that would be freaking awesome. At this rate I’m liable to fall asleep behind the wheel. Sucks getting old.”

  Steve smiled. “Beats the alternative.”

  “Well, that’s true.” He tossed his bag into the truck. He hadn’t written any citations yet that morning, so nothing to process. “It was really quiet today, nothing happening. Tell them I’ll file my reports in the morning.”

  “No problem.”

  Jerald climbed into the truck and headed home, then groaned. The pressure washer. He rolled his eyes. Hell, he’d be willing to pay an extra day’s rental charges if it meant Alan would keep the damn thing shut off.

  He rounded the turn to get home and immediately spotted the tell-tale spray blowing over the roof from the back of the house. Damn, he got it set up fast.

  As he pulled into their driveway, he thought he caught a glimpse of a man disappearing around the far corner of the house. Instinctively on alert, he jumped from the truck and thumbed his holster open, his hand on the butt of his nine millimeter.

  This was wrong. He knew without a doubt it wasn’t Alan, and from the way the guy moved, he was up to no good, sneaking around.

  When he reached the corner of the house, he heard the shot even over the sound of the pressure washer. Breaking into a run, Daphne’s screams reached him as he spotted the man preparing to shoot again.

  That’s when he instinctively drew his own weapon and fired.

  * * * *

  Alan watched as Daphne tried to stand upwind of the spray, but the light, confused breeze blew it everywhere.

  He laughed at her. “Come down here and stand behind me,” he said. “Seriously. I’ll even show you how it’s done.”

  She grinned. “You just want to get your hands on me.”<
br />
  “Guilty as charged. You know I can’t keep my hands off you, babe. Come here.”

  She walked across the deck to him. He put the pressure washer wand in her hands and wrapped his arms around her. “Like this.” He ground his hips into her backside as he led her in a sexy little dance while they pressure washed the wall.

  She laughed. “You keep this up, the house won’t get done.”

  “Ah, babe, but you sure will.” He nibbled on her neck, making her laugh.

  She was getting the hang of it and he stepping back so she could do it on her own when he caught movement at the corner of the house. By the time he realized the man had a gun, he knew it was too late.

  Screaming her name, he dove in front of her, knocking her down as he felt pain explode through his gut.

  * * * *

  Jerald’s pulse raced so fast he couldn’t tell one beat from the next. He kicked the guy’s gun away and checked his pulse, even though that was unnecessary. Half the fucker’s head was gone.

  He screamed into his radio for them to send deputies and an ambulance as he followed the sound of Daphne’s screams. At least she was alive.

  He rounded the corner and knew he was still screaming into his radio when he dropped to his knees beside them. Alan’s eyes were closed, and Daphne—Holy Christ! She was covered in blood!

  She looked at him. As her screams turned to sobs he realized the blood was Alan’s.

  “Are you okay?” he yelled, shaking her shoulders.

  She’d pressed a hand to Alan’s wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “He threw himself in front of me! I never saw the guy!”

  Alan’s eyes fluttered open and Jerald breathed a sigh of relief as he grabbed his hand. “The ambulance is on the way, buddy, hang on.”

  “Jer, do me a favor,” he muttered.