Lots of Naughty & A Little Nice - Leigh Lennon Page 0,54

together.

From that moment, we’ve been at their house, or they’ve been at mine. At night, we snuggle into my king-sized bed, wanting to be close to Whitney. She’s not shied away from us, making her smart-ass comments, normally around anything to do with the number three.

“Hey, baby.” Knox’s voice startles me as I pull out a batch of family favorite cookies. “Holy shit, baby.” He reaches for a warm cookie from a couple of batches ago. He takes a bite and moans. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him exactly what he sounds like. “Fuck, baby, this is almost as good as your blowjobs.”

I can’t hold it in, dropping the pan on the countertop I just pulled from the oven, and double over, clutching my side, snorts falling from my mouth.

“Yeah, baby, while you’re down there, just go ahead and blow my whole mind.”

I’m laughing so hard, but knowing Knox’s appetite for both Ro and me, he’s not joking.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing to our little toy maker?” Ro strolls in, reaching for the same cookie Knox has. He takes a large bite.

“Fuck, baby, what are these? Because they’re almost as good as sex with the both of you.” He’s serious, without a smile on his face because Ro doesn’t joke about good sex.

“You both are sex-crazed.” I grab my own cookie. “This is my mom’s only Christmas cookie she would make. These are peppermint double chocolate cookies.”

Knox grabs five cookies as Ro takes four. “I guess I better make more.” But before either man can reply, Ro has the oven turned off, and with cookies in one hand, Knox has me over his shoulders. “Yeah, we’re about to show you how delicious you are, our little toy maker.”

Christmas Eve comes in four short days, but in this time, our bond has strengthened. Knox cooks with me, Ro and I have played endless games of chess. We’ve gone on long drives, searching for neighborhoods like ours that have beautiful decorations. And at night, we sit in my favorite room of the house and sip on hot chocolate. I can’t believe how anchored they are in my heart.

After a night of watching our family Christmas Eve classic, Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas, and eating stuffed shells—another tradition in our family—all I want are their bodies embracing mine.

I’m in bed, but both men are in my en suite, and they’re whispering. “Hey, guys, I’m ready for bed.” I’ve been baking all day, another tradition I share with my sister as we’ve made peach cobbler, apple pies, and Knox’s favorite, sweet potato pie.

“Yeah, baby, we’re on our way,” they call out.

I’m in the middle, pulling the blankets up over me because both men are so hot-natured. However, their body heat makes me toasty at night. Being part of a triad has been easy. I’m not delusional enough to think we’re perfect or that we won’t ever fight. Like with any relationship, it’ll take work.

My eyes are closed, but I’m not ready to fall asleep until both men join me in bed.

“Baby, don’t you dare go to sleep. Santa has brought you your presents early.”

Sitting up, I place my pillow beside me as both men crawl on either side of me. Their presents are downstairs, and I want to give them theirs at the same time. “You can’t give me your present tonight, not until…”

“Oh, we can’t, little toy maker? Did you hear that, Ro?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I think we make the rules of when we can give you our presents.”

My eyes dart from one man to the other on either side of me. “But your presents are downstairs and…”

“And nothing, baby.” Ro’s authoritative voice wakes me up, and instantly, I’m not tired anymore.

I fold my arms over my chest. “Okay, fine. I guess I won’t say no to presents.”

“Good,” Knox begins and reaches behind him, grabbing a large and flat item, at least three by three feet.

“What in the world?” I say, no idea what this might be. But with one tear of the wrapping paper, I sneak a peek. With everything ripped off, I’m staring at the painting I’d wanted from Knox’s art gallery.

I’m breathless, unable to share how much this one priceless gem means to me. “Just think how very different our lives would be if it wasn’t for our first encounter, Ave,” Ro begins, and he’s right. In one month, my life has changed, and this time, it’s not kicking me in the face. I have what I want.

I’m