I Discharged Two Shrimper Brothers, Then Took Them Both Home novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Saturday, Eight

Both brothers arrive at her porch at once, she lifts her chin and sets her rule, and Rhett lifts her onto her kitchen counter while Boone's hands go under her dress.

Rhett's truck pulled into my driveway at 7:58, and Boone's old Ranger pulled in behind it at 7:59.

I watched from the kitchen window with a wooden spoon in my hand.

Neither of them got out.

They sat in their separate cabs with their engines off, looking at each other through two windshields, and then at my porch light.

I turned the stove down, opened the front door, and stood in it in a green dress and bare feet.

"Inside," I said. "Both of you. Boots on the mat."

They crossed the yard side by side without a word, six foot four and six foot three, and the porch boards complained under them.

Rhett carried a quart of shrimp on ice.

Boone carried a bottle of bourbon he had clearly wrapped himself.

They stopped on my mat, and for the first time in twelve weeks I saw them look straight at each other.

"You knew," Boone said.

"I thought you'd drive her to supper," Rhett said. "I thought you were going to your own place."

"I asked her to supper, too."

"So did I," Rhett said.

"I know," I said. "I wrote the same address on both. Come in before the neighbors start counting trucks."

They came in.

My kitchen is small, and with two of them in it there was nowhere to stand that wasn't against one of them.

I took the shrimp from Rhett and put it in the sink.

I took the bourbon from Boone and set it on the counter.

Then I turned around and put my back against the edge of the counter, and told them the rules.

"There are two," I said. "Saturdays, here, at my house."

"Saturdays," Rhett said.

"And you two do not touch each other."

Neither one answered.

Boone's jaw moved.

Rhett looked at the floor and then at me, and he nodded once.

"Anything else, Doc?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm going to kiss you first."

I took two steps and caught the front of his flannel shirt in both fists.

He is a foot taller than I am, and he did not bend at all.

He put one hand under my jaw, wide and warm, and tipped my face up.

I went up on my toes, and he met me the rest of the way.

His mouth was soft, and the beard was rough on my chin.

He tasted of coffee and the peppermints he kept in his glove box.

I opened my mouth under his.

He made a sound low in his throat that I had been trying not to hear for three months.

His other hand found my waist.

Then both hands slid down to the backs of my thighs, and he lifted me.

My feet left the floor.

He set me down on my own kitchen counter with my dress rucked up to the tops of my legs.

His body was between my knees.

I kept kissing him.

I felt every hard inch of him against the inside of my thigh through his jeans.

"Knee?" I said into his mouth.

"The knee's fine, Doc," he said. "It's the rest of me that hurts."

I laughed, and I let go of his shirt, and I looked over his shoulder at Boone.

Boone had not moved from the mat.

He stood with his hat in both hands and his gray eyes on me, and he did not blink.

"Take your shirt off," I said.

He put the hat on the table.

He undid the buttons one at a time and pulled the shirt over his head.

I saw what I had measured for twelve weeks with a goniometer.

He was leaner than his brother, long muscle over bone, with a pink seam over his left collarbone where the plate sat.

I had put my hands on every inch of that shoulder.

I had never once looked at it as a woman.

"Come here, Boone," I said.

He came across the kitchen and stopped at my left knee.

I reached out, and he bent his head, and I kissed him.

His mouth was careful at first.

He kissed carefully, and I got my hand in his black hair and pulled until he stopped being careful.

He groaned into my mouth, and his hand came up to my ribs, and it shook.

Rhett's mouth had gone to my neck.

His beard dragged along my throat, and he bit me gently where the muscle meets the shoulder.

I put my head back and heard myself make a noise I did not know I could make in my own kitchen.

"Both of you," I said. "Hands on me. Now."

Rhett's hand went under the hem of my dress and up the outside of my thigh.

Boone's hand slid up my back, and he found the zipper.

He drew it down slowly, all the way, and the green dress fell off my shoulders and gathered at my waist.

I had worn nothing under it but a black bra and a thin pair of underwear.

Boone looked down at my chest and made a small, broken sound.

"Dr. Brailsford," he said. "Ma'am. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Then use your mouth," I said.

He lowered his head.

He kissed the top of my left breast.

Then he pulled the cup of the bra down with one finger and took my nipple into his mouth.

I arched into him.

His tongue was hot and slow and he knew exactly what to do with it, and my whole body tightened.

Rhett's fingers had reached the edge of my underwear.

He stopped there and looked up at me, with his hand flat and heavy on the inside of my thigh.

"Doc," he said.

"Don't make me ask twice," I said. "Put your fingers in me."

He hooked his thumb in the band and dragged them down my legs.

Boone lifted me by the hips for it, one-handed, so my weight left the counter.

Then I was back on the cold laminate, bare.

Rhett's hand cupped me.

I was already soaked, and he felt it, and he looked at me with his brown eyes gone dark.

"Look at that," he said, rough. "Look at what you were hiding."

He slid two fingers inside me.

They were thick, and they were calloused from rope, and they filled me so full that I gasped and caught his shoulder.

He pushed them deep and curled them, and found the place right away.

I should not have been surprised.

He had spent twelve weeks on my table learning exactly where I pressed to make a muscle give.

"There," I said. "Right there."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I told you not to call me that."

"You like it," he said, and he did it again.

Boone's mouth was on my breast.

His hand had come around to my other one, and he rolled the nipple between two fingers.

Rhett pressed the heel of his hand against my clit and rubbed in a slow circle, and his fingers moved inside me in time.

I couldn't hold still.

I sat on a counter in my own kitchen with my dress around my waist.

One man's fingers were fucking me, and another man's mouth was on my tits.

I got one hand in Rhett's hair and the other in Boone's, and I held on to both.

"Harder," I said.

Rhett gave me harder.

His fingers drove up into me, and his palm ground against my clit, and his mouth came back to my neck.

"That's it, Doc," he said against my skin. "Let go. We've got you."

"We," I said, and the word broke in the middle.

I felt Boone's other hand slide around my back and hold me up, so I wouldn't slide off the counter.

His arm went right around me, and it took no effort at all.

They had me between them, off the floor.

Either one could have picked me up and set me on a shelf.

The pleasure rose, and I couldn't stop it.

I came on Rhett's fingers with my head back and my mouth open, shaking against the two of them.

I cried out loud enough that the dog next door barked.

Rhett did not stop until I had ridden all of it out.

Then he held his hand still, and slid it out of me slowly.

He lifted his fingers and looked at them, and he put them in his mouth.

I watched him do it, and my thighs clenched on nothing.

"Boone," I said. "Floor."

He went down on his knees on my kitchen tile without a word.

I hooked one heel over his shoulder, and Rhett's arm slid under my other leg and took its weight.

I was open to them, spread on a counter, and held up by a man on either side.

Boone put his mouth on me.

He was slower than his brother, and far more patient.

His tongue lay flat against my clit and stayed there, warm and heavy, and then began to move in small, firm circles.

I was still shaking from the first one, and everything was too bright.

"Boone," I said. "Oh, God. You're going to kill me."

"No, ma'am," he said against me. "I'm going to take my time."

Rhett took my mouth again.

He kissed me deep, with one hand cradling the back of my head and the other holding my leg wide, so his brother could have all of me.

I tasted myself on his tongue.

Boone slid two fingers in where Rhett's had been, and curled them, and sucked my clit between his lips.

"Again," I said into Rhett's mouth. "Make me do it again."

They made me.

It came slow and low this time, and it went on and on.

I bit Rhett's lip and ground down against Boone's face.

I came with one fist knotted in Boone's black hair and the other in the front of Rhett's shirt, and I heard myself say both of their names.

Boone did not pull away until I went limp against the cabinet.

He lifted his wet face and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

His gray eyes were glazed, and his lips were shining, and he looked at me with his whole face open.

"Get up here," I said.

He stood and I caught him by the belt and pulled him against my knee.

He was rigid through his jeans, and I pressed my hand flat on the front of them, and he shut his eyes.

"Not yet," I said. "Soon."

He nodded, and his whole chest shook.

Nobody spoke.

I sat on the counter, panting, naked to the waist, with my legs wide and Rhett's hand still on my thigh.

Boone had his forehead against my shoulder.

I could feel his heart going through his chest.

"Well," I said, when I could. "That's the appetizer."

Rhett laughed, a rough, helpless sound, and rested his forehead on my other shoulder.

For a second they were two big men bent over me, one on each side.

Their bodies almost touched across my lap.

Then Rhett lifted his head, and his eyes went over mine to his brother.

It was the first time I had seen him look at Boone without a wall in his face.

"Bedroom's down the hall," I said. "Boots are already off. I want both of you in there."

Nobody moved.

Rhett took a step back to let his brother through the kitchen door first.

He had not given way to Boone on anything in twelve weeks, not a door, not a chair, not a word.

"After you," he said.

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