Page 57 of A Fighter’s Love

Jenny wriggled. Much as she liked watching them kiss, the luscious satisfaction that came after a strong orgasm was washing over her. She needed a sleep, a long sleep.

Dale slipped from her ass, and Jackson from her pussy. They settled so they were all lying in a row on the bed.

Jackson reached for her hand and squeezed it.

A shrillbeep, beep, beepfilled the room.

“What’s that?” Jenny asked.

“The oven,” Dale said.

“Bugger. That means the dinner needs stirring.” She went to sit.

“I’ll go wash up and then do it.” Dale moved to the edge of the bed. “You stay there.”

Suddenly a loud rumble added to the beeping noise.

“Was that your stomach?” Jenny asked Jackson.

He sat, laughing as he did so. “Yeah. I guess it’s time to eat. Come on, let’s sate our appetites for food so we have energy for after dark.”

“I’ve made a starter,” Jenny said, reaching for her underwear.

“Honey,” Jackson said, pulling her close. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think anything will ever beat the starter we’ve all just had.” He set a soft kiss over her lips.

She melted against him. When had she ever been so happy? Felt so content and utterly female? So excited about the future? She didn’t think she ever had, and right now, she was prepared to thank whichever gods of fate had sent Dale and Jackson into her life.

Chapter Fourteen

The meal was a great success. Jenny adored the way the men ate huge dinners with such enthusiasm. Refueling their big bodies was something they took very seriously.

She enjoyed another glass of wine and was content to take the last inch into the lounge area after they’d polished off the chocolate cheesecake between them.

Dale dropped onto the end of the long white sofa and propped a black velvet cushion behind his head.

Jackson sat on the opposite end, his feet on a low table.

Jenny set down her drink, then flopped in the middle of them, her silky blouse sliding against the leather. As the TV came on—an old episode ofTop Gear— she was unable to stifle a yawn.

“You don’t like this?” Dale asked, pointing the remote at the screen.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind it.” She yawned again. “Just tired.”

“Come here,” he said, reaching for another cushion and placing it on his lap. “Rest down.”

She didn’t need asking twice and was content to lie on the sofa, her head on his lap and her feet up.

He stroked her hair, very gently smoothing it over her scalp and neck.

Jackson reached for her feet, rested them on his lap, and massaged the base of her soles.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Bliss. Their hands on her, whatever they were doing, were like magic.

Jenny had a moment of disorientation when she awoke. She wasn’t where she’d fallen asleep. She stretched out her arms and legs and found warm patches either side.

With a murmur she opened her eyes. She was in Dale’s bedroom. Light was spilling in through the white shutters and a large glass lamp hung above the bed. She hadn’t taken any notice of the décor the first time she’d come into the room—she’d been preoccupied.

She turned and faced the en suite. The sound of splashing water, interrupted on its tumble to the shower tray, filtered toward her.

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