Page 16 of Three Daddies Under the Mistletoe

Just looking out the window on a fine evening like this, and I’m completely enthralled with this place. The pines are tall, black shadows against the indigo night sky that’s riddled with twinkling stars. The blanket of snow covering the backyard shimmers white under the rising moon, and delicate ice flowers begin to blossom in the window corners.

We’ve demolished two bottles of wine already, but I’m still on edge. Still wondering where tonight will end. Still thinking about Cynthia’s diary as I glance back at the dining room and see the guys coming over to where I’ve settled by the bay window. My heart is racing, once more, as Matthew smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. He’s always doing that. Always finding a reason to touch me.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Wonderful, to be honest. Finally relaxed. I can’t thank you guys enough for everything that you’ve done, everything you’re still doing—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he cuts me off. I’ve said this before, more than once, but I really mean it. I’m still in awe at what they have done, and what they continue to do for me.

Jason nods to the back door of the kitchen. “We’re going to relax in the hot tub for a while. Would you like to join us?”

“Um… okay.”

It’s insane. It’s Cynthia’s diary, repurposed to my own personal experience. Sully comes back from the dresser incorporated into the bottom of the staircase with thick, plush-white towels and robes, handing a set to each of us. “Hope you don’t mind, Selina, but we like to get naked in there,” he says, matter-of-factly.

What the hell am I supposed to respond with? Nothing. I’ve got nothing. I’m wide-eyed and speechless as I watch them take their clothes off. It’s hard not to stare when they’re so effing gorgeous and uninhibited. Perfectly aware that I’m gawking like a doe lost along the highway, they take their sweet time undressing while all I can do is clutch my robe and towel tightly, forgetting to even breathe.

Sully is stunning. His military service scars run down his left shoulder and torso—most of them deep gashes and shrapnel cuts, but it’s nothing that his fine ropes of muscle can’t soften. His broad shoulders and long arms fall gracefully down to his narrow hips. His cock defies me, growing with every second I spend staring at it, but I finally find the strength to move my gaze downward and admire his long, athletic legs. By the time I manage to look up again, I find him watching me, his dark eyes smiling as he puts his robe on.

Jason turns to the side as he gets naked, giving me a glorious profile. Equipped with a California surfer’s body and what I assume to be some kind of permanent tan earned from years of living by the Pacific Ocean, Jason is well-built and perfectly toned, his abs beautifully chiseled and his ass plump and firm enough to bounce a bank’s worth of nickels off it. He, too, smiles when he catches me ogling him. I’m ashamed of my own shame at this point, but when Matthew captures my chin between his thumb and index finger, I lose my breath and forget what I was ashamed of in the first place.

“You need to relax,” he whispers, then plants a soft kiss on my lips. “We’re only going to enjoy the hot tub. Take your clothes off.”

“Yes, sir,” I hear myself reply, though I’m not sure where that came from.

It apparently struck a nerve, however. The good kind of nerve, to be specific, because Matthew’s glare is sizzling hot and sending trillions of fiery signals through my bloodstream as I gather the courage to get up and leave my clothes by the window. They’ve already seen me naked. And the thought alone is enough to reignite my engines.

As if to give me a teeny bit of breathing room, Matthew, Sully, and Jason go outside. I quickly get rid of my clothes and wrap myself in the plushy robe, then join them out on the back porch, momentarily relieved until I see their robes dropping. I freeze, but not because of the cold. It’s cold and then some out here, but my body temperature is too high for me to notice.

They get into the hot tub, the water steaming and bubbling.

“Come on, princess, it’s perfect!” Jason exclaims with a sunny grin.

“Ah, screw it,” I mutter and drop my robe on top of theirs, then climb into the tub with shaky knees. I only have to endure a few seconds’ worth of the biting cold against my skin before immersing myself in the hot water. “Ooh, this is amazing…”

“Isn’t it?” Matthew agrees, laughing wholeheartedly. “It’s therapeutic.”

“Yeah, it does wonders for the circulatory system,” Sully says, and I catch the naughty undertone of his statement.

I’m full of anxiety but I don’t want to bypass this opportunity. It feels incredible… not just the hot tub experience but the fact that I’m spending the first of many evenings in the company of these men I’ve only been able to admire from afar. There are still moments when I can’t believe that this is actually happening, and not just a dream I’m going to wake up from. But it is happening. I’m here, away from the maddening world and the troubles that have been hounding me for the past couple of weeks. I need to simply enjoy this ride, as crazy and as exciting as it may be.

“So, the three of you were in the Marines together,” I say, trying to make small talk and properly relax in their proximity. Sitting down certainly helps, and the water keeps me relatively loose, while the rising steam tickles my ears and makes my hair curl at the nape. “For how long?”

“We did about five years together,” Matthew says. “We came from different units, though, so each of us had previous experiences abroad before we were selected for the same unit. It was a good thing, since we had our fair share of incidents and lessons to learn prior to coming together.”

“And when we did come together, we realized that there was this perfect balance between us,” Jason adds. “We could read each other well. Body language, micro-expressions, eye contact… it all came in handy while out in the field.”

“We made a good team, didn’t we?” Matthew says, more of a statement than a question.

Sully chuckles dryly. “Especially when it came to tormenting the rest of our troops.”

“Hey, they hated our guts in the barracks, but they loved us on missions,” Jason chimes in. “They loved you, in particular. Mr. First-Through-the-Door.”

“First Through the Door?” I ask.

They laugh, glimmers of nostalgia lingering in their eyes as they remember the times gone by. “Yeah, Sully was a reckless bastard,” Jason explains. “He’d always be at the head of the group for every incursion. The first to break the door down, the first to take the stairs, the first to jump…”

“Reckless or bold,” Matthew says. “Whichever worked. But we could always rely on him. We still can and do. Everything we were in the Marines is everything we are today, except we’re no longer in uniform and no longer subject to heavy restrictions.”

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