Hell Yeah! Box Set With Bonus Cookbook

by Hunter, Sable

  “Be safe,” Libby said softly. “I’ll leave the front porch light on.”

  “I will be, and doll – keep the bed warm, I need you so badly. It just feels like that if I could get my arms around you, everything would be all right.”

  “Hurry home, I’ll be waiting.”

  Getting ready for bed, Libby made some decisions. Life was so uncertain, no one was guaranteed tomorrow. What happened to Joseph lent credence to that age-old truth. She decided that she was going to live as if God had sent her a memo and told her that she would break the century barrier. In a few days, she would keep her appointment with Doc Mulligan, but there would be no plans to leave Tebow until the day came when she felt that Aron was ready for her to go.

  At the same time, she wanted to cover her bases and mend any fences that might have sagged over the years. Before she lay down, she wrote down the names of two friends she wanted to reconnect with, and she found a Bible in the den that she intended to read through – it had always been a goal of hers. Finally, she thought about making a will. That was funny; she didn’t have anything to leave anybody – except for her one precious piece of Aron’s sculpture – Freedom. And the only person that she wanted to have that was its creator, Aron. If things looked like they were digressing, she wanted to put it back into his hands and see his face when he realized that she had kept it safe for him all of these years.

  * * *

  Aron gently closed the door behind him; it was good to be home. The helicopter carrying Joseph and Jacob had probably beat them back to the Hill Country. As soon as morning came, they would head to the hospital as a family. A Dr. Susan Grigsby was going sit in on the consult with Cassidy and they would evaluate Joseph’s test results and recommend what would come next. The only thing that worried Aron was the thought of Joseph having to exist in a sterile hospital setting. That was why he intended to build whatever facilities that were needed for Joseph to rehabilitate at home. While the contractors were at it, he was going to build a studio for Libby – a place where she could design and create her handbags. It was good to have contacts, he had placed a few phone calls to a man he knew in New York, and soon boxes and boxes of fabrics, decorations, leathers, and all manners of sewing supplies would be delivered to the front steps of Tebow. He had also told Gregory to send state of the art sewing machines and sergers so Libby would have the very best tools to work with. There was nothing too good for his baby, and he couldn’t wait to see her eyes light up when she saw his surprise. It would all come to pass quickly, because Aron wanted things to settle down and get back to some semblance of normal. Joseph was going to be all right, Aron was determined that he would be. Nothing else was acceptable.

  “Now, that’s what I needed to see,” he breathed as he took in the sight of Libby in bed, curled up on her side. Her hand was underneath her cheek, and the covers were thrown back to reveal the fact that she was waiting on him wrapped only in the beautiful skin God had originally clothed her in. Stripping, he was eager to feel her warmth merge with his.

  “Libby-honey, open those arms, I’m home.” Immediately, she opened herself to him, fitting her body to his, welcoming him home.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. How’s Joseph?” she didn’t give him time to answer. She was so starved for the taste of his kiss that she molded her lips to his and drank greedily. Aron answered in kind, rolling to his back, he pulled her on top of him, letting his hands move down her body, memorizing every dip and hill. He plunged his tongue in deep, letting it mate with hers. How wonderful it was to be greeted with a homecoming like this.

  So glad to be with her, Aron felt playful. Running his hand down her silky back, he let his fingers play lower. Her sweet bottom was beckoning him to caress and mold. Dipping his finger between the clefts of her cheeks, he teased regions that had as of yet gone unexplored. She gasped at the unfamiliar intrusion, Aron just laughed, “Nice crack, Liberty Bell.”

  Not to be out done, she came back with one of her own. “Why don’t you just give me your John Hancock, already?”

  “So, you want me to dip my feather in your ink?” Their happy laughter filled the room.

  “I’m sure there’s a law against patriotic porn on the books somewhere,” she teased.

  “Just as long as there is no law against loving you.” Aron put his hands under her arms and lifted her up, sliding her body over his until he could get one of her nipples in his mouth. Without preliminaries, he began to suckle, seemingly taking comfort from the feel of her breast in his mouth. Libby lay her head on the pillow above his, relaxed, enjoying the tug and pull of his lips and the rasping of his tongue. In a moment, his fingers found her sex and he began to massage her slit, sliding his finger in and out, reminding her why she had been created. His mouth became insistent on her breast, demanding an audible response to his lovemaking. She gave it to him.

  “You are making me crazy, love.” She tightened her sheath around his fingers, moving her hips in a dance of excitement. Pulling one nipple out of his mouth, she shifted and offered him the other. He never missed a beat, consuming the jealous nipple with a devotion equal to what had been lavished on its counterpart. “Bite me, baby – just a little.”

  Chuckling under his breath, and without turning loose of her breast, he nipped at her nipple. The sharp jolt of erotic shock ripped through her, making her wonder at the depths of sexual exploration still available for them to delve into. “Oh, I like that,” she praised him. “You are so good.”

  “Can’t wait any longer,” he announced. Guiding her to one side, he rolled them over, careful to keep his full weight from smashing her. “Open those legs, baby. I need to come inside.” Splaying herself open, she lay there eagerly awaiting him.

  “I ache Aron, fill me up, please.” Libby lifted her hips to him, panting for his possession. Slowly, he pushed in. He seemed larger than usual, bigger around, more swollen. She felt her channel stretching to make room for his tremendous girth. Every nerve ending in her vagina was tingling with high-pitch awareness. Even the lips of her vulva were passion-kissed with arousal, seeking to fit themselves around his member, making them one in body as well as spirit.

  “Look at me, Libby,” Aron demanded as he sank further into her juicy little glory-hole. She lifted her amethyst eyes to him, but they were unseeing, unaware of anything but the wonder of his claiming. “Do you know who you belong to, Libby?”

  She managed to nod, but she couldn’t verbalize a response. Aron thrust into her hard, as if he were planting a flag, claiming his property. “You are mine, Liberty Bell. I don’t want there to be a doubt in your mind.” Sitting back on his haunches, he pulled her up and across him, lifting her hips, angling her so that he would drag sensuously across the very place that would drive her insane.

  Taking complete control, Aron thrust into her again, slowly – dragging the distended purple glans at the head of his penis across the spongy spot that was made just for a time like this. What a marvel the human body was, she managed to think. She was made just for him, fashioned to accommodate his male needs and demands. “Mine, Libby. Mine,” he chanted as he drove into her, pushing as deep within her heart as he was into her body. He laid his hand flat on her belly, steadying her for his pummeling. Unable to contain the bliss, Libby shattered into a million shards of light and color. Her body fluttered and pulsed around his staff, massaging his phallus until he, too, flamed and detonated, pouring himself into her with unequaled vigor. Even after he had emptied himself, Aron kept rocking into her, unwilling to pull out and break the sweet connection that their coitus provided.

  “I love you, Aron.” Libby said it like a prayer, a fitting benediction to a sacred act.

  “I worship you, baby. You don’t know what it meant to me, knowing that you were here waiting for me.” He moved from over her, fitting himself to her back – pressing against her – asserting himself as her protector.

&
nbsp; “Can I go with you to see Joseph tomorrow?” she asked, holding her breath. As far as she was concerned, this was a test. Did he consider her a girlfriend or a bedmate?

  “Of course. He’s already been asking for you. He wants some of your brownies.” Before, he knew what was happening, she was out of the bed. “Hey!”

  Smacking him on the forehead with a loud kiss, she calmed him. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back in an hour and a half. If Joseph wants brownies, then he gets brownies.” Aron knew there was no use arguing with her, Libby had made up her mind.

  As she padded down the stairs, Aron lay there and counted his blessings. Libby made life worth living. If only Joseph were whole again, life would be perfect. Throwing the covers off, he went to the sink and wet a washcloth and wiped off the remnants of his passion. Only six weeks ago, he had been alone and lost – bitter in his celibacy, he had only dreamt of having a companion like Libby – one who was sweet, sexy and eager to show him her love. Stroking his dick, he remembered the wonder of Libby’s heat engulfing him and he prayed to God that Joseph wouldn’t have to go through life and never experience this kind of joy.

  When the brownies were done, Libby returned to Aron’s arms. Without awakening, he instinctively made a place for her, whispering her name and nuzzling her neck. Before sleeping, she sent up another petition that she be given the gift of health and life so she could spend her days caring for and spoiling the man that she loved.

  * * *

  Libby and Aron entered the hospital room expecting to find an invalid; instead they found an agitated, unhappy McCoy – which is a fearsome thing. “I want to go home, Aron.” Joseph demanded.

  Even as he bellowed at his brother, he held his arms open to Libby. She sat the brownies down on the rolling table and hurried to step into Joseph’s hug. “How are you?” she whispered for his ears only.

  “Holding up,” he whispered back.

  “I’m getting you out of here as fast as I can,” Aron assured him. I’ve got two crews that will be there today and they are making all the modifications necessary so that we can get you set up for anything you may need.”

  “Sounds good to me, I’ll go crazy if I have to stay in this place very much longer.”

  “Can I get you anything?” Aron asked.

  “How about some coffee to go with those scrumptious smelling brownies?” Joseph wanted to get Aron out of the room. He needed to talk to Libby.

  Aron left for the coffee, willing to do anything that would perhaps bring a smile to his brother’s face. Once the door shut behind him, Joseph changed. “Libby, you’ve got to do something for me.”

  Libby didn’t like the change in his demeanor or his voice, “What would that be, Joseph? You know I’d do anything to help.”

  “I want the truth. I need you to find out from Aron exactly what my expectations are. They’re just feeding me a line of bull. I know I’ll never walk again, there’s no way. I can’t feel my feet, hell I can’t even feel my balls unless I reach down to see if they’re still there. I don‘t know if I can face life as half a man, Libby.” He sounded so desperate; she knew that he wanted to scream in frustration. Libby knew exactly how he felt. She had felt the exact same way that very day.

  Even though it shouldn’t be so, with a man it was different. Libby recognized the symptoms. She had seen it more than once. A man’s identity was so tied up in his strength, how tall he stands, and in his virility. She heard panic in his voice, raw panic that can eat away at your sanity and leave you questioning the value of facing another day. Joseph was questioning his legitimacy as a human being. This scared the crap out of her. She had to get through to him.

  “Joseph Anthony McCoy, you listen to me – and you listen to me good.” Libby got right up in his face, desperate to get through to him. “Life is worth living – in whatever state that you’re offered it. I’m going to level with you. Aron doesn’t know this yet, and I shouldn’t be telling you before I tell him – but this is an emergency – so, here goes. I have spent the last eight years of my life living on borrowed time.” At Joseph’s puzzled expression, she sat down beside him and took his hands in hers. “At present, I am in remission. My disease of choice is leukemia. The type that I have is fairly aggressive and remission doesn’t usually last over two years. Yet, during this unexpected and perhaps brief reprieve – I have fallen head over heels in love with your brother. He wants a future with me; a future that I have no assurance even exists.”

  Joseph was flabbergasted. “Libby, you have cancer?” Pulling her to him, he held her close. “No, you’ve got to be all right! We can’t do without you.”

  “Exactly, my point – and we can’t do without you!” she spoke in an adamant, no-nonsense tone. “Joseph, I have hope. It may be stupid, but I don’t have a choice. In one week, I go and sit down in front of a doctor and he will tell me whether my blood count is still improving or whether it is taking a nose-dive. Just yesterday, I had waves of nausea knock me to my knees. Yet, I can’t give up. I want to live too badly to throw up my hands and quit. I love your brother, and I want to live for him. And you – you don’t know – yet - what the final verdict is. You have to get a grip and find a way to hold on. Joseph, you have got to have hope, also. Your family loves you. I love you. And, there’s a woman out there – somewhere, that was meant just for you. She’s not here yet, but she’s coming. Love is worth holding on for.”

  Libby could tell she had hit a sore spot. He looked at her sadly. “I don’t have anything to offer a woman, Libby. My injury has stolen my manhood.”

  “Don’t say that, Joseph.” She clasped his hands. “Let’s make a pact. I’ll pray for your miracle, if you’ll pray for mine.”

  “Deal?” She waited, expectantly.

  He hesitated for a few long moments. Finally, he answered. “Deal.” Solemnly, they shook on it. This is the way that Aron found them.

  “I just leave the room, and come back and you two are all lovey-dovey. Should I be jealous?” he asked with a smile.

  “Yes, you should.” Joseph kissed Libby on the forehead soundly. “If the day ever comes, when you don’t want her – I’ll be standing, hopefully, standing by.”

  “I want you standing, Joseph - walking, running, jumping – whatever.” Aron assured him. “But you can’t have my Liberty Bell.”

  “Your what?” Joseph wasn’t privy to Libby’s real name.

  “Liberty Bell Fontaine,” Libby dryly explained. “My mom was from Philadelphia, and about the time I was born, she was feeling homesick.”

  * * *

  Libby cooked and cleaned around the mess that the contractors were making. The hustle and bustle of revamping the back wing of the Tebow main house was exciting in a way. It meant that Joseph could come home as soon as possible, and they could care for him. Libby was nervous. She had endured two more bouts of nausea, complete with throwing up.

  But instead of giving up, she was determined to have a positive attitude. Oddly enough, her puniness only seemed to affect her after breakfast, and by noon it was over and she would feel fine. Aron wouldn’t let her go back and inspect the work being done. He told her she might get hurt, and on top of that, he wanted it to be a surprise. Why he wanted to surprise her, she didn’t know. The work was being done for Joseph.

  No one had thought to do it, so Libby did – she called Bess and broke the news to her about their sweet dare-devil. Libby had thought long and hard about calling her. She halfway expected for Bess to say that she was on her way back to Tebow and Libby wasn’t certain she wanted that. She wasn’t ready to leave. Aron might want her to stay, but there were still doubts floating around in her head.

  Bess was shocked, to say the least. She said that she would call Joseph, but she didn’t offer to come home. In fact, she talked as if Libby’s time there was indefinite. That sounded like music to Libby’s ears, but there
was still that dreaded doctor’s appointment to get through.

  * * *

  The work was complete, and Libby couldn’t wait to see what Aron had done to accommodate his brother. She had so much planned, they all did – everyone was anxious to have Joseph home. She had gone to see him almost every day and each time they were alone, Joseph questioned her about how she was feeling. The doctor’s appointment was the day after next, and Joseph’s support was one of the main things keeping her going. She still hadn’t confided in Aron, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. After seeing Doc Mulligan, she would know what she was going to say, anyway.

  There were plans to bring Joseph home that very afternoon, so Libby began cooking all of his favorites. She decided to make it her personal mission to keep his spirits as high as possible. At the stove, she worked on a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup. Adding some parsley and cream, she put it on a slow simmer. When two large, warm hands slid around her waist – she didn’t even start – his touch was the greatest comfort in the world to her. Leaning back against him, she breathed a sigh of contentment. “I’m so glad Joseph is coming home.” As soon as she said the words, she almost bit her tongue. She had to be careful, she was beginning to talk as if this were her permanent home and she was the matriarch or something.

  “Yeah, me too.” Kissing the back of her neck he teased. “You smell almost as good as your soup.” Pulling her gently by the hand he walked her to the rear of the house. “Close your eyes, baby. I‘ve got something to show you.”

  “They’re closed. It smells good in here; I love the ‘new’ stuff smell.” Aron was right behind her, his hands moving up and down her arms. When they stopped, he moved to her right side. “Okay, open them.” Libby did. For a moment, she didn’t understand what she was seeing. This wasn’t what she was expecting - not at all. Where she was prepared to see exercise equipment, massage tables, whirlpool baths, and stuff like that – instead she saw shelves and work tables. Libby put her hand over her mouth and walked forward. There was a sewing machine and a serger. There was equipment to attach jewels and studs. And the wildest part was that the shelves were full of every type of material and fabric imaginable. Boxes of beads, jewels, brads, studs, all types of decorations were in neat little cases. There were scissors and tape measures, threads and cording – enough to make any designer cry. Sweetest of all was the sign on the wall. “Libby’s Designer Bags.”