Badge Boys

by Caliente Morgan

  “God help that poor soul,” they said. In unison. They were so adorable when they did that.

  Troy and Ivan embraced each other. A bonding male embrace, involving back slapping and a number of their twin language signs. Different from how they held her.

  “I think,” Ivan said, “we have found the one woman who could ever put up with us. We should work with her.”

  “I’ll second that,” Troy said.

  Together, arms entwined, they turned around to face her. A wall of testosterone. In blue uniforms. Dripping leather and gear.

  “We can accept that.” Their speaking in unison made her grin.

  “Where would you like this to go?” she asked. She deliberately licked her lips.

  “Where do you think it will go?” they asked.

  “Something permanent. For that and that alone, Ivan, you may consider yourself as primary for that. I don’t think they allow polygamy. Any paperwork allows only one husband. Not something to worry about yet.”

  “Ménage.” Ivan came over and took her into his strong beautiful arms and kissed her senseless. Again. He had that particular way of just mesmerizing her. His tongue. His lips. Turns out, now she knew Troy could do that, too.

  “I need you.” Redundant since Ivan’s erection was about to break his zipper. “For a lot more than sex. I’ve been a machine on autopilot for a long time. You made me stop and look at what I want my life to be. It can’t keep being nothing but work and sleep. I checked out when...the marriage fell apart. You brought me back. My career is important. But there is so much more to life. When I retire I can’t take the job with me. I had a very empty future. I am free to dream of something else again.”

  Troy stepped over and wrapped his arms about both of them. “I have to say, I didn’t even realize how emotionally barren things had gotten. Thank you for stopping that. We both are still picking up the pieces.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Just held onto them. Silently bonding. She loved them both and at that moment, she knew she’d never want to lose either one of them. Like a missing puzzle piece, she connected them.

  Troy broke the silence. “I have to admit, though, the sex is pretty damn good.”

  Ivan punched him in the shoulder. Both men wiped at their eyes.

  “You guys on call?” she asked, stepping away, feeling the loss of their body heat. She tugged her top closed.

  “No.” They weren’t even aware that they spoke in unison. It reminded her of how sync’d they were when they were both making love to her.

  Annie was aware that she now had their full attention. She checked. She could still tell them apart. If fact, it was more and more obvious which was which. She wondered if any other woman could do the same. The idea of any other woman ever touching one of them sent a possessive streak of jealously ripping through her worse than the last time. She’d have to work on that. Equal. Equal. Equal. She’d have to follow her own advice if it came up. Could she?

  To be honest with herself, she didn’t want to ever share them. With anyone. Ever.

  She smoothed down her tunic over her breasts, moving her hands very slowly. The men were suddenly refocused. Riveted. Two pairs of eyes tracking her every movement.

  “Good,” she said, inhaling deeply enough to pull the unbuttoned tunic open. She was wearing a see-though lace bra. “I think it’s time I took charge in the bedroom.”

  When she turned and started running up the stairs, they were in step behind her.

  Four feet in SWAT boots stomping up to her bedroom door.

  Lord have mercy.

  Annie knew exactly what she was going to do. She almost giggled. Licked her lips. And avoided capture. Oh no.

  Time to play. Her way.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Progress. Days flew by and then it was weeks. The three had settled into a pattern more or less. The twins loved that Annie was fine when interrupts occurred. They didn’t have to make excuses, or worry that she’d resent them up and leaving. They loved that Annie respected their work.

  She loved that they respected her work. Because one of these days, she was going to write the best seller. Meanwhile, she continued picking up technical writing contracts.

  They were not in contact every single day, which suited her. She needed private time and peace. They had family and job responsibilities. So far, no one on the job knew about her. Eventually, that would change. Eventually, if they were to make this a long-term arrangement, which she wanted and which they had all tossed around, she’d be dragged into being a cop’s “wife.” They seemed to think that could work.

  Annie did have one slight problem.

  She had detected a slight amount of residual jealousy. It flared up now and then and was usually quickly suppressed. But it was there. She would catch a scowl or a frown. A look. She could read their looks.

  Ivan was having a hard time. Troy wasn’t far behind. They both wanted her one-on-one, and she enjoyed that when it happened because she liked it just as much. But she felt she had to be very careful. Keep things even. Equal.

  Sometimes she would laugh at them. Chide them into dropping the attitude as she called it when she’d catch it.

  Sometimes she would just get worried.

  Jealousy was the fastest way to kill an arrangement of this nature. Look at the TV reality shows about polygamy. Every now and then you would see it flare up. That insecurity. The resulting discord.

  The shows were scripted.

  But this was her life.

  In just a few weeks, they had moved from dating, to serious dating, to an emotional bonding as she had never experienced.

  Annie loved them both. She couldn’t pick one over the other.

  Was it perfectly distributed? No. She was human.

  She did the best she could do.

  But the worry over it was getting to her.

  She decided that she would bring it up when she was next alone with one or the other. Perhaps with Ivan. Because somehow, she saw him as the calmer, more thoughtful of the two. Possibly because he had taken her to bed first. Declared himself first. And he was older by three minutes.

  Talk. She would talk to Ivan. Right after blowing his mind in bed. Provided she could keep him awake after.

  She giggled.

  Yeah. That will work.

  Okay. She’d talk to him before she screwed him senseless.

  The ping on the computer said new email and she read it, and smiled. Perfect.

  He was coming over tonight. Alone. Because he wanted to discuss something.

  * * * * *

  When the kitchen door opened later, Ivan was there, not in uniform. Black turtleneck. Black jeans. Black boots. Spiffed up. A duffle bag and his uniform on a hanger still in the dry cleaner’s bag came in with him.

  Annie was used to the dry cleaner bags and the overnight duffle. They sometimes both arrived that way, in uniform or out. Usually in. Usually heading for a shower. Sometimes taking her along.

  Twins in a soapy shower was one of her favorite things. Soap bubbles all over those muscles...all of those muscles. Slippery when wet. Oh hell, yes.

  Ivan didn’t look like he needed a shower.

  “On-call?” she asked.

  “No. Just didn’t want anything delaying me in the morning.”

  “Staying the night?” They seldom stayed through the night. She liked it when they did.

  “I hope so,” he said. He stowed the garments and then caught her against the sink. With those arms penning her in, he leaned in and kissed her.

  It was a switch. His lips. His arms. His tongue teasing hers. Her body flooded and opened and screamed, “I’m ready!”

  If she asked about Troy and where he was, he’d scowl. So she didn’t, even if she wondered.

  When Ivan came up for air, her arms wrapped around him. Talking was the last thing on her mind.

  Must have been the last thing on his. He yanked her shorts off and her panties gleefully went with them. He checked the counter, lif
ted her up, spread her legs, and put himself between them. He had his zipper down, his pants dropped and a condom in place before she even thought to help. He knew what he wanted. He was going to take what he wanted. She had kissed him with everything she had, which was permission.

  His fingers checked her readiness as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

  “Ready?” he whispered, his voice thick and hoarse, his cock in much the same state.

  She loved that he wanted her this much.

  He positioned her just a little, then dropped her off the counter right onto his shaft, mounted, her legs around his waist. Her body tilted just right for him to seat as far in as possible, which she loved. Feeling him inside her. Feeling him engorged. Feeling the friction when he flexed and slid back and forth, helped by her gripping her legs and flexing her own hips. They fit. Like puzzle pieces.

  She took his mouth again in a soul draining kiss delivered by both, their panting breath catching rhythm.

  Stroke by stroke.

  He slipped his fingers to her nub and rubbed it hard, making her thrust faster and deeper and she came, just like that, hard and fast and enjoyable, squeezing him, his cock large and firm. He let go soon enough. She was milking him dry.

  “God, woman,” he managed, still holding her for that last moment of his cock’s pulsing. “I can’t believe how good you are.”

  “Here I was thinking I was being very, very bad,” she replied. “I’ll have to be bad harder.” She slid to the floor. Naked from the waist down. He was debating something.

  “What?” she asked. She could read him like a book.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I know,” she replied. “I love you, too. I don’t allow many men to strip me and mount me in my kitchen...”

  He chuckled, dropped his pants, stripped off his shirt. She had decided she really liked that soft turtleneck. Naked, he had pinned her against the counter again, his cock between her thighs. She liked that position too.

  “Anyone I know do this?” he asked.

  “Not really.” Because Troy never had. Not yet.

  “Good,” he answered.

  He took out a box from a pocket of the jeans before tossing them aside.

  “I want to marry you.” He flipped the box open. It was a garnet surrounded by diamonds. Her birthstone. “This won’t let anyone know until we are ready.”

  He slid it on her hand.

  “And—Troy?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “He knows. You can’t marry us both. I get to be the lucky one.” He was holding her hand.

  “Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes. But,” she took a deep breath, “I want Troy to say he’s all right with this.”

  “I thought you might. He can’t come tonight, but after shift in the morning he will stop by. Good enough?”

  “No jealousy?” she asked.

  Ivan shook his head no. “At least, not any more than usual. We don’t get into fistfights. We don’t even raise our voices. We are competitive. We will always be competitive, but we are supportive each of the other. He has my back. I have his. We both have yours.”

  “I don’t ever want to come between you. You are a special duo. No one should break that apart. I love you both. I care for you both. I want this to work. Really work. Everyone comfortable. Everyone happy. I think there are a lot of things to be worked out. Housing. And Troy’s son. This will take some time. Let’s not rush.”

  “How long?” he asked.

  “As long as it takes. But, feel free to fuck me in my kitchen anytime you want.” She giggled. While she had been talking, he had divested her of her remaining clothing.

  Now he cupped her breasts. “I’ve been neglecting these.”

  Annie suddenly realized that her nipples were extra-ordinarily sensitive, and her girly parts were thrumming, and in a minute she’d take him to the floor and mount him.

  “Bed or sofa,” she asked, hearing the huskiness in her voice.

  “Bed,” he whispered back, nibbling at one breast. “It’s closer. Straight up the stairs.”

  Pinching both her nipples just enough to send ripples through her nether regions, which made her pant, he towed her to the stairs.

  “Upstairs,” he ordered. “Now!” He dropped his hands, and she almost mewed. She raced up the stairs, Ivan close behind.

  They landed in a heap on the bed, sliding the bed across the laminate floor.

  “I have got to remember to put those anti-skid rubbers under the bed frame’s legs,” she stated as he dragged her around the way he wanted her. In this case, where he could tease her nipples while one hand played with her slick folds. He knew the proper stroke. Where to touch her. How hard. How fast. How everything.

  When she clamped down on his fingers, he took her scream into his mouth.

  When she quieted and lay cuddled in Ivan’s arms, all she could think of was, “This man is mine.”

  God help her, but she was going to make this work.

  Chapter Twenty

  Four months later...

  Annie came home to find them both there. She was not surprised. They had parked their trucks on each side of her driveway, leaving her room for her truck. Thoughtful.

  When she opened the door, she saw the two men in her kitchen sipping beer. She set down her packages. Dropped off her jacket. Pulled the tank top over her head. She had on a see through lace bra that was straining to hold her heavy breasts in place. Somewhere north of her navel. Her nipples were peaked and the lace did nothing to hide that.

  Two pairs of eyes were watching. All conversation stopped. Mesmerized, they took note of her lack of covering.

  She stopped disrobing and turned to run up the stairs. She was getting good at this.

  She was followed. Chased to be specific.

  This time, she only made it to the bedroom door before she was caught. The three-inch heels made her slower. Two pairs of hands finished stripping off her slacks to reveal a fancy piece of lace pretending to be underwear. For a moment, both men froze.

  “Holy moly, Superman. Did she leave the house wearing this?”

  “Think so, Batman,” said Ivan, turning back to Annie. “Naughty, naughty. What if you were in an accident? Some clumsy EMT guy could have seen this. Doesn’t bear thinking of. Granny panties. A nice plain cotton bra. That’s the ticket.”

  Now that was all Ivan. Ivan of the slightly crooked grin. Ivan with a possessive streak.

  Batman was Troy. Annie giggled. She had wondered what Ivan’s moniker was as she kicked out of the slacks and her heels. She had actually bet herself that it was Superman. They had refused to tell her. They had spilled the beans now!

  “Oh no. Keep those on.” Ivan sank to his knees.

  Troy held her up so she didn’t fall over, and Ivan replaced those three-inch platform heels back on her feet after he massaged them a little, of course. Ivan of the foot fetish. He was a leg man. He was a boob man. He was an everything kind of man. He got up only after he had stroked her legs from ankle to thigh top and back down again. His touch left a trail of heat, sent sparks racing along her nerves, and had her wet, excited, and sexually ready for him.

  He opened up the front-closing bra.

  “Not fair,” she pouted. “You’re fully dressed. Geared up.”

  “Undress us.” Troy.

  Troy liked to tease. He was a breast man. Well, to be truthful, they both were. They also loved her undressing them and had taught her the rules for handling the equipment belt and the weapons it contained. Basically, they didn’t like her touching it.

  Otherwise, they liked to occasionally pretend to be helpless. As if.

  They liked her giving orders.

  She was still learning them after all this time. All their likes and dislikes. Like reading a favorite book. Two books. Similar stories. Slightly different wording.

  She bit her grinning lip, stepped up to Ivan, and started to open his uniform shirt cuffs.

  “No. We need to keep th
ings in order. Just in case.” He indicated the cell phone. The ever-present cell phone. They were on call. Bummer.

  With that, he had set the boundaries of what she could undo this time and what must be left to them. They were teaching her those rules, too.

  Annie had to admit they could strip down pretty damn fast. Left their clothing and gear in neat order. Could probably redress in under a minute.

  She made a note for the third or fourth time. Need to have things arranged so they had a place to safely put that equipment belt and those guns. Those boots. That pristine uniform.

  For now, she helped them remove everything. She enjoyed watching. Enjoyed touching even more. Managed to touch them a lot during the undressing process. A simple brush of her fingertips here. A slide of her arm against warm flesh there. Didn’t want to waste a moment not teasing and playing with them.

  They were allowed to touch her right back. They were learning her body. Nuances. Little differences. How to ramp her intensity right off the charts. At the moment, she was ramping their intensity.

  She loved seeing their muscles ripple as they moved. Loved those rippling abs. Loved, loved, loved those magnificent thighs. Adored their arms. Their lips. Reveled in the state of their erections when they were finished. Because those were just for her.

  There was something so hot in watching a man get naked when one knew and wanted his intensions. She was watching two of them. Tightly focused men. Because in the end, they were cops. Good cops. But once they put away that persona...

  She was picked up by Ivan and put on the bed in the center of the mattress. The covers had been hurled to the floor. So much for neatness. Ivan had settled himself on one side, and Troy had settled on the other. Without a word, Ivan kissed her, stroked her skin, cradled her head, positioning her for the invasion of his tongue. Made love to her mouth. She loved his kisses. Drowned in them as she clung to his shoulders. Time just stopped.

  Ivan’s hands roamed down her body, stroking across her breasts. He stopped kissing her mouth and started blowing across one of her exposed nipples. Her breasts were on display. Ivan’s hand stroked them in a teasing pass, made them rise and peak.