Free Dixie Lynn Dwyer by Her Double Deputies Page A

she could get involved with two men one day. Realistically, she knew that she didn’t care for one brother more than the other, so that right there was promising. Secondly, she was young when she had sex for the first time with Devlon. Five years without ever having sex, well, with another person since toys didn’t really count, was too long to wait. She was bursting at the seams with sexual frustration. Vic and Tommy brought it out in her. They made something come alive inside of her that was different.
    She was ready to take this chance.
    She got into Vic’s black Ford F-450 cab pickup truck. It was all done up with chrome trim and fancy hubcaps. The interior was gorgeous.
    They were all kind of quiet as they drove out of town a ways and to their very secluded ranch.
    It was late, after two o’clock in the morning, and Vic looked really tired. Something stirred inside of her. Whether it was concern or some instinctual thing, she worried about him.
    As they got out of the truck, Tommy helped her down and pulled her up into his arms. She was glad she had changed into the short flare skirt and blouse as she felt the palm of Tommy’s hand over her ass.
    “You feel good in my arms,” he told her and she smiled and blushed.
    “What is it? Don’t be shy.”
    “Well, your hand feels good on my ass,” she told him as she locked gazes with him right outside their front door.
    He looked so serious at that moment and then he kissed her.
    It was a fast, hot kiss that left her clinging tighter to his shoulders. The feel of hard muscles beneath her hands and thighs was enough to bring her pussy out of dormancy. Hot damn, he knew how to kiss and hold a woman.
    She hardly got to see the house as they walked through the darkness and up a flight of stairs. That was the only indication that the house was two stories tall. She had to admit that she was too engrossed in staring at Tommy and feeling his hand on her to notice the house from the outside.
    Vic followed, his boots clicking and clacking on the hardwood as they entered a large bedroom.
    She smelled fabric softener and cedar wood.
    Tommy slowly placed her feet on the floor as Vic turned on the bedside table light.
    It cast a glow around the room that was stunning from what she could see. The king-sized bed was decorated with a hand-carved headboard and some intricate Indian type of design. Same for the bedding, that was a combination of burgundy and hunter green.
    “This is gorgeous,” she told them as she touched the wood, trailing her hand across the carvings.
    “It was made by our great-great-grandfather,” Tommy told her. She turned to look at him and then at Vic. Both men stared at her, but it was Tommy who pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it to the chair by the wall.
    “Come here,” he whispered.
    She swallowed hard as she absorbed the sight of his body. Large, wide, muscular shoulders, tan skin, and that Native American choker he always wore around his neck. He was sporting various tattoos along his shoulders and upper arms. One was an intricate tribal design in black with Native American feathers, and the other was a wolf baring his teeth while it wrapped its paw around an American flag and a large knife.
    She swallowed hard.
    “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
    He smiled at her as he reached his hands out to unbutton her shirt and pulled her closer.
    “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,” he whispered, and she smiled up at him.
    “Really? Let me see, wise guy.” She touched his arm so she could see the design.
    “Why a wolf?”
    She looked at the tattoo, noticing through her peripheral vision that now Vic removed his shirt.
    “In the Comanche culture, wolves are a symbol of loyalty, success, intuition, spirituality, and perseverance. Our family history indicated our tribe as hunters, like the wolf. The wolf is believed to be ferocious, too,” Vic stated as he stood along her right side and moved her hair away from her