ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2) (13 page)

"Yes, baby," she whispered at his ear.

"Please."

"Please what?"

Ty felt her body jerk and break stride, but she kept it in check. She wanted to come as bad as he did. He could feel it in every catch of her breath. His sac tightened and his eyes started to roll back in his head but he fought it.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pushed back to look at her. Bettina’s normally sleepy green eyes blazed like emeralds. Her full, pink lips were wet. Her hips never stopped.

"What, Ty? What do you want?" she ground out from between her teeth.

He wanted so much. How could he tell her the thoughts that jumbled his mind.

"Do you like that?"

He nodded, leaning up to kiss her. Lightly, their lips touched, then she backed away. Her hips were driving him crazy. Ty wanted to come, to explode inside her. He wanted to shout until the house fell down around their ears. Instead, he moaned.

She gasped and cried out. "More?"

He panted, but no words came out. It was all too different. So hot he thought he might burst into flames.

Her hips made faster, deeper plunges until, for Ty, everything stopped. Blood rushed, his hips arched and thrust repeatedly as he emptied himself inside her. He shouted, nearly sitting upright from the force of it. She yanked her hair loose from his grasp and pushed herself upright. Even with his eyes now closed, he could feel her getting ready to join him. She made the sweetest little chattering noises. Then her breath caught. He smiled, gasping with pleasure as the feel of her climax.

A few heavy heartbeats later he slowly pried his eyes open. Bettina still sat upright atop him, panting, her blonde curls a mess, wet lips parted. Ty looked down to where they were joined and felt his balls tighten again. His fingertips danced across her belly and up to her lush pink breasts. Then lightly brushed across her swollen nipples. They were darker than he remembered.

She opened her eyes and smiled down at him. "Morning."

Ty laughed, relief washing over him. He felt, for the first time in ages, as if the world might be all right. "Hungry?" he asked, still smiling.

"Not anymore." She grinned. Sliding off, Bettina lay beside him, her arm thrown across his belly.

He chuckled and watched her walk to the bathroom. The cheeks of her bottom peeked out from under the shirt she’d slipped on, making him grin. When she returned and lay back down next to him, he asked, "Would you do me a favor?"

"What’s that?"

"Would you wake me up like that every morning?"

"Why Ty Boudreaux, you sex fiend!"

Last night’s nightmares were too fresh and shades of Rhea had him retreating. "I’m sorry."

He rolled out of bed on shaky legs and made it to the bathroom before she could respond.

Chapter Eleven

WHERE IS THE LOVE?

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. God save me from sensitive men. Once I felt sure he was in the shower, I cracked the door open. "Ty!"

"What?"

"I’m coming in."

"Okay."

I don’t know what set him off but I wasn’t about to let this go. We needed to reach some sort of understanding. I slipped off my shirt and climbed in the shower behind him.

He jumped and clutched the soap and washcloth to his chest, as if they could cover him. "What are you doing in here?"

"I said I was coming in." My goosebumps had goosebumps and my nipples were painfully hard.

"I didn’t realize you meant in here!"

I couldn’t help myself, my eyes slipped down Ty’s body. It’d been months since the first time I’d seen him naked. Nice to know my memory still worked. A red flush worked its way up his neck and across his face. Putting on my best brazen act, I slipped closer. "Ty, I was teasing earlier."

"I know."

"No you didn’t," I said, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. It was also becoming increasingly obvious that my new husband didn’t like confrontations. But why?

"Well, I do now."

"Alright then. Want me to scrub your back?" I didn’t know whether to laugh or be hurt at the shocked expression on his face. I pointed at the shower curtain. "Or should I leave?"

He looked at me, the debate in his eyes clear. At that moment I seriously doubted, he and That Bitch had ever showered together. Not that I intended to ask.

I held out my hand for the soap and washcloth. Ty finally handed them over and turned around.

His back was even red.

I soaped the washcloth, then took my sweet time scrubbing every inch of his backside, watching the tension drain from his body as I worked my way down his legs and back up.

"Turn around."

He did, slowly. When Ty faced me, I knew why he’d been so reluctant. He was hard again. Red-faced, he held out his hand for the washcloth. I smiled and shook my head, ignoring his request. Instead, I reached down and washed his genitals with the soapy cloth. The poor baby looked miserable like he couldn’t decide whether to give in or protest. But his dick didn’t seem to agree; it twitched in my hand.

"What’s wrong?" I moved closer and kneaded his sac.

His reaction was instantaneous. He moaned loud, his eyes drifting shut.

"Ty." I rolled my eyes. "We talked about this. I’m your wife, and I like it when we—" I paused to lick my lips and give his cock a few slow strokes, "—you know."

"I know," he whispered, voice husky. His balls twitched under my hand. I grinned, gently rubbing the insides of his thighs. He flushed again but smiled back this time, a little more relaxed. Sexual need winning over any embarrassment.

"What do you want?"

The expression on his face was almost hopeful as his cock twitched again.

"Right here?" I reached down and palmed his sac again with my soapy fingers even as warm water rinsed the lather away. His eyelids at half mast, Ty stared down at my hand sliding across his belly, then back up at me, licking his lips.

"You want me right here, Ty?" I wanted him to answer me.

He nodded, a pained expression crossing his face.

"Yes? Here?" I pushed one eyebrow up.

"Here, right here." He thrust his hips into my hand with a long, low groan and pinned me against the wall in a deep, hungry kiss.

So we did, right there in the shower and ended up back in bed to finish.

"Are you hungry?" Ty asked, when we came up for air a while later, snuggled up beneath damp, cotton sheets.

"Yeah, but I don’t eat mac ‘n cheese for breakfast."

He chuckled and rolled on his side, propped up on one elbow. "I can cook eggs, too."

Lucky for Ty, I do know how to cook.
We had French toast and bacon instead.

"Leave me the keys to your house and we’ll go get your stuff."

I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. "Huh?"

"You told Tim you wanted us to get your stuff today?"

I nodded and shoved the fork into my mouth, wondering what else Tim had told him. "What are we going to do with the old furniture?"

"I know a women’s shelter that can use it," he replied between bites. He’d thought of everything.

"That’s a great idea. Can you give them the dining room table, too?" I asked, a hopeful smile on my face.

Go furniture go!

Ty’s head jerked up and he nodded. "I suppose, if you want."

"And ya’ll can bring over my dining room set?"

"Sure. Just make a list." He nodded and continued eating.

I suppose it was too soon to ask for my own bed. My bed with a brand new mattress that no one but me had ever slept on.

"Want me to grab some takeout on my way home?" As much as I loved Ty, I figured I had better establish up front that I didn’t cook after working until seven at night. Period. Hopping up, I rinsed my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher.

"If you want, but Momma sent all those leftovers and cake."

"Oh that’s right! We’ll have those. I should be home by six-thirty but I’ll call you for sure." One quick kiss on his sugary, red lips and out the kitchen door I flew. I figured I earned it for cooking breakfast.

After our escapade in the shower,
"Kill Him With Affection"
had become my new motto. He was like a kid in a candy store about sex, and I didn’t see any reason not to use it to my advantage.

Looked like a win-win situation.

In the bedroom, I dug through the closet and drawers that still needed to be straightened out, trying to find something to wear. Something comfortable. Hopefully the new Sketchers I ordered would arrive today. I’d had it with heels. For now, a cheap pair of mules I’d picked up at the mall would have to do. I slipped into some black yoga pants and purple paisley tunic blouse, then headed for the bathroom where I dried my hair and pulled it up in a ponytail.

I smoothed on another coat of moisturizer and started on my makeup, acutely conscious of Ty in the next room getting dressed. I snuck peeks as he yanked a form-fitting thermal undershirt over his muscular back and tucked it into a pair of worn jeans.

Eyeliner brought Ty wandering in. He stood at the door, watching me. Liquid eyeliner application is not something you want an audience for, but I managed.

"What’s that for?"

"To dry the eyeliner." I smiled, fanning my eyelids.

"You look nice," he said softly.

"Thanks." I peered at him through tiny slits. "You leaving already?"

"Yeah. I’m sure they’re wondering where I am." But he didn’t move and the clean smell of soap tickled my nose.

I opened my eyes a bit wider and reached into my makeup case for eyeshadow, wondering if he’d kiss me goodbye or if I’d have to do the deed.

"That’s how you make your eyes look like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like cat’s eyes. I always thought they looked like cat’s eyes." His cheeks were red as he turned away. "Gotta run."

He wasn’t getting off so easy. "Ty."

"Huh?" He spun back around, a bashful smile on his face. He’d barely gotten three steps.

I set down my eyeshadow and sashayed across the carpet. Grabbing his face in both hands, I drew his mouth down to mine. Our mouths melded together, and I could still taste the powdered sugar from the French toast on his lips. I teased him with my tongue, until with a low moan, he clutched my hips and ground himself against me.

So much for control.

Pulling away, we both glanced over his shoulder at the clock. Eight-fifteen. I had plenty of time but he’d catch hell-or a take a hell of a lot of ribbing-for ‘sleeping in.’

"Yes or no, baby?" This wasn’t what I had in mind when I thought up my love him to death plan, but hey, any port in a storm.

"I want you." His voice shook the tiniest bit, but the look on his face as he leaned down to nip at my ear was positively hungry. I moaned and ground against him, offering my neck. Damn, three times in one morning was an absolute record.

Clothes went flying and we tumbled into bed. Mindblowingly intense, the sex was quick and hot and over before I knew it.

* * *

I breezed into The Blue Moon to find an assortment of boxes decorating my office.
UPS delivers.
I smirked at my treasure trove of luscious baby goodies. Even though I had no clue as to the baby’s sex, I’d still ordered pink...and blue...and yellow ...and any other color I could find baby clothes in.

The day flew by, and in between customers we all unpacked the clothes and fussed over tiny gowns with matching booties and hats. I’d gone overboard and enjoyed every minute of it.

"Did you leave anything for anyone to buy you, say for a shower gift?" Cassi asked over a lunch of Italian in my office.

"Of course, I did." I paused between bites of chicken Caesar salad to smile.

"Honey, you’re not even due for almost five more months."

"And it’ll be here before you know it," Tara said, strolling in. "Furniture delivery, including the cradle, rescheduled for delivery to your new abode the Monday before Thanksgiving."

"Can ya’ll believe Thanksgiving is just next week?"

"Seems like Labor Day was just yesterday," Cassi quipped, stretching out on the couch. "What are ya’ll planning for the holiday?"

"I have no clue. Ty hasn’t said." We’d been too busy screwing like rabbits. Which I took at least half the blame for. I smothered another grin behind a piece of chicken.

"What about Angelina?" Tara asked.

"Not a peep from her since she left a message about not coming home. And I left one about the wedding."

Not even a congratulations or Sis, you’re a real dumbass.

"Think she’s okay?"

I’m sure she’s fine." But I wasn’t sure and promised myself I’d call her first chance I got. A quiet Angi was not a good thing.

* * *

Hungry and tired, I walked in the door to find Ty stretched out on the couch.
My couch.
My heart stopped all over again. My denim sofa and chair had replaced the white sectional, and my mahogany dining table and chairs sat in the little dining area. In the living area, eight by twelve feet of hideous white Berber was now hidden under a bright block pattern rug.

He hadn’t forgotten. The place almost felt like home. A couple more rugs, some new curtains, my books and lamps, and we’d be set.

I felt like crying.

Instead, I smiled and gingerly kicked off my shoes, balancing a box of sleepers and baby gowns in one hand.

"Need some help?" He looked up at me. All showered and squeaky-clean, dressed in baby blue sweats and a navy t-shirt that was stretched across his broad shoulders. A fringe of pale blonde bangs covered his forehead, making him look all of seventeen instead of thirty.

"Yeah, if you don’t mind. There’s another box in the car."

"What’d you get?" He stood and headed in my direction.

"Baby clothes," I confessed with a sheepish grin. "I ordered them last week."

"I’ll go get it. I left you a plate on the counter." He took the box from my hands and set it on the dining table before slipping past me and heading out into the chilly evening air.

I glanced at my watch and winced. Nearly seven and I’d forgotten to call. No wonder he’d eaten without me.