“Sorry. I’d been wearing the same stuff for—” Don’t say days, don’t say days! I urged myself. “...uh, for too long. Especially in this heat.”
“Great! I mean... uh... I’ll show you the washing machine once I’ve made breakfast.” Was it my imagination, or did he sound distracted?
“Is there really nothing I could do to help?” I asked. He was cleaning up the cracked eggs with some paper towel and I felt like their breakage was all my fault.
“You’re not touching raw eggs, that’s for sure. If you’re really in need of helping, why don’t you pour the coffee?”
I jumped up to do that. At the coffee pot, I looked around for cups.
“Mugs are in the cupboard above the coffee maker,” he said spontaneously, not even looking up. It was like he just knew exactly what I was thinking. There was a thud as the paper towel and eggshell hit the trash.
“Thanks.” I opened the doors and saw the mugs were all on the top shelf. I reached up to get them, but they were still hard to reach.
Behind me, I heard a strangled sound followed by a sigh.
“You’re not wearing any underwear.” I couldn’t tell if his tone was accusative, sensual, shocked or resigned.
“You didn’t have any g-strings,” I countered impishly.
“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” He was behind me, now, and his voice blew against the hairs behind my right ear. My neck ached for him to bite it, to claim me, and my nipples hardened painfully as they chafed the shirt. When my clit throbbed, there was nothing I could do. Without panties, at this rate there would be liquid on his floor very soon. It was so humiliating. He reached over my outstretched hands and took two mugs down from the top shelf. After leaving them on the counter he turned and walked to the stove, where he began frying oil in a pan. Another sensual encounter was over between me and the hottest cowboy in Arizona. I caught my breath and tried not to faint from excitement as I poured coffee into the cups.
“Milk? Sugar?” I asked.
“Black and sweet for me,” he replied. I grinned. That was how I liked mine, too. I put sugar in both cups and took them to the kitchen table, where I sat down again, hoping I wouldn’t make a sticky mess of the bench under my bare pussy.
Then my face burned hot as I worried he might have been able to smell me when he was standing behind me, a moment ago.
This was so embarrassing and confusing. I’d just gotten out of a really bad situation. Was this just my body craving rebound sex with anyone that moved? I wasn’t so sure. I tried to remember the rules from so many back-issues of Cosmo.
Was it one week or two weeks I should wait before dating anyone new? Half the length of the previous relationship? A year and a day? Forty days and forty nights? I was so unsure. What if we jumped into something because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, only for it to fizzle out quickly?
When eggs, bacon and hot buttery toast was put down in front of me, I seized on it with gusto and relief. First, I was hungry and eating for more than one. Secondly, I needed something to do to break the tension between us that just kept getting stronger. I wanted to rub myself on something and while I’d never been much of a prude, this was a new lack of self-control for me.
I was distracted, so the forkful of food missed my mouth, then the egg dripped off the bacon and onto my bare thigh, which wasn’t quite under the table. Instinctively, I reached down my free hand and swiped the yolk, bringing my finger straight to my mouth and sucking it clean.
There was a clatter from Lawson’s plate and when my eyes flicked over, I saw he’d dropped his fork. He frowned deeply as he picked it up, and kept his eyes on his food from then on.
Neither of us said anything. I didn’t know what to say at this point. If I opened my mouth, I’d be fighting not to say something inappropriate. I wanted him. He wanted me. But I knew we really shouldn’t. Instead I sat in the awkward silence and tried to eat.
Chapter 4
Lawson
The nearest hospital with an appointment was in Phoenix, and I called ahead before driving Alana all the way there, still in my plaid shirt. I stopped at a Target so she could pick up some clothes, but she refused to get anything except a multipack of the cheapest panties they sold, putting a pair on in the restroom as soon as they were paid for. If my mom was here, she would have given me a stern talking-to about ensuring a lady was taken care of, whether she wanted help or not.
At the hospital, I sat in the waiting room while Alana went in and at one point, a doctor came out to talk to me.
“Is she okay?” I stood up quickly, in case I needed to do something.
The doctor fixed me with a look. “Did you hit her?” she asked.
I frowned and widened my eyes at the same time, before putting my hands in front of me and shaking my head. “No! I only met her yesterday when she fainted at a gas station!”
“She won’t tell us the name of the person who caused the bruises all over her body. Do you know anything about their identity?”
I shook my head again. “All I know is she was driving down from Washington state and didn’t seem to think she’d driven far enough away from the scumbag. She didn’t want to come to the hospital.”
The doctor nodded. “I can tell that. She’s giving us virtually nothing to go on. Uh... I see she doesn’t have any insurance. I’d like to do an ultrasound...”
“I’ll pay cash,” I reassured her. “Just get her taken care of.”
The doctor nodded, looking visibly relieved. “She’ll be out in about twenty minutes.”
I sat back down again and got my phone out, sending a quick text to Clay to let him know what had gone down in his absence.
When she came out, she was gripping a piece of paper and it looked like she’d been crying. She held it out to me and I took a look. It was an ultrasound picture. I’d never really understood what all the blobs and black bits were in these pictures, but I could tell it was important to her, so I smiled.
“It’s my baby,” she said. The words were redundant but the awe in her voice spoke volumes.
“Is everything okay down there?” I asked.
She nodded dazedly. “Healthy as a clam. Or something.”
“Horse,” I corrected.
“Horse?”
“Healthy as a horse. Happy as a clam.”
She giggled. “Can it be both? I want my baby to be both. Forever.”
It warmed my heart. Whatever bad decisions she’d made in the past, it was clear that Alana adored her baby already. She was going to make a great mother. If the douchebag father stayed away.
“Now that’s settled, before we go back to Casa Nova, we’re heading over to Target again, and this time, you’re picking some clothes that will fit your bump. As much as I like seeing you in my shirt, you need some proper things to wear so you can go out and about on the ranch and in Snake Eye... what’s so funny?” I cocked my head to one side and raised a brow because she was giggling.
“You said Casanova again when you meant your house!” she replied.
I sighed and led the way back to the truck.
When we got to Target, I frogmarched her into the women’s clothing section, then we had to spend about fifteen minutes searching for the maternity section because it was hidden out of the way.
“Guess they don’t want the normal people getting contaminated with pregnancy clothes,” Alana grumbled, and I chuckled.
“Or maybe they don’t want the pregnant women catching cooties.”
“I’m pretty sure I had a cootie shot from Jessie Willis in third grade, so I’m probably safe,” she countered.
I found myself laughing a whole lot more when she was around. Usually, I hated going shopping, but she even made that fun.
“Look! This one’s so I can be Wendy from Peter Pan at Halloween!” she said, pulling an especially nightdress-looking garment off a hanger and holding it in front of her. “He can fly! He can fly!” she sang.
“And in true
Peter Pan style, you can also be Peter Pan,” I said, picking up a green tunic which was also looking like a nightgown.
“I wonder if it comes with a hat,” she cooed.
“I want to know where the Captain Hook maternity costume is,” I replied. We were laughing so hard, an assistant came over to find out what we were doing.
“Sir? Ma’am? Is there anything I can help you with?” her words were helpful-seeming, but her tone and stance were all, “get out of my clothing section and stop laughing at it all.”
“We’re good, thanks. Just choosing some things,” Alana replied. The woman gave her the head-to-toe look then marched off like she had too many important things to do.
“There’s nothing funny about boringly-designed dresses meant to disguise the basketball stuck to your front,” I said in a very serious voice, and we both burst out giggling again. Alana really made me come alive in ways no-one had since high school.
“I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t be so mean, but there’s like five things to choose from and they’re all frumpy and twice the price of normal clothes,” Alana said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “If I don’t laugh I’ll cry.”
I could honestly say I’d never been clothes shopping with a pregnant woman before and I found it very odd that there was such a lack of choice, especially given how expensive everything was.
“Get the essentials—a couple of pairs of pants, a couple of tops, and maybe a dress if you wear those,” I told her. She nodded.
We managed fine until she found the pregnancy panties.
“Why do these come up to my armpits?” she asked, holding them against her. I had no idea, but I decided I needed to tease her about it.
“Oh, I’ve heard of these,” I said, deadpan. “They’re for women living in rural remote areas... like our ranch, I guess. In case you go into labor, these will keep the baby in until you get to a hospital.”
“BAHAHAHA!” She shouted with laughter and threw the panties at me. They landed over my face which made her laugh harder, and I realized that making her laugh was even more fun than when she made me laugh. I guessed it was like that thing about Christmas presents, where it was better to give than receive. Actually, that was the same with oral sex. Damn, my brain had gone there again. I pulled the panties off my face and replaced them on the shelf. The store assistant from earlier was deep in conversation with someone else and hadn’t noticed. Good.
“How ‘bout this one?” I picked up a pretty pastel pink and gray plaid shirt dress which would reach all the way to her knees.
“You sure love plaid, don’t you?” she remarked, but she was eyeing the dress with interest, all the same. “Oh, geez, it’s thirty bucks!”
“You’re not allowed to look at the price tags,” I told her. I was adamant that she’d pick something that wasn’t from my wardrobe.
“But I can’t afford this.”
She wanted something to wear. I just needed her conscience to take a hike for a half-hour while the rest of her made good decisions. I leaned down and cupped her chin in my hand, my face inches from hers, and I spoke softly. “While you’re staying with me, you better get used to being provided for and I won’t take no for an answer.”
She nodded and I sensed I’d won this round.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and I had a sudden vision of making her say those words in that exact tone of voice after she’d swallowed my load.
In the end she picked some things, which I was relieved about because I didn’t much want to go head-to-head with her over this.
“Do you need anything from the grocery aisles?” I asked. Did pregnant women need truckloads of chocolate or was that just for women during that time of the month? All this would be so much easier if I’d ever lived with a woman for more than a few months before.
“Chocolate chip cookies?” Her face took on a cheeky grin and she looked up at me hopefully. I nodded and we walked to the cookies.
“They got cranberry,” I pointed out.
“It needs to be blueberry.”
There weren’t any blueberry ones on the shelf.
“Wait here,” I told her, disappearing for a moment. I came back with a bag of frozen blueberries. She opened her mouth but before she could say anything, I got in first.
“I’m going to cook you some of Uncle Lawson’s famous blueberry cookies,” I told her.
She looked at me in disbelief. “Really? Famous?”
“Or, maybe infamous. Guess we’ll find out when I make them for the first time. Also, I’m nobody’s uncle.”
She laughed again. “You get points for trying.”
“Good. Because I plan to take first place.”
“For what?”
I re-arranged my face into an impression of James Dean. “What have you got?”
“Huh?” Instead of making her laugh, apparently, I’d confused her.
“Never seen Rebel Without a Cause?” I was surprised.
“Never heard of it.”
Oh. I had no idea what to say about that, but I knew what we had to do.
“Blueberry cookies and movie night tonight, then,” I decided. The thought of having her soft curves pressed up against me on the sofa made my dick start to harden all over again, and it was with difficulty that I got us to the checkout and back to the ranch.
* * *
Alana
There was a lot of low-level swearing coming from the kitchen. I tried to ignore it, along with the guilty feeling I had, because my desire for cookies was the cause of Lawson’s stress.
I put the television on. There weren’t a lot of options, but I found a re-run of Skin Wars and lost myself in the competitors’ artistic processes. They were on the second challenge of the episode when Lawson came in and flopped on the sofa.
“Cookies. Baking.” He said it like a caveman who’d just wrestled a mammoth to get some steak.
“Do they contain bacon?” I couldn’t help asking.
He gave me that Rambo look that could turn butter, and I giggled. “Did you want bacon-blueberry cookies? Because I could probably cut up some bacon and put it on top before they bake much more.”
I giggled harder and shook my head. “I’m good. I don’t think I’m pregnant enough to eat bacon and blueberry cookies.”
He let out an audible sigh of relief.
“That was payback for the maternity panties,” I added, mock-primly, and punched him playfully on the arm.
“An elephant never forgets,” he teased back. I punched him harder that time and before I knew it, I was face down, ass up over his knee. My breathing got faster as my belly touched his quickly-hardening cock. The warmth of his hand resting on the crest of my ass made my clit twitch.
Was he going to spank me? Static sparked between us and I pressed my lips together, but instead of doing all the things I’d been imagining, he began to tickle my belly and I shrieked with laughter.
“Meanie!” I shot at him.
“Cock tease,” he murmured back, sliding one hand between my legs and cupping my panties. The heat of his touch made me lose all self-control and I couldn’t help it. I moaned and writhed over his knee.
“So, are you going to fuck me, now?” I asked sassily.
“Not yet.” His voice was husky and I knew he was fighting temptation. “I want to take my time over you, and there’s only twenty minutes until the cookies are done.”
I sighed wistfully and sat back up again.
Twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime. I barely paid attention to the black light body paint designs on the TV, or the drama going down between the contestants. My mind was centered around him. His arm was around my shoulder, my head resting on his chest, and I could feel the bulges of his muscles pressed hard against my soft body.
I reminded myself he’d already seen me naked, but for some reason I just wanted to head out for a few minutes, find a gym and enroll in the fastest beach body program available. Flab-to-abs in fifteen minutes would be just perfect. Could
pregnant women have abs? I glanced at the body painting on-screen and wondered if it would be quicker and easier to draw abs on my belly, and muscle definition everywhere else. I didn’t want to disappoint him. Except, he already knew what I looked like underneath his yellow and black plaid shirt—he’d bought me clothes but I was still wearing his—and he seemed to want me, anyway. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me but I couldn’t shake my jitters.
Chapter 5
Lawson
I regretted trying to bake cookies for her, because waiting those twenty minutes was driving me insane. I wanted to get her riding my cock right now.
The oven timer went off and I launched from my seat as if it was electrified. I yanked the cookies out, leaving the tray on the cold stovetop to cool.
“The cookies smell good,” she said from behind me. I spun around and my jaw dropped. She’d unbuttoned the plaid shirt and rolled up the sleeves, and I took in the form of her naked body while it was perfectly framed by my shirt. Her huge, soft breasts sat proudly, nipples pert and brushing the plaid. My gaze moved over her swollen belly, down to her pussy. There was a landing strip of fur the same shade of dark blonde as her hair.
My dick was so hard my head might have needed a blood transfusion.
“Put your hands against the wall and thrust your ass out,” I growled, pointing at an empty space where the wall would support her. When she was in position, I put my lips to her ear, even though I was sure there was no one else within a mile of the house, and murmured, “Spanking, yes or no?”
Her breath caught in her throat and when she opened her mouth, only a moan came out.
“Yes or no?” I demanded again.
“Yes. God, yes!” she cried out breathily.
“Good. Because you’ve been a very, very bad girl, teasing my cock all day, and bad girls get punished. If it’s too hard, say ‘red’ and everything stops.”
“Got it.”
I swatted her ass and my palm connected with a loud crack against her sit-spot, although I’d cupped my palm to make more noise than pain because I wanted to know how sensitive she was. I watched her cheeks ripple. She threw her head back and moaned.
Tie Me Down: Arizona Heat Book 1 Page 3
