Fight Like A Mitchell

Home > Other > Fight Like A Mitchell > Page 3
Fight Like A Mitchell Page 3

by Jennifer Foor


  Miranda sits across the table from me. She’s giving me this look, the kind that implies she’s up to something naughty. Of course I picture it being something we’ll get into later on and my mood starts looking up. Then I glance over at Colt. His defined jaw chomps on the meat as he chews. His eyes are focused on his food, his head low. He’s quiet. Too quiet. When I bring my eyes up to see Van beside me, she’s staring at her husband. I know better than to think she’s not onto Colt. Whether he suspects it or not, she’s fully aware something isn’t right with him.

  I clear my voice to grab their attention. “So, What’s going on with the fundraiser? Are the kids handling everything this year?”

  “So far,” Van acknowledges. “Shalan is having some well-known singers join her for a concert. They’ll be donating all of the proceeds to the fundraiser. She’s got the twins and Cole working on T-shirt designs. I made it a point to remind her that I’ll need to make the final decision. Knowing the boys, they’ll put something vulgar about tits all over them.”

  “Isn’t it about saving the tits?”

  “It’s about curing cancer actually.”

  “My bad. Tits, Cancer, it’s all important to me.”

  Van smirks and takes another bite of dinner. “What did you two do while we were gone?”

  Colt takes the lead. “Got the tree all cut up and the wood stacked to cure for next winter. Made the dinner you’re eating. Hung out and enjoyed the quiet.”

  “We got massages and manicures,” Miranda announces while showing off her petite fingertips done in a bright pink color.

  I flash them my hands and speak in a high-pitched voice. “So did we. We took mud baths in the nude and then Colt and I laid out on the large rocks watching nature all around us. We were hip to hip, embracing our manhood in the wild.”

  “Yeah, what he said,” Colt adds with a chuckle.

  Miranda, my beautiful spunky wife finds this entertaining. “Sounds hot. Two burly men becoming one with nature.”

  “Yeah,” I start. “Kind of like that ape porn everyone saw Jax watching.”

  Colt puts his fork down. “You’re making me lose my appetite.”

  “You started it,” I remind him.

  “Let’s just say we all had a nice relaxing afternoon. No details needed,” Van offers to settle her husband’s weak stomach.

  It’s quiet again, and I feel my cheeks heating up when I think about the embarrassing secret Colt is keeping from his wife. If she only knew. If I could joke about it maybe it would lighten the mood. But I can’t. There’s no way I can break my promise to my cousin. “So, speaking of stomach aches, Colt, did you ever get that colonoscopy?”

  His dark eyebrow lifts with an accusatory stare, like I’ve gone from one sick topic to the next. Somehow dinner conversations always turn to shit by dessert. It’s not even intentional.

  “Just asking. Old people talk about doctor visits.”

  “Are you implying we’re old?” He questions.

  “We’re all getting up there. We’re grandparents. I’m not ashamed, because with age comes wisdom, right honey?”

  “That’s right, darlin’.” Colt chippers up after her comment.

  “I was thinking I might do some fishing tomorrow morning. You girls want to take the pontoon boat out? It won’t be that cold.”

  “We were planning on tidying up the place. Maybe the two of you could go out instead. Bring home some fish to cook.”

  “Or none,” my wife says while scrunching up her face. “All you ever catch is catfish and I hate it. It’s so…”

  “Fishy,” Van finishes for her.

  “We’ll only bring home Bass.”

  “I brought chicken for tomorrow,” Miranda reminds us.

  Chuckling alongside Colt, I offer my wife a compromise. “We’ll fish and cook what we catch. You silly women can eat your chicken.”

  Miranda and Van look at each other again. “He’s about to say it,” Miranda assumes.

  Van nudges her and they take the liberty of using my famous words. “If it smells like fish eat it.”

  It was meant to be funny. I say it every time someone fishes, but when they mock it, it’s not as appealing.

  After a few games of Rummy, we retreat to our separate rooms for the night. Miranda smells so good from being at the spa that I can hardly wait to get her undressed. It never fails. On the weekends, our house is filled with grandkids, so this trip is a nice reprieve.

  Miranda heads into the bathroom, while I prepare the bed for some action. Ripping off the comforter, I toss it on the floor and tug down the sheet so it’s more welcoming. Then I strip down to my birthday suit, jump on the bed, and prop my head up with my elbow. For an added bonus, I bring one leg up and pose.

  It takes her forever, but Miranda comes out of the bathroom is a sheer robe. She stops dead in her tracks and gives me a once over, her eyes scanning my most prized possessions. “See something you like, cougar?”

  She takes her hand like it’s a claw and waves it in the air while making an animalistic growl. “Momma’s coming over, and you better be ready.”

  The robe falls to the edges of her shoulders and I take her in. She’s just as beautiful as the first time I laid eyes on her naked body. I still think about the younger years when we were just kids. Falling in love with this woman was the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. There was no warning. I fell so hard. She made me a desperate teddy bear. To this day she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. She keeps me grounded, and I keep her begging for more.

  “Stop teasing me.”

  She pulls the robe down just enough to where it won’t fall. Opening it around her waist, she rocks slowly like there’s music playing. “Like what you see?” Her teeth glide over that puffy bottom lip and I’m rock hard and ready for her to pounce.

  Reaching out for her, she slaps my hand away. “Naughty boys don’t get to be in control.”

  “Why was I naughty?” I inquire, desperate to rectify the situation. My balls are throbbing as I stare at her exposed pussy. It’s calling me like a little kitty, meow, while I salivate at the idea of feasting on her familiar skin.

  One knee comes up on the mattress and she begins to crawl in my direction. Then her robe falls off her arms, the smooth of her skin glowing off the dim lighting in the room. As she begins to climb overtop of me, I watch her biting her lip, waiting for my next reaction.

  Taking both of my hands, I run them up her thighs, until I feel her trembling beneath them. I continue until I reach the soft skin leading to her ass, and guide her movements. Knowing she’s ready to go is tormenting the hell out of me, because I know if I try to reverse rolls she’ll punish me. I hate waiting. I’m like an impatient kid at Christmas. I know the presents are in the next room but if I peek I can’t have any of them.

  I slide my fingers over her pussy just to satisfy the curiosity I already suspected. She’s so ready for me. Her body rocks in a slow groove against the back of my fingers, tempting me to slide them inside her tight walls.

  Miranda lets out a little whimper when my fingers enter her. I move my hand slowly as I use my thumb to circle her soft clit. Her head draws back, her eyes closing. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.”

  I cover her mouth as soft cries escape her lips, doing my best to be quiet in case Colt and Van can hear us. Her eyes meet mine with a drunken gaze while her tongue draws over her lips, wetting them. “Don’t make me beg.”

  Miranda wastes no time making sure she has my undivided attention. As she hovers over me, she bends her torso forward and drags her tongue over my open mouth. “Touch me, Ty.”

  Sliding my hands up her perfect waist, I cup both breasts in my palms. Without much force, I pull her down closer in order to take one into my mouth. I suck on one nipple, making it hard against my lips. As I tickle it with my tongue, I lift it just enough that she can do it with me. Our bodies are rocking as we kiss and lick simultaneously, more moans and pleasure-derived hymns sung as I continue. I want
her so turned on she withers the second I enter her tight channel.

  Next thing I know she’s guiding me there, putting enough pressure that I’m unable to resist. The moment it happens I realize the teasing only put me at a disadvantage. I’m not sure how much longer I can take how good this feels.

  Miranda rides me like I’m a wild stallion. Her body bucks against mine with her arms in the air. Before I know it, we’re both making sounds we can’t control. I manage to last a good twenty minutes, okay, probably more like ten, before she collapses on top of me the moment my body freezes and releases all I have to offer.

  We’re doused in sweat as we lay there together. I tap her on the back twice, giving a silent signal for her to move over, but she doesn’t go anywhere. “Just a couple more minutes, Ty.”

  “Baby, I’m sweating my balls off.”

  “They could stand to lose a little weight. They’re all droopy.”

  My lip curls. “Woman, you can’t dis the balls like that. They have feelings.”

  She takes her pillow and crashes it over my face. “Shut up and go to sleep or that will be the last time I ride you this weekend.”

  With her threat simmering in my head, I submit to her and roll to my side of the bed. With my back turned to her, I smile like that little kid who snuck in the cookie jar. There’s more coming if I can behave.

  Fingers crossed.

  Chapter 4

  Secrets are the devil.

  Miranda

  It’s the middle of the night and Ty is snoring in the bed next to me, but I can’t seem to fall asleep, not when the couple in the room next to me could be having problems. Van wasn’t forthcoming, but I can tell she’s worried about Colt. The signs are all there. He spends more time in his office than watching television with her in the evenings like they’re used to. When she invites him in the shower or bath, he’s always too tired. She says she feels like he doesn’t want her the way he used to. It breaks my heart, because if I know anything about him it’s that he’s crazy in love with his wife. There’s obviously something going on, and if anyone knows the truth, it’s my sleeping husband.

  I tap on his face.

  Nothing.

  I pinch his nose closed. He gasps for air, but doesn’t wake.

  I slap his cheek, he rolls over.

  Finally, I grab ahold of his shoulders and give him a good shake. Ty springs up so quickly that he head butts me right between the eyes. Covering my injured face, I fall back down on the bed in tears. “What the hell?”

  “What the hell is right? Is there a fire?”

  “No, Ty. I wanted to talk to you.”

  He picks up his phone off the nightstand and checks the time. “It’s two in the morning. What gives?”

  “I know you need your beauty sleep, but I have something important to ask you. I want you to tell me the truth.”

  He tries to comfort me by removing my hand and assessing the damage. The bright lamp is turned on causing us both to squint. “Oh that’s terrible,” I complain.

  “The bridge of your nose is bruising. I can tell Colt I dick slapped you and gave you matching black eyes.”

  Annoyed, I shove him down on the bed and straddle him to capture his full attention. “Ignore the fact that we’re still naked for one second so we can talk, okay?”

  He nods, as if it will get him more sex. This man is relentless. You’d think he’d grow of out this, but no, not Ty. He still needs sex five times a week. If he doesn’t get it, he’s like a toddler.

  “Is something going on with Colt?”

  Ty has been known to keep secrets for both Colt and Conner. It’s never anything that would harm their marriages, but usually more about big purchases they’ve made without consulting their spouses.

  Ty won’t look at me. That’s the first sign he’s keeping whatever he knows from me.

  “You know something. Spill.”

  He covers my mouth with his hand. “Shh. Don’t be so loud.”

  I’m whispering. “Just tell me. Van can tell he’s been off.”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?”

  He shrugs.

  We have a staring fit where neither of us will give in, and then when I realize he’s trying to weasel his way out of talking about it, I take matters into my own hands, literally.

  Grabbing his balls, I twist them with the jerk of my wrist. “Tell me.”

  Using his strength, Ty flips us over, while screaming in the most silent of tones. It’s almost comical to see him struggle. “I can’t, baby.”

  I let go and back away from him. “Is their marriage in trouble?”

  “No.” He scratches his head. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Liar!” I poke him. “Van is concerned.”

  “I told him she’d be able to tell something was up. It’s his problem to tell.”

  His eyes widen as I try to decipher what that means. His problem.

  “Miranda, leave it be. Please. It’s not something we need to help them with.”

  “So it’s personal? Why doesn’t he want to spend time with her anymore.”

  “He does.” He’s wiping his face again. “Jesus, please let me go back to bed. I was dreaming you were one of a set of quintuplets who wanted to share me. Do you have any idea what I can do with that many sets of tits?”

  “What the..” Lightly slapping him on the cheek, I bring him back to reality. “Can you be serious? Now you’re worrying me. What could be personal that Colt can’t talk to Van?”

  “I’m not a snitch,” he defends.

  “Is it someone else?”

  “No. Are you kidding? Who would want his old ass?”

  “His wife, that’s who.” This time I knee him in the side.

  “Ouch! As much as I like it rough, you’re skimming a thin line between pain and pleasure. How about we settle down and talk about this in the morning?” He yawns and gets comfortable on his pillow, using his arm to pull me down beside him. “Everything is going to be fine. He’ll tell Van about his problem when he’s ready. It’s sensitive. He needs time to prepare.”

  I’m staring at my husband who left the light on. He opens one eye to see if I’m still awake. “That’s creepy.”

  “Turn out the light and you won’t notice.”

  “Don’t be mad, baby. It’s nothing.”

  The light goes out, and while Ty gets comfortable again, I think about all the clues I have in front of me. It takes me a several minutes to consider the possibilities, but then I also factor in what could be so personal that even Ty wouldn’t want to tell me.

  “Oh my God. Is he impotent?”

  The light goes back on and his hand comes up over my mouth to prevent me from saying anything else. “The walls are like cardboard. Simmer down, woman. You can’t say that word out loud, not ever.”

  I’m stricken with worry. “Why hasn’t he talked to Van? This could be serious. He needs to see a doctor.”

  “He has. He said he doesn’t want to burden Van with it. It could be due to stress. You know how anal Colt is about the ranch. He’s working on figuring it out. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, so you need to keep this information to yourself. It’s not our business.”

  “He’s our cousin.”

  “Exactly. Cousin, not husband or wife. It’s a private matter.”

  “How do you know?” I’m suddenly wondering why Colt would want to confide in Ty. He’s the last person I’d go to about dick problems. I can’t even imagine the things Ty wanted to say to him once he found out.

  “I guessed that shit. He’s miserable. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t joke.”

  “Colt is fine. I may have said a couple funny things, but it was only to break up the awkward silence.”

  “Poor Colt.”

  “Poor Van,” he mocks.

  I look over at him, thankful we haven’t had to go through this ourselves. “He’s go
ing to need you.”

  “I need you,” Ty taunts while pulling me closer. Since we’re both up, let’s go another round.

  Shoving him off, I bury my body under the covers. “I can’t. We can’t. Not while they’re in the room next to us having problems. No way.”

  Ty doesn’t argue. He rolls over to his side of the bed and succumbs to his exhaustion.

  Sleep doesn’t come easy for me. I feel obligated to talk to Van, even though I know I’m going against the promise I made to Ty. If I were Van, I’d want to know. She’ll be upset if she discovers we knew before her, no matter how we came to learn the news. Colt has a medical issue that requires attention and support. He must be so upset to think that part of him isn’t working. For a man, I can’t begin to imagine how awful that is. What I don’t understand is why he won’t tell his wife. She’s the most supportive woman I know. She’d see him through this, and if things couldn’t be treated, she’d figure out other ways for them to still have an intimate and fulfilling relationship.

  I roll over and whisper in Ty’s ear. “Even if your dick stops working, I’ll still love you.”

  He mumbles a reply that I know he won’t remember. “I’ll fight through cobwebs when we’re ninety to still hit it.”

  The following morning we wake to the smell of breakfast cooking and coffee brewing. It’s like the commercials on television where the long lost family member is waiting downstairs with a mug of piping hot goodness in hand.

  I find Van in long terry cloth robe. She’s humming as she mixes pancake batter in a bowl. “Morning,” she sings.

  “Hey. You look cheerful.”

  Van shrugs. “It’s better than being worried.” She checks up the stairs before asking. “Did Ty say anything?”

  I have to look away.

 

‹ Prev