Once In A Blue Moon

by Celia Stewart

  “Have a real marriage ... with sex.”

  Sex was good. His face grew steadily hotter and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Or talk. Sex with Bettina was very good. “Sounds good to me. Sure, whatever works.”

  “So, you’re willing to try, give us a hundred percent?”

  A real marriage, not roommates. A friend. A lover. He studied their hands, hers all pale and soft against his big rough ones. “Absolutely.”

  “Then let's go get married.”

  * * * *

  The cake and flowers were beautiful and so was his bride. Momma and Jessa both cried. The wind died down, the sun came out and gave them a beautiful fall day despite the occasional brisk gust. Everything went off without a hitch. He’d done it. The one thing he’d sworn to never do again. Get married.

  Around sundown he wandered out to the back porch and accepted a glass of scotch and a cigar from his dad. A couple of small sips wouldn’t kill him or arouse suspicion. But he’d have to skip the Xanax tonight--the Xanax he’d hidden in his dresser drawer.

  “You gonna make it there, Bub?” Zack smiled at him from his spot next to Dad.

  Ty laughed and ducked his head. “I’m tired.”

  “You not sleeping again?” His dad frowned up at him in obvious concern.

  “Too much excitement, I guess.” He shrugged it off, hoping they’d let it go. He wasn’t in the mood for any thing--teasing or more smothering.

  By the time he got home, Bettina’s friends were gone and she was sound asleep on the couch. Dressed in sweats and her face scrubbed free of makeup, she looked plumb worn out. He quietly stripped to his boxers and pulled back the sheets, then went back to get her.

  “What are you doing?” She locked her arms around his neck and sleepily hung on.

  “Putting you to bed. The couch is no place for a pregnant woman.”

  “I hate that couch,” she grumbled. She needed her rest.

  “So do I.” More than she knew. He laid her down and covered her with the sheet and blanket, then stretched out on his side. Despite the little bit of scotch, sleep was a while in coming. He was too aware of Bettina sleeping on the other side of the bed. The irony didn’t escape him. He was sleeping with his new wife in the same bed he’d shared with his last wife. It was like something out of a cheesy drama.

  He flopped on his stomach and wrapped an arm around one pillow.

  Dammit, not tonight!

  He was dreaming, but he couldn’t stop it. Lost in the same dismal dream he’d had ever since Rhea had left him. Lost in the dark and gloom. Running in a tunnel with no end and fighting for oxygen. Up ahead he saw a light. He ran toward it, through it and came to a screeching halt at the sight of his ex-wife standing under his favorite cottonwood tree.

  But from there everything changed.

  “Too late. You lose!” She held a baby carrier on her arm. An empty one.

  She’d taken his baby. His stomach knotted up even tighter. He tried to catch his breath and process it all. Tried to tell himself it was all a dream. Struggled to break free of the dream’s smothering grip.

  He felt the bed dip and a hand on his shoulder, but he still couldn’t wake up.

  The Rhea-Demon strolled closer, swinging the carrier. So close he could see the cracks in her makeup. The thought of what might be underneath scared the hell out of him. “You didn’t honestly think I’d let you...”

  “Ty!” Someone shouted, interrupting her vicious rant.

  “You or the baby, Ty, it’s you or...”

  “Ty honey, wake up.”

  “No!” He jerked upright, struggling for air and covered in sweat, his heart beating a spastic rhythm. He wanted out of the bed. He wanted to be outside in the cold night air but something was in his way.

  He jumped at the feel of someone’s hands in his hair, gently pushing it back from his face.

  “Are you alright?”

  Bettina. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and she wiped it away.

  “Ty,” she whispered.

  “Huh?” he grunted, eyes still closed. Still panting. He’d probably scared the hell out of her.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  He nodded, shivering from the cooling sweat as his heart finally slowed and found a semi-normal beat.

  “Do you want a shower?” Her hands were still in his hair.

  He nodded again.

  “I’ll be right back, okay?” She squeezed his shoulder and eased off the bed.

  At the sound of running water, he stumbled after her, leaning against the doorjamb. The harsh light made him blink.

  “Are you ready?”

  Ty mumbled his thanks, a hank of hair falling across his forehead. He flinched when she reached for him, but all she did was push his hair off his face. After Bettina left, he shucked his boxers and stepped under the hot spray.

  Fear and anger brought the tears. The Rhea-Demon in his nightmares wanted his child. She wanted his happiness. And one way or another, she’d get it. He couldn’t even tell Bettina about the dream.

  Not without fessing up about Rhea’s abuse and that would never happen.

  * * * *

  Ty drowsily snuggled into the warm, sweet-smelling body next to him. The scent tickled his nose and reminded him of riding through a field of spring flowers. She was soft, and he was hard.

  Very, very hard.

  And he could feel the swell of her belly where their baby grew. He’d made a baby, and he wanted Bettina. His fingers traced the contours of her backbone and dipped into the hollow at the base of her spine. Even through the old T-shirt, she felt soft.

  She squirmed against him, and still a little unsure of himself, he tugged her shirt up. One of her long legs slid across his, and Ty felt the air whoosh out of his lungs.

  He was so hard.

  One of her hands played with his hair and he ate it up. Bolder now, he reached beneath her shirt and trailed his fingers across her silky warm skin. His hands skimmed her hips through her panties and ran up her spine again. She shivered and nestled closer.

  Back down her side now, Ty’s hand moved across her hips to the long leg thrown across his. He explored, enjoying the feel of her, knowing instinctively that she was aroused. Impatient, he pushed at her panties, wanting to feel her bare skin, to touch her.

  “Hang on,” she whispered, scooting away and slipped them off. He watched her, eyes half closed, and did likewise, pleasantly surprised to find her hands on him. Just like last time. Rhea had never touched.

  He shoved the thought away, content to let Bettina lead again as she pushed him back. She kissed his neck while her hand stroked his cock.

  “God, yes.” He’d died and gone to heaven. He smiled only to grunt in surprise at the feel of her teeth nipping his earlobe.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. Her voice didn’t sound sorry.

  “Do it again.” Maybe marriage to Bettina wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

  She did, straddling him and nipping his neck. Ty cried out when she found the sensitive spot at the crook of his neck. He liked the feel of her on him. He felt safe, cradled and almost content as she slipped over him and took his cock inside her.

  She was wet, and he hadn’t even touched her. Bettina moaned in his ear, “God, I love morning sex.”

  He buried one hand in her long hair and groaned. She was so soft and wet, he wanted to come. He didn’t though, not yet. This time he’d get it right. His hands skimmed her back as she draped herself over him and continued to ride him.

  “Do you like that?” she whispered softly in his ear. Her hips shimmied in long, smooth strides.

  “Yes.” Ty wished he could watch her but was too shy to ask. His moan, endless and low, came from deep within. He was so close. “Bettina!”

  “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 at 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 stroked 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 didn'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 my shirt off 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 looked 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 y’all 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.

  “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.” Hopping up, I rinsed my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher. One quick kiss on his sugary, red lips an
d out the kitchen door I flew. I figured I’d 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 was not something you wanted 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.