Once In A Blue Moon

by Celia Stewart

  Dusk crept in through the living room windows, the television was off and he could hear music. Sounded like Sheryl Crow. He breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the kitchen where he found Bettina puttering at the counter and quietly singing along. He leaned against the corner of the refrigerator to watch, afraid he’d startle her.

  Not only did she sing, she shook her terrycloth-covered ass. Until she finally turned around and caught him grinning at her.

  “What? You don’t like my singin’?” She held out a spoon full of red juice and Ty had no choice but to open wide and swallow.

  “Raspberries.” He licked his lips at the twangy taste.

  “Found ‘em in the freezer.” She grinned. She still looked a bit pale but better than she had that morning.

  “You just looked cute, is all.” He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “You like me all domestic, huh?” Snapping a lid on the berries, she stored them in the fridge.

  “Much better than heating up a plate and eating in front of the television.” He nodded at the table she’d set. Red place mats, bright blue plates and green glasses with bubbles in them. Mexican glass. Ty thought it looked cozy.

  He watched her hover over the chicken and circled behind her, leaning against the kitchen sink for a better view. Her hips swayed from side to side as she flipped chicken and stirred what smelled like macaroni and cheese.

  Who would have thought cooking could be so sexy?

  He grinned, then bit his lip, praying she didn’t turn around and catch him. Twice in five minutes would be too hard to explain. But he’d never had Kitchen Sex before.

  She turned around, and his eyes slowly traveled upward. Behind her, the stove slowed its sizzle and pop. She’d turned the burners off and now smiled at him, invitingly, while slipping off the jacket that matched her fancy sweat pants. Next came the dark purple T-shirt.

  “See something you like?” Her hands cupped the lavender bra that barely held her lush breasts in check.

  He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, his jeans unbearably tight. “Absolutely.”

  She unsnapped it and slid it off, floating across the floor and into his arms. Mouths met and tongues melded. He wanted her. Right there in the kitchen. He wanted to lean her over that pretty table and bury himself inside her.

  He led her to the table and pushed the chairs aside...

  “Ty. Earth to Ty.” Bettina stood in front of him, fully dressed and snapping her fingers.

  His grip on the counter’s edge was almost painful, his face burned with need and embarrassment and his erection throbbed. Please don’t let her notice.

  “What?”

  “Would you pour us some tea?”

  He nodded, the grin tearing across his face again. He cupped her face with both hands and planted a big smacking kiss on her surprised lips, then yanked open the refrigerator door. Behind him, he heard a giggle. Tuning it out, he poured the tea, placed the pitcher on the table and moved to lean against the counter in the same spot. This time, she turned and kissed him for real but with her shirt on.

  All the tumblers on some invisible lock clicked into place and a door in his mind swung open. Something about her, there, at that moment just felt incredibly right. He ran his hands down her back and cupped the cheeks of her ass. He felt something more than lust, but that too.

  He kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in forever, and in a way, he hadn’t. There wasn’t an inch of her that he couldn’t feel, but it wasn’t just sex he wanted. It was something deep and soft and warm and comfortable that he felt snuggled in his wife’s arms. Finally, he pulled free, coming up for air. “The chicken?”

  “It’s done,” she whispered, voice husky.

  “We should eat.” But he didn’t want to let her go. He kissed her again, his lips devouring her soft, full ones. “I want you. God, I want you, Bettina.”

  “Oh, Ty.” She arched her neck and he found that tender spot from last night. That same one that made her squirm and squeal. She chattered nonsense even as he bit her and her fingers unsnapped his jeans. Then he felt her hands on him. Her long skillful fingers wrapped around his cock.

  His own skimmed the waistband of her sweats before plunging inside, no longer shy as he squeezed lush curves through her silky panties. “You have the nicest ass.”

  “Is that what started this?” she teased, her voice soft and husky.

  “Absolutely.” He nodded and, in between kisses, yanked the T-shirt over her head, grappling with her lacy, purple bra until he finally got it unhooked. He pushed her pants down and paused to admire every long, curvy inch of her. His fingers dipped between her thighs until he found her swollen clitoris. Her flesh was tender and wet. She moaned and pursed her lips, hips arched and nails digging into his arms as she clung to him.

  “The table,” she gasped, pulling away. “Or here?”

  “Table.” He nearly fell untangling his jeans from his feet. Bettina dragged him to the table and pushed him down in a chair. “No!”

  She paused in the middle of straddling his lap and frowned down at him. Her breath came in short puffs. He leaned forward and rested his head on her belly, savoring the musky scent of her warm flesh.

  This was his fantasy, after all. He slowly stood up and caught one pert nipple in his mouth. Clutching her to him, he swept the dishes out of the way and pushed her back against the table. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hand on his cock, guiding him inside her before she was even on her back. A shiver ran down his spine.

  God, she felt good.

  It’d been a long time since he’d been in charge in more ways than one, but he finally got it right, his strokes long and smooth, and she met each one. He wrapped an arm around her, his face buried in her neck, and kneaded one breast with his free hand.

  This was ten times better than any fantasy.

  “Hurry, Ty. Oh, God.”

  Her nails dug into his back, driving him on. “Oh, Bee.”

  “Yes, Ty!”

  He leaned down and pulled a tight, puckered nipple in his mouth. God she felt like heaven.

  Soft and wet, tight and lush, ripe, slick, hot and warm.

  “Faster.”

  Faster he went while trying to hold back his own orgasm, afraid he’d leave her behind.

  Beneath him she screamed and bucked and clung to him, taking him over the edge with her. He flew, his heart stopped, he couldn’t catch his breath as he slammed into her, praying he didn’t hurt her. The more he let go, the higher he climbed, and the further he lost himself. He shouted to match her screams. His body tense, he couldn’t stop thrusting until, with one long, loud moan, he felt the grip on his chest and lungs ease up. He could breathe. Jesus!

  A ghost walked across his grave and he shivered again. He still had his face buried in Bettina’s breasts and was almost afraid to look at her. Damn, what if I hurt her.

  Somehow he’d gotten hold of one of her legs and clutched a handful of ass. He slowly released it and opened his eyes. Ty looked to the left and right. They’d cleared the table and probably broken all her pretty dishes.

  Shit. She was crying. Beneath him, he felt her shudder from the sobs. Slowly he raised his head. Tears streamed from her closed eyes and her face was all scrunched up.

  “Bee? Baby? What’s wrong?” He scooted up, no longer worried she’d be mad but scared to death he’d hurt her. Or worse yet, the baby. She took a couple of deep breaths, and her eyes fluttered open. He stroked her hair away from her face. “Did I hurt you?” God, I hope not.

  She shook her head no.

  “Then what is it?”

  She looked at him, as if struggling for words, then cried harder. He made to get off her, but she yelped and clung to him. His thighs began to shake from standing bent over.

  “Baby, I’m too heavy. Lemme get up, okay? I won’t leave you.”

  She nodded, and he slipped free and stood upright, bringing her with him.

  “Wrap your legs and arms around
me and hang on.”

  In the bedroom he laid a silent Bettina down on the bed and curled up next to her. Even with a red nose, she looked pretty. He pulled her close, and she rested her head on his chest. “Better now?”

  “Yeah?” Her voice was thick with tears.

  “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” That had to be it. Just had to.

  “You ... you weren’t any rougher than I was.” She smiled up at him, her green eyes crystal-clear. “I think I scratched you pretty bad.”

  “I’m fine. Are you sure?” He caught her gaze and held it, mesmerized, then slowly rolled her over, cupped her face and kissed her long and deep. The exact opposite of what had happened earlier in the kitchen.

  Ty sipped at her lips, gently exploring the feel of them beneath his, every nuance, the supple texture of her lower lips caught between his, the feel of her mouth opening beneath his and her sleek velvety tongue teasing his in return.

  “Absolutely,” she replied with a grin.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aliens, ice cream, and girlfriends

  When I woke up the next morning Ty was gone again. I stretched and smiled, one thought flittering through my mind.

  Ty Boudreaux is a horn-dog. Correction, he’s my horn-dog.

  And Rhea had called him clueless. Shy maybe, but nowhere near clueless. Especially, on the kitchen table. I fanned myself and giggled, heading for the kitchen where the smell of coffee tickled my nose.

  He’d even cleaned up the mess we made. What a night!

  The bouquet of flowers he’d brought me was nowhere in sight. I think they fell victim to our kitchen gymnastics.

  What had happened to my husband? Had he been captured by aliens while he was out doing ... whatever? Something had changed. I just couldn’t put my finger on what. I still had no idea where he’d gone or what time he’d gotten home and refused to ask. The clouds that normally shaded his green eyes were long gone. A successful outing? I knew damn good and well he hadn’t gone to get feed, but for once, I chickened.

  No, I obeyed Rule Number Ten: Don’t Ask Questions You Don’t Know the Answer To. Sort of like being a lawyer.

  I didn’t know the answer and I damn sure didn’t feel the need to give him another opportunity to lie to me. Despite all his TLC, my inner skeptic was still shouting warnings about the other shoe dropping, a feeling I didn’t much care for.

  I’d woken up from my nap yesterday to find him sitting on the back porch, reading a book. He’d even offered to read to me. I declined with a smile. That was a bit much. Then he’d fed me, kissed my fingers and dragged me inside for another nap--with him. And hadn’t left me all afternoon.

  Definite alien abduction. Honestly, I wasn’t used to being babied, not since, well, since I had the flu before my dad left. I’d been eight.

  It was a little weird.

  But no matter how his mom, sister-in-law or his ex-wife felt, he was mine, by damn, and I had the marriage license to prove it. Maybe my little plan to smother him with affection was working too good. I grinned. Impossible.

  No way was I missing another day of work, even if I didn’t have to be in for a couple of hours. I was dressed and out the door before any more of my in-laws decided to come calling again.

  * * * *

  General Cassi showed up in my office in the middle of breakfast and bill paying, wanting to know where I’d been yesterday.

  “Did Ty do something?” she demanded. She stood at the door, arms crossed, a frown on her face.

  “Ty’s fine. He didn’t do anything.” Actually, he did a lot, but I wasn’t in the mood to share.

  “You’re not just defending him, are you?” Cassi flopped on the couch, rifling through my bag of breakfast burritos from Taco Cabana.

  I shook my head. “He was great. Really.” Except for his little disappearing act. I slowly spun around in my chair and propped my feet on the little coffee table. “I had a visitor yesterday morning.”

  Her eyebrows slowly rose as she sank into the cushions, my extra burrito in her hot little hands. Payback for stealing all those eggrolls.

  “Jessa.”

  “That short brunette with Cher-hair?” she asked, frowning.

  I laughed. “You mean the Cher-do, circa nineteen-seventy? Yeah, but it’s not that bad.”

  “Sister needs some bangs or something.”

  “Stop it!” Once my giggles had subsided, I continued. “She said she’d kick my ass if I hurt Ty and some shit about running with the herd. Then Ty came in after she left and caught me crying.”

  “Crying? I can’t believe that tiny little thing threatened you? Sounds like girlfriend’s spent too much time with the horses,” Cassi snickered.

  I joined in, unable to help myself. She did have a way of always putting things in perspective. “I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something.” I paused to turn it all over in my mind again. “It didn’t come off as just an average welcome-to-the-family warning, but a full-fledged threat!”

  “Did you tell Ty?”

  “No, hell, no. We’ve been married two days and I’m fighting with my in-laws. Maybe after Thanksgiving,” I added with a grin. “No sense ruining our first holiday together.”

  * * * *

  My last appointment canceled, so Cassi and I took off for Home Depot to pick out paint. We’d decided to at least paint the nursery on Sunday since the furniture was due for delivery Monday. The rest of the house could wait.

  After forty minutes of arguing and driving every sales clerk in a fifty-yard radius batty, we ended up agreeing on “Sugar,” a pale warm pink, for the house and one wall of the nursery. We left with a quart each of Sugar, Airy, Morning Sunlight, and Sea Cap, also known as blue, yellow and green, and an assortment of brushes, rollers and plastic tarps, and headed back to the salon so I could drop her off.

  “Will you be alright?”

  “With Jessa? Absolutely.” I grinned. That was Ty’s ‘word.’ “I mean, hell, she’s more pregnant than I am.”

  Cassi chuckled as she opened the door and climbed out. “Then I won’t offer to kick her ass for you. Sure Ty won't mind about us coming over to paint on Sunday?”

  “Thanks, girl. And no I don’t think he’ll mind.” I wasn’t used to something as simple as checking my schedule--or ideas--with someone else. Guess I’d better ask.

  “You’re welcome. Get some rest, and watch your back around Ms. Prego. She might belly bump ya or something.”

  I waved goodbye one more time and giggled all the way home. Belly-bump. I didn’t have a belly yet but it was definitely in the works.

  When I got home, the house was dark, and Ty’s truck was gone. I’d completely forgotten today was Thursday and I hadn’t seen him all day. Not since last night.

  * * * *

  The clock on Ty’s night stand flashed 3:00 a.m. in big red digits. I blinked and stretched, focusing on the ceiling. What had woken me up? A door? “Ty?”

  No answer. I slipped out of bed, stopping in the hallway to turn up the heat, and peeked into the living room. Everything looked fine, but in the kitchen the microwave dinged.

  “Ty?” Louder this time. He came through the kitchen door, a plate in his hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “You coming to bed?”

  “Lemme eat and get a shower.” He looked as tired as I felt with his hair plastered to his head and his shoulders drooping.

  I’d missed having him in bed with me and I wanted to go hug on him a while, maybe sit in his lap. Instead, I forced myself to turn around and wait in bed like a good girl. Not a clingy nitwit who couldn’t move without her husband at her side.

  A little while later we were curled up together under the blankets. “How was it?”

  “How was what?” he asked, spooning me, his body still warm and damp from the shower.

  “The bar. Your day. Your night. I haven’t seen you all day,” I mumbled.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, silly. Just wanted you to know I missed y
ou.” I drowsily squeezed the arms wrapped around me, inhaling the scent of Dial soap.

  I was a clingy nitwit.

  “I missed you, too. What’s all that paint and stuff on the dining room table?”

  “Cassi and I are painting the nursery on Sunday--if that’s okay with you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  Saturday morning I very reluctantly left Ty sleeping and headed to work early. I had a very full day scheduled. But I hadn’t seen him until late Friday night either and missed the coziness of Tuesday and Wednesday. This isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re normally Ms. Ultra Independent.

  On my way out, I passed Mrs. Boudreaux walking toward Zack and Jessa’s, an empty plate in her hands. Great.

  “Morning.” I wondered how long I’d feel like an outsider. Maybe until we had grandkids? That thought made me blink.

  “Well, good morning, Betti.” The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. I had to hand it to her though--but for a touch of silver in her auburn hair and smile lines around her green eyes--the same green eyes as Ty’s--she looked remarkable. I hope I look as good at her age. “Off to work?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I’d just regressed to my elementary school days where every woman was Ma’am. Never let ‘em see ya sweat. I gave her my best smile.

  “Feeling better?

  “I’m fine, thanks. Just a bad tummy.” And a bad sister-in-law. “Oh, before I forget, are we doing anything for Thanksgiving? My sister. I need to let her know ... something ... soon.”

  “We eat around two. We can go over the menu at Sunday supper. I forgot you had a sister! I suppose you two are close.”

  She forgot? Sunday supper? “Thank you, but I have plans on Sunday. And yeah, we’re sort of close. She thinks I’m overbearing, and I think she’s a brat sometimes, but she’s my baby sister so...” I let my words trail off and shrugged.

  “Don’t you fret about Sunday. I’ll take a walk over. I wondered what had happened to her after Polly passed. I thought she’d gone to live with your daddy or something.”