Teaching Ms. Riggs
Page 19
“Done, I’ll even toss in twenty bucks to take her out for dinner,” Ben added, and cuffed his shoulder when his grin turned wolfish, so much like his uncle. “Scoot. Be good.”
“Always,” he replied. “Have fun.”
She followed Thomas through the laundry room, starting the waiting load so she could do the blanket later. She checked outside to see Kira dancing around Thomas’s truck. “Have fun, Kira. I love you both!”
“Love you too, Mom!” Kira shouted, climbing into the truck. “Come on, Thomas, tell her you love her or she’ll worry.”
“Love you, Mom,” Thomas yelled over his shoulder with a little wave because Kira was partially right. Ben would worry regardless of the declaration, but it was right to always leave each other with the words.
Ben turned on the security system, a long habit they all continued though the threat was currently locked in a maximum security prison in Illinois. Victoria was destined never to see civilian life again after receiving life after life sentences for more murders than Ben could think about.
She checked on the babies, safely buckled into their seats and already snoozing. After looking them over a second time, she turned on the baby monitor and headed to the bedroom.
They’d only made love twice since the delivery. She’d hoped for more, but her cesarean wound still ached at times. Six weeks in theory had seemed like forever before the surgery, but she’d learned the doctors weren’t kidding with the wait advice. Even after those weeks had passed, fatigue, the added weight, breastfeeding, exhaustion and stretch marks had all made the first time a worry for her.
She smiled as she left the door open a crack, the babies just in sight. Some physical things may have changed, but the important things had remained.
No awards would have been given out, but the intimacy had helped renew the promises between them. Mark made her feel desirable, sexy and beautiful even when she had bags under her eyes and more extra skin than she knew what to do with. In return she’d given him all her attention and done her best to make sure he knew he was all man and all hers.
Ben entered the evening-dim bedroom. It was a cluttered mess. But with the blanket out and the window open it smelled like only babies and Mark again, her favorite things.
He’d lit the room’s single rose-scented candle on the bedside table and was warming a small bottle of lubricating oil between his palms. He’d started without her all right, taking the waiting time to do the things that were sure to make her relax so they could enjoy each other.
He hadn’t noticed her yet, and turned the bottle in his hands. She watched him frown down at the words on the label. It was a new addition to their bedroom life since the breastfeeding changed things. It was important to him to make sure he never hurt her, and the knowledge that he would cut off his arm before hurting her, made her eyes sting.
He looked up and frowned more. “You okay, honey?”
She nodded, too choked up to talk. She didn’t want to cry, was just a little overwhelmed by the sudden love welling in her soul.
“Sure?” he asked, his lopsided smile hesitant.
She nodded again, stepped over the case of baby wipes in the middle of the floor, and cuddled up beside him on the bed. She hugged him hard and kissed his bare shoulder. “I just love you.”
“I love you too.” His confusion turned into warmth. She basked in it, because he only shared that warmth with her. He was a good guy for everyone, but the best parts were all hers. “Are we still using this hour for making love, or do you need a nap?”
“We have an hour and a half, and we are definitely using it to make love.” She reinforced her words by running her fingers up his abdomen. “We’ve got time for naps when we’re both in rocking chairs.”
“I’ll still want to be in bed with you.” Mark set the lube bottle down beside his pillow and laid half over her, still careful of her stomach. He brushed a kiss across her neck. “Your freckles will need intense cataloging, and it’s a job I’ll always take seriously. Outside of bed I’ll be the old guy who’s always pinching his wife’s butt in the grocery store and eyeing her cleavage in church when she bends over the dessert tray.”
“I’ll be the little old lady who loves you,” she replied. “And puts up with your butt grabbing ways and wears v-necks to bake sales.”
He kissed her mouth, lightly, teasingly, and began unbuttoning her shirt. “I’ll steal your shawl,” he promised, kissing down to her chin and neck. “And wash your dentures.”
“I’ll help you with your bunion cushions.” She wiggled out of her shirt and gasped when he gently took her nipple in his mouth. “And tell you bald is sexy.”
He was careful, so careful, with her breasts that were serving dual purpose for the next few months. She didn’t worry about what he thought about her body, because she already knew. He loved her, the rest was just details.
“I’m going to love you so well, by the time we are old enough for our rocking chairs and great-grandbabies, you’ll be ready for whatever comes next right beside me.” Mark paused to look up her body to her face. “There wouldn’t be a heaven without you, Ben, not for me.”
She stroked his cheek, so dear; he was the means of everything wonderful in her life.
“I know exactly what you mean. You’re my heaven right here on earth.”
Stephanie Beck
Stephanie Beck loves romance. Whether it takes on everyday situations made harrowing by extenuating circumstances like Teaching Ms. Riggs or more erotic themes like Poppy’s Passions, romance and love wiggle their way into most of what Stephanie writes.
It’s hard to say what most women really think and feel, because every woman is and should be different, but Steph tries to find a balance of what an ‘ordinary’ woman can relate to and what they really want.
With multiple worlds full of naughty-good fun running amuck in her brain, much more is to come from Stephanie Beck.
Stephanie’s Website:
www.stephaniebeck.net
Reader eMail:
stephaniebeckauthor@gmail.com
Also by Stephanie Beck
Unraveling Midnight
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2011 Stephanie Beck
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: September 2011
ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-315-4