Colorado 03 Lady Luck (32 page)

Her fingers convulsed on his wrist but she
didn’t move her eyes from him.

Then she dipped her head and he watched as
she watched her fingertips trailing back up the marks. Then she
bent slightly forward, lifted his arm and pressed his hand flat to
her chest. Then her eyes moved back to his as she slowly slid his
hand down, between her breasts, down her midriff, down over her
stomach and
down
.

All the while he felt her skin under the
path of his hand; he watched her face change, get hungry. She did
shit like that all the time. Hot. Fuck, he’d never had so hot.
They’d just finished fifteen minutes ago and she wanted it again.
She got hungry a lot and, to get what she wanted, she was a
wildcat.

He fucking loved that about her too.

When she used her hand to curve his between
her legs, he curled his torso up, his left arm sliced tight around
her waist and her mouth instantly moved so her lips were on his.
Her breathing was already labored.

He took over and slid a finger inside and
watched her eyes drift half-closed.

He felt his cock start to get hard.

“What you want, baby?” he murmured against
her mouth.

“Can I suck you?” she asked, hot, hungry,
wanting it but still hesitant.

Like he’d fucking say no.

He answered by sliding his arm up her back
and his finger out, pressing in as it glided over her clit, going
for and getting that sexy-as-fuck noise she made at the back of her
throat, doing all of this while he laid back down, taking her with
him.

Once he was settled, he whispered, “Yeah,
mama, you can suck me.”

She smiled then she moved, taking her time,
drifting down, using her mouth, her tongue, her teeth, her hands,
her hair sliding all over him as she did and by the time she
reached his cock it was hard and pulsing.

She licked and played and stroked awhile
before she got serious. He let her, her hair all around, he liked
it and so did she. Then she took him inside and fuck, he liked that
better because she was always eager, hungry, she could take him
deep and she could suck hard and she did both really fucking
well.

When he was close, he pulled her up, rolled
her to her back and gave back as good as he got, taking his time
moving down, working her tits until she was squirming and making
low noises, tasting her, touching her then he got between her legs
and he ate her, hard and hungrier than she did him.

He loved the taste of her pussy, so much,
sometimes he could be working or working out and he’d sense her on
his tongue.

He loved that too.

He made her come and moved over her, driving
deep inside before she was finished, thrusting fast and hard,
watching her face settle then he moved a hand in between them and
built it again. She lifted her knees high, pressed them tight to
his sides, locking his arm between them, her hands moving on him
fevered, he took her there again then he let himself go.

He buried himself inside her, gave her
enough weight to keep her warm and worked the skin of her neck with
his mouth while her hands drifted light on him.

He didn’t talk during sex and didn’t like
his pussy to do it either. Lexie talked but infrequently and when
she did it meant something. She loved his cock in her mouth and in
her cunt and she let him know it. She loved his body. She loved his
mouth. She loved his hands. She let him know this too. She liked
him giving it to her however he wanted. He’d been creative; she
never made a noise of protest, just offered her pussy however he
wanted to take it, as often as he wanted it and she got off, did it
hard and didn’t mind him knowing she did that either.

He loved that about her too.

He pulled out and moved down, brushing his
mouth across her chest, he rolled off.

She rolled the other way and moved to the
bathroom to clean up. He lay on his back staring at the ceiling
when she did but turned his head to the side to watch her walk back
in the room. She tagged her panties from the floor, tugged them on,
turned out the light on her side then put a knee to the bed and
moved into him. She settled, pressed to his side, cheek to his pec,
leg tangling with his. He reached out, turned out his light then
down, pulled the covers over them then curled his arm around her
and tucked her closer.

“Thanks for dinner,” she murmured against
his chest, her arm draped around his gut giving him a light
squeeze.

He didn’t answer. He’d buy her an expensive
dinner to celebrate her getting a job and he’d buy her an expensive
dinner to celebrate the fact that he woke up next to her. In time,
she’d come to know that without him saying it and she’d come to
know that because that was what he intended to give her.

Instead of speaking, he stared at the
ceiling he could see in the moonlight. Wood planks and beams. And
he felt the soft bed underneath him, Lexie’s softness at his side.
Not cement and industrial paint overhead. Hard, thin mattress under
him. Narrow bed that didn’t fit his frame and allowed no room to
move. And no chance in hell of pussy tucked to his side, definitely
not sweet, classy pussy who dressed nice, laughed often and didn’t
give a fuck who saw her run across the forecourt of a garage on
high heels and launch herself into his grease-stained arms just
because she found herself a part-time job as a receptionist in a
fucking salon.

He stared at the ceiling and waited for
it.

Then it happened, her weight settled. She’d
found sleep.

Then he waited again.

She detached in her sleep and rolled
away.

When she did Walker did what he always did.
He moved out of bed and across the room to one of three thermostats
in the house. He jacked the AC up then turned to move back to the
bed but stopped when he saw her purse on the dresser, it was open,
the stuff inside spilling out.

Instead of going back to bed, he moved there
and tagged the digital camera. He turned it on and moved his thumb
over the buttons on the side, the screen displaying the pictures.
Three she made their waitress at The Rooster take of them cuddled
in one side of a booth. But he stopped on one.

Lexie’s head turned and tipped back, facing
him but even in profile you could see her smiling big, her nose
pressed to the underside of his jaw, filled champagne glasses on
the table in front of them. Her arm was wrapped around his middle,
his arm around her shoulders, his head was partially turned to her,
dipped down, his eyes were closed and he remembered what he was
thinking with his eyes closed. Lexie pressed into his side, feeling
her tits, smelling her hair and perfume, knowing she was smiling
because she’d just been laughing. He was thinking something
whacked, so whacked it was fucking insane.

He was thinking he didn’t mind doing that
time because he walked out and found all that.

Standing there, staring at the display,
Walker remembered her sitting in the booth after the waitress gave
back the camera, head bent, looking at the photos on the display
and muttering, “Need another frame. The mantel is looking
naked.”

Her muttering had proved him right. She
was making him a home,
them
a
home because she’d never had one either, and she intended to keep
doing it.

He turned off the camera and set it on the
dresser. Then he joined her in bed, curling into her back, his arm
going around her pulling her close. He did this every night since
he took a shot at trusting her and made them a
them
. And like every night, in her sleep, she snuggled
closer before settling and he knew she wouldn’t detach because
every morning since they became them he woke up with his wife
tucked right there.

And like every night since they became them,
he fell asleep smelling her hair, not a correctional institute
filled with men, feeling her body tight against his, not rough
covers, the air cool, not hot as fuck and moonlight shining through
huge-ass windows not small ones covered by bars.

But that night, he fell asleep thinking it
was whacked, fucking insane but it was true.

He didn’t mind doing that time when doing it
meant he would walk out to Lexie.

Filled with Brightness

“Babe.”

I looked up at Ty’s call to see he was
standing in the opened, wood framed glass door to the front deck,
hand still on the handle, a funny look on his face

It was Sunday, a week and a half after I got
my job and we’d celebrated and it had been a week and a half where
I’d spent a good amount of effort at keeping him distracted from
his grand plan o’ vengeance.

And, as far as I knew, I’d been
successful.

Mostly, I did this with sex.

But we couldn’t have sex every minute we
weren’t working or eating (alas) so I’d had to get creative.

And that creativity was helped by Laurie,
who came into the salon to have her hair cut and highlighted. While
she was waiting for Dominic to finish with a client, I’d shared
with her my deck plant vision but lack of experience seeing as I’d
lived in an apartment the entirety of my adult life but had managed
to keep a houseplant alive for a few years so I had hope if not
knowledge. In return, she’d shared that Betty of Ned and Betty
owned the Carnal Hotel and the healthy, abundant flowers outside
were her doing. Then she’d phoned Betty while sitting in Dominic’s
chair and about seven seconds later Betty had walked through the
doors of Carnal Spa to give me a very long but friendly lecture
about keeping outdoor plants alive in the Colorado Mountains.

I took notes.

Three pages of them.

Dominic’s “spa”, by the way, was really just
a hair stylist that did manis and pedis. But Dominic’s gay partner
Daniel was building a couple of rooms at the back where he was
hoping to expand into facials and massages.

“
If
the biker babes in this freaking town do facials
and massages,” he’d said. “Color me
stunned
when I found out the bitches got manis and pedis.
Been living amongst them for
years
,
still do not understand them. I get you wanna dip your toe into
rough and tumble but attach your ball and chain to it? Uh…
no.
When your man doesn’t bother to
shave or get a haircut, my guess would be you wouldn’t want a
French pedicure. But I started that trade and those biker bitches
were
all
over it.
There you go. I
may be fucked with facials, that might be taking it a shade too
far, but you can’t know unless you try.”

By the way, my pay stunk but Dominic was
hysterical, the work was entirely stress free, I got paid enough to
cover the gas to drive down and then some, it was something to do
with my days, it was doing something where I met half the town (the
female half) and it came with free manis and pedis and half off
Dominic doing your hair. And since he was a master and I liked my
manis and pedis, I thought it was awesome.

So, since I had Betty’s tutelage, the minute
Ty got home on Saturday afternoon, I pounced.

And I did this by announcing, “Garden center
is open on Saturday until eight.”

To this he’d replied distractedly, head bent
to his phone, thumb moving over the keypad, texting someone, “Go
on, mama, I got somethin’ I need to do.”

Alarm bells sounded since he didn’t share
that something he needed to do. It wasn’t like we were attached at
the hip but unless he was working out, there weren’t many
somethings he had to do that took him away from me and I suspected
the something he had to do was vengeance related.

I thought fast then called his name
softly.

His head came up and turned to me.

“I’ve been, um… thinking about the, uh…
money you owe me,” I started.

That was when I watched his body get
tight.

So I quickly went on, “I’ve decided to, uh…
donate it to the cause.”

This was a lie, of course, since I was fired
up to derail the cause but I thought it was a worthy lie to
tell.

I felt guilt when he blinked then his eyes
flared then his body turned to me and it started coming to me with
intent, the look on his face sweet
and
hot so I lifted a hand and he stopped.

“Minus deck plants and furniture,” I added.
“I like to have coffee in the morning with the view and I’d prefer
not to stand at the railing while doing it.”

His reply was all Ty. Instantaneous and
generous.

“Get what you want, Lex, before you go I’ll
give you the money.”

This was
not
falling into my plan.

So I scrambled.

“I want you to help me pick the furniture.
It’s going to be yours too and you also should have what you want.
I donate the leftover if you come with me. Do we have a deal?”

He held my eyes for a long moment while I
endeavored to look innocent.

Then he said, “Deal.”

I smiled big at him. He grinned at me. Then
his head dropped to his phone and his thumb moved over the keypad.
Then he went with me and he didn’t touch his phone, not the rest of
that day or the next.

This was because I went nuts at the garden
center which also had kickass patio furniture. Kickass enough that
even Ty got into the selection process and it was him who went
overboard.

So in the Cruiser on our way home, we had
trays and trays of plants, bags of soil, coils of hoses and ten
enormous pots, four terracotta (front deck), four turquoise (deck
off kitchen as well as top and bottom of the outside steps) and two
purplish-gray (our deck off the bedroom) as well as a window box
for outside the kitchen window.