Cover to Covers (25 page)

“Shh
, baby.” She kissed his neck. “All good things come to those who wait.”

He groaned, knowing what she had in mind.

When her lips once again moved down his stomach to his rigid member, he closed his eyes and prepared for what was to come. She stimulated him with her mouth, bringing him almost to climax, and just before he could hurtle over the edge, she stopped.

“God, no,” he
howled. “Moe, you can’t do this.”

She giggled against this chest. “Yes, I can. You’re my prisoner.”

Monique would bring him close to orgasm, and then stop. With every touch of her lips, stroke of her fingers, and nip of her teeth, he was becoming more and more sensitive. Soon, Tyler found his strict self-control giving in to her. When she finally straddled his hips, he almost cried out loud with relief. He was so swollen, so in need of release that he could think of nothing else.

Very gently, she lowered her hips over him, taking him all the way
into her. Closing his eyes as she slowly rode him, he pushed his hips higher, desperate to go deeper. Tyler was grunting wildly and pulling against the handcuffs above him. His arms were burning and his wrists throbbing, but he did not care. Monique’s ragged breaths filled his ears. She was clasping at his neck and grimacing as her body grew taught with anticipation. 

Tyler cried out
her name, arching his back as the powerful orgasm roared through him. Seconds later, he heard Monique moan above him and then go limp. She was slumped over him, breathing hard into his cheek when he opened his eyes. He ached to put his arms about her, but then again he wanted to put her over his lap and spank her for what she had done to him.

“Did you enjoy that
, Ty?”

“I can’t feel my hands, Moe.”

She hastily undid the handcuffs. Letting out a relieved, long breath, Tyler shook out his hands as Monique lay on top of him. Once the tingling had abated in his fingers, he clasped his arms about her and flipped her body beneath him.

“That was dirty,” he grumbled. He bit her neck and suck
ed on her skin.

“Oow!” She squirmed beneath him. Lifting her arms over her head she whispered, “Do you want to get even with me?”

But he did not want to get even. If anything he felt closer to her than ever. No woman had ever flipped the tables on him, and for some reason he was relieved.

“No, not this time.” He passionately kissed her lips.

Incredibly, he could feel himself growing hard again as he kissed her. Parting her lips with his tongue, he deepened his kiss, and as Monique slipped her arms about his shoulders, he felt something change in him. His hands caressed her breasts, hips, thighs, and when he settled his fingers between her legs, she sighed into his hair.

“Do
n’t you want to tie me up?”

He kissed her lips again. “No.”

Kneeling between her legs, he slowly slid into her. Hugging her petite body, Tyler indulged in the sensation of her warm, soft skin. He kissed her neck, pulled out, and then gently entered her once more.

“I like this even better,” she
whispered.

Tyler did not understand why it was better this time, but it was. He wanted her so much, and
his yearning made him want to please her in every way. Fighting to control his need to dive deep into her flesh, he opted for short, steady thrusts, heightening her pleasure. When Monique moaned into his chest, Tyler held back, wanting to bring her to climax again. As the second orgasm hit her, Monique quivered and her scream filled the bedroom. Unable to stand it any longer, Tyler pushed all the way into her until that intense wave of satisfaction overtook him.

A
fter, they lay holding each other in the darkness of her room. Tyler kissed her shoulder and was brushing the hair from her face when she opened her eyes. 

“You were different that time. You felt…almost tender
.”

He rolled off her and placed his hand behind his head. “It wasn’t different, Moe,” he asserted, feeling a bit alarmed that she had felt it, too.

She cuddled into his side. “It was different, Ty. It was the real you.”

He listened as her breathing slowed
and her body relaxed beside him. In a short time, she had drifted off to sleep, but Tyler was still wide-awake, weighing her words.

Was that the real Tyler Moore? Sex had always been for release, and not so much about emotion with him, but this time he had felt the emotion.
Most of his life, emotions had been something Tyler had kept buried beneath the surface. Even when he was married, he had never shared such intense feelings with his wives.

He wiggled out from under
Monique, trying not to wake her. As she curled up in the bed, he tenderly covered her naked body with a corner of the blue and yellow bedspread.

What was happening to him? Tyler stood from the bed and
rubbed his hands over his face. His body craved something to take the edge off. He needed to suppress the rising dread in his stomach. She was getting too close, and he needed something to give him the strength to block her out.

The patter of tiny feet on the hardwood floor by the door made him turn from the bed. Bart was standing in the doorway, staring up at Tyler as if to say, “What’s your problem?” 

Tyler looked past the dog to the hallway outside, and then he remembered the bottle of bourbon in the bottom of the kitchen pantry.

He was halfway down the st
airs when he realized what he was doing. “Over twenty years of sobriety and I’m going to blow it now?”

But all the self-recriminations did not seem to stop his feet as they purposefully
moved closer to the kitchen. Once inside the white double doors, he flipped on the lights and pondered the pantry door, fighting for any excuse to head back up the stairs to her bed. But the churning in his gut became even more insistent. He needed that fix of alcohol on his lips like nothing he had experienced in years.

Staggering across the kitchen, he flung the pantry door open and
yanked the Jack Daniel’s from the floor. The bottle glistened in the pale light from the streetlights outside the kitchen window. When he turned the cap, the crack of the seal echoed about the kitchen. He put the tip of the bottle to his lips, hoping the smell would satiate his need, but no such luck. The aroma of the alcohol only seemed to infuriate his thirst even more.

While
a swirl of conflict squeezed his gut, Tyler touched the bottle to his lips. At first, the taste of alcohol was unpleasant in his mouth, almost nauseating. But soon the warmth of the liquid began to soothe his torment, prompting Tyler to take in a little more. As the bourbon burned its way to his stomach, he tossed his head back and he let out a long, defeated breath. In that instant, he had never felt so low. He had given in to the temptation he had fought so long to suppress.

Sitting
down with a thud on a chair next to the kitchen table, he murmured, “What in the hell is wrong with me?”

After downing another long sip, his body trembled.
Resting the bottle on the table, he sat back in his chair and struggled for control. It seemed that Monique had gotten to him, again. Tyler had stopped drinking when she had walked out of his life, and it took her return to make him reach for alcohol once more.

Standing
from the table, he placed the cap back on the bottle. “I can’t do this,” he mouthed. Tyler then set the bottle back on the pantry floor.

As he bounded up the
walnut staircase, he thought of what to do. When he came to her bedroom door, Tyler rested his shoulder against the doorframe, debating a course of action.

A
light wheezing sound came from around his feet, and Tyler looked down to find Bart watching his every move. The accusatory glint Tyler swore he detected in the animal’s round, black eyes only seemed to compound his guilt. 

Unable to stand the
din of questions circling his mind, Tyler returned to the bed. He wanted to have a little more time with Monique before he had to make any decisions about what to do. Lifting the bedspread, he slipped into the bed and wrapped their bodies beneath the covers. She woke briefly as he settled in next to her, nestled against his chest, and fell back asleep. He encircled her in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. Holding Monique was as close as Tyler figured he would ever get to heaven on earth. He had once heard it said that a lifetime could be summed up in a single moment. For Tyler Moore, that moment was now.

Chapter 1
9

Opening his eyes to strange pastel floral wallpaper made Tyler sit up, confused by his surroundings. The yellow and blue bedspread was twisted about his naked body and tufts of dirty-blonde hair were protruding from beneath the covers next to him. When he spied the pink, fur-lined handcuffs still hanging from a post on the pine bed, a montage of images from the night before came back to him. Gargled snoring from the floor next to the bed disrupted his reflection. Leaning over, Tyler saw Bart sleeping on his back on a pillow that had fallen from the bed. His pink tongue was flapping up and down outside of his mouth as he slept.

“God, that’s hideous.”

Monique stirred beside him, and then a single gray eye peeked out from under the bedspread. “Is it morning already?”

He kissed her forehead. “
‘Fraid so.” He unraveled the bedspread from about his legs.

Monique stretched beside him, yawning. “I haven’t slept that well in years.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Must have been all of your…exertions last night.”

“Oh, God. Did I do that?”
She sat up and traced her fingers over his back.

Tyler
flinched. “What is it?”

“You have red scratches
all down your back.”

Tyler lightly chuckled.
“Unless Bart climbed in bed with us last night, I’m pretty sure that was you.”

She
scooted next to him and gently raised his wrist. “Does that hurt?”

He
examined the black and blue line about his right wrist. “No, looks worse than it feels. Handcuffs always bruise. That’s why I never use them. I only use soft ties.” He kissed the side of her cheek.

“Why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“Would you have listened to me when you had me handcuffed to the bed?”

With a straight face, she thought about it for a second or two.
“Probably not,” she concluded.

He patted her thigh.
“I rest my case.”

“I guess I got a little carried away with your back and all.” She kissed his shoulder. “But the second time without the handcuffs was even better.” Monique slid her arms about his waist.

A hint of uneasiness cut through him. “Yeah, it was great.” He stood from the bed, massaging his right wrist. “I need a shower.” He retrieved his gold watch from the table and slipped it on.

“Hey.” Monique stood
up next to him. “Is something wrong?’

Tyler
silently chastised himself for being so abrupt. “No, nothing is wrong.” He embraced her and smelled the remnants of her lilac perfume. Why did he feel like such an ass? “You just wore me out, my Moe,” he added, hoping to reassure her.

She
tilted back from his embrace. “I’ll make it up to you with a nice breakfast. How does that sound?”

He gave her a genuine
, warm smile. “Wonderful.”

She stepped out of his arms and went to her bathroom door. Grabbing a fluffy blue robe from behind the door, she shrugged it over her shoulders and tied it at the waist.

“You take your shower while I’ll make breakfast. Then you can think of something you want to do today. We could see plantation homes outside of the city, or take a trolley ride, whatever you’re in the mood for.” She paused and grinned at him. “I promise, no more stores like Mr. Binky’s.”

He ran his hand over his face as she walked to the bedroom door. “I need to make a few calls this morning. I have to check on that business in Oklahoma.”

“All right, I can do some work on the computer while you are making calls.”

Monique was about to
leave when he stopped her. “Last night really was wonderful, Moe.”

Her eyes met his
. “Yes, it was.” She clapped her hands at Bart. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

After she
was gone, the guilt rose in Tyler like flood water behind a dam. Refusing to listen to the constant chatter in his head, he gathered his clothes from the floor and quickly escaped to his bedroom.

After tossing his clothes to his bed, he
stepped beneath his shower and turned the tap all the way to cold. The icy water felt like pins shooting into his skin. Tyler closed his eyes and forced himself to stand there and take his punishment. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to truly comprehend the stinging pain of regret.

***

After breakfast with Monique and Bart, Tyler returned to his room and checked his cell phone. Seeing the thirty-four unanswered e-mails and twenty-six voice mails made him flop down on his bed with disgust.