Jefferson

I swallow and dry my sweating palms on the thighs of my work jeans, watching Bay’s car pull up and stop in front of Luanne and Jimbo’s trailer, my heart beating a mile a minute when she steps out of her car and looks me up and down without expression.

I’d be less hopeful, but I think I saw some scorn in that look and trust me, anything is better than Bay looking at you as if you’re nothing. I wait until she’s almost reached me before falling to my knees and holding out the little box I take out of my pocket, my chest tightening when she goes still and glares at me.

“Jones, get the hell up off the ground and stop messing around. Where’s Luanne?”

I ignore the command and stay right where I am, silently thanking Declan Brady for arranging this because without his help I’d still be outside Bay’s house sniffling in my car because she had her house repainted just to show me what she feels for me.

Goddamn all these feelings.

“She’s not here. She went to lunch with Jimbo, my treat,” I confess, wanting to be upfront and honest about the levels I sunk to, to get her out here and alone where I can at least talk to her.

Bay snorts and looks around, shuddering when she eyes the trailer before looking down at me and snatching the box out of my hand. Her snort when she opens it makes my chest ease some, and I feel my own lips twitch when she giggles and removes the little sterling silver keychain I had made for her.

It’s a baseball bat and a heart with my name engraved on it, the heart, the bat has Bay’s name on it and the date I first met her years ago. I know it’s sappy and stupid, and trust me, I’d be embarrassed for being this much of a sap if not for the way she keeps giggling and looks up at me with eyes filled with mirth.

“You really are the weirdest idiot ever, you know that Jones?” she asks, clutching the little chain as I rise to tower over her.

Bay, and all the women in her family, are nothing more than five-three if they’re lucky, but I don’t feel all that much bigger than her because she packs one hell of a punch in the personality department.

“I know. And you’re the weirdest bombshell I ever met,” I say softly, stepping closer slowly just in case she’s still pissed.

When she doesn’t retreat I feel another piece of me relax, and I groan when I hesitantly wrap my arms around her and pull her close, shuddering when she shoves her face into my chest and hugs me back.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole, baby, I promise I’ll think before I push at you again,” I say into her hair, wanting to kiss her so much I feel my lips tingle.

Bay grunts and rolls her eyes, pushing back to look up at me.

“I won’t hold you to that since you have a dick and balls, but I will say that you hurt my stupid feelings and I came this close to killing you because you made me cry. Don’t do it again, Jones,” she barks in a voice that conveys more pleading than anger.

I sigh and stroke her cheek, wanting to do so much more but willing to wait until she gives me the signal.

“I won’t. Can I kiss you now?”

“Hell yeah. Wait! No, not here. I’d only get horny and I’d want to do you right here and just…” she shudders, looking that the trailer again. “I’ll tell you about what lives in there later, after you take me home and make me scream.”

I peck her lips, pulling back fast before we get into it and walk her to her car with instructions that she drive the speed limit and goes straight to my place.

I run two red lights trying to keep up with her and curse when I get home to see her car in the driveway and my door standing ajar. I’ma have to talk to her about the silent alarm.

I take care of the cops who arrive to check on the house after I deactivate the alarm, and then lock the door before stalking into my bedroom. My knees almost buckle when I see her and come to a dead halt, my breath escaping in a hard expulsion of air. She’s completely naked in the center of the bed wearing a naughty smile, and a come and get me look that makes my cock go granite hard.

I can see every part of her from her raspberry tipped nipples to the smooth peach skin of her mound. When she spreads her legs I catch a glimpse of her inner folds, the pink flesh glossy with arousal and calling to me to taste.

I don’t hesitate, and I love the way she laughs when I almost fall over trying to get my pants and shoes off at the same time. I am ravenous for her after over a week without her body.

“Spread those thighs wide, Brady, I am starving,” I purr, licking my lips salaciously when she gasps and opens wider.

I don’t build up to anything because well, I can’t, I just fall face first into her sex and groan when her taste hits my tongue, the slight musk and sweetness that is Bay bursting forth when she grabs my head and presses me closer.

I love her until she comes all over my face, and give her a little more just so that she’s soft and slick and desperate when I push up and into her. Looking at where we’re connected is not a good idea right now, not with the ache in my balls, so I kiss her instead and almost come when she bites my tongue.

“You’re feisty today,” I groan, slamming into her harder when she scratches her nails down my back, and howl when she clamps down on me, her hips slamming up with my every downward thrust.

She’s wet, so wet I feel her juices slide down my balls and I love it. I love the way she gets hot inside and can’t seem to fight her body. It’s here, in bed where I have all the control, that I truly have Bay Brady.

I keep thrusting even though my balls are so tight and heavy it pains me, just wanting this to never end because I don’t want to separate from her for the next sixty years.

“Oh, Jones. Baby, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” she screams, kissing me so wet and dirty I growl and go harder.

I don’t stop, I can’t, and before I’m ready I feel her tense and lock down around me, her tight sex milking the come from my shuddering balls. It’s hard, almost painful as I release and breathe into a kiss that never really ended.

Bay groans when we go still and unhooks her legs from my hips, her whole body becoming one languorous pile of sated goo beneath me. I pull out with a grimace and come down beside her only because I know I will pass out on her and squash my poor baby.

She doesn’t disappoint though when she wraps herself around me and snuggles, the woman I know–and I only–taking the cuddles and love that I now know she needs.

“I had a shit load of, well shit, delivered to your parents,” she says, yawning and grousing when her phone rings.

I roll over and reach into her bag, making a note to ask about the twenty-two she has stashed in there and hand her the phone before lying back and pulling her close.

“What? No, I don’t care. So? It’s flowers, Jack, just take what they deliver and tell the bride that’s what she ordered. Like that even matters, her mother is a half-blind rodeo star, Jacobie, the woman doesn’t know a petunia from her asshole. Uh huh. Yeah. Of course not. Okay. Yeah, I get it. No, you know I can’t be sorry because we weren’t raised with guilt to burden us. Love you too, Jack.”

I snort when she ends the call and tosses the phone on the nightstand, her chuckle making my heartbeat settle.

“She pissed that I didn’t take you back to work?”

“Nah, she says she’s all for afternoon nookie now that she knows what good sex is. It’s just a problem with an order is all,” she says, sighing and chewing on her lips.

“What’s up, babe?” I ask, knowing that look and not liking it.

Bay hardly ever shows anyone else anything so I would guess they don’t know when something is bothering her. I do though. She gets this little frown line between her brows, and she chews on her bottom lip as if she’s going to take the thing off. It’s both adorable and unsettling because Bay doesn’t really let anything bug her.

“I got mad last week and what with you and me being out of it and my sisters on my back…I lost it and sort of vandalized the car of the florist we’ve been using since we started Rainbows. It’s no big deal really, just that I screwed up, and now we have to use a new florist and they fuck the orders up and cost more and…Jack isn’t happy with me even though she tries not to say anything,” she sighs, scrubbing her face until I gently take her hands and hold them down.

“It’s no big deal. Come on, if it’s bugging you we should go find something that will work.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah, now,” I chuckle, rolling to my feet to grab my pants.

Bay grumbles and gets up too, giving me a strange look.

“You know for a guy who could be in bed for the next few hours with unlimited sex credit, you’re very upbeat about getting dressed and leaving the bedroom.”

“Babe, I just had the best sex ever, you love me, and I get to help you fix a problem that is bugging you. I don’t see how my behavior is strange,” I laugh, shrugging when she mutters and pulls on her dress and heels.

Her panties are a wasted effort, and I grin because this pair she can’t blame on me. It’s nice to see she wanted me so bad she ripped her own panties off this time.

“Oh, shut up. I tripped while I was getting them off,” she scoffs, smirking when I don’t stop smiling and waggling my eyebrows.

“Whatever you say, Brady. Now, I know this old lady who lives out on Oakridge and has a few greenhouses there. She only really supplies big commercial places, but I bet if she likes you she’ll agree to contract to Rainbow. Wanna go give her a try?”

Bay grins, kisses me, and hops into her shoes before grabbing a pair of my tight boxers and shimmying into them.

“You can play with my junk through the slit if you wanna,” she purrs, giggling and running down the stairs when I growl and lunge for her.

We spend the rest of the day convincing Brenda, an old friend of grandma’s, to help Bay out, and by the time I take her home and throw some steaks on the grill I would most definitely call it a day. A good day.

I hope to hell it lasts.

 

*****

 

Bay

I lean over and puke with a groan as Jones holds my hair and strokes my back, his calm and caring touch at this moment not helping any since I feel like shit and just wanna curl into a ball and die.

“Go ‘way!”

“Aw, baby, don’t get mad at me,” he whines, making me snarl right before I hurl so hard I sound like I’m screaming with every expulsion of fluid.

“You did this to me you freak,” I scream, chugging again when my stomach gives another heave and tosses all my cookies.

I’m dying. I really am. If I am not, then I want to because this does not feel good and it really, really is not natural.

I’ve been dating Jones for the last three months, seriously. No, I mean we are super serious about what we have going even though sometimes I call him a bag of estrogen and want to punch him.

The man is super romantic and sappy, and he almost, not entirely thank God or I’d be grossed out, reminds me of daddy. The guy is super masculine and so confident within his own skin that he does shit like come to the office and sing to me on my birthday, a love song that made Jack blubber and wail so loud Cord ran in thinking she went into early labor.

Me. I almost cried. It was that sweet. Then I had to deal with puke because Kim was mocking me behind Jones’s back and she wasn’t looking where she was going.

She stubbed her toe, puked and then passed out when we ascertained that she broke it. I left Sully and Ky to clean that up while Jones helped me get Kim to the hospital.

They didn’t say much about it, just that they had to wrap it up and she has to stay off it, but Kim went so wild they gave her a boot just to get her off their backs.

She now walks around with that boot strapped on, sporting a heel she had Sully nail to the bottom so she could wear the other on her uninjured foot.

How that even makes sense is beyond me, but I get to have Sully in the office all day because he’s afraid she’ll fall and hurt herself and the baby. I am so not complaining, the man cooks three meals a day to try and make sure Kim eats properly and feeds his demon spawn.

“Oh my God! Jesus, please take me.”

“Baby–”

“You shut up! You did this. You,” I repeat in a deadly voice as the last wave of sickness hits me before dissipating so I can collapse on the tile.

I smell bad, like sweat, puke, and anger, and I just lay there while Jones cleans me up, makes me gargle mouthwash and carries me to the bed.

“Brady, it was your idea to go to that taco stand and eat four of the things. I told you that meat tasted funny when I tried it,” he says, pulling a face when I pout and sniffle.

“But it was so good, and you told me about that taco stand,” I remind him, trying to pin this all on him because I know the shits will start soon and I do not want to be to blamed for that mess.

I heard Luanne while she was in the hospital and it sounded like she was calling wildlife the way she assaulted that toilet bowl.

“I told you I had a taco there one time and it was good. You made me take you there, and you kept eating them even after I told you not to.”

“The other two were free!”

“Babe, it was buy one get one free and no wonder.”

“Shut up,” I moan, rolling into a ball and whining when my stomach turns hard and gives a boiling warning of doom. “I wanna go home. I can’t crap liquid with you right outside the door.”

“Well too damn bad! You’re staying. I’ll put the radio on in here if it makes you feel better.”

Feel better? I haven’t gone to the toilet for anything but number one since we started dating. I refuse, refuse to spoil the mystique that is my toilet schedule, and I will die before I have him know that I actually do such unclean things.

God, I am a Brady, I think, holding in a bubble of gas with sheer will and a lot of sphincter clenching when my stomach blows up like a balloon.

Jones just keeps sitting there, looking concerned while stroking my back and reading the directions on the medicine the doctor had the pharmacy deliver.

“It says here you need to take two of these now and keep drinking liquids.”

I grunt, sweating and praying this won’t happen while he rises to get me a glass of water to drink the pills down.

“Here baby. Come on. This will help the cramps.”

I swallow the pills and snuggle down into the mattress when he leaves me to go answer the phone, and I fall asleep before he comes back, praying to God I do not pull a Luanne and shit the bed.

I’m jostled to wakefulness when he slides into bed later, and I cuddle up with him, snuggling into his warmth.

“Love you, baby.”

“Hhhm, love you too.”