Dirty Scoundrel

I don’t bring Clay up, and Clay has no interest in seeing Dad. Works for me.

Since I married Clay and we now live closer to San Antonio, the Chap Weston Museum is now run by a few employees, and Clay and I head out there every now and then to check on things. It doesn’t make a ton of money, but it’s important to my dad—and to me, oddly enough—that it not fail, so on it goes. As long as it’s in the black, I don’t feel guilty about it. Clay wouldn’t care if it was a money pit; he just wants me to be happy.

I get to the door of Lexi’s little cottage and I can hear her weird yoga music playing in one of the back rooms. I knock, but there’s no answer, so I try peeking into one of the windows. They’re all closed, though. Hmm. I debate texting her again, when my gut decides to revolt and another wave of nausea hits. Uh-oh. I glance back up at the main house, but it’s a good walk back up the steps, and I suspect I won’t make it in time.

So I try Lexi’s doorknob. It’s unlocked, thank goodness, so I let myself in, racing toward the bathroom down the hall. I make it to the toilet just in time to puke my guts out. There’s not much left in my stomach, so I end up just dry heaving against the porcelain bowl for a while, and then grab the nearest towel to wipe my face, whimpering.

“Uh, dude? You okay?”

I turn around to see Lexi in a towel—and nothing else—standing in the doorway behind me. Her dark hair is disheveled and she looks sweaty.

“Sorry,” I say weakly. “I wasn’t trying to let myself in but my stomach kinda had ideas of its own.”

“Should I call 9-1-1?” Her voice is deadpan, but she moves to the edge of the tub and offers me a fresh towel.

“Very funny,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ll be okay. I just need a moment. Did I catch you before you were about to get in the shower?”

“That would be kind of difficult, seeing as I’m sitting on the edge of the shower,” Lexi says, amused. “You did catch me at a bad time, though.”

“You have a package—” I begin, and then stop, because when I lift my head, I can see right into Lexi’s bedroom. There’s a naked ass in her bed. A very white, naked ass, and the owner of it is facedown in the covers. For a moment, my heart stops. But then the man sits up, and I see that it’s Knox.

Ew. I just saw my brother-in-law’s naked ass.

In my best friend’s bed.

I shoot Lexi a look of horror. “What—”

“It’s not what it looks like,” she begins, and then tilts her head. “Actually, no, it’s exactly what it looks like.”

* * *

I’m back home a very short time later, still a little unnerved at finding out that Lexi and Knox are sleeping together. I collapse on the sofa in the living room—or what will eventually be the living room—and close my eyes, trying not to get another visual of my weird friend and my weird brother-in-law having sex.

No sooner do I lie down than the front door opens. “Babe?” Clay bellows.

“In the living room,” I call out, struggling to sit up.

He appears a moment later, a gorgeous view for any woman. I drink up the sight of him—his now-thick beard, his slightly too-long dark hair, his laughing green eyes, his broad shoulders and amazing, taut body. I sigh. In addition to a raging case of sour stomach, I also have an incredible libido, which is a terrible pairing. I get turned on at the drop of a hat, and then my gut shuts that idea down promptly. It’s kinda hellish.

“Don’t get up, baby,” Clay says, coming to kneel by the couch. He brushes a lock of hair off my forehead tenderly. “You okay?”

“Same as usual,” I tell him. “Thrown up twice so far today, but the good news is that there isn’t much left in my stomach.” I grimace. “And you’ll never guess what I saw today.”

“Save it,” he says, and rubs his knuckles lightly over my cheek. “You lie down and I’m gonna make you some tea.”

“Why are you home so early?” I ask.

He shrugs those big, delicious shoulders and just that simple movement gets me hot and bothered. “My baby needed ginger tea. So I came.”

“Yes, but I could have waited—”

He shakes his head at me. “My baby needed ginger tea,” he states firmly. “Now close your eyes.”

“You big overbearing dweeb,” I tell him affectionately, but I do as he says. I always do as Clay says. It’s impossible to argue with him, because he never believes he’s wrong. It’s cute.

I wake up a short time later to find Clay sitting on the far end of the couch, and he’s got my feet in his lap. He’s texting someone quietly on his phone with one hand and rubbing my ankles with the other. I yawn. “Did I sleep long?”

“‘Bout an hour,” he tells me, and his thumb strokes my foot. “How you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

“I’m gonna get you that tea now. You stay put.”

I sit up as Clay leaves the room, watching his tight butt flex in his even tighter jeans. Lord have mercy, but I hope my stomach holds up for a few hours, because I’m feeling really turned on at the moment. My husband returns a moment later, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He gives it to me and watches me closely as I sip it. He’s attentive and possessive normally, but now that I’m pregnant? That’s ratcheted up to eleven and Clay’s worse than a mama bear . . . and I have to admit, I eat it up. Every single moment of it.

“Better?” Clay asks.

The tea tastes terrible, but I don’t want him to worry. He already worries about me too much, and we’re only in month two. I smile and tell a tiny fib. “Much.”

He sits back down at the far end of the couch and puts my feet back in his lap. I resist the urge to rub his cock with my feet. My goodness, I’m feeling frisky. It’s got to be my big, delicious husband doting on me that’s got me so revved up. “I can’t believe you’re home so early.”

He shrugs, a smile on his lips. “Missed you and my baby.”

And that does it. This man is going to get laid. Right here, right now. I carefully set my mug of tea down on the table next to the couch, and then fling myself into Clay’s embrace.

His eyes widen when my arms go around his neck. “Babe?”

“I’m feeling a little . . .” I trail a finger down the front of his shirt. “Amorous.”

His eyes go smoky at the thought. “And your stomach?”

“Don’t care about my stomach,” I tell him in my best, most sultry voice. “At least, not right now. Other parts of me are aching.”

“Allow me to help, then, Mrs. Price.” He pulls me into his lap, dragging my skirt up.

I run my fingers through his gorgeous, full beard and shift my hips, rubbing against his cock. I love days like today. Actually, I love every day now that I’m with Clay. Everything seems bright and full of promise now that we’re together. And as he grabs the crotch of my panties and pulls them aside in a move that makes me breathless, it makes me think there’s no way I could be happier. Clay’s my life, and I was just going through the motions without him. I lean in and brush my mouth against his, lost in his touch.

There’ll be plenty of time later to tell him about his brother and Lexi. For now, I’ve got other thoughts on my mind.

Things like . . . seducing my husband.