Between The Sheets Part 6

His jeans are buckled in a blink of an eye, and all I've managed to do is pull up my panties. After digging around in my purse, I toss him my keys.

He opens the door, but before he leaves he turns back and pulls me toward him in a tight embrace. "I'm so happy you're here, Mel. I've missed you so much. I'm gonna kiss you silly for the next two weeks so you better have brought your lip gloss." He backs away and taps my nose with his index finger.

"Oh, Ty. I'm gonna do more than just kiss you silly. Now, go get my stuff because I plan on getting started by spending a good portion of today naked with you."

Hours later, we're sitting in front of the TV, with video game controllers in our hands.

"I really have a love-hate relationship with technology," I say, as I try to remember which b.u.t.tons do what.

"Really? I have a love-hate relationship with my PS3."

"How so?"

I glance over. The tip of his tongue peeks out the side of his mouth. "Well, I really love my Play Station. And I really hate it when people interrupt me when I play it." He chuckles with a waggle of his brows.

"Well, excuse me," I tell him, pretending to be offended.

"Except for you, of course."

"Good answer."

"So why the love-hate for you?" he asks, as he sacks my quarterback.

"Well, I love my cell phone, the internet, and animated movies. But I really hate these effing controllers. What the h.e.l.l happened to the one with the joystick and the big red b.u.t.ton?" I toss the controller on the table. "This one is way too complicated. Let's go to an arcade so I can kick your a.s.s on Centipede. You could never beat me."

Ty sets his controller next to mine and leans back on the sofa with his head resting on my shoulder. "Oh my G.o.d. You were like a pool shark when it came to that game. You had magic hands with that roller ball. I don't think anyone took your name off the top score for months."

He's right. My hand would glide across that ball with such finesse and precision. It was like an art form with a perfect combination of roll and slap of the b.u.t.ton. I loved Centipede. And even more, I loved it when Ty would invite me and Shel to tag along with his friends. His girlfriends didn't like it, but I didn't care. And I don't think he did either.

"Remember Jen? She hated it when you and my sis would come to the arcade with us. She said I paid more attention to you than I did to her." He shifts his head upward, lining up his eyes with mine. "She was probably right. Even when you were in junior high and I was already in high school, I had feelings for you. I don't think I knew exactly what they meant yet, but there was definitely something there."

"Well I knew I had a crush on you. But if anyone told me that twenty years later you'd be nailing me against your front door, I would've never believed it." I waggle my brows at him. "Wait, at that age, if someone told me that, I may have thrown up."

He chuckles. "Thanks, Melly Belly. Just what every man wants to hear."

"Just keeping it real, dog."

"Okay, Randy Jackson." He reaches for my hand and links our fingers together. I watch as he studies are joined hands, tracing the connection with the fingertips of his free hand. "This would make a beautiful sketch. Your tiny little feminine fingers contrasting against my big man hands."

"You're right. You should sketch it for me."

"Maybe I will." He glances up at me. "What do you want to do today, Mel? Go out to dinner? Stay in? Do some sightseeing?"

I let my head fall back against the soft seat cushion. "Actually, I'd love to stay in and rest. It was a long drive. I'm going to be here for a couple weeks so I'm in no rush to hit the town. You got any cereal?"

"How about I make us some waffles?"

I laugh inside. "Nah. Cereal will do."

"Fruit Loops?"

I smile. Shel called it. "Sounds like a perfect dinner to me."

"How about a movie with our gourmet meal?"

"Even better."

When I'm finally relaxed with a giant-sized bowl of cereal in my hands-apparently human-sized is way too small-I glance over at Tyler with a grin.

"You suck," he says, and I can't help laughing. "I hope you snort a Fruit Loop up your nose."

"Shh," I tell him. "The movie is about to start."

He rolls his eyes.

After much debate, I won the battle of the DVDs. If he doesn't like romantic comedies then why does he own them? Ugh. It just occurs to me that he has them for his female visitors. Why argue with me then? Is that part of the flirting game? Argue over film choice and then let the girl think she's won. Hmm. Now, I'm skeptical. I reach for the remote and hit the pause b.u.t.ton. "Ty, if you don't like He's Just Not That Into You, then why do you have it?"

He turns his head in confusion. "Huh?"

"Why do you have it? If you don't like to watch it?"

He laughs. "ScarJo."

"What?"

"ScarJo," he repeats.

"Okay, is that some fetish you have or something?"

A brow rises on his left side. "Kinda." He winks. "Scarlett Johanssen. Take a look. I have all her films. Just like you have every Bradley Cooper movie ever made. Even that really bad one. What was it called?"

"All About Steve," I answer for him.

"Yeah. That was it. Horrible."

I press play on the remote, scoot closer to him, and then pull my feet up to sit cross legged. "Fine, if I get Bradley, you can have ScarJo. But you have seen this movie, right? She's such a scuz bucket."

"And your man as the cheating husband is any better?"

"A cheating husband is never a good thing."

"Yeah. If I ever see Nick again, he's going to understand just how bad it is."

Oh, how cute. He wants to defend my honor. "Don't bother. I'm much happier now." I lean into him with my lips puckered.

He looks adorable as he squishes his lips together making a duck face. "Me too. I should have fought for you a long time ago and you would've never had to go through the pain he put you through. I'm sorry, Melly."

"Stop. You're gonna make me get all emotional on you." I stuff my mouth with crunchy bites so the tears don't fall. "Now, really. Be quiet. I gotta get my Brad on. And Justin too. Oh, and Ben. Got my Fruit Loops and a screen full of studs. This is what I call a vacation."

"You're nuts."

I lean over again, feeling the need to kiss him one more time before the flick starts. "Now, shh."

I'm startled awake when I'm lifted into the air. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to bed," Ty says.

I'm fully awake now and could walk to the bedroom on my own, but being in Ty's arms is just too d.a.m.n good to pa.s.s up. I rest my head on his shoulder as he walks down the hallway. He places me on his bed and my eyes trace his body from his waist all the way up to his gorgeous green eyes as he stands to his full height.

He is pure man. All tall and hunky, like a cover model from one of my romance books. If I could just get him in a cowboy hat, an open plaid pearl-b.u.t.toned shirt displaying his taut abs, with a rope hanging over his shoulder, my ultimate fantasy could be fulfilled. Yeehaw, I want to say even though he's standing before me in some soccer shorts and a Hurley t-shirt. My imagination is wild enough that it doesn't matter.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" He cups my chin in his palm, and tilts my head up.

A smile spreads over my face. "I'm not tired anymore."

"No?"

"No." I reach out, grasping the back of his knee and dragging my fingernails under his shorts and up the back of his thigh. "I'm wide awake. You?" My hands travel around his legs to his rock hard quads. My breath quickens when the length of his shaft pulses against the thin piece of material that covers his flesh. I allow myself to explore and discover this man is not wearing any boxers. "Free ballin'?"

"Commando's the way to go at home," he says, smoothing his hand over my hair. "Let's get ready for bed. Then, I can help you get tired out again."

"Sounds good." I rise to my feet and circle my arms around his waist. "You go first. I'm gonna grab my bag and unpack some stuff first."

"I already brought it in." He gestures toward the door and sure enough, my things are sitting there waiting for me. "I cleared some s.p.a.ce for you in my dresser so you wouldn't have to live out of a suitcase. The whole top row is free. I also moved all my stuff from the counter in the bathroom so you can take up as much s.p.a.ce as you need there."

"Thank you, Ty. I appreciate it."

"Are you surprised?" He smiles.

"No."

"Yeah right. I bet you thought it was going to look like a frat house in here."

The thought had crossed my mind. He's a bachelor. And he lives alone. After Nick left, I didn't feel the need to keep my house as tidy as I did before. Granted, the extent of my messiness is leaving a gla.s.s of wine in the sink or a pair of heels next to the couch in the living room. But Tyler's a guy and he's an artist. I'm surprised paint, clay, and whatever else he uses isn't splattered all over the place.

"See." He points a finger at me. "I knew you thought I'd be living like a slob."

"I did not."

He folds his arms over his chest.

"Okay. Maybe a little."

"I have a confession to make." A grin forms on his lips. "I did have to do a little spring cleaning. But nothing too drastic."

"You know what I haven't seen and I'm surprised?"

He raises a brow. "What's that?"

"Your artwork? Your supplies? I noticed a couple of your pieces in the living room, and the painting in the hall, but where's the rest of your stuff?"

A full blown smile lights up his eyes. "How do you know those pieces are mine?"

I place my hands on my hips. "Really?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "How do you know?"

He knows the answer to his own question but I'll play along. "I don't know. Just looks a little amateur. Like something you'd do," I tease.

He clicks his tongue at me. "I'm not an amateur."

I smack his arm. "I'm kidding with you," I say, placing my palms flat against his chest. "I'd never forget that tug of war painting." He smiles down at me and then presses a kiss to my forehead. "That's when you first started your infatuation with hands. And I loved it. It still amazes me that you were able to capture such high school angst at such as young age. It's something I'd expect you to do now as a teacher, not when you were a teenager yourself."

His smile fades and his expression turns serious. The intensity worries me. "What, Ty?"

There's silence for another breath before he cups my face in the palms of his big hands and bends down to kiss me. His lips brush softly against mine, and then he murmurs, "I love you, Melissa. I always have."

His words linger in the air as I close my eyes, trying to determine if he really said what I thought I heard, or if I just imagined it. "Say it again."

"I love you." His mouth covers my own and desire spreads through my body like nothing before. Kiss after kiss, his tongue dances with mine until he dips his head and feasts on the sensitive skin at the base of my neck. I could hold him here forever, my fingers combing through his hair as he nips and sucks on my chest. But I can't continue like this, I need to see his eyes. I need to look deep into his thoughts and know that he means what he says.

My hands mold to his jaw line and tug his face up toward mine. I can almost feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. His eyes melt into mine and if I'm not mistaken, they're a little gla.s.sy. And not just from l.u.s.t, but from the emotion flowing between us.

"Tyler Gelson. I've loved you all my life."

Once again, I'm swooped up off the floor and I'm being carried a few steps to Ty's bed. "We can get ready for bed later," he says, as he lowers me onto his bedspread, his own body following until he's horizontal on top of me, holding up his weight on his knees and elbows. "Right now, I'm going to take my time showing you just how much I love you."

I push on his shoulder till he's resting back on his heels, and I'm sitting up. I push him down till he's flat on his back and I'm straddling him with a knee on either side of his waist. "Well you better buckle up, Ty, because I have my own ideas," I rock back and forth against his thick pulsing shaft and his eyes flutter closed, "of how I'd like to express my never ending love to you."

Chapter 8