Between The Sheets Part 8

"What?"

Oh, son of a b.i.t.c.h. Did I really say that? So much for waiting to tell anyone about the baby. The plan was to try for a while without saying anything. I know I would've told Mel, but I didn't plan on sharing it with my brother. What if he tells my mom? The last thing I need is the mother hen offering her opinion on everything I do until I get pregnant. It's going to get even worse when I really do have a bun in the oven. She's gonna hover like a lion ready to pounce. I just know it. "Don't you dare tell mom or I'll kill you."

"So are you really trying? You want to get prego?" His cheerful voice is music to my ears. He'll be a great uncle. If he's home.

"Well, kinda. We want to have a baby, but we also know that it probably won't happen right away. We'll just try and keep our fingers crossed."

"Good for you. Congrats." Mel's voice is faint in the background. "It's my sister. She wants to get pregnant." I hear a squealing oh my G.o.d oh my G.o.d. "Can you believe that? I can't imagine being a dad right now. Look at this place, it's not exactly baby proofed. I don't mind being an uncle though. I can always give the kid back."

"Ha ha," I tell him. "You'll make a great dad someday."

"Someday is the key word. Just not anytime soon," he says.

"Give me the phone," I hear Mel say. "Stop. Give me the phone." She laughs hysterically and there are some slapping sounds.

"What are you doing?"

"She's abusing me, sister. She's slapping me."

Mel calls out, "He's tickling me, Shel. He may not live to see tomorrow."

"Foreplay," I say, wondering if I'm talking to myself since they're still playing around.

"I gotta go, sis."

I guess I don't need to wonder anymore.

Chapter 9

When Ty asks me if I want to see Alcatraz today, I jump at the chance. I've been to San Francisco many times but have never made the trip out to the island. The clouds and fog have always gotten in the way, keeping me from visiting the creepy tourist attraction. But today, the coast is clear, the sun is shining and I'm only here for a few more days, so why the h.e.l.l not.

The entire ride over on the boat, I can't help thinking of Sean Connery and Nicholas Cage in The Rock. I know others must be imagining Al Capone or George "Machine Gun" Kelly locked up in the small cells on the island, but, not me. The entire film plays through my mind as we cruise through the choppy waters. The bay looks dark and scary and I wonder how in the h.e.l.l any prisoner could possibly jump in that freezing water and think they could swim all the way to the sh.o.r.e. Maybe they did some serious training or weightlifting in the slammer and considered themselves the next to win the Iron Man triathlon or something. I doubt it though. The big lump of earth out there doesn't look like it could've been geared toward keeping the inmates in the most tip top shape. Instead, it looks eerie, and damp.

We take the guided audio tour, and pa.s.s through the prison with old school headphones covering our ears.

"What the h.e.l.l?" I tell Ty, after listening to interviews of raspy-voiced inmates as I scan every detail of the cement block otherwise known as a penitentiary. I rub my ear in irritation. I'm not some high school kid who wants to walk around like a DJ with these suckers plastered to my head. "What happened to the little old lady docents? What the heck kinda tour is this?"

Ty stares me down with a smirk. "Mel, this isn't the frickin' MOCA. We're visiting a prison. You should just feel lucky the cell doors don't have functioning locks or I'd accidentally throw your a.s.s in one of them."

"Trying to get rid of me, huh? What, did you see some hoochie mama you'd rather take home?"

"Yeah, I did. That one right there." He gestures to a flashy woman who didn't get the memo that leggings are meant to be worn underneath something else. Especially cheap, worn brands. I really shouldn't be able to see that she has pink check boy shorts on. If I could manage to get any closer, I could tell you the brand too, her pants are that that transparent. Nasty a.s.s. I'd expect to see this at work, not that it's any better, but not from a grown a.s.s woman. transparent. Nasty a.s.s. I'd expect to see this at work, not that it's any better, but not from a grown a.s.s woman.

"Oh, honey. If you want that, by all means, go get her. You don't have to lock me in a cell. I'll gladly let you go if that's your taste."

He tosses his arm around me and rests his forearm on my shoulder. "I wouldn't even know where to start." He shudders. "I guess I'll just keep you for now."

"I see how it is. Keep me for now, until something better comes along. You know I can kick box, right? I could knock you on your a.s.s with one of my Rambo kicks in half a second if you p.i.s.s me off, so you better watch it, big guy."

A big belly laugh roars from Ty.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," I tell him as I turn to him with a finger to his chest. "Wanna try me?"

He grasps my tiny wrist in his big hand and rests it on his shoulder. "Yeah, I wanna try you ... in every way possible."

Whew. Is it getting hot in here? His hungry stare pierces my body straight to the center of my lady love. "I'd say let's get a room, but the metal bed frames and the bars kind of kill it."

He flashes me one of his trademark grins and it hits me just as hard as his stare. When is the next ferry off this f.u.c.king island? I need this man. I want this man. Now.

When we've finished walking around the poky, Ty's phone is loaded with comedic photos of yours truly. There is one of me behind bars reaching out to him with a psychotic facial expression crying out for help. Another one shows me flipping pages of a magazine while I sit on a dingy porcelain commode. If there had been seat covers, I would've pulled down my pants and let him get a shot of me with them gathered at my ankles. Now, that would've been some funny s.h.i.t.

My all-time favorite pose is of me kneeling down in the recreation yard, my hands holding rolled up brochures, waving them in the air. My face is pained and desperate as I yell, "Don't drop the bombs!" The brochures really don't look like the flares in The Rock, and I can't really pull off Nick Cage very well, but hey, I tried. And the laughs I got from the other tourists were worth getting my pants dusty in the knees. I'd say it was worth the humiliation, but this is me we're talking about. Like I'd be embarra.s.sed about making an a.s.s out of myself.

"You and my sis are movie wh.o.r.es," Ty says while sliding his finger across his phone, glancing at my photo shoot at the clink.

"You mean to tell me you've never reenacted one of your favorite movies in the big house?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle. "No, can't say that I have."

With a little tug on his belt, his eyes lower to mine and I murmur, "Well, I'm sure there are plenty of films we can bring to life when we get back to your place."

Before we head to Ghirardelli Square this afternoon, I make Ty promise to go for a run with me. If I don't want to feel guilty about consuming another 3,500 calories of hot fudge, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate fudge brownies, I need to get my a.s.s in gear.

We're on our second mile when Ty slows to a crawl. "What's wrong?" I ask. "Daddy long legs can't keep up with these little wheels?" I pat my thighs.

"Babe, you know I can keep up with you. I think I've more than proved I can in the last two weeks. In fact, I think you've burned enough calories rolling around in my sheets to eat five sundaes and about thirty truffles." Now, he's stopped, and is panting with his hands on his hips, sweat dripping down the side of his face. His damp skin is glistening in the early morning sun. Jeezus. This man exudes uber amounts of s.e.x appeal, making me want to drag my tongue down his neck, lapping up the salty moisture and following the trail down to his hard abs and beyond. "Thinking about chocolate already?"

"Thinking about dipping you in chocolate and taking my time licking you clean," I confess, my girl parts squeezing with desire.

He looks at me blankly for a second before shock registers on his face. "Well, that has to burn some calories too. I say we stop at the store on the way home and pick up some chocolate syrup. I wouldn't want to deny you one of your fantasies. I mean ... who am I to get in the way of your imagination?"

Two cans of whipped cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup later, I'm in Ty's shower with hot water running down my body.

"I had no idea chocolate could be so sticky," he says as he steps inside with me.

"Yeah, no kidding. Did you get everything into the washer without it dripping all over the floor?"

He laughs. "Yeah. It wasn't as bad as it looked. I think next time we should just head to Ghirardelli's first and eat the chocolate there. Then we can come home and work it off. Wearing it isn't as hot as I thought it would be."

I run my fingers down the center of his chest toward his taut abs. "Actually, you wearing it was plenty hot. Tasted pretty d.a.m.n good too. And I can't complain about the clean-up." My palms flatten against his sculpted pecs now, and he springs to life poking me in the belly.

"On second thought, it's not so bad at all." With one of his hands threaded in my hair and his other firmly holding on to my a.s.s, he leans in and devours my mouth in a seriously scorching wet kiss. The sweet taste of chocolate on his tongue fills my senses and sends my body into overload. Again.

We just finished one round of the hottest s.e.x I've ever experienced. The warmth of Ty's tongue as he sucked the chilled whipped cream from my nipples. The heat of his tongue as I watched him lick chocolate from my lips. And not the ones attached to my face. Sweet mercy, that was just minutes ago and here we are ready to do it all over again.

"I'm going to go home with muscles I didn't know I had," I tell Ty as he lowers himself to the floor and hikes my left thigh onto his shoulder.

"Shh. You have some more syrup down here. I thought I got it all earlier. I guess not."

Holy s.h.i.t. I think I just heard my skin sizzle with the flick of his tongue. "Poor me," I groan.

Poor me and poor him is all I can think of as we take turns getting our fill of each other. It isn't until we're breathless, trying to recover from round two, that we actually grab the soap which is why we got into the shower in the first place.

Give me a minute, though. With the tender touch of Ty's soapy hands tracing lazy circles over my body and the gentle ma.s.sage of him shampooing my hair, I just might be ready for round three.

My eyes flash open way before I'm ready to get out of bed. Tyler is sleeping on his back next to me with one arm resting above his head and his other hand on my thigh. The warmth of his touch brands my skin, and I'm hoping I'll still be able to feel it long after I leave today.

His sun-kissed bare chest is well-defined and smooth, with a golden happy trail that disappears under the bright white sheet covering his lower half. He's beautiful. And he was all mine for two of the best weeks of my life. From parading around the town like a couple of tourists to acting like an old retired couple, we've made one h.e.l.l of a pair.

I'm not ready to leave it all behind.

I'm not ready to say goodbye and not know when we're going to have this again.

I've been bidding farewell to Tyler Gelson for more than half my life. You'd think I'd be used to it. But for many reasons, it's even harder now. When he left for college, I knew there wouldn't ever be anything between us, so I used it as a time to heal my heart and move on. It worked for the most part. I dated. I went to prom. I did what most teenage girls do. I hooked up with teenage boys. I sure as h.e.l.l didn't fret over my first love who was older than me and out of reach. Not much anyway.

Ty would come home to visit his family for the holidays or for anything else his mom summoned him for. I'd see him. He'd see me. It'd be awkward. And then he was gone before I could get used to seeing him again.

When I finally left for my own college experience, the run-ins with Ty happened even less. But when I did see him, even though there were uncomfortable stares, I knew there was something there. And not only on my part. I was no longer some naive girl with a nagging crush. I knew my feelings for him were real, and I knew he had feelings for me too.

That night at prom, when our dates ditched us, I discovered just how much he felt for me when we made love for the very first time on a soft plaid blanket under the stars at the top of a deserted street most of us called Hookup Hill. Silly me, I talked myself into thinking it was just a pity lay on his part. He couldn't possibly share the same feelings I had, could he?

But years later when I looked into his eyes after I introduced him to Nick, I knew I was wrong. He did have feelings for me. Real feelings. A lot of feelings. And it was too late.

Ty had come home for a quick visit for the Fourth of July holiday. Shel and I were home for the summer. Nick and I had been dating for months but he had never met my family. So I invited him to join us. But, I didn't know of Ty's plan to make an appearance. I can still remember the punch in my gut when I saw him and his long stare as he took in Nick's arm around my waist holding me tightly against him.

What sucked a.s.s about that bittersweet day was that I had just realized Tyler Gelson, the great love of my life, really did love me and and there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing I could do about it. I had moved on. I loved Nick. Not the way I loved Ty, but it was something. That had to be the hardest goodbye of all. It was like I was saying goodbye forever. there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing I could do about it. I had moved on. I loved Nick. Not the way I loved Ty, but it was something. That had to be the hardest goodbye of all. It was like I was saying goodbye forever.

Thankfully, I got a second chance. And this time, I'm going to do everything I can so I never have to say goodbye to Tyler again. From now on, it's going to be a till next time till next time kind of thing. kind of thing.

Ty lets out a breathy sigh, and my gaze focuses on his chest rising up and down.

This gorgeous man is mine. And I'm not going anywhere. Geographically, yes. But my heart will always be with him, no matter how many miles are between us.

I've finally got him back, and I'm not ever letting go.

Chapter 10

It's summer, yet I wake up shivering. I'm home now, and I'm alone in my bed without the warmth of Ty's lean, hard body lying next to me. Not exactly what I want to dwell on as soon as I wake up this morning. I'd rather think about our two weeks of record-breaking heat together. And I'm not talking about the temperature in the Bay Area either. Every minute with him was amazing, falling into a routine, enjoying each other's company, both inside the bedroom and out.

My phone rings, the sound of the Friday Night Lights theme song filling my room. I reach across my fluffy comforter and pillows to s.n.a.t.c.h my phone from the charging station on my bedside table.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Hey, Melly Belly," Ty says, his voice cheerful so early in the morning. "How are you still in bed? I woke up hours ago. I can't sleep without you next to me."

My heart squeezes. "I can't either."

"You should have just stayed."

I run my hand through my hair. "Yeah, I should have. I don't have anything going on except for taking care of my pooches. I miss them and I'm sure my mom can use the break."

"When do you get to pick them up?"

"My mom's finally back from her vacation so I'm going to pick them up today. They'll keep me busy, at least. I'm probably gonna go insane watching the clock tick till I see you again." There's an awkward silence as I consider what to say next. "And when exactly is that again?"

He clears his throat. "Not for at least three weeks. I volunteer at the local teen center. We need to get the cla.s.ses up and running before I can get away. I'm kicking myself for taking this gig. I wanna jump on a plane and be there with you."

"Soon, babe. You know you're going to have a great time with those kids. I'm glad you're doing it again."

"We both have a soft spot for struggling adolescents, don't we?" I can sense the smile in his eyes. "There's just something about the ones who are a little rough around the edges."

"Project?" I tease.

"No. That's not it. I think it's watching them succeed against all odds that does it for me. I try to help in any way I can."

"Yup, I know the feeling. I'm a sucker for a happy ending too. When I see my kids, the ones who most thought were a lost cause, cross the stage and get their diplomas at graduation, it makes all the extra hours of phone calls and come-to-Jesus talks worth it." This last May, I had a student introduce me to his mom. She thanked me, shaking my hand and not letting go. She expressed how grateful she was to me for being there for her son and how she didn't think she would've seen him graduate if it hadn't been for me. She's a single mom, working two jobs to care for her elderly mother and her two children. Because of that responsibility, she wasn't always aware that her son was ditching and getting into trouble all the time. He loves his mom, but has some serious daddy issues. But he figured it out. Now, he has a high school diploma to get him started and he got a part-time job at the airport. Each of my students has a story to tell. I could flip the pages of the yearbook and share all their sob stories, some more sad, depressing, and maddening than others. But the best tales are the ones where the students beat the odds to find success, just like Ty described.