Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Teller
Warm water pounded against my body. Last night, I’d thought I’d pass out from my erection. This morning, I was barely able to keep it under control. Just hearing Madison puttering around in the kitchen had been enough to propel me to the shower to jack off. Seeing her in the kitchen was going to do it again.
I shut the faucet off and stared as the last of the water circled the drain. Why hadn’t I tracked her to her bed and plunged inside of her? She would’ve let me. We both wanted it, needed to succumb to this intense chemistry between us.
Part of me knew she’d be dangerous. I’d rushed into a relationship once and gotten slammed back hard. And publicly. The rest of me had gleaned enough from Madison’s comments to know her shitty ex had been just as selfish in bed. But I cared for her. I was also insanely attracted to her.
So I wouldn’t rush anything. Nor would I make any promises. She could be... She could be the one.
The one. I scrubbed a hand down my face, flicking droplets of water off. Fuck, I didn’t know. I’d been single for so long, a bachelor most of my adult life. I’d resigned myself to being a bachelor forever. Finding what my siblings had, it had seemed like an impossibility. Then Madison had stomped away from me in the grocery store and consumed my thoughts since.
She’d been messed with enough. Used and discarded. I wouldn’t be another asshole jerking her around. I’d give her all the pleasure she deserved until we figured this thing out.
After I’d dried off and dressed in my normal plain shirt and jeans, I went downstairs. Her back was to me at the stove. That damn flannel of hers was covering her ass, and I let myself mourn. I’d had the most spectacular sexual experience of my life last night and I hadn’t been able to get a clear view of her. Her shirt had remained on, and I hadn’t made out much of her sweet, wet pussy in the dark.
But I’d tasted her, and I had a new craving.
How did she feel? Did she have regrets? Had I incinerated all the trust between us?
I’d rather know sooner than later. “How much are you overthinking last night?”
She stiffened and peered over her shoulder while she continued stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove. Her curtain of hair was bound in the braid. How many people knew what she looked like with it down? Was I one of the few?
“I don’t know,” she said. “I might be underthinking it.” She turned away, hiding her expression. “I mean, it was just so-so. Not worth getting worked up over.”
The tease in her response went straight to my dick. Everything she did sent my blood flowing south. “Is that why you hollered my name so loud?” I closed the distance between us and put my hands on her hips. “I bet I can make you scream louder.”
There went my attempt at preventing an erection. Pressure built behind my zipper. Not even the sight of the oatmeal she was stirring slowed the buildup.
An exhale gusted out of her, and I slid my hand around to work the button of her jeans open.
“Teller? Here?”
“Why not?” I kissed her shoulder and slid her zipper down. I could’ve jacked off ten times this morning and it wouldn’t have mattered. Arousal pounded at my temples.
“The oatmeal will burn.” Yet she kicked her hips back into me, grinding against my hard-on.
A groan left me, but I didn’t stop. “Keep stirring.”
Finally, her pants were open. I tunneled my hand between her hot skin and her clothing, past her shirt and underneath the hem of her underwear. Then I hit her slick clit.
“You’re already wet for me,” I murmured against the shell of her ear.
A shiver traveled down her body, and I felt each inch. I flicked my tongue out, licking the delicate curve of her ear.
She groaned and flipped the oven off. She plopped the pot of oatmeal between two burners and braced herself on either side of the stove. Her head hung down, but she rocked into my fingers, covering me in her juices. “I can’t believe you’re doing this again.”
“It’s not every day a sexy woman is in my kitchen.” An understatement. I twined her long braid around my free hand and gently tugged her head to the side. I laid kisses along her neck.
“Sexy?” she asked on a moan.
“So fucking hot.” I stuffed my hand down until I could push a finger inside of her. She leaned harder on her arms, but I held her braid tight. There was no way she would jerk and burn herself while I was making her come.
My heartbeat pounded behind my fly, but I ignored it. I hadn’t been lying to her. Getting her off was the ultimate pleasure. The way all that tension leaked out of her and she handed herself over to me. Madison didn’t do that for anyone. She probably hadn’t done it for her douche of an ex either because he hadn’t known what he was doing or he hadn’t cared. But she did it for me, and I didn’t take her trust lightly.
“You know how tight you are?” I growled against her skin. She lifted her hand like she was going to reach back and grab my head or link her fingers with mine. “Hands on the counter while I’m inside you.” I thrust in and out, straining to continue rubbing her clit within the constraints of her jeans.
She propped her hands back in place. “Teller.”
“I’ve got you.” Fuck, she was close. So damn responsive. Her heat branded itself into my hand. I’d never forget her taste or how she gripped me when I pushed farther in. Tension built in her and the rock of her hips got more erratic.
“Come for me.” I licked a path up her neck to her earlobe.
“Teller.” Her mouth fell open and she slammed her ass back into me. I held her tight as she shook. Each scrape of her butt against my dick sent fireworks exploding behind my eyes.
After several moments, she sagged against the counter, but I held on to her, making sure she stayed safe. Mostly because I liked the feel of her in my arms. What would it be like to wake up to her? To roll over and snuggle against her back? To go to sleep with her?
Her breathing had slowed and she was steadier on her feet. I withdrew my hand, first from her and then from the snug warmth of her clothing. I let go of her braid and placed one more kiss at the crook of her neck. She tilted her face to peer at me. Holding her languid gaze, I put the finger that had been inside of her into my mouth and licked the salty, sweet taste of her off.
Her eyes flared and a blush blazed along her cheeks. “Jesus, Teller.”
“Mm. Can’t wait to have what you’re cooking.” I adjusted my painful erection with an exaggerated movement and forced myself to back away from her.
She dropped her gaze to my fly. “I can help with that.”
“Over and over and over.”
The blush didn’t leave the crests of her cheeks. “You’re really serious about that?”
“I’m serious about your pleasure. I’m going to show you that if a guy wanted to, he would.”
Her lips parted, and I escaped to the quiet calm of my downstairs bathroom. If I went back out there before I calmed my raging desire down, I’d haul her upstairs like a goddamn caveman. I’d sling her over my shoulder and march away to claim what was mine. I probably wouldn’t even make it to the stairs if she was as eager as me.
I splashed water on my face and glared at the droplets dripping off me in the mirror. Dots of water glistened on my beard. I hadn’t looked much different last night. Haggard expression. Fevered gaze. Lust stamped into every line and crinkle.
I wouldn’t do anything differently. I’d gladly weather a painful erection to hear her scream my name a thousand times. The only doubt I had was how soon I could do it again.
Madison
I walked into work, my body still humming, thanks to Teller. I had continued to stay at his place all week, but I was driving my own pickup. He’d shown up an hour before my shift and... Well, I wouldn’t look at the pool tables the same again.
Now I had a full shift ahead of me while he was working on replacing the flooring in the bathroom before installing the new toilets we’d bought earlier in the week.
I was fifteen minutes early like I’d planned, but I slowed my steps as I walked through the nursing home side to the more independent wing Mom was in. I hadn’t seen Mom in a couple of weeks.
I slowed to a stop in front of her room. The door was slightly ajar and the TV inside was blaring. She could hear just fine, she just hated the reminder of where she was. She’d lashed out at me the last time I was here, but I had to check on her. She had no one else.
I knocked lightly and pushed the door open. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”
She grunted and slid her gaze back to the TV. “The house sold yet?”
I’m fine, thanks . “It’s pending.” Teller’s words played through my head. I really should ask Sal more questions. I had no idea what, and I didn’t want to drag Teller with me like I was a woman who couldn’t do anything without a man. I’d look like a woman who couldn’t do anything without a Bailey.
Mom gave me another grunt. “How’s Scott’s bar?”
I bristled and brushed it right off. It’d never be my place, and since I was resurrecting the place as Flatlanders Prohibited, then it would always be tied to Scott. I didn’t mind. I missed him. “It’s coming along.”
The brick was fully exposed and Teller and I had spent the last few days cleaning it.
“You seen Logan lately?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I messaged Wendi, but she hasn’t gotten back to me. You know how she is.”
“We can ask your ex how she is.”
The sting from her words was fainter than normal. I’d been left for another woman, but thanks to Teller, I’d also been treated with respect, listened to, and then there were the orgasms. Hard to feel awful about getting betrayed after experiencing everything my marriage had been missing.
“I’ll try again tomorrow,” I said. “I’m sure she’s just busy.”
“That girl always thought she was too good for us.”
“Agreed.”
Mom turned her sharp gaze to me. Tension built behind my ribs and spread outward. “What about that Bailey kid? I’ve heard things.”
I frowned and talked my pulse down. No one knew I was getting off with Teller. We weren’t a thing. He was making a point about my pleasure and I was soaking up his attention. “I’m not sure what people are saying. He works at the bar around his hours.”
“You’re riding around with him.”
Oh. The next part wouldn’t go over well, but I’d rather she heard the news from me than catch me off guard and harangue me later. “The bar was vandalized, and it’s not safe to stay in. I’m using a guest room in his house.”
“Turned into a slut for a Bailey, did ya?”
My cheeks flamed. “Geez, Mom. No. The bar isn’t safe.”
She smacked her lips against her teeth. “Wendi took what you had, so you’re taking what she had.”
I wasn’t. I couldn’t see her with the Teller I knew. I had only known who Teller was when he’d been with Wendi. I had been married and living in Missoula, but I wasn’t the same girl I was back then, and Teller wasn’t the same guy. Wendi’s leftovers weren’t making me laugh or protecting me when bricks were thrown through windows. But I wasn’t sharing any of that with Mom. “It’s just for work,” I mumbled.
“It’s nothing for him. Remember that. You’re not his type.” She raked her gaze down my gunmetal-gray scrubs as if she were pointing out that the extra six inches of height would be gross for a guy. That my sturdier build would never be desirable compared to Wendi’s petite curves or her long legs. I kept myself covered thanks to Mom pointing out flaws all my life while Wendi dressed to express, and she had a lot to say.
“Well, it’s business. I’m not worried.” I was a little worried, but talking with Mom wouldn’t assuage those feelings. I made a show of checking on the clock on the wall. “I’ve gotta clock in. Need anything from me before I go?”
“No,” she said disdainfully, turning her attention back to her show. “You ain’t got nothing for anyone.”
Mom was a cat with a busted leg, swiping at whoever tried to help her, but this time, it scraped over me like 24-grit sandpaper, chafing against my pride. I had gotten good at letting it roll off my back. What was different about tonight?
All week, I’d marveled over how nice it’d been to hang out with the Baileys. Everyone had been so supportive of each other. Mae hadn’t said one rude word toward her daughters—or anyone else, for that matter. The party had been full of mothers and daughters who loved each other, who’d been kind to each other. They hadn’t even been separated, but when a kid had run to their mom, their mom had always been happy. It hadn’t mattered which kid or which mom.
Loss tugged at my heart. I hadn’t had that upbringing. Mom had lived a hard, loveless life. I’d at least gotten some affection from my dad’s sister. Aunt Tilly used to encourage me to be better than my circumstances. That was what I was doing now. Being better to Mom than she’d ever be to me, and it was easier to do after Teller burst into my bar and my life.
“Night, Mom.” I left the room on her grunt.
Now that I was done with my obligatory visit and not feeling utterly beaten down, the talk with Teller played through my mind—about the house, Sal, and the likelihood he was screwing me over.
I didn’t know how long Teller would take with the repairs, or how long he and I would be messing around, but I wanted to absorb everything he was willing to give, and one thing was his support.
I took my phone out and sent a quick message to my real estate agent. If this panned out, Teller would earn out his bid several times over. And I’d have no idea how to repay him.