Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
DELLA
I’m holding up a paint sample in Delia’s old bedroom when I hear the door slam, and I can tell by Jensen’s footsteps that he’s on a mission. It never stops with him. He’s got as much energy as he did the day we met, and that was a handful and a half.
“Della!”
I lean into the hall. “I’m upstairs.”
He sprints up the stairs, appearing in the doorway, carrying his hat. “Did you know Julie-Mae is going out with Gage?”
I set the sage green sample down and pick up the off-white one, holding it to the windowsill.
“No, but it doesn’t surprise me,” I say.
His eyes roam over the room, dropcloth already on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“I’m fixing up this room for if Delia wants to spend the night when the baby gets here,” I say. “Jon will leave in the fall to run the cattle, and if she wants to stay with us while he’s away, she can.”
“When I met you, I didn’t think you’d be as into renovating as you are,” he says.
“Well, I do get free renovations on tap.” I set the samples aside and sink into the windowsill, folding my hands in my lap. “Why do you care if Julie-Mae goes out with Gage?”
“Because he’s fucking wild,” he says, frowning.
“And you’re not?”
His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Not like him. He’s Deacon Ryder levels of wild.”
“And yet, Deacon is one of your closest friends.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t married to him.”
I give him a firm look. “Is it possible you don’t want things to change?”
“How’s that?”
I shrug. “You gave your oldest daughter away last year, and now your baby is dating. Maybe you’re feeling just a little bit…out of control?”
The corner of his mouth turns up, and he points at me with his hat. “Don’t you therapize me, baby.”
I cock my head, and he comes close, lifting me to my feet with an arm around my waist. He smells like the outdoors, like the sun on golden hay and the wind off the mountains. I let him kiss me, responding as my body does. When he pulls away, he seems a little more relaxed.
“I’ll therapize you all I want,” I say. “Sometimes, you need it.”
“I’m gonna therapize that pussy,” he says, slapping my ass.
A shock of desire moves through my hips. He was gone late last night, but I wanted him enough that I reached for the second best thing in the dresser. It’s not the same, doesn’t work me over and work me out the way he does.
“I wish you would,” I say, ducking from his grip.
He comes after me, chasing me down the hall.
I clatter down the steps and into the kitchen, stopping short.
All my children are there, and there’s coffee bubbling on the stove.
Julie-Mae is furiously baking muffins, her back to the door as she stirs.
Landis is sprawled out in the chair, and Delia leans on the counter, holding her stomach.
“How did you get in here?” Jensen says.
“Uh…we just walked in like usual,” says Landis.
“We were just painting,” I say, smoothing back my hair. “Upstairs.”
“You were being a couple of sluts,” says Delia, ever her father’s daughter. “We heard you running around.”
“A couple of degenerates,” says Landis. “Appalling.”
Julie-Mae glances over her shoulder. “It’s embarrassing, honestly.”
Pretty early on in our marriage, I realized Jensen’s sass appears to be catching. I’ve never met three people who can tease more, argue louder, and fight harder than the Childresses. I should have known the minute I met him in the stockyards that he was never going to raise laid-back kids.
“Yeah, it is embarrassing,” says Jensen, ducking into the kitchen. “Mostly because it resulted in you.”
Julie-Mae gasps, but she’s smiling. Jensen flips off the coffee pot and starts pouring dark liquid into the mugs lined up on the counter.
“You got something you want to tell me, Julie?” he says.
I sink down beside Delia. “Jensen, maybe not now.”
Julie turns around and crosses her arms. My youngest daughter looks like a Cooley, willowy, with long dark hair and brown eyes.
Out of all my children, she stands out the most. Delia is easy, very good natured.
Landis is outgoing, charismatic, and thoughtful.
Julie-Mae is a little menace. She wants everything all at once and she’s got no sense of danger.
“Why?” Julie-Mae says, tilting her chin.
“Because I don’t know how I feel about Gage,” Jensen says.
Her face flushes, and I have a pretty good idea how she feels about him.
“It’s fine. Dad didn’t like Jon either,” says Delia.
“I did,” says Jensen. “He was just old.”
Everybody looks at him.
“Anyway,” Delia says. “Just let the idea grow on him, and he’ll come around to it.”
“The number of times I’m roasted in my own home, that I pay for, is what’s appalling,” says Jensen.
“Oof,” Delia interjects, running a hand over her stomach.
“You all good?” I ask. “You’re pretty close to your due date.”
She nods, breathing in and out slowly. “I’m fine, but these Braxton Hicks have had me up all night. Feels like somebody’s cinching me up, can’t breathe.”
“Nothing else?”
“No, I’m fine, Mom. Not in labor,” she says, giving me a look.
Jensen sinks down on my other side, a hand on my thigh. “She’s alright, darling.”
“Says the man who’s never done this.”
“You’ve got a point.”
Delia laughs, rolling her eyes. Julie-Mae’s timer goes off, and she starts shooing everybody back so she can open the oven. Pretty soon, everybody’s got a coffee and a muffin, and we’re all gathered around the table, just like old times again.
After a while, Jensen gets up to set his cup in the sink. “Now, you all clear out, or you’re about to witness something really appalling.”
They do, leaving us alone in the kitchen.
Jensen has that look in his eyes, the one where I end up underneath him.
Rising, I move quickly from the kitchen and make a quick sprint up the stairs.
He’s on my heels with all the energy of when we first met.
His fingers catch my skirt, but I sidestep him, ducking into the bedroom.
I try to shut the door. He forces it open, snatching me around the waist and pulling me back against him.
“Bad girl,” he whispers into my neck.
Breathing hard, I wriggle my ass back against his groin.
He’s hard, ready to go, like he always is when he plays with me.
Abruptly, he lifts me off my feet and slings me onto my back on the bed, reaching for his belt.
My hands move fast, ripping off all my clothes by the time he’s got his pants undone.
He grips my thigh, pulling me close. I gasp, head falling back as his cock slides inside me, thick and filling me just the way I crave.
He bends in, kissing me briefly. My hands dig under his shirt, pulling up over his head. Nails dragging over his tattooed chest, I lift my mouth to his throat and bite.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans.
His spine does a little whiplash movement, thrusting his cock so deep in me, it aches.
I lurch, taking the brunt of it against my spread thighs.
His jaw tightens, hips dipping in a series of slow, shallow thrusts.
The head of his cock strokes that spot just inside, sending delicious tingles through my body and making my stomach swoop like I’ve tumbled over a cliff.
Abruptly, he flips me onto his lap and sinks back into the headboard.
Usually when we do this, it’s rough, pretty dirty.
But today, he slows it down by gripping my hips, lifting me a little, and easing me onto his cock.
We both inhale sharply as he bottoms out.
I rock back and forth, adjusting. His palm drags up my thigh, tracing patterns on my side.
“You pretty well adjusted for me, baby?” he asks.
I nod, giving a little shiver. He feels so good, big and filling me to the brim.
The corner of his mouth turns up as his hand tightens, moving with the rocking motion of my body.
His free hand moves between my thighs, brushing where we connect, encircling his cock with his fingers so he can feel the way he stretches my pussy.
“You like that, baby,” he says.
Not a question—he knows.
I nod, lids heavy. “I love that.”
Gently, gathering the arousal from between us, he eases his middle finger in, working it slowly so he doesn’t hurt me.
The added fullness is heaven, pressure in all the right places.
The tip curls, finding that sensitive place and caressing gently.
The sensation is slow at first. Then, it’s bright and overwhelming, a hot pleasure and a growing need to release.
“Oh God,” I whisper.
“Look at me, baby,” he says.
I drag my eyes to his, panting.
“You want to come on my cock?” he asks.
“Yes.” My hips shake. “Please.”
“You want to come on it, you have to squirt on it too, baby.” His finger speeds up, moving in time with his dick.
The impending pleasure is right there, ready to burst. I just need—oh, fuck, there it is.
He moves his finger a little deeper, hitting the perfect spot at the same time as he thrusts up, filling me so full, it twinges.
I come apart, throbbing around his cock and finger, pulsing hard as wetness spills over his groin.
“That’s right. That’s my girl,” he breathes.
I shake, unable to speak until the pleasure ebbs away. He’s so turned on, his eyes are bloodshot, heavy-lidded. Without speaking, he picks me up, slides down to his back, spins me around, and puts me on his face. His tongue runs between my thighs, licking my pussy clean.
“Lean over, baby,” he says, muffled. “Jerk my dick off onto those perfect tits.”
Breathless, squirming when he goes right back to tonguefucking my pussy, I lean in and grip his cock, still wet from being inside me.
He groans, nipping at my inner thigh when I lick up his tattoo.
My head spins. I love it when he’s right on the edge like this, so hard, I can feel his pulse in my hand.
“Sit back,” he says, pulling me in.
I’m always a little hesitant, even after years of sitting directly on his face, but I ease down, and his cock twitches.
His tongue slides into my pussy, fucking me.
I grip his cock firmly and lean over to spit on it.
There’s a tremor in the faint V of his lower stomach, letting me know he’s close.
With one hand, I push my tits together and press the head of his cock into my cleavage to start jerking him hard.
He moans, face between my thighs. Then, his body ripples, stomach going rigid.
His cock throbs, and the first pump of cum spills over my breasts.
I keep my hand going until he’s almost done.
Then, I pull back and turn, straddling him quickly.
Before he’s done, I have him back in my pussy, and I’m riding him, my tits covered in cum, bouncing so he gets a full view of everything.
He pushes himself upright, dragging me in for an open mouthed kiss. His tongue is between my teeth, and I’m ripping my nails down his chest just the way he likes. When he pulls back, I follow his mouth, nipping at his lower lip.
“Fuck, you are incredible,” he breathes.
I laugh breathlessly, pushing my sweaty hair back. “You act like it’s the first time you’ve been laid.”
“Every time feels like the first time in your pussy,” he says, kissing me again, briefly this time. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll eat you out again.”
“You need to calm down,” I say, climbing off him.
He grabs me around the waist, pulling me back into his lap. “You’ve kept me hot and bothered for a long time now. I don’t think that’s gonna change anytime soon.”
I shake my head, but twenty minutes later in the shower, I’m watching him all wet and sexy, and I regret turning down that last orgasm. He notices me watching and smiles. I give him a look that has him dropping to his knees, draping a leg over his shoulder.
We’re both exhausted by the time we make it to bed. I curl up, the window open to let in some air. Jensen stretches out behind me, throwing a heavy arm over my waist. He’s out in seconds, breathing gently. I close my eyes, happy and satisfied.
I’m dead asleep when my phone lights up. Hazily, I reach for it. It takes me a second to get it unlocked, and then I’m upright in bed, slapping Jensen across the chest. There’s a long text on the screen, but my eyes eat it up so fast, it has my heart pounding.
“What the fuck?” He shoots upright, eyes wide.
“Delia’s in labor,” I gasp, jumping to my feet.
“Oh, shit. Do we go…or stay?”
I turn on the lamp and slide open the closet. “She says it’s happening fast and we should get to the house.”
“Her house?”
“Yes, Apparently the baby is coming now,” I say, grabbing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “They had time to get the midwife there but not get to the hospital.”
He gets up, reaching for his pants and shirt still on the chair. I pull on my shirt inside out and my shorts, grabbing my slip-on shoes. Delia had said she wanted me with her when she gave birth, so I already have a bag packed, but it’s not under the bed where I left it.
“Where’s my bag?” I ask, tearing back the bedding and lifting the mattress.
He pauses. “Well, it ain’t under the covers, baby.”
“Jensen,” I say, giving him a desperate look.
He crosses the room, kissing my forehead briefly. “You run and get in the car. I will get the bag and be there in a second.”
It’s a relief for him to take control. I snatch up my phone and clatter down the steps, turning on the kitchen and hall light.
Outside, it’s still hot, and the moon shines in the center of the sky.
It’s a little after three. I yank open the truck door and climb inside just as Jensen steps out onto the porch, bag over his shoulder.
He’s calm, but when he gets in, there’s a trickle of sweat running down the side of his neck.
“Where was the bag?” I ask.
“In the bathroom.” He turns the key, backing up.
Now that I think about it, I did put it there the other day. He gets on the road, and I reach out, taking his free hand. He gives me a soft glance, weaving his fingers through mine.
“This is the next part,” he says.
“It is,” I say. “Thanks for doing this with me, all the parts of life.”
“Hell or high water, baby.”
I smile, despite my nerves. He says that a lot, has over the last twenty years. Nobody is more loyal than Jensen once he puts his roots down. I truly know nothing could tear him from his family. I squeeze his hand, and he drags his thumb over my skin, back and forth because he knows it calms me.
We drive hand in hand, heading into a new chapter together.