38. Becca
THIRTY-EIGHT
BECCA
Record attendance.
Eight hundred and six people passed through my farm today.
My pumpkins are gone, even the ones I had to order from outside my farm. And according to Dusty, our animal roommates are off my property.
Tyler gave everyone an “oh my stars” moment by making an appearance at the pumpkin painting tent while he was all sweaty and blue collar yummy from taking over a few of my farm chores.
He covertly snuck the pack of Nicorette into my back pocket while he kissed me like it was nothing.
He tucked me into his body and I rested my head and hand on him, still surprised by the sparkly rings on my left hand and this typically grumpy man being willing to help me.
I carry that warm, toasty feeling with me while I close the gates and turn the entry code back on.
It was a monumental day, so I won’t feel sorry for myself that my room is still in shambles.
Instead, I’ll celebrate that I have to sleep in my husband’s bed again tonight. I’m already warm at the prospect.
When I step into my kitchen, I find my mom on her way out with her caddy of cleaning supplies in her hand and her graying blonde ponytail swishing behind her.
“Hey, Mom. I thought you were gone already.”
“Just finished sanitizing your room. Tyler told me it was quite an adventure in the middle of the night.” I try not to give away the fact that I have a fluttery heart in my chest wondering what he told my mom about our wild night.
Did he mention that we’re sleeping in different rooms?
“His parents stayed after they put Ellie to bed to help out too. I’m the last of us, though.
Tyler’s up there working on the ceiling. ”
I pout my lip and hold out my arms for a hug. “Thanks for staying to help. I can’t believe y’all did that.”
“Can’t get you to make me another grandbaby if I don’t give you a room to do it in.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I sigh. “Though you don’t need a bedroom to make a baby.”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m just saying it can happen anywhere if you’re creative enough.”
“We just got married a week ago. Could you let us at least have a honeymoon or something?”
“Honeymoon babies are a thing,” she sings. I groan and she kisses my cheek. “Night, sweetie. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I look around the kitchen, overwhelmed by how much my family and friend family have shown up for me in the last week. I spot a couple of past-their-prime bananas in my fruit basket and know exactly what to do before I head up to see Tyler.
Ten minutes later, I walk into my bedroom to find Tyler on a ladder, smoothing the now-patched hole with a skimming blade.
“Hey, sexy.”
A smile quirks up Tyler’s lips as he looks down at me. “There you are. I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you tonight.”
“It’s a lot of cleanup. But you did the bigger job in here.” I walk over to where he stands and run my hand up and down his pants leg. “Thanks for managing this whole project while I was busy. I don’t think anyone knew a thing about it, which was just the way I wanted it.”
Tyler shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard once I had help. Easier to round them up with four of us.”
“Four?” I ask.
“Dusty, Jake, and your friend Caleb came too.”
“What? I didn’t even get to see him.”
“Yeah, he’s cool. Said he was sorry he had to miss the wedding. And he also said you should get a rabies shot.”
I shrug.
Tyler sniffs. “Is that banana bread I smell?”
I bite my lip and look up at him. “Maybe.”
He grins. “Awful sweet of you.”
He’s still a couple rungs up the ladder and facing away from it with his hip leaning over a rung. I put my hands on both his calves and stroke, working my way up to his thighs. “I’m a sweet girl. Is Ellie asleep?”
“Yeah. Has been for a while.” His lips curl up more. “Why?”
I lean in and kiss around the zipper of his jeans, the perfect height where he stands on the ladder. I palm the area, tracing his growing erection and feeling him firm under my fingers. “Wanted to say a special thank you to her daddy.”
Tyler’s thumb coasts under my chin. “You don’t have to do that, baby.”
I press my tongue into my cheek and continue passing my hands over the front of his jeans. “What if it’s part of going slow?” I kiss his cock through his pants and wink up at him. “Just a wife taking care of her husband.”
My hands rise to grasp his belt and those brown eyes blaze down at me.
My eyebrows lift to ask permission and Tyler nods.
I unbuckle his belt, not letting my eyes leave his, then unbutton and unzip his jeans.
I shuck them and his underwear down until his cock springs free, so heavy it lands against my cheek with a soft slap.
I grin and look up to find Tyler grimacing.
“Sorry.”
I wrinkle my nose and giggle. “Always wanted to get slapped by your meat.”
Tyler laughs. “Please never change.”
“Dedicated to reliability,” I say as I wrap a hand around his shaft. I kiss the underside of his tip, then lick up his thick ridge while my other hand cups his balls.
I open wide and put Tyler in my mouth, looking up at him when the ladder rattles.
“I don’t want to fall.”
I pop off the tip and he hisses. “Then hold on tight.”
I pick up a steady rhythm, and Tyler groans and gasps above me.
“So good, Reba. Fuck.”
Judging by the abundance of precum salting my tongue, this is going to be one of the shorter blowjobs I’ve ever given. His knuckles are white against the ladder and a glance up shows Tyler’s head thrown back, his throat working, reveling in the delicious agony I’m giving him.
I love this power.
This man hasn’t let himself enjoy much of anything for the past few years, and I’m bringing him back to life.
And I have that unique power because he’s mine. Monogamy never hit that good for me in the past. Nice to have, but I didn’t mind having some agreed-upon variety in a relationship.
But the mere thought of sharing Tyler with someone else makes me animalistic, ready to claw somebody in the face.
Maybe that raccoon that touched my face infiltrated my brain somehow. I’ve never been like this.
“How’d I get so lucky?” he rasps. “Prettiest girl in Paint and she’s got my cock in her mouth.”
I smile around him because I love this so much: the praise, the feel of him in my mouth, the gift of getting him to let go for a little while. He grunts again and again, louder with each bob of my head.
“Baby, I’m close.” When I keep going, he whimpers and I look up to find Tyler’s jaw dropped, then clenching, his focus solely on me. “Fuck, Becca, I’m really gonna come.”
I stay right where I am and he moans again, brows pinching, words gritted out in disbelief. “You’re gonna take every drop, aren’t you? You want it all, don’t you?”
His hand grips the back of my head with a rushed out, “okay?” and my nod.
He punctuates his words with a push against my head. “My filthy, perfect wife.”
Tyler growls with one last thrust, then whimpers as the first shot hits the back of my tongue. “Becca, fuck.”
I watch him fall apart above me and suck until he’s done, swallowing him down.
“Thanks for fixing my ceiling,” I hum when I finally release him from my lips with a quick kiss to his tip.
His smile is broad, his relief feeling like such an achievement for me.
I stick out my tongue and we both laugh when he taps his cock against it a couple times.
Carefully, he pulls up his pants and tucks himself away, then comes down the ladder.
He wraps me in his arms and gazes down at me like I am solely responsible for every good thing on this earth.
“Wanted to make sure you had somewhere comfortable to sleep.”
My face muscles are tired as all hell, so I feel them slacken at my disappointment. “Yeah. Thanks.”
I was looking forward to another night with him.
I’d already thought about all the little things I’d tell him about my day, and all the things he might have to tell me.
I thought about how good it would feel to be nestled in his arms, safe and warm.
And I’m there now, but I don’t feel invited anymore.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. Just tired,” I say, starting to step away.
“Becca, I’m not trying to throw you out. I just wanted to give you your room back.”
I was the one who suggested we go slow. I just didn’t anticipate how much it would hurt when Tyler slammed the brakes.
I open my dresser drawer to get out some pajamas. “It’s fine. We’re going slow. This is part of it. No sleepover unless we have to.” The oven timer dings downstairs. “I should get that.”