TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,42
furrow of Nya’s brow. “Yeah…” she agrees. “Just… you know… trying to remind ourselves of why we fell in love in the first place. Traveling down memory lane and all that…”
Momma gets up from her seat and crosses the room, stopping to stand just in front of us. Her hand lifts to pluck a piece of straw from my wife’s tangled mane. She examines it closely then removes a few more. “Guess you found what you were lookin’ for then?”
I snort, and Nya’s head bobs slowly. “Yeah… I think so. I feel closer to Liam than ever.”
Momma nods, trying not to laugh. She’s such a shit. There’s no question where I got my sarcastic nature. “Crazy to think what you went searchin’ for’s been under your nose all this time.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t have to traumatize my horses to find it.” Momma winks, and my wife responds with a sharp inhale, realization finally dawning on her.
I glare at my mother, begging with my eyes for her to stop while she’s ahead. “We’re gonna just go on up to bed.” There’s an unspoken “you should do the same” hanging in the air between us.
“Good night, children.” Momma kisses each of our cheeks then floats off to her own room with a shit-eating grin she can’t, or won’t, wipe from her face.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I hadn’t noticed the nest in your hair, but trust me, she’d have known anyway.”
“How?” Her arms cross on her chest, bunching her tits up, making it damn near impossible to focus on anything else.
“Because…” I rise to my feet and join her in front of the closet, slipping my arms around her waist and drawing her to my chest. I trail my nose along the bend of her neck, enjoying the way she shivers in my hold. “You looked downright sassified.”
She snorts. “Ohhh-kay, Clarence Carter.” Her eyes roll like it’s some imagined thing as she slithers out of my hold. This is one of those times I wish she could see herself through my eyes.
“It’s true. Your cheeks were flushed, and your eyes sparkled like you’d just seen the stars…which you had. Your clothes were rumpled and covered in dirt and wood shavings. And your smile.” I clutch her chin, tugging at her lower lip. “Jesus.” Leaning in, I feather kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other. “That satiated smile is one I plan to see make a reappearance very soon, and often.”
For a brief moment her lids flutter and her breathing escalates. My dick stands at attention, ready to report for duty and make good on my promise.
“Yeah?” She twists out of my embrace. “Maybe you should hold off on trying to seduce me until we’ve dealt with removing this stick from my ass?”
“Right,” I say, biting back laughter. “Bend forward and place your palms flat on the ground.”
“Downward dog?”
“Wha—?”
“The yoga position…”
I shrug. “Face down, ass up, babe… Call it whatever fancy name you want.”
Once she’s gotten into place, I completely forget the task at hand. Instead I stare at the globes of her ass and the delicate curve of her hips. The column of her spine, where I’d love nothing more than to trail my tongue.
“What are you doing?” she asks, peeking up at me from under her arm. “This isn’t exactly comfortable, you know.” Her voice is strangled from her bent position.
“Right. Sorry… got distracted.”
“Well, get undistracted, please, before all of the blood in my body settles in my head.”
“On it.” I retrieve the purple-handled tweezers from the dresser then try to locate a spot where I can grip the sliver of wood, but it’s completely embedded in her flesh. “It’s in there deep. I can’t get it.” Defeated, I toss the tweezers back on the dresser.
“Can’t you just squeeze it to the surface with your thumbs or something?”
“Babe. I’m serious. Your ass swallowed this thing up.”
“This isn’t funny.” Her voice is panicked and shaky.
“Want me to get mom and see if she can do it?”
“What?” she shrieks, popping back up to her feet. “Hell, no!”
“Ya got two choices…Momma, or the urgent care.”
Three hours, a local anesthetic, small incision, and tetanus shot later, my wife and I are on our way back to my parent’s house with a one-inch sliver of wood in a plastic baggy as a souvenir.
“So,” Dr. Tate hedges. “Your legs are touching, and you aren’t looking like you want to flay each other alive this morning. I take that as a sign the trip to Texas