Once I was situated, he handed Tallulah back to me, and ordered, “Sandwich her between us. I’ll drive slow.”
And he did, indeed, drive slow.
Tallulah had a damn good time, while I had a minor freak out all the way to the house he was renting.
Exactly a minute and a half later, even with going slow, we arrived at our destination.
“Big ol’ house,” I murmured as we pulled up to the front door.
And I do mean right up to the front door.
Tommy drove straight up the pathway, and then parked underneath the porch, effectively shielding us from the rain.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s a friend’s house.”
“It’s amazing,” I said. “I didn’t even know that it was here.”
Tommy got off, and I held onto Tallulah who’d finally quieted down from her exciting ride.
She was all grins, even with her baby curls plastered to her head from the rain.
She thought this was the best thing ever, I was sure.
She wouldn’t be doing it ever again, though. Not if I could help it.
Tommy reached for her once he was standing, and I handed her over.
The willingness on Tallulah’s part to go to the man was unsurprising at this point. She was in love and I was not far behind her.
Tommy kept showing up at the worst (and best) times. He was saving me over and over again, and I’m not sure he even realized it.
“Let’s get inside.”
Chapter 10
I’m jealous of girls who can take cute pics while sitting down in bathing suits and not look like a busted can of biscuits.
-Text from Tally to Hadley
Tally
I wandered through Tommy’s house, looking at his things, while he took a quick shower.
I was on the second round of his kitchen when his voice startled me so bad I jumped.
“Here,” Tommy said. “Give her to me and go get your own shower. There are towels on the first shelf in the closet. There’s girly shampoo that my sister left the last time she stayed in there, too. Regular smelling soap on the rail. My soap is in the dish.”
I handed Tallulah over, and she buried her face into his neck.
I nodded my head as he situated Tallulah’s on his shoulder, holding her bottom with one strong, tattooed forearm.
Her eyes were getting heavy, and I could’ve sworn she kissed him on the cheek the moment I gave her to him.
She was clean, dry, and in a new diaper that would hold her over for the entire night.
I, on the other hand, was still resembling a drowned rat.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to forget the way he looked, shirtless, with a baby—my baby—against his bare skin.
“Welcome, honey. Now go.”
I nodded, and then left, heading for a bathroom that was unlike any bathroom I’d ever seen before.
This house was magnificent, and I wondered idly who the hell he’d rented a place like this from.
I’d never seen it before in my life, and I’d lived in Mooresville for years now.
I’d never once suspected that a house was in the hills on this particular dirt path off the road that I’d been on thousands and thousands of times, but I learned something new every single day.
I went to the bathroom, trying to ignore on the way everything that was on the counter and in the shower.
I didn’t want to be a snooper, but Jesus. Honestly, show me one single lady who wouldn’t snoop when using a man’s personal bathroom.
Turning on the shower to hide the sounds of my snooping, I turned and carefully started to open cabinets and drawers.
The first two I opened weren’t so great. Brushes and combs in one, and medical supplies in the other.
The fourth drawer I came to, though, had what looked to be a two-year supply of condoms.
I shut it quickly, and then stared at it in horror.
Why would a man need that many condoms?
Surely, he wasn’t that much of a manwhore that he needed a supply like that.
Surely.
Steam started to cover the mirror as I stared at myself in shock, and I licked my lips before stripping off my wet clothes.
They went into an empty hamper right beside the bathroom door, and I inspected my body.
My legs were red from the way my jeans chafed the sensitive skin, and I skipped right over my belly.
That thing wasn’t anything to write home about.
In fact, just a single look at it made me want to drop to the floor and do sit-ups.
Not that sit ups would help it.
I had a flabby, post-baby belly, and nothing but a tummy tuck would get rid of the loose skin and the stretch marks.
I’ll never be able to get into a bikini again. Not without offending the general population.
My ass and legs were at least still in fairly good shape.
My arms, however, well, they needed some work.
When I waved at people, I always felt like they were staring at my flabby arms instead of my face.
But that was likely just me.
I had a double chin—or the start of one—and I knew I wasn’t attractive any longer.
Not that I was ever anything to write home about.
I was the girl next door, the one who looked pretty when she tried.
Or at least I used to be.
Now it took a lot more than a hairdo and a coat of mascara on my lashes to make this post baby body pretty.
With dark thoughts clouding my mind, I got into the shower, and immediately fell in love with everything about it.
It was one of those walk-in showers without a door, and towards the back there was a showerhead, two of those jet thingies, one on both of the side walls, and a large rain showerhead that hung in the center of the ceiling.
Only the regular showerhead was on, but I looked at the control panel that was at chest level with curiosity.
There were numbers, buttons and dials.
It was like something from the future.
The first button I pushed changed the water temperature.
My eyes turned to look at the knobs that were across the space, and I smiled.
Though this one was less hot than I would’ve liked, I didn’t push any other buttons that had numbers. Those must be pre-set numbers.
The next button I pushed had dashes and lines, which apparently worked the jets.
One jet turned on and hit me in the belly, while the other came on second…shooting straight into my ass.
Though I guessed that it was likely positioned to hit right around the area where Tommy’s thighs would be.
I just turned to the side and left the jets on, curious now what the other buttons did.
The next two I pressed turned on the rain head and started the jets pulsing.
And by the time I got to the last button, I was convinced that when I finally got to the point where I could build a bathroom like the one I was standing in, I was going to put a shower very similar to this in.
A, because it was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen, and B, because it was one of the best things I’d ever felt in my life.
By the time I washed my hair—with Tommy’s shampoo since I’d forgotten to grab the girly stuff out of the cabinet after the condom fiasco—and soaped up my body, I was fairly certain I could live a good life right here in the shower for the rest of my days.
My eyes lit on the razor in the corner notch of the shower, and I bit my lip as I lifted it off the ledge.
I couldn’t not shave. I had to shave. It was imperative that I did.
Why? Because I hadn’t done so in well over two days now, and Tommy had said he’d grab me a t-shirt.
I couldn’t wear just a t-shirt around the man with my leg hair long enough to feel.
I just couldn’t.
And I didn’t.
I used the soap—tha
t also smelled manly and spicy—and shaved, unbelievably astounded at how well a man’s razor worked compared to a woman’s.
I was going to have to start buying men’s razors if they worked as good as this one did.
And oh, God. Having the water pulsing into my sore thighs as I shaved, and the warmness of the shower surrounding me, I was very reluctant to get out.
And probably would have stayed in a few minutes longer had a knock not sounded at the door.
Unenthusiastically, I turned the shower off, and made my way out as I called, “Yes?”
“I grabbed you a change of clothes.”
My heart started to beat a million miles an hour.
“Thank you,” I said as I reached for the towel.
Oh, God. It was warm.
My eyes went to the bar, and I realized it was one of those warming towel bars that kept the towels warm forever and always. Whenever you wanted to shower, it was there, waiting for you.
I could seriously get used to this!
I’d just gotten the towel partially covering my breasts—and I say partially because my nipples were still exposed—when the door opened and Tommy’s arm appeared.
“Eeep!” I squeaked, reaching instinctively for the clothes he was holding out.
He’d been looking down at the floor to ensure that he didn’t accidentally see my body, but the weird noise I made caused his eyes to flicker up, and then become frozen on my body.
I had big boobs.
Really big boobs.
In fact, they were still big because I was breastfeeding, and they’d not been small to begin with.
“I’ll just be, uhh, out here,” he murmured.
I cleared my throat and clutched the clothes to my chest, but before I could blink, he was gone.
I looked down at my chest to see just how much boobage he actually got, and yep…there was full nipplage.
Perfect.
Just fucking perfect.
And the icing on the cake?
My fucking milk was dripping out of them.
Just wonderful.
Though it always happened while I was in the shower, something about the hot water and my milk letdown, I’d never had it happen when someone was there to see it.
Full of mortification, I got dressed in the clothes he provided me—which weren’t much.
A faded black t-shirt that smelled like him, and a pair of boxer briefs.
Yes, a pair of his underwear.
That fit.
They were surprisingly comfy, though.
My breasts had luckily stopped their faucet imitation, and I was now ready to go face the man who’d seen me practically naked.
My freakin’ teacher.
Oh, my God, I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t. I was just going to move into the shower.
If he needed it, I’d hide in the closet.
But then Tallulah’s ‘I’m hungry’ cry filled the air, and I had no choice but to go out there and face the man.
He had my child, after all.
And he also didn’t have boobs to feed her.
Walking out of the bathroom like a child dragging their heels, I headed towards the crying.
I found my unhappy child in Tommy’s lap while he tried to distract her with a set of keys.
It wasn’t working.
Not even a little bit.
“My mom didn’t feed her dinner,” I said. “We think she’s getting another ear infection.”
Tommy frowned.
“She’s hurting or hungry?” he asked me.
“Both, probably,” I admitted, reaching for her.
He handed her over, and I took a seat on the recliner before discreetly lifting my shirt up for Tallulah to latch on.
I chanced a peek up to see Tommy’s eyes trained directly on me, taking everything in with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher.
My gaze immediately snapped back down as my cheeks went hot.
Doing some rearranging, I fidgeted and wiggled until everything that could be covered, was covered.
Tallulah was oblivious to the charged silence in the room, her hungry mouth suckling away without a care in the world.
“Let me go get my bag out of my room, and we’ll check her ear.”
I blinked as I looked up, finally making eye contact with him, and froze.
He was staring intently at me, enraptured by my every move.
Then he smiled a smile I hadn’t seen from him before, and all I could think was ‘oh, shit!’
Why?
Because that smile communicated that he was done with the nice teacher act. Done with trying to stay away from me and out of my pants…and I couldn’t say that I had it in me to resist him.
I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, and it was obvious in the way we watched each other.
Oh yeah, this was about to come to a head, and I knew without a doubt that it was going to be earth shattering—for both me and my vagina.
***
An hour later, I found my ass on Tommy’s bed, nervous as hell but seriously glad that I’d shaved.
“I’ll call in a prescription for her tomorrow,” he was saying into his phone as he walked around the room. “And we’ll give it to her if she exhibits any more signs other than the pulling of her ear. I might need you to go get it.”
Tommy had, in fact, looked in her ear.
While I was still breastfeeding her.
He didn’t seem to care that he was only millimeters from my exposed breast.
If he could be a professional about it, so could I.
At the time.
Now, not so much.
Tallulah was sleeping, and I’d just gotten off the phone with my dad telling him where I was and what had transpired to get me there.
After my father had hung up, I’d come to the bedroom—the only one with a bed in it—and quickly sat down before throwing the fluffy covers over me.
I tried to make my eyes take in Tommy’s house instead of the man himself who was flexing, bending and shaking in front of me.
Okay, so he wasn’t intentionally doing those things.
He was on the phone with someone—one of the guys from his club—telling them about Tallulah, my car and where they could find it in the morning.
But he was animated when he spoke. Very animated.
His muscles rippled, and his belly bunched. His eyes shone with each of his expressions.
I roughly ripped my thoughts away from the contemplation of his abs and forced myself to look at the walls surrounding me. I could see the entire house from where I was sitting on Tommy’s bed.
The door to his bedroom opened to a hallway that was smack in the middle of the open living room/dining room, and across the hall from that was another bedroom where I could see Tallulah sleeping in a Pack-n-Play that apparently, his sister had left there for when her kids came to visit.
“All right,” Tommy growled in frustration. “I’m likely not making it to church in the morning. Not unless you can meet me at the dry line.”
The dry line he was talking about was where the part of Mooresville that wasn’t flooded met with the part that was.
I looked down and studied the sheets on Tommy’s bed.
They were jersey knit sheets, and they were so soft that I made a mental note to go buy some for my bed the next time I had a little extra cash.
The comforter was made of the same material, and I wondered if he’d miss it if I took it.
“Yes, I’d miss it,” he answered my unspoken question.
I looked up, startled to see him off the phone and paying attention to me.
He was in sleep pants and nothing else.
His dark hair was still slightly damp from his shower and fell messily around his face.
His chest was wide and tapered down to a narrow waist.
And he had chest hair.
Quite
a bit of it at that.
I wanted to run my fingers through it and then see what it felt like against my lips.
I wanted to…
“Ready for bed?” he asked me, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yes,” I replied huskily, sinking down further in the bed so he wouldn’t see my hardened nipples.
He grinned and turned, his hand flashing out to catch the light switch that was in the corner of the room, plunging us into darkness.
Nervousness rushed through me, and when I was nervous, I tended to jabber. I gave him my full life story already when he’d caught me talking to Russell outside the hospital a few days prior. And now here I was, blurting out stupid questions that really weren’t any of my business and certainly didn’t need to be brought up while in the same dark room as the sexiest man alive, who was also my teacher, was getting in bed next to me.
“Ummm, so I’ve gotta know…” I licked my suddenly dry lips. “What’s with all the condoms in your drawer?”
My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I stared hard at the man lying on the bed beside me.
There wasn’t much to see.
But what I could see caused me to become even more nervous.
He was in nothing but his underwear now.
My eyes were gazing at his belly, and I felt the moment that he started to laugh because his belly tightened from its relaxed state.
I’m not saying that Tommy didn’t have abs when he was lying down, but the moment that first laugh burst out of his chest, his abdominal muscles tightened, forming into firm ripples of clearly-defined ridges and indentations.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, trying to control the urge to reach over and place my hand on his belly.
His chest started to jump even harder, causing my entire body to shake right along with him seeing as he was shaking the entire bed.
I started to blush profusely, and my embarrassment started to morph into anger, but his words stopped that anger in its tracks.
“I distribute them at health fairs,” he explained once he calmed down from all that laughing. “It’s not something that I can really have sitting out in the open, so I hide them. If you’d gone past that first drawer full of them, you’d have seen that the next five drawers and two cabinets were full of them.”
“Why do you have so many?” I asked. “Aren’t they expensive to buy?”
Fear the Beard (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 2) Page 8