Teacher's Troublemaker (Culpepper Cowboys Book 4)

by Merry Farmer

  “I’m super hungry tonight,” she purred.

  Oven mitts. All he could think about were the dinosaur oven mitts on his hands. Damn those dinosaurs!

  “As delicious as that food looks,” she hummed, moving in closer and closer, lips drawing nearer and nearer to his, “you look ten times as good.”

  “Only ten?” he growled in return.

  She laughed low in her throat, then threw both arms and one leg around him. Her kiss was everything a hot, sticky, wedding night kiss should be. It was amazing that she was still a virgin, what with the way she knew how to use her tongue, but Chris believed her a hundred percent when she’d told him she was. He was more than ready to change that status.

  Then, with a gasp, Chastity pulled back, eyes bright. “Wait! I have a wedding present for you.”

  “You do?” he choked out. Crap, he hadn’t gotten her anything. Well, anything other than the gourmet feast that he was pretty sure was about to get cold on the table and the hunk-a hunk-a burning love in his trousers.

  “Hold on a second.”

  She turned and dashed out of the room before he could ask any questions. Chris held up one of the dinosaur oven mitts like a puppet and said, “Damn straight!”

  He wasn’t going to waste any more time. He rushed to the table to start putting all the serving dishes and platters of food back in the stove. It could keep warm there for a little bit. And if he was being honest with himself, it wouldn’t take that long to do the deed the first time. Then they could pause, refuel, and go back at it for the rest of the night. He threw off the dino-mitts and unzipped his fly. It was a fool-proof plan.

  “Ta da!” Chastity burst back into the room, holding up something pink and fuzzy in the…in the shape of a…a willy? It had a dainty little knitted ball sack at the top too. “It’s Johnson jammies,” Chastity announced proudly.

  Chris’s mouth dropped open, and his jammie holder jumped. “It’s what?”

  Chastity giggled, slinking forward across the kitchen tile, waving her knitted present in front of her. “It was an accident at first. I was making baby socks and, well, penis happened.”

  “Yeah, sometimes penis happens,” Chris conceded as his own happening screamed to burst forth from his jeans.

  “Want me to try it on you to see if it fits?” Chastity wiggled her eyebrows.

  Chris flushed hot and cold all over. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He leaned back, bracing his hands against the counter for support and thrusting his hips forward to give her full access to his little test subject.

  Chastity giggled, flushed, eyes sparkling, as she came forward. He’d already done her the favor of unzipping, so all she had to do was grip the sides of his waistband and pull down. Which she did. With gusto.

  Chris gasped as little Chris popped out in the open, as if shouting, “Surprise!” He had nothing to sneeze at down there, but the way Chastity’s eyes went wide and the thrilling, excited giggle that fluttered up from her as she looked at him was all the gratification he would ever need.

  “It’s so much bigger in real life,” she gasped.

  “Wait, who’s been showing around pictures of my wee-wee?”

  She laughed. “Not yours, silly. I have seen pictures, you know.”

  “Oh really?” He would have crossed his arms and pretended to scold her if he didn’t want her hands on him so badly he could hardly breathe.

  “Well, a picture,” she admitted. “Once. In a school textbook.” She dragged her eyes up from his flagpole to say, “Okay, it was an illustration.”

  “Well, baby, here’s the real thing.” Sure, he sounded crass and dopey, but in all honesty, what man wouldn’t be just a little smug with his jeans around his thighs and his wife staring at his pride and joy, as if it was an ice cream cone and she wanted to—

  He gasped as Chastity grabbed hold with her free hand.

  “Ooh, it’s all hard and soft at the same time.” She moved her hand up and down his shaft a few times before feeling everything below. “I guess I forgot that these things had hair on them.”

  “Yep, they do,” Chris choked. If she kept up her exploration, it was all going to be over long before he was ready and they’d have to clean and disinfect the kitchen. And they did not have a good track record with soap.

  “Awesome,” she gasped. “Let’s just try this sucker on.” She pulled her hand back, then slipped on the little pink confection she’d knit. “Hmm. Sucker. Maybe that’s not the best choice of words.”

  “No, it’s fine,” he croaked.

  He couldn’t help but let out a loud, groaning breath as she sheathed him in wooly goodness. It was a little tight and a teensy bit scratchy, but the sensation was so novel that he hardly noticed. Chastity bit her lip as she adjusted the fit, tugging and tucking and generally testing his powers of endurance to the highest degree. The thing was warm, that was for sure, but it couldn’t hold a candle to how hot he was getting.

  “I think Kolby was right about needing to make them with a hole at the end,” she said.

  Kolby? Chris didn’t even want to think about his brother right then. Although he may have had a point. Things were a little…flared and tender down there at the end of the sock. Just a little bit…rough.

  Which, of course, made him want to rub it against things. Inside of things. A lot. He couldn’t remember the last time Chris junior had had such a reaction to stimulus.

  “What do you say we continue our product testing in the bedroom,” he managed to squeeze out.

  “That sounds like a fabulous idea.”

  But before he could push away from the counter, Chastity wrapped herself around him again and brought her mouth crashing down over his. He wasn’t about to complain. Not with that tongue of hers. He clinched his arms around her, giving in to instinct and rubbing his little buddy in its sweater up against her. Come to think of it, that felt kind of good. Kind of tingly. He ground against her, producing the same gratifying sensation as scratching a particularly vicious itch.

  “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do it,” Chastity said at last, breathless and grabbing at his clothes. “Goodbye virginity, hello sexy wife.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Chris hummed.

  Crazy and clumsy as it was, he picked Chastity up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the jammie wonder between them. Walking with everything hanging out like that and his jeans around his thighs was the world’s biggest challenge, but he managed it one step at a time. And wow, the way things rubbed and tightened between them was out of this world.

  So out of this world that by the time he made it to the bedroom and flopped onto the bed, Chastity still in his arms, it was almost uncomfortable. He ignored it, though. Yeah, he was hot and bothered, but at the moment, he just wanted to get Chastity naked. He tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, slipping it up over her head.

  “Oh my gosh, yes, yes, yes,” Chastity moaned. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. Like, ages. My entire life. I have wanted to lose my virginity since the day Mama told me how important it was to have.”

  She arched her ribcage so Chris could unhook her bra and tug it off. Man alive, she had great knockers. Fifty shades of pink, that was for sure. As soon as they were out in the open, he smoothed his hands over them, looking, touching, loving. He couldn’t get enough of them. He wanted to brush and squeeze and lick and suck and—

  “What the hell?” He had barely touched his lips to one stiff, pink nipple when the weird sensation coming from below pulled him completely out of the moment.

  No, not weird sensation…itchy sensation.

  “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

  Chastity reached for the little sweater and all it contained. The second her hand closed around him, Chris yelped. Not just itching, burning.

  He leapt back, rocking to his knees above her, and grabbed at the Johnson jammies. He couldn’t get the thing off fast enough, but the friction of pulling it off was a whole new level of pain than he’d ever experienced.


  “Holy crap,” Chastity gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth. Her eyes were pinned to his crotch.

  Wincing, Chris looked down, knowing what he would see. Yep, little Chris was bright, splotchy red. Like, not just normal aroused red. It was ‘lobster in a Santa suit’ red. Worse still, little welts were already forming along his length. The tip was on fire.

  “Is that normal? Is that supposed to happen?” Chastity gulped, alarmed.

  “Nope,” Chris ground out.

  “Oh my gosh, what’s the problem? What did I do?”

  Chastity scrambled to sit up. Her apple-perfect breasts bounced just enough to send a surge of desire through him. That extra blood where it would usually have been welcome made Chris grimace with pain.

  “Water,” he choked. “I need cold water.”

  He scrambled off the bed, half falling as his feet hit the floor. His jeans were now around his knees, but he shook them and his underwear off as he dashed to the bathroom. The sink wasn’t at the right height, so he turned on the tap in the bathtub, crawled in, and held himself under the cool stream.

  “What did I do? I knew I would do something wrong,” Chastity squeaked as she rushed in after him.

  “You didn’t do anything,” Chris assured her, wincing. “I don’t know what—”

  But he did. It hit him a second later as everything began to shrivel and ache and sting all at once.

  “Chastity,” he panted, black spots forming at the edges of his vision. “Was there any wool in that yarn?”

  She blinked, looking lost and hopeless. “Uh, yeah? Probably? Most knitting yarn has wool in it.”

  Chris groaned. “I’m allergic to wool.”

  Chastity gasped, slapping her hands to her mouth. “Crap. What do we do? Call the doctor? Get your mom? Should I dial 9-1-1?”

  “No!” Chris held out a hand to stop her. He couldn’t imagine ever living down the story of being picked up by an ambulance and driven to the hospital with a bad case of willy-poisoning. “No, but I’ve got some Benadryl in the medicine cabinet. Just give me some of that and I’ll be fine.”

  Chastity jumped toward the cabinet, groaning as she did. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about wool allergies. And in such a sensitive spot too. Oh, I’ll have to go out and find some really soft wool-free yarn to make you another—”

  “No!” he shouted. He instantly regretted it. “No, that’s okay. I…maybe we should rethink the concept of Johnson jammies.”

  “Yeah.” Chastity sighed as she brought a little pink pill over to Chris. He was so desperate that he downed it without water. “I guess that will take some time to kick in,” she said.

  The water was helping, but at the moment, squatting naked in the bathtub with water splashing over his blood-red sausage, Chris couldn’t help but think it would take a very long time for his libido to kick back in too.

  “Sorry, babe.” He sent her an apologetic glance. “But hey. I made you dinner.”

  The corner of Chastity’s mouth twitched in spite of her disappointment. A snort escaped through her nose. She clapped a hand to her face, and a moment later burst into full-on laughter. Chris couldn’t help but laugh with her, as ridiculous as everything had turned out. So much for wedding night monkey sex. On the bright side, at least he had a beautiful wife with a great sense of humor.

  And excellent cans.

  3

  There were no two ways about it. The next morning, Chris was definitely walking funny. He’d taken enough Benadryl to make him loopy and wore the softest, loosest jeans he’d been able to find buried in his dresser drawers, but the little guy still wasn’t happy about its adventure with Chastity's knitting experiments. Of course, he’d known his new wife was a knitter. He should have mentioned something about his wool allergy sooner. His mom had never been able to wash his clothes in the same load with his brothers’ it was so bad.

  Ah well, water under the bridge…and flowing from the bathtub tap against his red and swollen pride and joy. He walked into the Culpepper stables with a smile on his face, in spite of the lingering sting down south, and greeted the horse nearest the door with a friendly pat on her neck.

  “Rest up today, girl,” he whispered, giving her a quick stroke. “I’d give you some exercise, but I’m in no shape to ride.”

  He laughed at himself, then crossed the stable to check stalls, looking to see if anyone had fed the horses yet. It looked like they could use a morning snack, so he went around doling out oats and giving each of the Culpepper stock a friendly rub in greeting. He’d always liked the family horses. They were sweet, feisty, and full of energy. Kinda like his new wife.

  Chris grinned at the thought of Chastity. She’d been beside herself with guilt over his willy incident the night before. As soon as the Benadryl had kicked in, all he’d wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep until the swelling went down. Chastity crawled into bed with him wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt. That hadn’t helped the situation between his legs, since little Chris kept wanting to jump up and play in spite of his season-ending injury. Chris had wrapped his arms around his new wife, spooning her and letting his hands wander down to her parts unknown. He’d offered to fiddle around with her girly bits so at least one of them could have an orgasm that night, but Chastity—in spite of being more than a little worked up and slick—had insisted she didn’t deserve it and refused.

  It was probably for the best. Chris wasn’t sure he’d have been able to handle watching and feeling her burst with ecstasy while he whimpered in pain. Maybe tonight, once the swelling went down all the way, they could—

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  Chris whipped around to see Karlan striding toward him, a scowl like a thundercloud marring his face. Great. A look like that could only mean the town council was fighting about that traffic light again or his big brother was having trouble adjusting to married life.

  “I’m feeding the horses,” Chris answered, trying his best to keep it light and lift his brother’s mood. “What are you doing?”

  Karlan marched right up to him and yanked the oat scoop right out of his hands. “I’m stopping you from overfeeding the horses and making them sick.”

  “I wasn’t—” Chris stopped himself and took a deep, calming breath. “So they were already fed this morning?”

  His question was answered by Cooper, who popped his head around the stable door as if he’d overheard the exchange. “It’s 10:32. Of course the horses have been fed already. Don’t you ever look at the schedule?”

  Gritting his teeth and trying hard not to be annoyed, Chris pivoted to face Cooper and shrugged. “I didn’t see a lot of feed in their troughs, so I figured maybe someone skipped a step.”

  “They didn’t.” Karlan stomped across the stable and tossed the oat scoop back in the barrel.

  Chris vowed not to lose his cool over his brothers’ attitudes. “Town council being a pain?” He approached Karlan slowly, searching the stable for some other work he could do.

  Karlan tensed, then puffed out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “If they don’t stop arguing over that traffic light, I swear I’ll stick a traffic light every ten feet on every road in town to teach them a lesson. And then, when they complain about those, I’ll take them all down and shove them up their…” he huffed a laugh, meeting Chris’s eyes. “Yeah, they’re being a pain.”

  Satisfied that Karlan wouldn’t pop a blood vessel due to stress, Chris thumped him on the arm and headed back to the far side of the stable, where a pile of tack needed cleaning and oiling. He took an oilcloth and a can of polish from the shelf.

  “Why are you walking all funny like that?” Karlan asked. “Or do I not want to know?” He crossed his arms and snorted.

  “Well, you know. Wedding night.” Chris turned back and winked at him.

  “What’s this about a wedding night?” This time it was Kolby who appeared around the corner of the office door.

  “Chris here
apparently had an interesting one,” Karlan informed him.

  “Very interesting.” Chris did his best to keep the truth buried under a grin as he selected a worn set of reins from the tack pile and walked to a bench against one wall where he could sit and work on them.

  “With Chastity, I’m not surprised at all,” Kolby drawled.

  “You should hear some of the things Hope has told me about that sister,” Karlan added with a laugh, shaking his head.

  A jolt of protectiveness hit Chris in the gut. “She’s just energetic,” he defended her. “And she has more ideas bopping around in that pretty head of hers than you can shake a stick at.” He draped the old reins across his lap and unscrewed the can of polish.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Karlan laughed.

  “You should see the stringy, lacy thing she got Joy as a wedding present,” Kolby laughed. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” His face flushed.

  “I wonder if she gave Hope anything.” Karlan rubbed his chin, but wherever that thought was headed, it was cut off at the pass. “Hold on, what are you doing now?” he stepped away from Kolby and marched across the stable to snatch the reins away from Chris.

  “Hey, I was going to clean and treat those.” Chris grabbed at them, but was too slow.

  “It’s a waste of oil,” Karlan said. “These are long gone. You got them off of that pile of junk to be recycled, didn’t you?”

  Chris frowned, his chest going tight, his gut aching. He tossed the cloth aside and screwed the lid back on the polish, then stood. “I don’t see any labels marking that stuff as junk. It looks like it could be saved to me.”

  Kolby stepped forward to take the leather reins from Karlan, looking them over. “No, dummy, look.” He held them up. “The leather’s done. These are too likely to snap at the wrong time and hurt someone. You can’t risk using them anymore.”