Teaching Ms. Riggs

by Stephanie Beck

  Better. Everything seemed better this spring than any other one in the past. Married, kids were good, and babies on the way. He smiled as he pictured Ben before work. She’d been frantic because her pants, none of them, had fit. She’d confessed to wearing her ‘fat pants’ the last few weeks but had assumed it was newlywed weight.

  It had been a joy for him to run out to his car at five in the morning and fetch the tote filled with maternity and baby clothes one of Kira’s friend’s mothers had sent. He’d known Kira couldn’t keep a secret, and the women who had been his greatest help for years had been thrilled for them.

  Ben had a shopping trip planned for the weekend. She hadn’t shared it, but she’d been worried about money first thing after the excitement had set in about the babies. With the settlement money, she’d paid off Don’s debts, and Mark had seen a weight lift off her after she’d sent those checks.

  There would never have been an issue in getting her the things she needed. He would have seen to that before he allowed her pride to limit herself, but he knew what it was to take care of himself. Ben wanted that, and he was happy as hell she was finally able to support her needs with the honest wage she made.

  Ben wanted to take Kira shopping too, and as far as money went, he had to buck up and let that part of their life mix more. He leaned back against the bales and swatted a spider when it crawled across his chest. Changes. Lots more than he’d expected, but then, what had he expected out of life?

  He’d asked to be surprised on more than one occasion. He’d asked God to give him the strength to deal with whatever came next, and he had to smile. When life had started throwing him curves, it had also thrown him Ben.

  Thunder rumbled from outside the barn walls. Mark jumped up and pulled his cellphone from his pocket as he looked out into the clear blue sky. They were coming into tornado season. He dialed the weather service to find a storm was predicted for in the next ten hours. Which meant if he was going to finish the hay, he had to get moving.

  * * * *

  Ben grinned when Mark flopped theatrically on the couch. He’d been stacking hay bales when she got home, and it hadn’t broken her heart when he’d forbade her from helping with the heavy, hot work. She’d had a nice evening with the kids and since the weather was decent, she’d even spent an hour playing catch in the yard.

  Kira was considering joining Little League, and Ben offered to help her practice her throwing and catching skills. Thomas had joined them after a few minutes, and she had some special time with the kids she thought of as her own.

  They were an interesting little family, and she really hoped they would be huge one day. Both Thomas and Kira were excited about the babies. There was no doubt in Ben’s mind there was plenty of love to go around, even if space was at a premium.

  “So.” Mark interrupted her thoughts with a playful flick at her pajama top. “Are these your super-sexy, made-for-husband-tempting fleece pajamas?”

  “Can’t you tell?” she teased.

  He unsnapped the top button, opening the fabric an inch. “There.” He looked much too pleased with himself. “Now they’re your sexy jammies.”

  “I am a little naughty.”

  He winked, but then his face fell. His expression looked pained for a moment. “I’ve been wondering.”

  “What?” She frowned at his hesitancy.

  “Am I naughty enough for you, Ben? I mean, you talked about toys and all sorts of stuff before we got married. We can do that, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t even know where to start.”

  She thought about that. In her underwear drawer there was a perfectly good vibrator being neglected. It had crossed her mind once or twice to break it out to add to the fun, but Mark always distracted her before she got up. Solo time didn’t hold much appeal anymore. Not when a wonderful sexual experience was always only a few hours away. Being with Mark consumed so much of her mind that the perks of toys didn’t come into the equation.

  With him looking at her with such earnest embarrassment, she looped her arms around his shoulders and smiled. “Have you heard anything but sighs, screams and panting, lover boy?”

  He grinned a little. “You do make a lot of noise. I love that.”

  “And I love every single thing you do that has me making them. We’ve got lots of time for toys and games, Mark.” The rightness of the words settled in, and she knew they were true. “Yeah, we’ve got time for games. For now I’m very happy with our sex life.”

  “Good. If that changes or if you want anything more, promise you’ll say something.” His expression showed he was more worried about the situation than she was.

  With such worry on his face, she couldn’t help but want to ease some of his angst. The lights were out and the kids were sleeping, and given the topic of conversation…she undid another button. Then another and another. She watched his eyes follow the path of her skin and with each inch his worry eased and his grin replaced it.

  “How about sex on the living room couch?” she asked, tugging the sleeves down her arms. “Can you handle that brand of naughty?”

  She watched him covertly check the clock and up the stairs as well and bit back a smile. He was trying his damndest to be a little naughty, but her reasons for loving him stemmed from the practical side he was showing at the moment.

  “Oh yeah, sweetheart, I’m always up for this brand of naughty.”

  The couch cushions sucked her deep when Mark settled on top of her. She hooked a leg over the back of the sofa and hugged him close, cradling him between her thighs.

  “Are you feeling up to this, honey?” he asked, the kind, caring man she adored there even when he was attempting naughty.

  “Oh, definitely,” she promised, lifting her hips to rub against the hard erection his jeans were blocking. “But I’m thinking to do this right, both of us are going to have to lose our pants.”

  “Good point.”

  She hated to have him move away, but she let him go and he stood. She watched him shimmy off his jeans, the denim tight enough to mold his strong thighs and butt. Oh, and what a butt. When he turned away from her, just to undress, she realized he’d done it on purpose. With a laugh she reached out and smacked the flesh of his ass. He jumped a little but turned back with a grin.

  “Really? Smacking the ass of the man who’s going to make you scream?”

  “Well, seems like there’s a wee bit too much talking and not enough screaming…”

  He growled and when he dove on her she laughed until his mouth descended on hers. Then all the giggles were gone, replaced with the deep, inner longing to be pleased just as he’d promised. Mark had forgotten her pants, but since they were stretchy they came off easily without Ben having to give up touching him. The scratchy fur of his legs always thrilled her, the obvious differences in his maleness enough to make her wet and even more ready.

  The rocking always drove her nuts. He wasn’t inside her though, he only teased as his tongue did the thrusting and exploring in her mouth. Her hips moved on their own accord, trying to coax him into the spot she needed him most. His cock slid through the moisture, so close to entering, yet he slipped by, teasing the top her clit with the firm, pliable tip of his penis. For a split second she thought about her toys and how fantastic it would feel to have one inside her as Mark teased. How much closer would she already be to climax if only she had exactly what she wanted?

  “Mark, maybe we could–”

  He slammed in, the teasing so abruptly over she couldn’t even finish her plea. She tried to throw her head back and let the orgasm flow through her, but the sofa held her in place. She looked up and the grin on his face, though tight, told her everything. The tease.

  Two could play that, she thought, the smugness on his face far from a turn off, but still, even in her orgasm haze, the challenge was made. She clenched him tight, trapping his cock inside her. He groaned and pushed in deeper, eliciting the same response from her.

  Ben gasped with every thrust, keeping her va
gina as locked as possible. She’d trapped herself in her own game. The second she released she was going to go off like a firecracker, but this time she wanted to come with him. He moved harder, faster and she bit her lip to make herself last. Just another moment, just another.

  “Damn it, Ben, come for me.”

  She screamed but his mouth trapped it in an instant. Through her pleasure she felt his warm wetness add to hers with long spurts and pulls of his cock. The scream turned to a moan as she relished the feel of him inside her. There was nothing like it, not in the whole world. He pulled out and she wanted him back, but he didn’t go far, snuggling beside her as he spread a throw blanket over their naked bodies.

  “Wow,” she said. “It gets better every time. That was… Hell, Mark, you’re tricky.”

  “I know,” he replied, sounding all too pleased with himself, but since he’d fulfilled his promise to make her scream, she figured he’d earned it. “But to be fair, you were the temptress in all this. Women who wear fuzzy bunny pajamas and leave the top button undone… Well, I know what to get you for next Christmas now.”

  “More slutty, fuzzy bunny pajamas?” She yawned through her giggle.

  “Absolutely,” he answered solemnly. “And maybe some with clouds too.”

  Chapter 19

  Every damn year it was the same thing. The kids were at baseball, Ben too, and since it was quiet Mark decided to take care of the ugliest necessary evil of his adult life.

  Taxes.

  He had a guy who did them, but he still had to get everything together. If he kept better records throughout the year, he wouldn’t have to spend hours in hell every spring, but did he plan ahead? He’d intended to, but then he’d met Ben and he’d been busy with other things.

  At least all he had was the last half of the year to document and search. Tax exempt vs. write-off. Then there was the business with the kids. He was their guardian, but every year the same damn drama came up when overseas revenue came from Pierre and Kimmy. So he had to get all his court and custody documents together before he could hope to file.

  He and Ben had decided to file separately, her economic status a whole kettle of fish he was thankful he didn’t have to touch. Ben’s lawyer had handled a lot of it, and Mark couldn’t hope to follow it all. That still left him to do his own for the farm.

  The file he pulled out was a spreadsheet from the feed store for his grain purchases for the year. It might as well have been gibberish. Until he gained his bearings on a page and forced himself to recognize the numbers and re-write them in the correct order, check and double check, they would remain that way. What should have been adding twelve numbers on a calculator turned out to be a ten minute job from hell.

  The phone rang and he happily accepted the reprieve, leaving the damn papers for a moment. “Hello?”

  “Is this Mark Dougstat?”

  “Yes. Who is this?” The voice wasn’t familiar, but that didn’t mean much. Grain companies and crafters called pretty regularly to ask questions.

  “I’m an old friend of Bennie’s,” she replied. “Is she in at the moment?”

  “I’m afraid not,” he answered, and when he looked out the kitchen window he saw a car pass slowly. He frowned. “Who is this again? I can take your name and number if you’d like.”

  “Oh no, I’ll try later, don’t worry.”

  Weird, he thought as he hung up. Ben’s friends from work called once in a while, but…just weird. He sat at the table and forced himself to work. He was perfectly aware of the severity of his dyslexia. Most days it didn’t bother him. The three-inch stack of invoices, bank reports, and receipts assured him this day would be an exception.

  “Oh, my goodness.”

  Deep in thought and transcribing, Mark jumped at Ben’s exclamation. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his pencil as she awkwardly hopped on one foot.

  “What the hell happened?”

  She looked up and smiled at him when he put a bracing arm around her shoulder. Pain was something he was pretty familiar with in their short history, and he saw the pinched lines around her eyes even though her smile was as beautiful as ever.

  “I twisted my ankle at Thomas’s game. It started swelling, not like I could tell since I’ve gained so much weight, but Sara Watson told me to come home and ice it. She’s going to take the bunch out for ice cream after and drop them off before dark. I love country life. We don’t need times, we just need a relative knowledge of the sun.”

  “Is it the same side you broke? That’s probably why it’s swelling more.” He lifted her carefully, grinning when she squealed a protest.

  “Mark, I’m huge. Don’t you dare hurt your back.”

  “You still weigh less than a big bale, darlin’ and you know I can lift two,” he told her. “And your doctor said it’s all baby. Babies.”

  He settled her at the kitchen table and put her foot on an empty chair.

  “We’ll ice it and if it comes down well, we’ll call it a sprain. If not, we’ll head in to urgent care and have it checked.”

  “Oh, we will not,” she scoffed. He heard papers shuffling as he searched for an ice pack. “What’s all this?”

  Her tone had cooled, and it hit him that his desire for privacy in stumbling through his paperwork might look deceptive to her, especially after her ex. They’d discussed what she’d had to do in the aftermath when all of Don’s dealings came to light, and Mark knew a table full of papers was sure to trigger bad memories.

  “Just taxes.” He pulled out Thomas’s old favorite ice pack covered in faded ninjas and tried to stay casual. “Nothing big, just doing receipts so Bernie can do the paperwork next week.”

  “Bernie? Is there a tax guy out there who isn’t named Bernie?” Ben laughed but he heard the tension still there. Considering her past, she did an admirable job with trust, but he could see they were on thin ice. Ice he needed to shore up so his pregnant bride didn’t question his motives. Ever.

  “Yeah. Actually, I got started and I was thinking, why the hell am I doing this alone?” The words killed his pride.

  If a task presented itself, then he believed wholeheartedly God gave him the strength to complete it. This time the task was multifaceted. Marriage, he was learning, was one of God’s greatest tools in love, duty, and humility.

  “Oh? Are you just going to have Bernie do it?”

  “No, I was going to ask you.” He knelt before her, draped a towel over her swollen foot, and then wrapped the ice pack around. “I thought we could work together on it and get it done in half the time.”

  “Really?” She looked hopeful and doubtful at the same time.

  The combination broke his heart, because he saw it slip at her more vulnerable moments. She wanted so much to believe she was safe with him, and for the most part, he believed she knew it. Insecurities were dirty monsters, though, and even he had his moments where he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing.

  “Think you can help me, honey?” He slid the folder closer with the worksheet Bernie had sent. “I just need to calculate the receipts and fill in all this stuff. If you work the calculator, I can get things in order for you.”

  Her smile was too bright, and Mark thought he saw tears gather but nothing fell. His wife, so sensitive. Without another word, she started working the calculator.

  Part of him unclenched and he realized how much he’d been waiting for her reply. She’d said she wouldn’t push and that he could ask for help without them talking of why. Keeping her word had put to bed another fear. He retook his seat across from her and put the invoices together.

  She wasn’t the only one with insecurities, but more than ever his confidence in their relationship grew. Perfection didn’t have a place in their home or obviously the doors would’ve been closed for him long ago. Mark smiled as he put another phone bill in a stack and brushed hands with Ben as she reached for it. Perfect or not, life still felt pretty damn good.

  Chapter 20

  “Come on,
Ben! It’s time for the three-legged race!” Kira shouted, tugging her when the game was called.

  Ben bit back a groan as she let herself be pulled to her feet. Her ankle was better, so she couldn’t even use that as an excuse. She was glad they were there, but wanted to put her swollen feet up while in the shade. The whole summer was left for her to expand and sweat, but both of those things were better in the shade.

  “Come on, squirt.” Mark hooked Kira up by her armpits and tossed her over his shoulder. He grinned. “You don’t want Ben on your team right now. She’ll just slow ya down with her big belly. She can cheer and get ice cream cones for the winners.”

  “Which will be us, right?” Kira squealed.

  “It better be.” He laughed and winked at Ben when she mouthed her thanks.

  She caught sight of Thomas helping one of the moms at the ice cream stand and glided over. She’d already gain twenty pounds, most of it really the twins at nearly six months along, but anyone who mentioned waddling was a dead man. Ducks waddled. She glided, damn it.

  “Hey, handsome,” Ben greeted her nephew after he handed a sloppy vanilla cone covered in sprinkles to an equally messy first grader. “What’s the special?”

  “Root beer floats,” he answered, already scooping ice cream into plastic cups. “I hate doing cones. If you want one, Mrs. Ribins will have to do it or it’ll look like that kid’s.”

  “Okay, two root beer floats, one with chocolate sauce, please,” Ben requested and looked to the mom in the stand.

  “He’s doing fine.” Patty Ribins smiled fondly. “How’re you feeling, Ben?”

  “Fine, really good actually since Mark got me out of the three-legged race. I can barely handle my own these days, an added one makes me nervous.”

  “He’s a wonderful uncle,” Patty said, and again Ben was reminded how much Mark did for the community.

  “He’s more of a dad.” Thomas’s admission surprised them both as he poured root beer. “We’ve got him broken in for the twins, right, Ben?”