Between The Sheets Part 13

"Have you asked him about that?"

"Of course not. I don't want to push him."

"Hmm." Again? Really?"

These Gelson's are driving me insane. I wonder if that's another side effect of being with child.

Chapter 14

Ty and I have settled into a nice little routine these last two weeks. I wake up to the most delicious breakfast ever which is perfect considering I have the appet.i.te of an elephant. Then, we watch all of the morning talk shows before he leaves to the center just before lunch. I go for a run and then come back to clean myself up along with the apartment, and then get dinner ready before he gets back home.

If I ever wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, I now know better of it. I don't know how my mom has done it all these years. For the most part, I'm bored to tears when Ty is away. Being alone with my thoughts, without Ty, or my mom or Shel is less than thrilling. At least I have time to sleep though. Shel was right. For parts of the day, I can barely keep my eyes open. And it's not like I've done anything exciting to tire myself out.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," I hear Ty shout along with the door closing shut.

The sound of Ty's voice startles me awake. Oh, c.r.a.p. I didn't mean to fall asleep.

"Hey," he says, coming to my side. "A little afternoon nap, huh. Isn't summer vacation great?" He drops his bag and removes the body pillow from between my legs and slides onto the bed next to me.

"Yeah, I love it." My arms find their way around his waist and instantly, I feel all gooey inside. He cups my a.s.s, dragging his hand down my thigh and pulling it over his own. "For some reason, I don't think you got into bed to nap with me."

He arches a brow at me. "Not really. Seeing you here in those little shorts and this flimsy tank has worked me into a sweat already. There won't be any napping."

"I have dinner in a slow cooker. It's ready."

His lips touch mine for a brief, but hot, moment. "I want dessert first." He reaches under my tank to fill his hand with a bare breast. I can feel the sizzle work its way from my nipples down my belly to my core. Every little touch, flick, pinch is heightened to red alert now, and I can hardly hold it together long enough for him to strip me of my clothes before I'm trembling with desire.

"Slow down, babe."

"Not now, Ty. I want it fast and hard. Don't make me wait."

Within seconds his clothes are off and he's positioning himself between my legs. He reaches for the drawer of his nightstand and I grasp his wrist. "Don't bother."

"Huh."

"I've got us covered. I just want to feel you. All of you."

"Done." He lowers himself on top of me, looking deep into my eyes as he slides inside me inch by inch, slowly while I let curses fly out of sheer pleasure.

Ty sprinkles kisses on my mouth and neck, all while I can't help but pound the palm of my hand into the bed and cry out and moan like never before. The sensation coming from our joined bodies slapping against each other is more than I can handle.

With one last thrust, both Ty and I come at the same time, although his whimper is no match for my scream. I'm sure his neighbors think I'm the howler from the Porky's movies, but I can't help it.

"f.u.c.k me," I say, as Ty collapses on his back next to me.

"I just did. And I'm going to need the rest of the night to recover."

I chuckle so loud I let out a snort. "I can't breathe."

He reaches out to hold my hand. "Neither can I. I may kiss you silly sometimes, but you just f.u.c.ked me silly and I can't even see straight."

I glance over and see the rapid heaving of his chest going up and down. He's not kidding. He's huffing and puffing just as much as I am.

"What got into you, Melly Belly?"

"I don't know," I say between gasps. "Maybe it was the skin to skin. I have no idea. But I just couldn't hold back."

"Babe, don't ever hold back with me. I can handle anything."

My chance was there and I didn't take it. I should just totally b.i.t.c.h slap myself for being such a wuss. He was practically egging me on to tell him the truth and I just let the time pa.s.s. d.a.m.n it.

"You ready?" he asks when we park outside the teen center.

"Definitely. I can't wait to see what your kids have been working on."

Ty and the rest of the staff have arranged an open house tonight, a mini art-show of sorts, where the kids can show off their pieces to the community and their parents. For the parents who show an interest anyway. For many of the kids involved in the program, parents are not real active partic.i.p.ants in their lives. That's why they're in the program to begin with. At-risk teens who need a place to stay out of trouble. Those who have a gift and need a way to focus their energy in a positive way.

He scoops up my small hand in his and kisses the back of my knuckles on the way into the center. As soon as we cross the threshold, Ty's eyes light up and his smile reaches all the way to his eyes. He looks like a little boy on Christmas morning. The center is bright. A palette of many colors, dark, bright, primary, pastel, fluorescent. There are pencil sketches on the walls, along with watercolors and oils. A spray painted canvas is an amazing display of street art and should be in a museum somewhere. Not only wall art though. A variety of sculptures in clay are displayed on a few tables.

"This is amazing, Ty."

His smile beams down on me while he squeezes my hand. "I knew you'd love it. C'mon. Let me introduce you to some of the kids."

He practically hops over to a group of teens. While miles separate my students from his, they don't look much different. All shapes and sizes, ethnicities and colors. Ty introduces a few and they are very polite and respectful, shaking my hand and telling me what a pleasure it is to meet me. I have a feeling this place isn't all about art. These kids are learning the social skills they'll need to succeed in the real world too. Manners can go a long way.

While Ty tends to business, I roam the center admiring all the work. There are definitely varying levels of skill but each piece sends its own message.

I stop before one which totally reminds me of Tyler. Whoever painted this one has been influenced greatly by his teacher.

"Like it?" a young girl asks.

"Yes, I do. Is it yours?"

"Yeah." I don't know why but I automatically thought a guy painted it. Not this thin little girl who can't be older than thirteen. She looks so innocent.

"Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's the first time I met my dad."

What can I possibly say to that? The painting depicts two hands, which reminds me of Ty. The detail is stellar. The softness of the child's hand shaking the rough hand of a man. A man in handcuffs. Not what I expected at all from this girl who wears a ponytail, no makeup, a pink tank, jean shorts and cute flip-flops. Not what I expected at all.

"I really like Tyler's work. He's always painting or sketching hands. It made me want to do this one."

"Well, you did an amazing job. Don't tell him, but I like this one more than any one of his."

She smiles, looking down at her shoes.

"It must have been hard for you to capture that moment and share it with everyone. I'm glad you did. I'm honored."

"Thank you," she says, before she skips away.

I stare at it a minute longer.

"I see you've met Devin. She's a special girl." A taller woman with long blond hair dressed like she's ready for Woodstock stands next to me.

"Hi, I'm Melissa." I hold out my hand.

"I'm Taylor," she says, with the grip of a UFC fighter. Holy f.u.c.k! "I work here with Ty."

Oh. He's never mentioned working with a hipster beauty. She maybe funky but she's definitely a looker.

"Devin's spent the last two summers with us and has worked through a lot of issues. Ty deals with all the art stuff while I work with the group therapy part of the center. The two sides go hand in hand to create an atmosphere that really heals the soul."

"That's fantastic. You must be very proud."

"You too. You must be very proud of Ty to pull off something like this. I don't know what the center or these kids would do without him."

She turns and walks away, having filled my mind with guilt.

I glance over at Ty who is having the time of his life. He is standing in front of the graffiti mural along with a kid, who is probably the artist, and his parents. He chats with the adults while patting the kid on the shoulder. The look on the parents' faces is stern at first, but by the time Ty finishes talking, they're all smiling and sharing a laugh.

I make another round of the center before Ty makes his way back to me.

"Just give me fifteen more minutes and we're out of here."

He still hasn't let that smile fall. His cheeks are going to hurt later. "No prob. Take your time. I'm having a blast."

He bends down to press a kiss to the top of my head before he shuffles away.

As I watch Ty with more kids and more parents, for the first time, I really start to believe we can't work. He can't leave all this.

It's his life. It's his home.

But it's not mine.

After watching two hours of morning talk shows, Ty gathers his things to head down to the center.

On his way out, I stop him at the door.

"Kiss me silly."

His mouth lifts on one side, a s.e.xy grin spreading across his face.

He drops his bag.

A gentle touch of his fingertips brushes the hair out of my face before his hands cup the back of my neck.

He tilts my head up to meet his. I watch in awe as he lowers his lips to mine. Slowly and gently, soft pecks press to my lips one after another. Then, he urges my mouth open and his tongue slides in making my knees go weak and my girl parts tighten. Oh yes, I'm silly all right.

He pulls away for a second before continuing the nip at my neck. My body can only take so much as he sucks so hard I'm afraid he'll leave a mark. "I love you, Melissa," he says, the warmth of his breath caressing my skin.

"I love you, Tyler Gelson."

"And don't you ever forget it." He showers my lips with a few more pecks before he leaves the apartment with a s.e.xy as h.e.l.l smile and quick goodbye.

"Never," I murmur as the door shuts behind him.

The rest of the morning I spend packing my s.h.i.+t. I head into the bathroom first. Taking a reusable shopping bag from the kitchen with me, I clear the counter of my stuff in one swipe of my arm. I can't take the time to pack everything nicely or I'll never be able to do it. I have to make this quick. Like ripping off a Band Aid.

When I'm finished with the bathroom, I make my way to Ty's dresser. The top row of drawers is no longer mine. He can have it back. I grab all my clothes and stuff them into my suitcase on the bed. I'll fold them all again when I get home. When I'm sure I have everything, I heave my bags down the steps of Tyler's apartment and pack them in the trunk of my car.

I run back upstairs and take a sheet of notebook paper and a pen from his desk.

Dear Tyler, I swear this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do so please don't be mad at me for being the ultimate p.u.s.s.y and writing it in a letter instead of saying it to your beautiful face. I'm sorry, but I just don't have the strength to do that.

You are truly the best thing that has ever happened to me. From the time I was a little kid till now, I've been in love with you and I'm sure that will never change.

Since Christmas, I've had the time of my life reliving all the old memories from the time you held my hand at the Grand Canyon to the homecoming dance when you gave me the most beautiful first time any girl could hope for. But the thing is. Those are all memories. We had a past. A wonderful past, but that time has come and gone. We can't live there forever.