Joy and Tiers (25 page)

“Well, thank God for small favors!” I mutter under my breath.

Heather punches me in the shoulder. “No, you dumbass! I’m trying to make a point here. I’m a whole lot squishier than those women. I’ve probably got more cellulite in my left calf than they’ll ever have in their whole body. I’ll never be perky.”

“Heather, look at me. I’m making a point too,” I say, as I point to my long frame. “As you’ve observed many times, I’ve got an awful lot in common with the Jolly Green Giant. Small and delicate is not my speed. I’ve discovered I like my women to be hot girls from the East coast who are transplants to Oregon and happen to be of Italian decent. By the way, you broke the house rule, you have to name a positive thing.”

Heather looks befuddled for a moment, then confesses, “I’ve never had to stuff my bra.”

“Trust me, as a guy who was repeatedly let down during my explorations in junior high, that was probably a really good thing.”

“Tyler Joseph! If you had your hands down a girl’s shirt in junior high, you deserved to be let down. Does your mother know you were such a precocious young man?”

I chuckle. “Oh, I think she had a pretty good idea. I suspect my mama has calloused knees from all the time spent praying for me. Truth be told, she still probably spends a fair amount of time praying for me, just to be on the safe side.”

“It sounds like she might have had good reason.”

“Heather, I’ve grown up a good bit since then, but I still know what I want and I know that I want you. Despite what you might think, you’ve had my attention for a long time. If I wanted somebody that looks like an anorexic Victoria’s Secret model, they are a dime a dozen. I want someone with a heart, a soul, and a brain. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I find you sexy as hell. I always have since the first time I laid eyes on you in Jeff’s kitchen, when you threatened to decapitate me with his spatula if I messed up your grill marks.”

Heather is now propped up against a pile of pillows. As she processes my words, her death grip on the front of her corset relaxes and she allows it to fall open. 

“Heather, you call the shots here. Anytime you want me to stop, I will. But, keep in mind this is going to be out of both of our comfort zones.”

“See, I knew that my size was going to be a problem—” Heather interjects.

“Before you start jumping to conclusions, you may want to wait to hear the rest of what I was going to say.”

Heather blushes slightly as she mumbles, “By all means proceed, Cowboy. Although, I’m not even sure
you
can talk your way out of this one.”

“You might be surprised when you hear my answer. The reason this is so uncomfortable for me has nothing to do with how you look or what size jeans you wear. It has everything in the world to do with who you are. That’s because, for the first time since in a month of forevers, the outcome of this really matters to me.
You
matter to me. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since I’ve let anybody get close to me. Now that I’ve let you in, I don’t want to completely blow it.”

Stunned into silence for a moment, Heather blinks slowly as she lets out a breath. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you string together in the two years I’ve known you. I don’t really know what to say to that, other than just wow. You know me, I’m rarely at a loss for words.”

“I think we were doing just fine a minute ago without any words, don’t you?” I ask as I gently pull her hands away from the front of her corset. I bring her fingers to my lips and softly kiss her finger tips and then the back of her hand. When I pause to kiss the tender spot on her inner wrist, I can feel the galloping beat of her pulse. I suspect it matches mine. 

“Ty, not to criticize your technique or anything,” Heather gasps as I kiss the inside of her elbow, causing her to flinch and jerk it back reflexively. “But, I was having way more fun when you were covering other territory, if you know what I mean.”

Chuckling softly, I murmur, “Darlin’, that sounds kinda like a challenge to me, don’t you think?” 

Heather’s eyes dilate and widen as she mutely shakes her head.

“You know me…I can’t pass up an opportunity like that. I guess I’ll have to step up the pace.”

The sheer number of expressions that pass through Heather’s eyes in a matter of seconds is astonishing. I read curiosity, amusement and desire. I brush my hand down and move her corset away from her breast as I draw her nipple into my mouth and suck lightly. It tightens into a sweet bumpy bud, like a tasty raspberry. As I move to the other side and gently tease the side of her breast with my teeth before capturing the rosy nipple in a deep kiss, her hips grind helplessly into mine as if attached by a guide-wire.

I’m the first to admit I am an aficionado of women. I like everything about them. I like the way they look… the way they smell…the way they taste…the way they feel. Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to put all the puzzle pieces together to successfully be someone’s partner

Nothing in my past has prepared me for the connection I have with Heather. Maybe this time will be different. I struggle to stay in control as she moans softly. Suddenly, this is no longer about light-hearted flirting or teaching lessons about self-esteem—it’s so much more. I’ve been focused on her for so long, I’m hyper-aware of her reactions and I’m ready to combust.

Heather purrs a sigh of contentment as her eyes drift open. She tilts her head a bit as our eyes meet. “I thought you said we were both getting rewards, Cowboy. I see you handing them out, but I don’t see you getting many.”

“See, there’s where you’re wrong, Gidget. The look of pleasure on your face can’t be measured. It’s a reward all on its own.”

Heather’s luscious lips form a frown as she argues, “Maybe so, but I think you’re just trying to welch on your end of the deal.”

Damn. There are certainly disadvantages to dating a woman as bright as Heather. One of them is that she doesn’t miss a single, solitary thing.

I swallow hard as I quip, “I’m a good Southern gentleman and ladies always go first.”

Heather smiles coyly at me as she reaches up and slides her slim fingers under the collar of my shirt. “Well, I’m an even better friend than I am a lady, and friends
always
take turns,” she murmurs in a low sexy drawl.

As her cool fingers touch, hot, destructed scars, my vision dims around the edges as my mind drifts back to the chaotic days at Landstuhl Air Force Base. I can still remember the awful stench of burning flesh and antiseptic. Suddenly no one would look me in the eye and I couldn’t get any straight answers when I asked about my men. People were either eerily silent or irritatingly cheerful. Hours and hours of physical therapy and skin grafts have taken care of most of the external damage. I don’t know that there is enough medical care on the planet to erase the memories of holding my friend and colleague after he was blown to pieces.

I look down at my hands and notice they are shaking. I glance around the room in a frantic bid to find something to distract Heather from my discomfort. Yet, it’s clear from the expression on her face that it’s far too late for that tactic to work.

Heather gathers my hands between hers. “Tyler, look at me. I’ll be gentle I promise.”

With excruciating slowness, Heather unbuttons my shirt, brushing her lips across the spot her fingers just left. I shed my thermal undershirt earlier in the morning so there is no barrier between her warm lush lips and my suddenly overheating skin. I can feel every nerve ending as my pulse races like I’ve run sprints with all my gear on. I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to regain focus. 

Heather gently brushes her thumbs over my closed eyes as she gently massages the muscles in my face. “Relax Cowboy, I’m not going to hurt you. Pleasure is the name of the game, remember?”

Her low husky voice is almost enough to send me over the edge. We’ve been playing these flirting games for months. The anticipation is killing me, but I’m trying to do the “right” thing. But, between us, who the hell knows what that is. Nothing about our relationship has followed any rules. We’ve been dancing around each other for months like fencing opponents squaring off in a match before we ever went out, but I felt the chemistry way back then. So, this moment has been a long time coming.

Without warning, Heather captures my lips in a deep wet, hot kiss. I leave my eyes shut as I focus on the myriad of sensations flooding my body. She shifts to get a better angle and when she does, her ample breasts brush against my chest hair. She draws in a quick breath at the unexpected contact. The hiss compels me to open my eyes. The raw hunger in her eyes is startling and the sight of her lips swollen from our kisses is unbelievably sexy. Her breasts are nestled in my chest hair. It’s a stunningly erotic sight and yet another reminder of how well we fit together. 

Heather looks up at me through her thick lashes as she murmurs, "I guess there's something to be said for collecting rewards." She pushes me back on the bed and pushes my shirt over my shoulders briefly trapping my arms at my side. When she sees the labyrinth of scar tissue and surgical incisions she grimaces. The pity in her eyes is almost too much for me to take and I start to pull away.

Heather stops my movement with a heart stopping, scorching kiss directly on my ugliest, angriest most painful scar. With excruciating slowness, she kisses each and every scar on my torso, neck and face. I guess she has been paying more attention to me than I thought because she even kisses the one I keep hidden under my cowboy hat. Finally, I can wait no longer to see her reaction. I use my fingertip to tilt her chin so I can see her eyes. My eyes seek out the answers my words are afraid to ask.

In the two years I’ve known Tyler, I’ve seen many facets of him. I’ve seen him be gregarious and fun with Denny and Mindy, I’ve seen him be serious and businesslike with Jeff and Justice Gardner and I’ve seen him be furious and downright lethal with Kevin Buckhold and my parents. Until this very moment I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Tyler Colton be scared. The fear and pain in his eyes is enough to shatter my heart. This is Ty at his most raw. Tears gather on my lashes as I try to express in words what has been forming in my heart over the last few months. I kiss him gently on the lips and pull away as I say, “Don’t you realize that these are part of what makes you so beautiful to me? The fact that you are willing to lay your life down to save someone else’s make these imperfections meaningless to me.”

I feel a shudder go through Tyler’s body as he gathers me into a tight embrace. 

“What if all my so-called sacrifice just effed-up the lives of a bunch of innocent people and didn’t save anything? It’s not so noble then, right?”

I stare directly into Ty’s eyes as I counter, “And what if things would have been exponentially worse without you there? You couldn’t have known what was going to happen that day. You didn’t cause your men to be hurt, the terrorists did. The fact that you are willing to run toward danger when others run away speaks volumes about your character. You forget I’ve seen you in more than one dangerous situation. If I were a soldier, I would always want you in my foxhole or guarding my six as they say. In fact, I’m not a soldier and I still want you guarding my six.”

Despite the serious nature of our conversation, Tyler can’t resist acknowledging the mention of my backside, the corner of his mouth hitches up as he quips, “Gidg, it would be an honor to guard your buns any day of the week. Just tell me when and where.”

“Not so fast. It’s still my turn. Why don’t you let me watch you for a while?” Ty loosens his hold on me and I finish removing his shirt and follow the trail of the scars around his back. I can’t imagine how painful this injury must have been when it occurred. It looks like someone tried to peel off his skin. He groans when I kiss the jagged scar at the base of his spine. I reach around and unbutton his Levi’s. I really wish I had thought to bring my MP3 player because the absolute silence of the room is underscoring every move I make. I can hear my fingernails brush the individual buttons of his fly as I release them and the corresponding hiss of his breath. I can also hear my breathing increase as I respond to his reaction to my touch. I swear I can hear my heart beat and the sound of a simple swallow resonates in an echo through the room like a cannon. Suddenly, the tension in the room is broken as I realize he’s wearing adult sized under-roo’s. I can’t help myself as I laugh out loud. “Now, those are some sexy drawers, Tyler.”

He spins me around so I’m sitting in his lap. “What? You don’t like Daffy Duck?” he asks, as the tips of his ears turn red.

“I like him just fine, I just didn’t expect to find him on your underwear. In case no one has reminded you recently, you’re a grown up.”

“Says the person who has Jessica Rabbit pajamas and bunny slippers,” Tyler parries.

“Touché.” I respond, winking. “They’re just not the usual seduction-wear I encounter on dates.” 

Ty’s jaw tightens a bit as he asks, “Is this usual dating behavior for you?”

I stiffen as I answer, “I’m not sure I should have to answer that unless you do, but to answer your question, not recently. I’m a little more selective than I was in my younger days since I’ve been burned. I haven’t dated a whole bunch in my life since I don’t look like Madison and her friends. I’m more like the wing woman. But, I have been known to play a little backseat baseball to try to become popular. So, in college I did see a few pairs of men’s underwear and what goes into them. Not to be crass or anything but once you’ve seen a few guys’ junk, they’re pretty much interchangeable regardless of what all you guys think.”