Tyed to You (12 page)

“Your furniture is lovely,” he replied, trailing his lips down her neck. “The couch is quite comfortable.”

“The bathroom is down the hall,” she rasped, indicating her head to the left. “The bedroom is at the end.”

“Perhaps we could tour that room next?” he said, tracing his tongue along the edge of the bodice of her sundress.

“I think I could arrange that.” Ty’s tongue dipped into her cleavage as she spoke, and she rolled her hips against him.

He grabbed her ass, pressing her heat against his firm bulge, making her aware just how much he wanted her. “You don’t have dinner cooking yet, do you?”

“No.” She was certain that her panties were drenched.

“Good.” Holding onto her, he stood and she tightened her legs around his waist as he carried her down the hall, their mouths once again connected in a fierce battle. He broke away only to ask, “Bedroom’s at the end?”

She nodded.

He placed her on the bed, kicked off his shoes, and crawled up on the bed, stretching his body over hers. “Don’t ever leave me again.” His words were a rough whisper, as he stared down at her. “See this through.”

“I will,” she promised. She raised her head from the pillow to kiss him, using her hand to pull his head down to her, kissing him fiercely. He groaned and pressed his body against hers, his hardness rubbing against her where she wanted him most, but the kiss was brief as he wrenched away from her lips.

“I need you. Right now.” He rose up onto his knees and gathered her dress into his hands as she sat up to allow him to pull it over her head more easily. He tossed the dress aside and reached behind her, grasping her bra strap in his fingers, and, with an effortless twist of his fingers, unhooked it. The bra was tossed aside to land near her dress and the rest of their clothes quickly added to the pile. Jasmine lay back against the pillows and Ty pushed her knees apart with his hands. He stared at for a moment, causing her pussy to flood with even more moisture in her anticipation of his entry. What she needed now was for him to be inside her. Taking his length in hand, Tyson rubbed the head around in her juices, stroking the tip against her sensitive clit a few times.

“Oh God, please, Ty,” Jasmine mewed, her hips lifting to him anxiously.

Ty lowered his body over hers once again, engaging her in a kiss that was less tender and romantic, but more of that of a man who was claiming his woman once and for all. And with that kiss, he thrust into her, seating himself all the way within her before drawing back out and thrusting back into her again.

“Tell me you’re mine, Jasmine.”

“I’m yours, Tyson,” she breathed.

“Louder.” He thrust again, harder.

“I’m yours!”

His rhythm increased, rolling against her to create the perfect amount of friction on her clit with each thrust. He leant down and pulled her earlobe between his teeth, nibbling it before whispering in her ear. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Ty,” she moaned, opening even wider for him.

His mouth crashed onto hers as their movements increased in their passion and intensity. She felt the coiling in her belly and knew she was coming soon, and coming hard. Her nails dug into his skin as she arched her back, pulling her mouth away from his to cry out. “Oh fuck, Ty! God!”

He gripped her headboard for leverage and rammed into her. “Oh God, Jasmine, yes, that’s it, baby girl,” he groaned.

Jasmine’s walls flexed and spasmed around him before Ty pumped a few more times kissed her sweat-dampened forehead, and rested nearly his full weight on her, which felt wonderful to her. He kissed her lips briefly, then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered. “So, so fucking much. I need you to be mine, Jasmine. I can’t let you go, not now.”

Jasmine’s voice caught as her eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, Ty. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

He shushed her, planting kisses on her face and lips. “Tell you what—I’ll let you make it up to me by having sex with me again after dinner.”

She laughed, her vision a bit blurry with unshed tears. “It’s a deal.”

“Oh and there’s one more thing,” he continued, a mischievous grin on his face.

Jasmine was immediately on-guard. “What?”

“You should cook naked.”

“Tyson, that is dangerous and unsanitary.”

He sighed. “Fine, you can wear an apron.”

“Dinner is grilled chicken, sweetheart, which means going out on my back deck to use the grill. My yard may be fenced, but it doesn’t mean my neighbours can’t see over it.”

“Hmm, I see your point. Fine, clothes back on for cooking dinner, then once we’re done with that, it’s naked time.”

When they dressed and went out to grill the chicken, Jasmine giggled at his delight over her hot tub located off the deck in the backyard, complete with a privacy wall. And after a bottle of chardonnay shared over dinner, that was precisely where ‘naked time’ commenced.

Chapter Ten

Two Years Later

“Where the actual fuck is that waiter, I’m starving!” Laurel groused. “How long does it take to deep-fry some calamari?”

“Of course you are, Laurel. After all, it’s only been an hour since your last meal.” Jasmine laughed, taking a sip of her daiquiri. “And he only took our order”—she checked her watch—“seven minutes ago.”

“You know what? Fuck you. Just you wait ’til my brother knocks you up, and you’ll see how miserable it is to feel the need to eat constantly. As if I don’t look enough like a narwhal already.”

“Darling, you look nothing like a narwhal. You don’t have a horn,” Hank deadpanned, wincing when Laurel kicked him underneath the table.

“Eat shit, darling,” she suggested in a loving tone of voice.

Jasmine laughed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Oh, stop, you look beautiful.”

Laurel glowered at her. “I partially hold you responsible for this too, you know.” She gestured at her swollen abdomen.

Jasmine held her hands up in defence. “Hey, I had positively nothing to do with…that. I only helped with the proposal and my penance for such was more than paid during your Bridezilla phase.”

“Damn well you should’ve! The ink had barely been dry on our home purchase paperwork, and you and Hank began plotting against me. Putting my face on a kiss-cam during that basketball game, to be broadcast all over television no less!”

“You’d been in blissful cohabitation for three months, and Hank knew I had the proper connections to propose to you in a manner you couldn’t refuse, right Hank?”

Hank picked up his beer and tipped it Jasmine’s way with a wink before turning his attention to Laurel. “Your lovely, extremely photogenic face was priceless when you realised what was going on. That’s the only reason why they re-aired it on the five o’clock and ten o’clock news casts. And Jasmine, that was a nice touch with the cheerleaders and confetti. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that.”

Jasmine shrugged. “I saved the management of that arena a lot of money. They decided to extend me and my friends a little extra courtesy. And really, it helped them too by pumping up the crowd. Cheerleaders in the stands, confetti exploding when she said yes—thank God you said yes, Laurel—the atmosphere that night was amazing!”

“I was so gobsmacked over it all, I’m amazed my brain even functioned to form a coherent answer!”

Hank leaned over to kiss Laurel. “You came up with the appropriate response and that’s all that matters.”

“Beginning eight of the longest months of my life,” murmured Jasmine, sipping her daiquiri.

“What was that, Jassy?” Laurel asked suspiciously.

“I said it was one of the proudest moments of my life, getting to serve as your maid of honour. Have I told you how gorgeous you look today? You’re absolutely glowing.”

Laurel sniffed dismissively. “Had I known I’d be a beached whale for this trip, I’d have suggested Vermont for our couples’ vacation destination instead.”

About six months after the wedding, they’d all decided to take a vacation together. Two weeks after the purchase of plane tickets and a non-refundable down payment for a luxurious condo rental in Maui, Laurel had called Jasmine with the news she was pregnant.

Which was the reason why she was now seven months along, sitting in the outdoor dining area of a restaurant, looking longingly and resentfully at diners around them who were enjoying their food and cocktails with pretty umbrellas and large chunks of tropical fruit in them.

“Vermont? Oh really now, Laurel? Exactly what would we have done in Vermont? You’re certainly not exactly in the shape to ski right now. At least here you can enjoy the sun, the ocean, this beautiful island pa—”

“Easy for you to say! You get to look fabulous in your teeny, tiny bikinis, drink your fruity, delicious cocktails, and then come back to the condo to have all the sex you want, in whatever position you want,
wherever you want
,” Laurel huffed. Jasmine cringed as Laurel took a moment to scan the dining area, presumably for their server. “Did they have to go to sea to catch the goddamn squid? My child will be born and suckling at this rate! Kudos on that pantry manoeuvre, by the way—I’m glad it wasn’t me that had to walk in on that action this time, but I’m pretty sure Hank’s going to have that one haunting him for a while, won’t you, sweetie?” She paused and Jasmine turned her eyes from Laurel to Hank in time to see him shudder as he took a sip from his beer, not meeting Jasmine’s stare. “But really, Jassy!” Laurel continued. “You two have lived together for what, a year and a half now. How can two people be that insatiable after a year and a half of cohabitation?”

“Sorry about that, Hank. We tend to just…you know how it is when the mood strikes? And Laurel, if you recall, you two don’t answer your phones for as many as three days when Hank returns from his business trips. So don’t you give me a hard time. This is partially
your
fault, you know,” Jasmine finished with a smirk, throwing Laurel’s words back at her.

“It is, isn’t it?” Laurel agreed, suddenly looking pleased with herself. “Well then, you’re welcome.”

Jasmine looked at Hank incredulously at Laurel’s swift change in behaviour. Hank just shrugged, mouthing, “Hormones,” then glanced quickly at Laurel, as though to make sure she hadn’t caught. Jasmine stifled a giggle with another sip of her daiquiri.

Ty returned to the table after what had seemed like a lengthy trip to the restroom. Jasmine couldn’t help but notice the number of women who ogled him as he made his way to the table. In those tan linen slacks and his casual, short-sleeved, ivory button-down shirt that highlighted his gorgeous bronze skin, he was the very definition of sexy. The difference now was that she was confident that he belonged to her and only her.

“There was a line,” he explained, which piqued her curiosity.

“Really? I thought that was a phenomenon reserved solely for women’s restrooms.”

“Uh…yeah, I don’t know what to tell you. Have I missed anything?” He reached over the table almost absentmindedly to take Jasmine’s hand. She was a little suspicious at his odd behaviour, but at his touch she relaxed. Everything between them was so automatic, so natural.

“Laurel’s starving and is going to pounce on our waiter and threaten to shank him if he doesn’t immediately produce her calamari,” Hank supplied.

“Seriously, Hank? Are you really that intent on my kicking your ass to the couch tonight?”

Just then, their server appeared with their tray of appetisers they’d ordered and a stack of small plates. Laurel snorted at the dainty plate placed in front of her, shoved it aside, and pulled the platter of calamari closer to her. She grabbed her fork, eyeing the pile of deep fried scrumptiousness greedily. “No one else wanted any of this, right?” she asked, not bothering to wait for an answer as she dug in.

“No, that’s fine, puddin’, we’ll just share the sushi roll,” Hank deadpanned.

“Eh, with the way she’s wielding that fork, I’m not so sure. I don’t want to lose a limb,” Ty hedged.

“She can’t have the sushi or the raw oysters on the half-shell,” Jasmine said, reaching for the platter to serve some on to her own appetiser plate. “We’re safe with these, guys.”

“Feel free to piss off, you three,” Laurel suggested around a mouthful of calamari.

Jasmine chuckled then slurped down an oyster topped with a spicy sauce, looking up to catch Tyson grinning at her. “What?”

“Oh, you know what they say about oysters. I’m debating getting another order.”

“Positively not,” Hank chimed in.

Ty winced. “Yeah, sorry about that, mate.” The way his eyes twinkled as he looked back at Jasmine, then winked at her, told her he wasn’t the least bit sorry, and really, neither was she. She felt bad for Hank for walking in on them, but damn, that had been fun.

“Honestly, Hank, I thought you guys were gone for the afternoon. I see this half-naked stud in the pantry, and, well, my mouth just started to water. It was just supposed to be a blow job.”

Their server arrived just then to deliver their salads, announcing their entrees would be following shortly. Jasmine didn’t miss his odd parting look.

“What the hell is he looking at?” Ty growled.

Apparently Ty didn’t miss it either,
Jasmine thought. “The poor man just walked into a conversation about blow jobs. How is he supposed to react?”

Ty scowled. “By keeping his eyes to himself.”

“I get all that, Jasmine. But seriously, the pantry? That’s where our food goes. No more sexy time in the condo outside of your bedroom for this trip, okay?” Hank asked. “Ty? No offence, Jasmine, you’re beautiful, but I really don’t need to see anything like that again unless it’s on my computer or TV screen—OW!” He looked at Laurel, who apparently had just kicked him under the table. “What the fu—why’d you do that?” Jasmine found it adorable that he rarely swore at his aggravatingly hormonal wife.

“
You know why
,” Laurel seethed, her eyes brimming with tears.

Thankfully, their entrees arrived, providing a successful distraction for Laurel’s imminent crying jag.

“How does an ‘innocent’ blow job turn into a stunning feat of sixty-nine in a four-foot by five-foot room? Dare I ask?” Laurel inquired, suddenly placated by the pu-pu platter that had been placed in front of her.