Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(22)

For what I thought was more about Ty, I had invested an increasing amount of my own emotions into our love making. I ended up reaching my arms under his and holding onto the back of his shoulders. I kissed the soft skin of his chest as I rested my head there. Ty lifted my ass up and let it fall back down, his erection filling me and then leaving me, making me need more. My legs were wrapped around his back, where he liked them. He grabbed my long hair and pulled my head away from his chest, roughly kissing me on the mouth and biting my bottom lip as he pulled away. I grabbed his neck and applied pressure, staring him in the eye as I watched him become increasing aroused from my actions.

I dug one of my hands into his thick head of hair and gripped a chunk of it. He tried to bite me again, but I pulled away before he had the chance. It made me aroused to fight him, to play with him during sex. He squeezed my ass cheeks and dug his nails into my tender skin. I tightened my butt muscles and he groaned, feeling the change to the inner walls of my *. Our love/lust kept us fueled as our speed increased. Ty was at the brink and I was determined for us to come together.

I could feel him pumping his release inside of me. My head fell back and I cried out as the friction rubbed firmly on my clit. My body bucked and I could feel myself being taken over with pleasure.

We kissed slowly, holding our sweaty bodies in place.

Ty pulled away and looked at the bedside table. “Seventeen minutes, baby. Take that and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

I smacked his chest and started laughing. “We were only kiddin’ anyway, Mr. Sensitive.”

“That was mean. Now Colt has something else to one up me with.”

“Ty, you do realize that you are both in your thirties? It’s time to stop competing for who can do better at what. Clearly Colt doesn’t care like you do.”

“Baby, when it comes to my meat, I want to be the best. Trust me, Colt still competes with me. He just doesn’t have the balls to admit it.”

“Oh God, now you’re goin’ to compete with ball size?”

Ty shook his head and lifted me off of him. “My balls are perfect, and if he asks, that’s what you’re going to tell him.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll tell Colt, our cousin, that your balls are awesome. Is that good enough?”

He got under the covers after unlocking the door and slipping on a pair of boxers. “It will do. Now come over here and get back in my arms. It’s a miracle that the wonder twins aren’t at the door.”

I crawled in next to him and wrapped my arms around him. “Goodnight, Mr. Sensitive.”

“Goodnight, wife of the magnificent meat man.”

I closed my eyes and chose to remain speechless.



The next morning, I felt something dripping on my face and opened my eyes, sitting up suddenly. Jake was giggling and had ducked down to hide from me. He was too slow though. I grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him up to my eye level. “What are you doin’?” I whispered.

He shrugged and giggled more. “Nothin’.”

“Jake, don’t lie to me. Why is my head wet?”

“Jax told me to do it.”

I looked around the room and saw him standing over his father’s sleeping body. He had both hands behind his back and, from the look on his face, was up to something mischievous. “What’s behind your back?”

I heard something fall and splatter on the hardwood floor. He looked down and then back at me, shrugging like nothing had happened. “I don’t know.”

I looked at Ty and noticed that whatever they were dripping had left a creamy substance over his head. I reached over and touched it, smelled it, and then finally tasted it. “Seriously? Ya’ll put vanilla pudding on our heads?”

I rubbed my forehead, and sure enough, it was covered in drops of more pudding.

As my body sprung off the bed, I watched them running out of the room, leaving a mess on the other side. A half used pudding cup had fallen on the floor and splattered everywhere. Beside it was a straw, full of pudding. Apparently, they’d taken the pudding and sucked it up in the straw and then let it drip all over our heads as we slept.

Who does things like that?

My kids, that’s who.

Ty rolled over and saw me cleaning the mess off the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Your sons thought it would be cool to put puddin’ all over our faces while we slept.”

He wiped his face and realized it was all over him. “What the shit? Where are they?” He sat up and looked around the room.

“If they’re smart, they’re halfway to Colt’s by now.”

He stood up, yawned and then stretched. “I’ll handle it.”

“You better, because when I get a hold of them, their asses are goin’ to hurt so bad they won’t be able to sit for weeks.”

I was getting tired of their shenanigans. Why couldn’t they let us sleep in one day? Instead of being considerate, they spent every waking minute conjuring up plans to annoy the hell out of us. It drove me crazy.

I found them standing on chairs in the kitchen, washing dishes. With my hands on my hips, I took a deep breath and prepared to scream at them. For a second, I watched them cleaning, doing something that was nice for a change, and decided to wait until they were finished.

I sat on the couch, watching them. Once they finished, I sat them each in a chair. “I’m tryin’ to think of a good punishment for the two of you, but I think I have a better idea. I think I’m goin’ to let your uncle put you to work. Obviously, you don’t want to behave, so maybe a day of cleaning up horse crap will do you some good.”