Back home and with a Chicago CD on the stereo, Thomas showed her how to make real fried okra, not the batter-dipped restaurant fare. Flour, corn meal, salt and pepper, fried in a cast-iron skillet on the stove. Ditto the fried green tomatoes. He cooked the collards with a piece of ham, and the mystery package contained smoked mullet.
She wistfully smiled. “I haven’t had mullet since my dad died. He always brought it home Friday nights.”
“Aw, honey, I had a feeling you were a girl after my own heart. Can you believe Ty will suck down kippers, but he won’t touch smoked mullet?”
She scooped a small handful of fried okra from the bowl on the counter and munched. “Bet he doesn’t like this either, does he?”
“That, baby girl, is what I was raised on. Georgia popcorn, right there. He will rarely refuse anything placed before him, for politeness if nothing else, but it’s not worth cooking up a batch of something he won’t like.”
They ate once the cornbread was ready. She dipped out a bowlful of greens, then looked at the table, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t even think. You don’t have any vinegar, do you? For the greens?”
His grin spread ear to ear. He practically raced to the fridge and produced a small shaker bottle. “Wait’ll Tyler gets back. He’s outnumbered by Crackers!”
After dinner they cuddled on the couch to watch Silence of the Lambs, one of her favorite movies.
“I know it’s stupid,” she admitted, “but I always laugh when he’s telling her to put the lotion on.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Something about the way he says it, the rhyme. It always cracks me up.”
Thomas chuckled, hugging her. “You’re as warped as I am, sugar. You like Monty Python?”
“Who doesn’t?” She looked at him. “Oh, don’t tell me Tyler doesn’t?”
“Some of the movies he does, but he won’t watch the shows with me. Said he saw them growing up and that was enough.”
They laughed and talked late into the evening. When she curled up next to Thomas in his bed after a brief good night call to Tyler, she fell asleep quickly.
Thomas watched her sleep, listening to her slow and easy breathing. How crazy was it that she fit them so well? Truly the perfect woman. He had fun with Tyler and enjoyed being with him, but this was something new and different he didn’t have with his lover, something he’d never missed—until now.
What a nearly perfect day they’d had. He’d never forget the stunned joy on her face when Rollo handed her the keys. He’d do anything to keep her that happy, to keep her with them. He was under no illusions she needed Tyler the same way he needed Tyler, the three of them locked together in a fantastic triad, feeding off each other, shoring up weaknesses and complementing strengths—it was amazing. He knew she filled a need in Tyler he could not.
Perfect.
He hated using that word up till now, but no other word described what he felt.
If only they could convince her how right she was for them.
He closed his eyes and curled around Nevvie, dreaming of her.
Sunday morning she helped him in the yard and around the house. At noon he shooed her to take a shower. “We’re going riding, sugar. Dress appropriately.”
“Any hints?”
“Nope. It’s a surprise.”
The surprise was another shopping trip. They drove across the HowardFranklinBridge to St. Pete and he bought her a dressy pair of riding boots. Then further west to St. Pete Beach for an early dinner on the Gulf. They rode north along the barrier islands, eventually reaching Tarpon Springs before sunset.
They stood on a fishing pier and watched as the sun slipped below the water. He wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling when he felt her hands on his.
Resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered, “Did you have fun today?”
Nevvie leaned against him. “A lot. Thank you.”
He kissed the side of her neck and didn’t think he imagined she shivered. He’d have to remember she was sensitive there. “Baby girl, nothing’s too good for my biker mama.”
“We’re not going to make Tyler jealous, are we?”
He snorted in amusement. “Do you think he wants me calling him my ‘biker mama?’”
“No, I guess not.”
Nevvie felt another pang. Here she was enjoying herself with Thomas with poor Tyler out of town. Before this weekend she felt closer to Tyler. Now she could honestly say she was as close to Thomas, but in a different way.
Thomas again invited her to sleep in their bed. Only a moron would refuse that offer. As she closed her eyes and snuggled close beside him, she remembered how his lips felt when they brushed her neck, the smell of his leather bike jacket in the hot sun, his arms around her on the fishing pier as they watched the sunset…
His flesh felt hot, his legs pressed against hers, the entire length of his body hard and taut. Deep within her liquid heat churned and boiled, rising to the surface. Nevvie snuggled tighter with him and felt his cock stiffen, pressing tantalizingly along the cleft in her ass.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
She wiggled her hips, enticing, inviting. His hand slipped under her T-shirt, large fingers cupping first one breast, then the other, teasing her nipples into hard peaks. With his breath ragged in her ear she stretched into him, reaching behind her, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth against the nape of her neck. His lips brushing across her flesh ignited a fire deep inside her.
His hand skirted down her belly, slipping inside her sleeping shorts, her breath coming in rapid gasps.
Yes, please. Don’t stop. She was afraid to speak, to break the spell. He continued his agonizingly slow pace across her flesh, his hand coming to rest in the nest of short curls between her legs.
Yessss.
His fingers gently parted and probed her, slowly stroking her clit, his touch hot and achingly sexy.
As he pushed a thick finger inside her, his thumb stroked her swollen nub. She wasn’t far from release and a low, needy moan escaped her. When she climaxed she felt the fireworks start deep in her belly, exploding behind her eyes and she gasped, rolled over—
Alone in the bed. Sunlight streamed through the partially-closed vertical blinds.
Breathing heavy, she looked around, realized it was her own hand buried in her sex.
She closed her eyes as she heard Thomas in the kitchen, preparing their morning coffee. Oh thank God! He hadn’t seen anything.
Immediately upon the heels of her relief followed disappointment that it wasn’t her sweet love god’s hand bringing her pleasure.
She caught her breath and got out of bed. Damn, talk about a wet dream!
“Are you awake, sugar?” he called from the kitchen.
She hunted for and finally found her voice. “Yeah.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Good.” Well, the last few minutes were apparently fan-damn-tastic. If she had a choice between the nightmares and a dream like that, she’d take the wet dream every time.
Duh.
They rode the bike to work. Maggie spent the entire day with her, explaining things while Nevvie took copious notes. Nevvie started a slow cooker meal before they left. When they returned home a little after seven, Tyler was back and had prepared side dishes to go with it.
Nevvie slipped past the men while they hugged in the kitchen. A moment later she heard a soft tap on her bedroom door.
“Yes?”
One hypnotically blue eye peeked through. “May I come in, love?”
She looked away and nodded. Tyler stepped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.