Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off (24 page)

"What?” Her eyes rounded. He always let her lead them through these games, but they were always silly and centered around her except the doctor venture the first time.

"You heard me. You ate those apples you stole, now...” He pulled the boxers she had bought him to wear, rather than walk around nude during her salon days, over his hips. “Now, you will repay your debt."

"But I wanted to..."

"You want to repay your debt.” He tunneled his hands through her curly brown hair, luxuriating in the silky strands. He began to understand why she liked to lead these games. It was empowering, almost intoxicating. His dick had leapt to attention the moment she seated herself on her knees before him. Pulling her closer to it, he noticed her pouting lip. She wanted to make all the decisions like always. “Not this time, sweetheart. You wanted a master. Now, be a good slave and open up."

Her lips parted in shock more than obedience, but they parted nonetheless.

"Now, be a good girl and repay me.” Holding her hair back, Jack watched his wife, the woman who had made him play many subservient roles, to include bath boy, finally submit to him. Her pouting lips parted, and her bubblegum pink tongue licked him from root to tip. It had been weeks since he received this treatment, but he had generously given it to her almost daily. “Deeper."

She obeyed, and his blood pulsed in tandem throughout every vein in his body. His muscles clenched, and his chest heaved. Bethany used both hands and her lips to drive him right to the brink in a hurry. “Stop!"

"What?” She jumped and looked toward the bedroom door. “Did you hear someone?"

"Get up here. Sit on me quick.” He pulled at her shoulders. He was ready to explode, and he wanted to be inside her when it happened.

"But...” She slowly stood.

"Bethany, please!” He tugged the panties down her legs and lifted the skirt. She still wore skirts more than anything else. A benefit at a time like this.

"But I haven't come yet.” She pouted as she climbed on top of him.

"Have I ever let you down?” He shook his head. Selfish little witch. She normally had three before he got one. Obviously, he was spoiling her.

"No.” She sighed as she sank down onto his erection. It took little more to get her moving in a sweet rhythm. He debated letting her wait it out until the last minute. He knew exactly how to touch her to get her off quick, but she knew the same little tricks about him, and she was testing his word right now.

"You little...” Jack reached between them and stroked her clit just right. She slowed down and worked for her own orgasm now, not his. “See. Be nice."

"Yes. Nice, ohhh so nice.” Bethany gripped his back harder. Her head fell to his shoulder, and she began to moan and kiss his neck. “Mmm, Jack, soo nice. Right there, oh right there, don't stop ... Oh God, don't stop, yes!"

Her inner walls gripped him and fought each lift of her hips dragging her back down onto his shaft. When the pulsations began milking him, he relaxed and let his own orgasm go. At least she didn't demand he fuck her this time. The change was so startling sometimes he wondered if she had a split personality. Bedroom Bethany versus Bethany Johnson, business minded woman with manners and charm to spare.

She relaxed completely, her nose nuzzling his neck. “One more?"

"You're an addict.” He squeezed his little sex kitten.

"No, I'm not,” she said around a yawn. “It helps me sleep, breaks tension, and relieves stress."

He chuckled. “So, I'm nothing more than a sleep aid?"

"Jack.” She sounded sleepy already. “You're amazing. How can a girl get enough when you can always pull out more?"

"Well, I'm not pulling out more tonight, sweetheart. I'm spent.” He gently patted her butt. “Now, let's get a shower and get to bed."

"When I lead, I at least get three.” She pouted as she dismounted and started into the bathroom.

"And when you lead, I am left tortured for at least an hour before I get any.” Spoiled brat.

"You spoil me.” She admitted it. Ha! He felt validated. He had spoiled her. “And no one has ever spoiled me before. You give me everything I've ever wanted in the bedroom and out. Forgive me for taking so much."

In his mind, a stream of curses flashed by. Guilt hit him like a box of rocks. He never wanted to let her down, and she did deserve to be spoiled. He just wanted a little of the same. Hell, before Bethany he was the one getting all the attention. Now, she was the center of his world. As the shower started, he remembered the shower head. Reaching up to remove it, he pulled her in tight against him. He had no idea how this worked. It was a fluke the first time, and maybe he would get lucky again, if not, he would just have to do it the old fashioned way.

"Tell me when it gets there."

Jack directed the spray at her, circled each of her nipples with the water spray, then trailed it down her abdomen. When the water hit her clit in rapid pulsing fashion, she leaned back onto his supporting body and moaned. “There."

"Mmm. Look at you, sweetheart, already knocking on that door.” Jack wrapped an arm around her for support. So, maybe she was an addict. Maybe she needed a little release now and then or daily. What difference did it make? She was making up for lost time, and he was always willing to play games with her.

She hadn't realized it was such torture for him to hold back. She thought of him more like superman than an average man. He could do anything, leap buildings in a single bound and give multiple orgasms in a single session. What more could a girl ask for? Nothing, she decided as the pulsing wave crashed over her body. “Mmmm."

"That's it. I love the face you make.” He cooed in her ear, adding to the sensation. She pushed the water away and slumped against him. He replaced the shower head and hugged her tightly.

"Thanks.” The warmth and security of his arms was undeniable. She would crawl under his skin and live there if it were possible to be that close to him.

"Let's wash up and get to bed, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss on her temple and released her. Instantly, she felt the loss of his warmth along her back and craved it again. The sooner they got out of the shower, the sooner she could crawl onto his chest and listen to his heart as she drifted off to sleep.

"I understand you have the keys, but you will still need Paul's signature to get into the boxes.” Angela Triplett was what the woman's name badge said. They all stood there like one big family in the bank manager's office. “I'm sorry, but as you can see here, the form says so."

"Hogwash!” Bethany accepted the form and looked it over. Unfortunately, it was a notarized document, legal and binding. The paper simply said,
No one can open the boxes until Paul signs the papers. Angie.

Grandpa Johnson didn't plan to make things easy on them.

"Well?” Jack asked.

"I'm sorry, honey. She's telling the truth.” Bethany watched as their faces all dropped. This was her fault and what she had feared. She should have brought the keys herself and found this out.

"She just called him, honey,” Rafe whispered to Heath but not low enough.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's go get Paul.” Jack rolled his eyes at his brothers and held out a hand toward her. “Wait here, we'll be right back."

Heath made himself imposingly comfortable by sitting on the leather couch in the bank manager's office. Jan took a seat on Buck's lap after he sat in one large chair. Rafe took the seat next to them.

"Got anything to drink?” She heard Heath ask as they left.

"Your brother is a real piece of work, you know?” she asked Jack as they walked down the sidewalk toward the lawyer's office.

"Heath's always been a little ... self-centered, I guess.” Jack smiled down at her. His fingers squeezed hers slightly, and it was as if he hugged her entire body with a simple touch. She felt herself sigh.

"I'm glad you're not like them. Heath drives me nuts with his big male presence. Rafe is like having a real girlfriend around to talk to, but if you ever tell him, I will kill you.” He laughed, and she smiled. “But you, Jack Johnson, are perfect. You're a little too macho, but you like to listen and let me do silly things like give you a pedicure."

"Shh. Someone could here you,” he said and looked around as if at any moment someone would appear. At ten a.m., the town seemed more like a ghost town than anything else. Everyone was at work. Only a few people were milling about the streets, and Bethany had no doubts they were going to or coming from work themselves.

"This is his office?” She looked at the old building and the weathered sign hanging on the door. It didn't even say his name, just the word attorney.

"Yep.” Jack pushed open the door. “Mr. Reubens?” Jack called, and she heard what sounded like a cabinet door close in another room.

The office was an old house actually. The living room they were standing in had a desk and a big leather chair behind it. Bookshelves lined the walls with tons of books. A few file cabinets were set off to one side, and two office chairs sat in front of the desk. Jack continued through the living room/office and into what she now realized was a kitchen. The house was shotgun style. The next room had to be the bedroom. Good grief! Did he live here?

"Hey there, just making some coffee.” Paul stirred in his sweetener. “You need me to sign something, I presume?"

"Yes, sir.” Jack nodded. He didn't seem the least offended this old man had kept them running in circles for the last five years.

"Why didn't you just tell them?” Bethany didn't feel the same. The whole reason Jack had married her was for money, and he could have had it all along. She was torn between the relief he didn't know and, now that she was there with him, the fact someone had pulled one over on the man she now loved and his family causing them years of struggle.

"In these parts, a man makes a promise to a friend, he keeps it.” Paul shrugged, took a long swig of the coffee, and set the cup in the sink. “You ready to get your money now?"

"No.” Jack shocked them both. “I'm ready to see what my grandfather left in the boxes. It cannot just be money. We don't really need it so much anymore. We have all read the will now, Mr. Reuben. We understand why you didn't say anything. You should not have had to. He was our grandfather. He was there after our dad died, and we learned to love the ranch from him, but we were strong, stubborn little children, and we had to do it our way. Now, we know our way was not the family way, and until it became the family way, the ranch would not succeed."

"Yes, Jack, you are finally ready to get the gifts he left you.” Paul smiled, and his eyes watered. He started toward the door, and they followed him. “Your grandpa was one of my best friends. When I needed a job, I worked on the ranch. When I got my license, I offered him my services as payment for keeping me alive all those years. I had a wife and two kids to support. Your grandparents always had a place at the table for us. My wife worked alongside your granny in the kitchen. The blueberry pie she made, it's Gloria's recipe. I'd give anything for a slice of blueberry pie now."

"Mr. Reuben, what was the ranch like in its hay day?” Jack asked, and Bethany realized whatever the old man said next would impact their marketing strategy in a major way.

"A family place, a place for anyone and everyone. Most of the people who worked there needed to be there. It gave them a place to live, food to eat, and a paycheck. Half this town came up from the ranches. The guests, well, they were more like family, too. They were taught not only how to ride a horse or be led down a trail, but also they learned how to saddle them, how to clean them. They did almost as much work as we did, but it's what they were there for. To live like cowboys, me n’ your daddy would take the men off for two day trail rides, camp out under the stars, give them back their manhood and fellowship, where the corporate world was stripping it away."

Jack opened the door to the bank, allowing Paul and Bethany to pass through ahead of him. She could see the wheels turning in his mind and knew there would be a family meeting tonight if he could arrange it. They entered the office where everyone still waited. The woman looked relieved, and Bethany looked over to Heath, who had a drink, a doughnut, and a napkin, and knew why. He had been aggravating her since they left. Jan was practically sleeping in Buck's lap. It seemed odd for some reason. Rafe was reading a magazine. Angie smiled and stood. She looked at Heath, shook her head, and then focused on Paul.

"Paul, I hope you are here to sign papers. I swear I'm ready to give Heath his box just to get him out of here.” She looked at Heath and frowned.

"What did I do?” he asked innocently.

"I owe Travis breakfast now I borrowed his doughnuts.” She placed her hands on her generous hips and shook her head.

"What?” Heath asked. “She could have said she didn't have anything to eat here."

"She did.” Rafe nodded without looking away from the article.

"Paul.” The woman prompted, “Please, sign here."

Paul laughed and stepped up to the big mahogany desk. He signed the papers as the woman headed toward the door. “Come on, kids."

"Kids?” Heath made a harrumph as he got up.

They followed her into a room behind a locked door. It looked like they walked into the part of the post office with all the boxes in it, but they were bank boxes instead. “You got your keys?"

"Yes, ma'am.” They all answered.

"Well, look at the number on the tag and have at it.” She stepped back next to Paul Reuben and waited.

Bethany stood next to Jack and held her breath. Everyone was waiting for him to do something. No one had made a move. “Shouldn't Heath go first?"

"No, little brother, Bethany found it, you go first.” Heath sounded serious and affectionate, unlike he had ever sounded before.

"Go on, honey,” she prompted. Jack looked down at her, smiled, then pulled the key out of his pocket. His boots echoed on the tile floor as he approached the box. It was as though time had slowed down and held them all suspended. Each little bump on the key could be heard as it slid into box 459. The clean air and sterile conditions of the room made it seem almost surreal.