Страница 67 из 68
Before I even finished, she tackled me on the bed.
I laughed beneath a deluge of hugs, kisses, and squeals. “Uh, does that mean ‘yes’?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Hell Freezes Over…Again
TRACE
____________________________
Society Scoop
By: Erica Davies, Senior Editor, The Dirty Dish
Hello, darlings, it’s great to be back at the helm, and I appreciate all your thoughtful cards and letters. My honeymoon was stellar! But then, how could a two-month cruise around the world with the sexiest man alive be anything but fab? J.T. sends his regards, and his new movie “Unthinkable” will be coming soon to a theater near you.
Now unless you’ve lived in a cave for the past two months, you must’ve heard all the sordid details surrounding the Lilith Bradford murder drama in Willow’s Corner, West Virginia. I won’t bore you with a recap. Besides, I’ve got a related story that will blow that rusty boat right out of the water.
Some time back, I a
But I digress….
Long story short, Montgomery and Bradford have called it quits. In the immortal words of B.B. King, “The Thrill Is Gone.” I got it straight from one of the horse’s mouths. Believe it or not, Sha
Since I was on my honeymoon, this story languished on my voice mail. But here’s the cherry on top. Young Miss Bradford is gaga for the Butcher Boy—as in head-over-heels.
Before you ask, yes, I did check the source. I called Bradford three days ago. Regretfully, an earlier column I ran about her was steeped in fiction. You remember the S&M and swinging? Well, that source was as genuine as a six-dollar bill.
In this case, not only did Bradford confirm the voice mail she left, she also gave me two juicy updates. When I asked why she decided to go public, in The Dirty Dish, no less, she simply replied, “I want the world to know how much I love him.”
Awwwww…..
Here’s another crouton to toss on your salad. Bradford and her Butcher Boy exchanged vows two months ago at someplace called Miller’s Pond in Willow’s Corner, and the pair honeymooned in Paris. They’re also expecting an autumn visit from the stork.
But that’s not all. Following his rousing success in the Kidd Ma
Now if this isn’t a sign that the apocalypse is upon us, I don’t know what is.
I rolled the tabloid into a fu
“Well?” Sha
“Interesting.”
“Interesting?”
I slanted a brow up. “Yep.”
She snatched the fu
I burst out laughing, grabbed the paper weapon, and hauled her into my lap. “You’re sexy as hell when you’re mad.”
“Interesting?” she yelled. “You call that interesting? Do you have any idea how hard I—”
I crushed my lips to hers, wishing I could crawl inside her mouth, she tasted that sweet. The battle of tongues went on for a good five minutes. While our kisses grew in intensity, so did the voice in my head, the one that warned if we didn’t stop, I’d have to take her hard and fast in the front seat of my Jeep. Again. We’d done it last week after I’d picked her up from her therapy session with Doc. She’d had a breakthrough and decided sex in a Jeep was a great way to celebrate. My back still hadn’t recovered.
I slowed the cadence of my kisses. Moved my mouth from hers, to her cheeks, her eyelids, while I slid my hand up and down her arm—my way of bringing her back to reality. Once our breathing turned sluggish, I rested my forehead against hers. I was holding the most beautiful woman in the world.
My bride. My wife, my dream come true.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Her angelic face lit up. “You liked it?”
“Nope. I loved it.”
She beamed a smile, but then her eyes began to well. Baby hormones. “How was I to know she was on her stupid honeymoon? Two months I waited.”
I chuckled. “Yes, but it was still a beautiful surprise.” I nudged my chin at the crumpled tabloid. “That right there’s the fourth best thing you ever gave me.”
She frowned. “The fourth?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s number three?”
I gri
“And number two?”
I flattened my hand on her belly. “This precious baby.”
Her eyes twinkled with delight. “And what’s number one?”
I tipped her chin up. “You, Mrs. Dawson.”
Then I slammed my mouth over hers and we went at it again. Seemed all we ever did was make love. Sha
“Hey,” I breathed. “Unless you plan on giving the neighbors another show, we’d best get in the house.”
She righted her clothes. “But we’ll be late.”
“Twenty minutes, tops.”
Cholly had sent Sha
Sha
“The kitchen. We haven’t done it in there yet. Come on.”
I dragged her out with me, but remembered the satchel with my calculus book in the back. After I slid the strap over my shoulder and slammed the door, I stood with Sha
I’d made a sizable down payment with the sale of Gary’s cracker box, hoping the move would distract Sha
Sha
Hot damn! I gri
“Woooooooo,” Sha
“What’s wrong with carrying my family over the threshold?”
“How many times are you going to do this?”
“Until you get too fat.” I made a face. “Damn, how many months are you?” She smacked the back of my head. “Ow!”
“Fat jokes. Pregnant woman. Bad idea.”
“I’ll file that away for future reference.” I tackled the porch, then set her down. “You happy, Mrs. Dawson?”
“Deliriously, Mr. Dawson.”
“That’s good to hear ‘cause I’ve got a little problem that needs your attention.”
I shoved the door open. Warm air scented with lemon floor polish wafted out as I slipped inside, tossing the satchel.
She strolled into my arms and cupped my cock. “Hmmm. That…problem is anything but little.”