Not My Type: Rhiannon Ch. 03
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for my husband… a real life Joe… just without the tractor…
I woke to the smell of bacon frying and for a brief moment, wondered if I were still dreaming. But when I turned my head my eyes fell on the large indent in the pillow next to mine. The earthy scent Joe carried everywhere lingered to greet me. I jolted at the memory of waking up in the middle of the night to the solid warmth of his body beside mine, the strangely comforting presence of his large hand on my hip.
A small part of me had wanted to wake him up, to take advantage of having a man in my bed again, to see how far he’d let me go, how much I could use him to rid myself of the constant craving I suffered from. I wanted to reach down and wrap my hand around his cock, to see if it was as thick, hard and warm as I remembered. I wanted to wake him slowly and hear him moan, catching the gasp of his surprise in my mouth as I leaned in to kiss him, feeling him grow more eager when he woke to realize what I wanted.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’d never shared a bed with a man and just slept with no expectation of sex. It felt a little weird. I didn’t know what to do with myself, what to think of it, how to relax, so I just laid there and waited for sleep to drag me off again.
And now he was cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs—my favourite. I shifted my weight and slid from beneath the sheets. My stomach lurched and clenched rebelliously. I gasped, my head swimming, as I bolted from the bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. I made it to the toilet just in time to say goodbye to the meager contents in my stomach.
I slumped onto the bathroom floor as the first wave of retching ebbed and I let fall the tears that always accompanied my being sick. I fucking hated this hollow, horrible, dizzy feeling. The ceramic tile felt cool against my body though, and the solid smoothness of the toilet gave me something to hold on to as my stomach heaved again and again.
His gentle hands stroking my hair and the soft, soothing rhythm of his voice made me cry all the harder. I didn’t deserve his kindness and knowing it only made it worse.
“Oh darlin’,” Joe murmured as he sunk to the bathroom floor beside me and gathered me up against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“W-what are you sorry for?” I hiccupped into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He chuckled. “For putting you here. For not being able to make it better.” He smoothed my long hair from my damp, clammy face and held it back before tipping my chin up with his free hand.
I tried to turn away. I was blotchy and pale and had just thrown up; this wasn’t my finest hour, but Joe’s hold remained firm.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. My stomach ached from its recent revolt and my throat burned, but I was sure I was done being sick for the moment.
“I-it’s not usually that bad,” I said weakly. “But the smell of bacon…”
Joe blanched. “I’m sorry Rhi, I just wanted to surprise you. I wanted you to eat something. I don’t think you’re getting enough to eat, you look so thin.”
I laughed. I’d never been described as thin before.
Joe’s eyes were a stunning, bright blue as he watched me. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but just let his gaze roam over my face. He studied me so intensely, I wanted to hide from him, afraid he could read my mind with those sapphire eyes. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
I snorted. “Don’t tease me Joe. I just puked in front of you.”
He released his hold on my hair, letting it tumble again around my shoulders before he ran his fingers as best he could through the tangled morning mess. “And you’re still beautiful. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. The first time I ever saw you I thought that. You were wearin’ a blue dress and you were laughing.” He shifted to his knees and reached over to pour a glass of water from the sink and offered it to me.
My eyebrows shot up, but I dutifully took the water and rinsed away the sick taste in my mouth, which made me feel better—slightly. Joe found my toothbrush and squirted some toothpaste on it before he handed it to me. I let him help me to my wobbly feet without argument and gratefully set myself to the task put in front of me. It was a few minutes before I spit, rinsed, and sat back down. The mint toothpaste had chased away the lingering sick flavour, but I still felt a little woozy.
“You remember what I was wearing?”
“A blue dress with little white flowers and your hair was up off your face. It was shorter then than it is now; I like it long, it suits you.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t even remember the first time I met Joe. He’d always been in the background whenever I visited the Tanner’s farm. He was as much as part of it as the rolling red soil fields, the tidy yellow house, and the endless crash of the sea against the base of the bluff.
Joe refilled my glass of water and then sat back down beside me on the floor with his knees up and his arms crossed over them. He wore kaçak iddaa just his t-shirt and boxers and in the bright light of the bathroom I noticed for the first time that even the hair on his arms and legs was red.
“I wanted you then, like I want you now, Rhi. I shouldn’t have, shouldn’t now, but I do.” He turned his head to look at me again and my breath caught in my throat. “That night at Lilly’s… I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that it was happening, that you might want me too, at least a little, at least a fraction of how much I wanted you.”
I was stunned speechless. All those years and he’d never let on. I never would have guessed.
“I’m sorry if I’ve come on a little too strong this week, if I’ve seemed demanding,” he murmured. “That night, I thought I had everything, and then just as quickly you were gone again. And I let you go, because I was scared if I didn’t, if I tried to hold on too hard, that you’d just disappear or that you’d hate me and I couldn’t stand to think of you hating me.”
Joe ran his hands through his hair before resting his palms against his forehead. “When you came out to the farm the other day I was shocked and angry. You were just standin’ there in the sunshine, so beautiful and so unchanged, just like you always looked… and I was so… different… after being with you. It killed me to think that I was just another notch on your bedpost. And I wanted to hurt you back. And then when you told me…” his voice caught roughly in his throat.
“It seemed like everything was so clear after you told me. You’d have to marry me, have to be with me, and we’d be a family together. We had to be.”
I leaned my head against Joe’s shoulder. He didn’t usually say so much all at once and his words echoed off the bathroom tiles, sounding as hollow as I felt even though I knew they weren’t. Fuck! I had the urge to cry again, but wasn’t sure there were any tears left. I’d cried more in the past two weeks than I had since I was seven.
“It’s not that easy though, Joe.”
“I know,” he whispered. He turned his chin and kissed the top of my head. The gesture made me smile, despite myself. He took my hand, and stroked the ring he’d put on my finger. “I can’t make you marry me, even though I’d like to. I want to do the right thing, Rhiannon. I thought the right thing was givin’ you my name, giving you a home where we could raise our baby, but I think the right thing is let you make your own decision.”
“And you’ll live with whatever I decide?” I asked in disbelief.
“I’ll try,” Joe admitted honestly.
I laughed a little. Until I’d gone head-to-head with Joe-fucking-Tanner, I didn’t think there was anyone more stubborn than me. Begrudgingly, I had to admire him for not backing down without a fight.
“No matter what I decide, I hope you’ll forgive me,” I said. “It was never my intention to hurt you or to put you in this position.”
“I know.”
I turned and rested my chin against Joe’s arm so I could look up at him. “It’s hard for me to admit this, but I’m scared Joe. Not just of having a baby, but of everything that goes with it… I–I’m not going to be a very good mother, and that terrifies me.”
Joe opened his mouth to argue, but wisely thought better of it when I waved his words off.
“I don’t know what it’s like to have a family Joe, like you do. To have brothers and sisters and parents who love you. When I was seven my Mum just up and left me alone with my Dad and he was never around much. I was on my own, always on my own. And Dad was forever telling me how much I reminded him of her. What if I’m just like her, Joe? What if I can’t deal with having a family? What if I just leave someday and never come back? I can’t put you in that position, can’t put our child in that position. I don’t want to. I’m scared to.”
“If you don’t want to, you won’t” Joe said slowly.
“But how do you know that?” I cried. I pulled my knees up against my chest. “What if I can’t handle it?”
“Oh darlin’,” Joe laughed his deep, dry chuckle. “Do you really think that you couldn’t lean on me? That I’d just let you go that easily?”
My chin wobbled as I tried not to cry. I already looked like hell; crying wasn’t going to improve that.
Joe’s hands ran up my bare calves. His skin was work-hardened and calloused and somehow the rough texture of them made me shiver. “You’re too hard on yourself Rhi, and anyway you’re puttin’ the cart before the horse. I’m sure you’ll be a great mother.”
Joe wasn’t going to kiss me, although I knew he wanted to. My legs were cold from sitting on the bathroom tile but his hands felt warm. I suddenly, desperately wanted him to touch more of me. I feared he wouldn’t so there was only one thing to do: I kissed him.
He didn’t hesitate, not like the first time I kissed him. This time Joe battled back with enthusiasm; the heat of his mouth was incredible, more than I remembered. So many thoughts and urges crowded in on me that I didn’t know kaçak bahis if I could handle them all at once. I wanted it all, wanted more than anything for him to make me forget myself, just for a while, like he had that night at Lilly’s.
Every brush of Joe’s lips against my own, every delving thrust of his tongue undid me. He coaxed a hunger out of me I didn’t know I possessed, one mirroring his own for me. I felt torn in two. I wanted terribly to pin him down, to pull his wonderful, hard cock from his boxers and impale myself on him. I craved taking what I wanted with frantic greed. I longed to quell this insistent, almost-ever-present itch crawling over my skin, making me feel like I was constantly on the edge of arousal. The other half of me wanted to draw the experience out, to make it last as long as possible. My hands traveled a constant circuit over his neck and shoulders and arms. I wanted to learn all of Joe’s hidden secrets. My ears strained to hear the sounds he made in my mouth when my fingers danced over a particularly sensitive spot .
Joe held me close; his hands were unmoving against my calves, but they flexed from time to time, betraying just how hard it was for him to keep them still. His unconscious show of weakness fed me. Every moan, every shiver he gave up I devoured with a greed which surprised even me. If it surprised Joe he hid it well. He cooperated with me and my yearning as if it were perfectly normal to be making out on the bathroom floor with the woman he’d gotten pregnant two months earlier during a one-night-stand.
“Easy!” he gasped, as my restless fingers met the button fly barrier keeping his boxers closed. I felt his immense heat, his generous size under the thin, soft cotton. His excitement created a small wet spot on the fabric.
My growl of impatience was low and almost feral in my throat. Joe’s eyes darkened as he let his own need show on his face. His hungry expression must have matched mine, yet it took me by surprise. Our harsh breathing ricocheted off of the tiled walls in my small bathroom.
“Let me take you to bed,” Joe said in a low raspy voice. “Let me do this right.”
I nodded. I half-expected there to be a voice in the back of my head screaming “no”, reminding me what a mistake I was making, what folly it was about to give in, to lead him on and make him see hope where there mightn’t be any. But all of those arguments magically melted away. Joe pulled me to my feet and lead me to the bedroom.
We’d barely made it through the door when his hands roamed the length of me. His frantic urgency broke forth from him so unexpectedly, it made my head spin. My gasps filled my ears as he wrapped his arms around me and hauled me up against him before he leaned down to take my mouth. While one hand flew up to hold my head and keep me from backing away from his intensity, the other crept down to knead my ass through my nightshirt.
There wasn’t anything to do but hold on; my fingers dug into the solid thickness of his biceps. Joe hissed a little as my nails sunk into his arms just below the hem of his t-shirt sleeves, but he didn’t stop his deep exploration. If anything, his mouth grew more fervent.
How anyone could look as wholesome and normal as Joe and kiss this way? A jealous ex-girlfriend of some man or another once been accused me of ‘keeping all my goods in the shop window.’ Maybe it was true. I’d never hidden who I was and what I wanted from men. I never felt the need to apologize for liking the way it felt when a man kissed me, touched me, filled me. But Joe? Joe surprised me. I’d never guessed it, never expected so much passion to exist underneath his calm, stoic demeanour just by looking at him.
His hand crept up beneath the bottom edge of my nightshirt to cup my bare ass. The heat of skin against skin made us both moan. The rigid length of his cock trapped between us and just the memories of how incredible the last time had been made me impatient. Still in his arms, I took a few steps backwards, knowing the bed was close by.
“You have the most amazing ass,” Joe moaned as the kiss ended and we both came up for air. My lungs ached but I didn’t want to stop kissing him.
He swallowed my skeptical laugh. “It’s big,” I muttered against his lips. He scowled and bit my bottom lip gently.
“It’s amazing,” Joe countered, giving it another squeeze, this time with both hands.
“If you say so.” I shrugged in his embrace. We both laughed this time.
“How come I can’t win all the arguments that easily?” he teased. We took another step backwards; the back of my legs hit the mattress. Unbalanced, I swayed a little, but Joe didn’t let me fall.
“I can’t change the size of my ass,” I admitted with a giggle. “I’ve tried—countless hours on the elliptical machine at the gym and still nothing—so why argue about something you can’t change?”
Joe leaned his forehead against mine and just stared at me, his blue eyes wide, his smile knowing. His kisses and the possessive illegal bahis clutch of his large hands on my ass put my brain in a delicious fog. It took a moment for my thought process to catch up with my mouth.
“Ooooh,” I whispered. “Oh. Fuck.”
“You said it, not me,” Joe laughed huskily.
Joe’s hands moved up my spine, taking my nightshirt with them. I shivered as he exposed more of my skin to the cool air. Joe laughed again. The mattress pressed against the back of my knees; all I wanted was to fall backwards and take him with me so I could burrow under the weight of him and hide from everything.
“I want you so badly,” Joe murmured. His broad hands splayed across my back and kept me pinned against him. “I’ve never wanted any woman the way I want you, Rhiannon.”
Why was it so easy to believe him? Just something about the steadiness of his gaze and the gentle curve of his lips made me honestly think that Joe-fucking-Tanner never lied. How desperately I wanted to believe that. To believe he really did want me, not just in bed, but as his wife. I wanted to believe he really wanted to take care of me and give me a home, a family. No man had ever wanted to do that for me before, had ever wanted more than a good time from me. I closed my eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths.
“Are you okay?” Joe asked quietly. “We don’t have to do this.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. Trust Joe to still be concerned about me, even with his very big, very hard, erection pressed against me. I wanted to open my mouth and say something flirty and glib, but I didn’t trust myself not to blurt out something much more sincere. So I reached down between us instead and ran my fingers gently over his cock. He twitched and chuckled.
“Do you always take exactly what you want, Rhi?”
I opened my eyes to see the teasing glint in his. “Yes, but then so do you.”
Joe grinned. “Yeah, I guess there’s some truth to that.”
I held up my left hand and flashed his engagement ring at him. “You’re tellin’ me.”
Joe leaned forward and kissed me softly. “Come on now, I don’t have you…yet.”
“Cocky,” I giggled. “And stubborn. What makes you think that you’ll get me?”
He released his hold on me and gave me a gentle push. I fell backwards on to the bed, laughing.
Joe knelt between my legs and spread them slowly. I stopped breathing and waited for him to move, all the while hoping like hell he didn’t make me wait too long.
The brush of his fingers against my wetness was tender but even just the light graze against my clit made me moan out loud.
“Jesus, Joe… please,” I pleaded. Every nerve in my body felt strung tight, coiled for release. My fingers flexed against the cool sheets beneath me. I couldn’t breathe.
“What makes me think that I’ll get you?” Joe echoed, his voice husky. He skimmed his fingers across me again, chuckling as my spine arched off the mattress. My groan rang in my ears. “Because you make that noise for me,” he whispered, and then he leaned down and found my clit with his mouth. Joe suckled gently. I came hard.
I opened my eyes as Joe moved on top of me, bracing himself on his strong arms while he looked down at me. His breathing was almost as rapid as my own. I felt the heat and hardness of his cock pressed against the wet pool between my legs. I wiggled against him impatiently. His hiss of pleasure made me grin.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Joe gasped as I ground against him even harder.
“You won’t,” I promised. I wrapped my legs around him, frantic for the feel of him inside of me. “Please Joe.”
He moved at the same time as I moved. It happened so quickly, the satisfying slide of flesh into flesh, the heat and heaviness of him within me. We both groaned as Joe bottomed out. He stopped moving and dropped his head down to kiss me. We both moaned in unison as my muscles flexed around his considerable girth and.
The heat of him was incredible and when he pulled back slowly, every inch of his cock hit every nerve I had. This was a slow, delicious torture and I loved it. He was different from every other man I’d ever fucked; he barely had to move to make me know it.
My mind wandered even as Joe’s kisses traveled down to the secret spot behind my ear. What made Joe feel different? It wasn’t just the unhurried, deliberate tempo of his thrusts, or the way he knew instinctively where to kiss me, how to touch me. It was like when we were in bed together there weren’t any secrets between us, no barriers to separate us.
Barriers. Holy Fuck. “Jesus, Joe,” I cried out, panicked. I tried pushing at him, clawing at him to get him to move. “Stop!”
“What? What?” Joe froze, his own frightened expression mirrored my own. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes,” I tried writhing out from underneath him so I could reach for the bedside table. “It’s just that we forgot the condom.” I felt colossally stupid. I never forgot the condom, except that somehow Joe made me forget a lot.
He leaned his forehead against my own and laughed. He was still buried inside of me, and his deep chuckle made his cock jump. My muscles clenched automatically around him, making us both gasp.
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