Page 58 of Relief Pitcher

“Which one first?”

How was I supposed to choose? I was more overwhelmed than when I’d gone to a saltwater taffy store on the Oregon Coast and had to pick a bag of one flavor with over one hundred and fifty to choose from.

The peach panties with the three strings on each hip drew my attention. I worried that if I grabbed for them, I’d mess up his careful organization, so I pointed instead.

Ty pulled them from the drawer and undid his jeans. I didn’t take my eyes off him as he pulled them down his muscular hairy thighs. His snug, black boxer briefs immediately followed. While holding eye contact, he dragged the panties up each leg. The pouch cupped his soft bulge and the strings pulled taut across his bitable hips.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, ready to worship Ty in a leisurely way we hadn’t enjoyed since the weekend we’d met. It’d been quick blowjobs and hand jobs in our cars after practices or in bar restrooms after games.

Every day I fought the urge to ask him back to my place. Whenever he’d complain about awkward angles or wanting more space, I’d nearly blurt out an invitation to my bed. But my gut knew that would’ve been too much. I needed to let him lead because Ty had broken his rules to keep having sex with me, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. I was having a damn great time with him. Though I couldn’t shake the hope he was slowly warming up to more.

And if I were being honest with myself, the slowness of whatever was happening between us worked for me too. I was getting reacquainted with having feelings for someone new. Things like the persistent butterflies anytime you thought of them, wanting to hang out all the time, wondering what they were up to when you weren’t talking, hoping they were having a good day.

I was in no hurry. Ty’s pace worked for me as long as it meant I got time with him.

My attention was torn in two directions. A gorgeous, mostly naked man giving me naughty looks right in front of me competed with my desire to peek at Ty’s room. I wanted to know what he kept close to him in his small space, what his decor told me about him, whether he made his bed, and if he had one pillow or two. But there was no way in hell I would take my eyes off him. All that flesh on display, his confident smirk, those panties—system overload.

Ty slid his fingers into my hair and tugged my mouth toward his growing bulge. I wrapped my hands around the backs of his thighs for stability. As soon as I made contact with the lacy pouch between me and my prize, a door in the distance slammed hard enough to shake the wall.

“You home? I’ve got dirt for you.” I recognized Seth’s voice.

Ty’s thighs tensed under my fingers. “I’m about to become an only child. We don’t need help at the brewery that bad, and I’m sure my parents will forgive me eventually.” He tilted his face toward the ceiling and sighed. After a moment, he looked down at me and tenderly smoothed my hair. “I swear the shithead has a sixth sense for interrupting my fun. He pulled the same crap when we were kids.”

As soon as I stood, Ty apologized and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. It was the kind of kiss that promised another time. Not the kind that happened before pushing me toward the back door so his brother didn’t see me.

“What do you want me to do?”

Ty grinned and gave my ass a swift slap. “Let’s go hear the townie tea.”

While Ty quickly dressed, I glanced around his room. There were several framed photos of his friends and family on a small desk next to a laptop. A navy comforter covered his full-sized bed with two pillows on top. I smiled at the second pillow.

I followed him to the dining room, which flowed into the kitchen where Seth’s back was to us as he rummaged in the fridge.

“Mrs. Pullman filed a complaint to the city council again about the smell of the goats at the goat farm. The woman lives five miles from it! She’s on a crusade against those adorable creatures.”

Seth turned around with a brick of cheese and a bag of deli meat in his hands, and his mouth fell open when he spotted me. “Coop! Hi. Didn’t realize you were here.” He turned his wide eyes toward Ty.

“I invited him over to hang out after we had dinner with Mom and Dad.”

Did Ty realize what he was insinuating? It looked like we might need a defibrillator to restart Seth’s heart.

“The tree’s in bad shape, bro.”

Seth’s shoulders dropped. “Seriously?” He turned his puppy-dog eyes in my direction.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Seth. It’s been dying for a while, I imagine. Your parents want me to take it down.”

“That seriously sucks.”

Ty walked over, wrapped his arm around Seth’s shoulder, and kissed the side of his head. Then he grabbed the deli meat from Seth’s hand and pulled a slice from it before Seth could grab it back. I chuckled at their brotherly display. It reminded me of Aleck and Danita.

“Mrs. Pullman needs to pull the stick out of her ass and focus on the pile of trash rusting next to her garage,” Ty said.

Ty grabbed us beers, and we sat at the dining table while Seth made himself dinner and told us about the other small-town shenanigans he’d overheard at the brewery.

I was still nursing the same home-brewed Saison when the front door swung open a short while later.

“Honey, I’m home.”

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