Blyssful Lies (The Blyss Trilogy 2)

I quirk my eyebrow, “Is that right? When would be the appropriate time, sir?” I tease, rolling my eyes. There are two ways I can skin this cat. I glance down at his boxers; his morning wood is poking up, making a tent.

Keeping my eye on the prize, I say on a grin, “Hey, sweetie.” I proceed to place my fingertips at his belly button, and then begin walking a path along his happy trail while I sing with a light laugh, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. If Peter Piper picked …squeeee!” I squeal out loud, giggling as he stops my assault toward his pickle, capturing my hand as he rolls me over, forcing me on my back.

“Peter better not be picking any of my pickled peppers, or he will wind up with a black eye,” he teases as he moves his body over mine, straddling my hips with his legs. With hands on either side of my belly, he starts tickling me with his fingers as he growls, “And you better be picking only one pickled pepper…mine.”

I squeal out loud, twisting and turning, trying to break free, losing my breath against his merciless onslaught. My legs kick all about in protest, and my hands fly to his, trying to peel his fingers off of my sides, but he’s too strong. Between labored laughter, I screech, “Stop! I give up!” I can’t stand it, and I’m about to pee myself as he relentlessly tickles me. It’s too much; I scream and twist in my laughter. “Stop! You’re killin’ me!”

Thank God, he finally quits his assault. I’m breathing heavily, trying to catch my breath as he leans over me with a huge grin on his face. He gives me a quick peck on the forehead and taunts, “That’ll teach you to go picking on my pecker.”

I pout as I display my best puppy dog eyes. “I miss you, Travis.”

He playfully returns my pout and taps his forefinger on my nose. “Give me ten more minutes, and then I’m all yours.”

I arch my brow. “What’s in ten minutes?” I ask suspiciously.

He shakes his head and starts moving to get off me. “Uh-uh, you wait right here. I’ll be back in five.” When he makes it to the bedroom door, he spins around, eyes me down, and points his finger at me, demanding, “Don’t move.”

I lay back down, sinking into the mattress as I cross my arms over my chest with a harrumph.

One minute after he’s gone, I roll over to his side of the bed and wrap myself up in his smell under the fluffy comforter. Why does it feel more cozy and special on his side of the bed? A small grin spreads across my lips; I love this feeling of being cocooned in everything Travis. When another minute ticks by on the clock, I start getting antsy, so I get up and use the bathroom. When I’m done, I stroll to the bedroom window and peel back the curtains. Mmm, I love bright mornings. I close my eyes against the warm sunlight streaming in, inhale a deep breath, and smile. As I stare out the large picturesque window, I get lost in thought, but not for long, as Travis approaches me from behind.

“Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he wraps his strong, loving arms around my stomach from behind. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck, sending goose bumps racing down my arms. I melt into the warmth of his hard body. I’m so content here with him. Each day we are together, I grow more and more in love with this man. He hasn’t come right out and told me he loves me, but there are times I think he’s come close, wanting to say it, but something seems to hold him back.

I allow my arms to slip down to his hands and then thread my fingers through his. I relish his masculine scent, a unique pheromone that is distinctly Travis, which I can’t quite describe. All I know is it makes me grow wet every single time he’s near.

“I’m just thinking about how happy I am being here with you.” Then my lips turn down into a frown. I don’t know where our relationship is going. Hell, I don’t even know who I am.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently squeezing me, garnering my attention.

“Hmm?”

“I’m pretty sure I know where your mind just wandered to. Please don’t think about it.” He lets go of me, circling me around to face his front so he can cup my cheeks in the palm of his hands. His emerald eyes speak of earnest sincerity. “It doesn’t matter to me you don’t remember anything. Truth be told, Jules, what we have doesn’t happen every day, and I know you feel this bond that’s between us. This is more than just dating.”