With my hands on his shoulders, he lowers me to the blanket and everything instantly burns with desire. My neck arches as his kisses trail down my throat.
“Brody.” I moan his name and he lazily lifts his hooded eyes to mine.
“I love it when you say my name.”
My heart pounds at the word love. He’s said it twice tonight. I don’t know if he’s aware, but I am. Every detail of him, every word he says, every feeling that overwhelms me when I’m in his presence, it all brands itself into my memory.
He grabs my hand when I reach for his shirt, desperate to pull it off of him.
He tsks and says, “Not yet,” then brings my knuckles to his lips. Kissing them one by one before telling me, “I want to take my time with you.”
A sweet, desperate need lifts up my hips as I writhe under him. I’m met with a rough chuckle before his hand slips up my skirt, and then he cups me where I need him most.
He pauses for a moment, contemplating saying something. The hesitation is clearly written in his eyes.
“What?” I question, worried I’ve done something wrong or that last night has ruined the ease that was between us.
“Has Robert ever fucked you here?” he asks me, as his hand brushes against my ass.
A small gasp exposes my shock and I shake my head after slamming my lips shut.
“Good,” is all he says and before I can question further, he moves and jostles my thoughts with his forceful touch.
His fingers press against my core and he rocks his wrist, sending pleasure to ebb and flow against my throbbing clit. My blood turns to a raging fire I can’t evade.
Small moans slip past my parted lips and just as they escape me, I attempt to escape the pleasure that threatens to overwhelm me. Brody’s large frame lowers, caging me in and holding me still beneath him. He nips the lobe of my ear and groans as his erection presses into my side, never letting up his ministrations.
Writhing under him, the pleasure builds and I bite down on my lower lip to stifle my moans. His fingers slip past the thin fabric that separates us and then dips into my heat. He’s not gentle in the least, firmly stroking the most tender places, the rough pad of his thumb still rubbing ruthlessly at my swollen nub.
He captures my lips as I cry out his name and my orgasm crashes through me. Every inch of my skin tingles with a heat that’s all too forbidden.
While I’m still falling and catching my breath, Brody undresses both of us. The gentle touch of his fingers caressing my sensitized skin prolongs the sensation. His hands are hot against me, his lips constantly kissing as he goes. I’m hardly aware that I’m nearly naked until the sound of my zipper fills the room. As he drags my skirt down my body, he licks from my navel downward.
My nails dig into his shoulders as he sucks my clit and then presses his tongue against it. My shoulders lift involuntarily as I cry out his name again, sucking in air before falling back down to the blanket.
It’s all too much as another wave of pleasure builds, this one stronger and more intimidating. He’s relentless with his touch as he finger fucks me, dragging out the threat of another orgasm and I find myself begging him please, although I’m not sure for what.
To fuck me. To bring the impending orgasm to an end. My head is dizzy with lust and all I know is that I need him inside of me.
He lifts his head between my thighs to question, “Please, what?” The sight of him, licking my arousal from his lips, his masculine shoulders towering over me as he lifts himself to box me in … I’m overwhelmed by my attraction to him. So much so, everything seems to slow, to blur around him. The air bends to his will.
All I can say in response is an appeal. “Please, Brody.”
Resting his forearms beside my head, he brings his lips to my ear at the same time that he presses himself against me, teasing my entrance. I wrap my legs around his hips, my heels digging into his ass as he whispers, “I wanted to take my time, but you make me a selfish man.” With that, he slams himself inside me, all the way to the hilt, stealing the air from my lungs as he stretches and fills me.
My eyes are closed, my nails digging into his shoulders from the intense and sudden sting. The mixture of pain and pleasure taking me that much higher.
His groan of satisfaction is addictive as his warm breath tickles my neck. His blunt nails dig into my hips as he holds me in place. “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to,” he warns me, whispering just beneath the shell of my ear and kissing me there, in that tender spot.
I hardly register what he’s said before he slams into me again, and again. Forcefully taking me, all the while I can’t breathe.
He fucks me like he wants to ruin me, and it’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.
With every thrust, he fucks me harder, pistoning his hips ruthlessly until he finds his release at the same time that I find mine.
I’m breathless and trembling when he’s done with me. My legs shake as he pulls out and the chill of the air replaces his warmth. He’s quick to kiss me and I’m quicker to reach up, grabbing his stubbled chin and holding him there so I can kiss him deeper, praying that my kiss tells him everything I’m too afraid to say.
He takes his time, using the blanket to clean me up and then dresses himself. I’m slow to do the same.
“So what do we do from here?” Brody asks me once the moment is gone and pulls me into his lap. My hair is far from salvageable and all I can hope is that I don’t look exactly like I feel: well fucked.
I nearly ask with what, then I remember everything else. The paternity test … me telling Robert and then Bridget. I have no idea … I wish I could give him the perfect answer. Instead my hand covers my eyes and I say, “If you’re looking for answers from me, I can’t give them to you. I barely have my own shit together.”
“Did you just cuss?” he questions me with a devilish grin that’s nothing short of handsome and a delighted tone. The heat in my cheeks rises higher from bashfulness as I hide my own smile. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you cuss.”
The tension eases, the nerves settle. It’s so easy with him. How can it be this easy with a man who’s lived his life without me in it? It still hurts to breathe, it still feels like I’m on the edge of falling and once the wind rushes beyond me, there’s no going back.
He asks, “Will you at least let me kiss you?”
Closing my eyes, I lean forward and whisper against his lips, “I can do that.”
Magnolia
The ping of my phone on the coffee table is barely heard over the sound of some cartoon playing on the TV in the background. Not that Bridget is watching it; she’s having tea with Kitty. I should turn it off, but my mind has been elsewhere.
The delicate chime may as well be a fire truck siren since that’s where my attention has been. Waiting for a text back from Robert.
Anxiety is my constant companion as I make my way from the kitchen to the living room. I plant my bottom down with disappointment onto the sofa as I read a text from my boss, a cup of coffee in one hand and my phone in the other.
I’ve never called out of work until this past month. This is the second time, but Mandy doesn’t pry. Maybe she’s too hungover, or maybe she knows I’m going through some things. I’m not certain, but I am grateful. Grabbing the remote, I turn off the TV and find myself staring back down at my phone like it’s betrayed me.
I texted Robert that I want to talk to him. He saw the message, but didn’t respond.
My heart knows that he knows, and it hurts. I won’t pretend that it doesn’t.
I don’t want to be caught in the middle. I don’t want to use either of them. I can list a million things I don’t want, but the one thing I want isn’t possible.
I want everyone to be loved and happy. Robert deserves that and it kills me that I can’t provide it for him, when he’s done that for me in my darkest times.
I’ve never considered it to be a possibility to be in love with two men at once. Or the idea of them at
the very least. Maybe one is simply a best friend I can’t live without, and the other a lover my heart recognizes as a necessity. That’s the only explanation I have for why this aches like it does. I’m caught in limbo, conflicted and the dark hole I fell into years ago is trying to swallow me back up.
“Is that him?” Renee asks from where she’s seated cross-legged on the floor, a plastic pink teacup in one hand.
“No,” I answer while tossing both the phone and the remote back onto the coffee table. “I feel awful and stupid and like I can’t do anything right.”
Renee cuts in, “It’s called dumb for dick … It’s a real thing.” She mouths the word “dick” and as if on cue, Bridget peeks up at her although Renee smiles innocently back.
A huff of a laugh turns genuine at my lips and it’s the first laugh I’ve had today.
Ping. The semblance of a smile is quickly erased as I check the notification on my phone. My stomach drops and I freeze with my phone in my hand.
“You okay?” Renee doesn’t hide her concern. “You just went pale all of a sudden.”
The email is sitting right there and it’s only a click away. Before I can answer her that the paternity test results are in, there’s a knock at the door.
With my nerves plucking away at my rational side, I ask Renee, “Can you answer it?” My fingers hover over the inbox of my email. They’re numb and refuse to press the button.
Every fear I’ve had ramps up, but they’re all silenced by the sound of a familiar voice asking, “Is she here?”
I peek up to find Renee opening the door wider, her sorrowful expression seen before Robert steps inside.
“Bridge, do you want to build a playpen for Kitty in your room?” I ask my daughter, my heart racing. My hand trembles as I set the phone down, but other than that, I’m all smiles as I talk to Bridget. Renee helps me convince her to head to her bedroom.
“Thank you,” I tell her and then stare back at Robert, who’s a pitiful sight. Before I can say a word, my eyes fill with tears.
“Mags, please, don’t.” Standing there, whispering his plea, a man I know to be strong and capable drops to his knees. With both of his hands raised, his glossy eyes meet mine and he professes, “I love you.”
With my hand over my mouth, I stifle back all my agony and make my way to him until I’m on the floor as well, my knees digging into the carpet and my hands over his. I can barely stand to look him in the eyes. His strong arms wrap around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. He does the same as he rocks me and kisses the crook of my neck. “I love you,” he repeats. “I promised I’d love you forever.”
Sobs wrack through me as my nails dig into his flannel shirt. “I think you wanted me to say more and I wish I had. I’m sorry.” He barely gets out the words, but somehow he makes them sound strong. Pulling back, with both of his hands on my shoulders his pale blue eyes seek mine so he can tell me, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you every night.
“I will make it all right. I will change. I will …” he trails off, taking a moment with his eyes closed before opening them to peer back at me. “I didn’t know what to do.” He grieves our past in atonement. All the while he wipes under my eyes, rather than his own.
I confess, “I didn’t know either.”
That’s the crux of our love. Life was brutal and we barely weathered it. Just kids moving through life with no guide, only leaning on each other in ways maybe we shouldn’t have. At least we can say we did it with love. It left a tangled mess, but my heart knows it’s true.
“I love you,” I tell him, and sit back with my legs folded underneath me. There’s hope in his eyes, until I finish and a piece of my heart begs me not to, but I have to. “But it’s not fair to you, Robert.”
“Don’t,” he begs me and I lay my heart bare.
“You were my first love—”
“Please, Mags.” His head falls but I keep going.
“I love you, I always will, but it’s a different kind of love. It’s ours and no one can replace it, but it’s not the same.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, he respects the distance I put between us, inching back, but our hands are still entwined. His strong hands are now wrapped around mine. Even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t let his hands go. I grip them back just as much as he holds me.
“I know it’s late to say it now. But if I could go back, I would change everything, Mags. I wish I could just go back.” Swallowing thickly, he waits for me to say something, but I can’t. Every word I know, every plea, every reason, every memory threatens to suffocate me if I dare speak. All I can do is shake my head, knowing how much I love Brody, how much loving him scares me, but how very real it is.
“Please, Mags …” His baby blue eyes are the epitome of sadness as he whispers, “I’m begging you.”
A shuddered sob leaves me and all I can tell him is that I’m sorry. Steadying my breath, I lower our hands until he releases them and I cup his stubbled jaw, knowing it will be the last time. I don’t dare kiss him. Even though he leans into my hand, closing his eyes. He takes it in his own and kisses the palm of my hand.
“I’ll always love you,” he whispers like it’s a promise, and hot tears escape down my cheeks.
Licking the taste of salt from my lips, I selfishly try to lighten the moment with a whispered question. “Couldn’t you make it easy on me and tell me you hate me?”
“I could never hate you, Mags.” He gathers himself, seeming to take into account the fact that we’re a mess on the floor. Pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes, he takes in a heavy breath. “I have to go,” he says as he rises, but I stay where I am, merely watching him.
“I love you,” he tells me again and I know he does.
I can’t help but give him the truth back. “I love you too.”
I watch him leave and the moment the door closes with a soft click, my body crumples forward and mournful sobs leave me. I’m still in that position when Renee comes out, asking me if I’m okay and I tell her the truth, I’m not.
I loved him. I still love him. I’ll always love him.
But I love Brody more.
Magnolia
Everything in my life might be falling apart, but getting the results of the paternity test was supposed to make it a bit simpler. Not a thing feels easy about it after what I just went through. My eyes still burn and doubt fuels my anxiousness.
I’ve never been so thankful for Renee.
“I’m sorry you have to take care of this mess,” I say, gesturing down the front of my pajamas for emphasis. My hair’s still wet from the hot shower I just took.
Passing me two Advils, she orders me to take them to ward off the headache that comes from crying your eyes out.
“You’d do the same for me,” is all she says and she’s right. I would.
“You know you need to just open the email and get it over with, right? I think things will feel better once you do.” She refers to the paternity test again.
Nothing feels easy or simple as I nestle into the couch with my throw blanket, along with the knowledge that the results are burning a hole in my phone.
Renee has been with me every step of the way so far. And clicking on this email will change my life, one way or another. More importantly, it will change Bridget’s life. Deep breaths. I’m a good mama, and I have the best friends anyone could ask for.
With a dry throat I remind myself that’s all that matters. This one email won’t take that away. It may change things with Robert or Brody, but things have already changed.
Every time I consider ripping the bandage off, I can’t get Robert’s sorrowful gaze out of my head. He looked so devastated, coming here. I wanted to do better for him and take away his pain, and I couldn’t do it.
Leaning my head back against the couch, I listen to the breeze blowing outside the window. The floor creaks as Renee steps away from Bridget’s room before pausing in the hallway after putting the bottle back in the bathroom. My heartbeat is so loud.
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Renee’s footsteps approach the living room and I open my eyes, parting my lips to tell her it’s time to open the email. She interjects before I can say anything. “Convinced her to go down for a nap. You owe me one.” I pat the couch next to me and Renee takes the spot I’ve offered. A crease forms in her brow. It’s a change from how she seemed when she got up to get Bridget, but maybe she’s just feeling the awkwardness from when Robert arrived. “I have to tell you something. It’s something about Robert,” she says with a long exhale.
At that moment, my finger slips. I don’t mean to click the email, I just do. It opens, and the results are there on the screen.
“Robert is the father,” Renee tells me with unexpected confidence. Her eyes are closed as if she’s preparing to confess some sordid secret.
“What?” The word slips from me, my gaze moving from her to the phone.
I read the email twice in a row as the sound of her voice fades into the background. A numb sensation takes over my body, washing over me from head to toe. This moment has been a long time coming. My mind can’t take it in, though.
Based on testing results obtained from the DNA analysis, the probability of paternity is 99.9999997%.
“He took the test years ago, when Bridget was born.” Renee’s shaky voice cuts through my thoughts. Confusion comes along with her words. How could anyone have taken any test before? She’s my daughter. “No.” I utter the word softly, and Renee’s expression sobers as she tells me, “I heard it from someone at the center. You know how people talk.
“It was too scandalous to keep to herself,” she says then rolls her eyes and doesn’t keep the distaste from her tone. As she carries on, I can’t take my eyes off the phone and the words on the screen.
“He had the test done when she was born and he came that week, carrying all sorts of things for her. I was sure he was going to tell you, that he was going to step up and do the right thing.”
Autumn Night Whiskey (Tequila Rose Book 2) Page 12