Brothers South of the Mason Dixon

by Abbi Glines

  The boxes sat in the middle of the small area and I saw a large S written on the front. I had no idea what she decided not to give to charity. I was almost afraid to look inside. But I had to face it. Whatever she kept I needed to decide if I was going to keep. Not with Bray here watching me. I’d have to find time alone.

  Bray walked back in with another box and sat it down. Then the duffle on his arm he dropped on the table that was built into the left wall of the camper.

  “The rest can wait,” he said his voice low.

  I opened my mouth to ask him what his plans were, but his hands clasped my waist and he pulled me close to him. Not hard. Not rough. But with more gentleness than I expected from him. Much like his kisses tonight.

  Bray’s eyes held something I wasn’t familiar with. I couldn’t look away from them. They made my insides feel soft and squishy. The urge to curl up against Bray and cling to him was overwhelming.

  He backed up and sat down on the small couch behind us bringing me with him. As if he read my thoughts he pulled me into his lap and held me. Had I said it aloud? I hoped not . . . but then again, he was doing exactly what I wanted. And it was amazing. With Bray, any touching in the past led to sex. I’d never felt like he wasn’t working toward getting my panties off. Not that he’d ever had to try very hard. At this moment, the sexual tension had been replaced with something else, but just as powerful.

  His hand came up and cupped the side of my head and pressed it to his chest. I sighed as I rested there. Listening to his heartbeat. Content. Safe. It was as if the demons in my head couldn’t get me here. All I wanted to think about was how good he felt, how much I liked to hear the sound of him breathing, and how much power he had to crush me.

  “Scarlet,” he said quietly, his mouth so close to my ear that I felt the warmth of his breath.

  “Hmm?” I asked, unable to form words as I shivered from the chills the sensation of him holding me and saying my name gave me.

  “I love you.”

  Three words. Three simple words. Hearing Bray Sutton say them I knew . . . I knew that wasn’t possible. I’d feared this was a dream. One of the many I had escaped into in my life. Many times, they were stronger than others. It was as if my psyche knew when I needed to escape reality and held me in my dream longer.

  This was one of those dreams. I’d wanted to believe it was real but the dream had ruined it all by having Bray say words that were impossible. Tears stung my eyes and then sobs started causing my chest to shake. I’d wake up now. Crying alone in my bed.

  Bray’s arms wrapped tighter around me and the tears came harder. The gasping for air as I waited for this to be ripped away from me. My life thrown back in my face. As much as I relied on these dreams to give me happiness, when they were over it was hard to let go.

  I reached up and grabbed his arms and held on tight. As if the dream couldn’t take me away from him if I had a hold of him. His muscles flexed under my touch and his hand brushed my cheek. The sobbing only got worse. How would I make it through after having experienced this? How unfair. My subconscious wasn’t thinking about how this would ruin what headway I had made living alone.

  “Scarlet,” Bray’s voice startled me. He was still here. I wasn’t awake yet. Before the dream was over I straightened in his lap, grabbed his face, and pressed my mouth to his. Desperate to taste him. If I had to wake up alone, at least I’d have the lingering memory of Bray on my lips.

  He didn’t open his mouth right away but with the tip of my tongue I traced his lower lip and with a groan his mouth opened. The salt from my tear-streaked face mixed with the mint and soda on his breath. Moving over him, I straddled his lap and ran my hands into his hair hungry to touch as much of him as I could before it ended.

  The reluctance wasn’t like Bray, and although a noticed it I couldn’t seem to slow down long enough to figure out what was wrong. I didn’t trust my brain. If I stopped, I would open my eyes and this would end.

  Bray’s erection pressed through his jeans. I rubbed against it wishing I had thought to get naked in this dream and not still be wearing my stinky work clothes. My shorts weren’t long but they had enough fabric to keep my sensitive area blocked from the connection it was aching for.

  “Scarlet,” his voice was strained as he pulled back from my attack on his mouth.

  I fought to lock my mouth on his again biting his bottom lip as he groaned again lifting his hips to rub his erection against me. I moaned with pleasure and began rocking against him.

  A growl came from his chest, and then his mouth was gone and so was he. I stared at him panting for breath as he held me by my waist at arm’s length. This wasn’t how I wanted this dream to go.

  “Jesus,” he said, staring at me as his chest rose and fell fast and hard.

  “Don’t stop,” I said struggling to get to him again.

  “Scarlet, wait, no, just wait.” He sounded pained. That caught my attention. There had been the pain in his eyes earlier. Why was I dreaming Bray was hurting or sad? That didn’t fit.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  “Scarlet.” Bray’s hand touched my cheek. “Baby, are you okay?”

  Slowly I opened my eyes and he was there.

  “I don’t know. I’m not waking up,” I told him.

  He frowned. “Waking up?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. I can’t get awake. While I’m sleeping I want you inside me. You’ll be gone when I wake up.”

  His eyes widened, then he moved and knelt down in front of me. His gaze holding me as if he’d never leave. “Why do you think you’re asleep?”

  That was simple. “You said you loved me. You only say that when I’m dreaming.”

  Bray

  BEING IMPALED BY a fucking wooden stake in the chest would have been less of a blow.

  I stayed there, in front of her innocent, broken, tear-streaked face as she looked panicked. Her attempt to wildly fuck me on this couch had been hard to turn down, but knowing something was off had been the strength I needed to stop everything.

  I’d told her I loved her, she’d burst into hysterical tears, then went after me like if I wasn’t inside her soon she’d explode. If I didn’t know the monsters in her past, the nightmares she still battled I may have not stopped her. How many times had I taken her wild reactions to our sex as a turn on and used it for my pleasure?

  God, I was a bastard.

  “Scarlet,” I said gently taking her hands in one of mine, then brushing a stray tear from her chin. “You are very much awake. And I am in love with you. I have been for a while but was scared to accept it. Trust this. Trust me, even though I don’t deserve it. Give me a chance to prove that I will do everything I can to love you. Protect you. Make you happy. To erase all the shit I’ve done in the past.”

  She didn’t speak. Her eyes never leaving mine. Her pupils were dilated. Lashes wet and eyes red. She was the most beautiful thing in my world. Inside and out. She taught me what it was to be tough. To be brave. To fight to live. Things I thought I’d known but I had no fucking clue. Until Scarlet.

  “How?” she finally whispered. I could see she didn’t believe me. She wanted to but the fear to do it held her back.

  “How do I love you?” I asked for clarification.

  She nodded, and that stake in my chest twisted. Love wasn’t something she knew how to receive easily. And I had run from it and been given it my entire fucking life.

  “I was broken. I didn’t believe I could love, when in reality I didn’t love myself.” I took her right hand and pressed it to my cheek. “You loved me. Even when I couldn’t love myself.”

  She reached up with her other hand and touched my other cheek.

  “You’ve taught me a lot, Scarlet. What real bravery is, what determination is, how to be strong, but more than anything, you’ve taught me to love.”

  Tears filled her eyes again. I moved to sit beside her and gather her in my arms again. This time her tears weren’t so violent and her ha
nds weren’t grasping at me as if I were about to vanish. Instead, her hands fisted in my shirt and she sank into me.

  I didn’t know what she was thinking about. Was her past and the hurt and destruction she’d endured haunting her? Had she learned to block it out? Or was this her giving in to relief. That she wasn’t alone. She had me. I’d love her. I’d protect her. I’d hold her.

  “I love you,” she said, tilting her head back to look at me.

  She’d screamed those words in the throes of an orgasm more than once. And although what she was loving was how I made her feel, I knew when it changed. I knew when she did love me. I had felt it, seen it. I was fucking terrified, but I wanted to hold onto her and how she made me feel, and how her love made me feel.

  I bent my head and kissed her lips. Trailing my bottom lip over hers as I held her gaze. I would be satisfied holding her like this all night. But I’d be lying to myself if I said that loving her body the way I should have before wasn’t making my hands itch to explore her. With my lips, I touched her jawline then her ear before gently caressing her neck.

  An almost silent gasp escaped her mouth and I took that as an invitation to take more. No . . . I would give more. Show her how it felt to be loved. To be given pleasure without pain. Without harsh words but sweetness only.

  Sliding my hand under her shirt I covered her right breast then tugged it free from her bra so I could give her nipple attention while I nibbled and licked her collarbone. Her soft skin was salty from fallen tears and sweat. Scarlet arched her back and pressed her breast into my hand with an excited cry.

  I wasn’t hurrying this. No matter how badly she wanted me to. I pulled the other cup down and the lacy fabric let her left breast pop free. I ran my palm back and forth over both of them while moving my mouth back up to hers and tasting her. She always reminded me of honey. I savored the sweetness and her little cries against my mouth.

  After enjoying how she scratched my arms and wiggled in my lap, I took my hand and slid it down her stomach tracing her belly button with my fingertip, then unbuttoned her shorts so that I could continue my journey. The warmth that met my fingers the moment they slid inside her panties caused me to groan. She moved against my hand impatiently and I smiled as I kissed my way down to her cleavage.

  With a careful, drawn out touch I gave the gentlest attention to her swollen clit. The begging began with her head thrown back and her neck exposed to me. I took a bite of the tender skin and she grabbed a handful of my hair. “Bray.” My name was a raspy sound from her lips.

  I studied those lips, swollen from my extra attention. I eased my hand out of her panties. That made her eyes fly open all dazed and glassy while her hand grabbed my wrist.

  “No!” she cried.

  I slid my arms under her and stood up. “I’m making love to you, Scarlet. But not on this tiny excuse for a couch.”

  I carried her to the bedroom, sure my dick had never been this damn hard. Scarlet didn’t say anything at first. Not until I laid her down on the bed and began stripping my shirt off.

  Her mouth finally opened and she said, “I smell like fried food.”

  Laughing at this moment wasn’t exactly romantic but damn if I could help it. The sudden realization had her looking mortified. I knew if I didn’t act quickly this moment would be gone.

  I jerked my jeans off and covered her quickly. “Lucky for you, I love the smell of fried food.”

  She shook her head. “Not on a woman,” she ended it with a gasp because my teeth pulled one of her nipples into my mouth.

  “Not a woman,” I agreed. “This woman. It’s an aphrodisiac. I swear. You let me get these bottoms off and I’ll show you how hungry it makes me.”

  She inhaled sharply, then slowly lifted her hips. I took the invitation with a smug grin and discarded her shorts and panties. She leaned up and pulled her shirt off, tossing it to the side of the bed.

  The bed touched all four walls of the room. There was no floor for anything to fall to except at the entrance where I had stood when I’d undressed. I liked the idea of being closed in a room with a big bed and a naked Scarlet. I may never leave.

  I wrapped my fingers around her ankles and pulled her legs over my shoulders, then began to show her exactly how much I liked her scent. Hearing her cry my name while begging me not to stop was even sweeter.

  Scarlet

  RINGING. THERE WAS a ringing. Far off. I stood in the middle of a desert and turned in circles looking for the sound. It wasn’t until I began to panic because I couldn’t find the noise that I realized I was alone in the desert.

  It finally hit me. I was dreaming. Then I began to fall backwards into nothingness.

  My eyes snapped open, my arms flew out hitting the bed on either side of me in an attempt to catch myself . . . and the ringing continued. The sun was so bright coming through the blinds I had to squint. I don’t remember it being that bright in my bedroom before. My covers were tossed aside and when I looked down at my body, I realized I was naked. A light sheen of sweat covered me. Why was it so hot? I slept with the windows cracked for the breeze. And why was the sun so bright?

  The ringing started again. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned. My body felt as if it had taken that fall I’d been dreaming about. The tenderness between my legs . . .

  Bray.

  I sat up in bed and began looking around. My phone was still ringing so I jumped off the end of the bed and ran the four steps to the table in the kitchen to grab it.

  “Hello,” I said, then promptly yawned again.

  “Thank the Lord you’re alive!” Ethel’s voice rang loudly in my ear.

  Ethel? Why was Ethel calling me so early? Why wouldn’t I be alive?

  “What?” I asked then began looking around and found I had to squint from the sunlight in here. Why was it so freaking bright?

  “I’ve called you since six thirty this morning when it was clear you weren’t gonna be here in time for opening. You weren’t answering and I was about to get in my car and come see if something terrible had happened.”

  My head jerked up and I looked at the tiny clock that was on the built-in stove.

  It was 8:25. Oh my God!

  “Ethel, I am so sorry. I forgot to set my alarm last night and—” I began to scan the small trailer for any sign of Bray. Walking over to the window I saw his truck was gone. But his duffel was open on the couch. He’d left it here. That small token of a promise he wasn’t gone for good gave me enough relief that I could think straight enough to talk to Ethel.

  “And you were busy loving on that young man last night. I’m a woman. I know these things. You’ve never been late before. Ain’t like you’re a slacker.”

  “But Ethel, I let you down! I will be there in ten I swear. Let me get dressed and—”

  “You come walking in these doors today and I’ll fire you. Stay home. Rest. Lord knows you need it after your day and night. We got things handled here. Just needed to know it was all-night lovemaking that had you not showing up.”

  I covered my face with my free hand. This was so embarrassing. They could all hear her. Knowing Ethel, she was talking loudly right there in the dining room. She’d announce to them all I am alive but exhausted from sex. I groaned

  Ethel chuckled. “See you in the morning, girl,” she said, then the call ended and I was alone, confused, and naked standing in my trailer.

  It wasn’t like Bray to run off without a reason. Or to let me sleep when I had a job to get to. I walked over to his bag and peeked inside. It looked like he had taken out an outfit from the way things were tossed around. His clothes from last night were beside the bag.

  I ran my fingers over one of his tee shirts. It was soft and black. I’d seen him wear this one before. We had been at Jack’s and I’d run my hand over his back secretly. He’d smelled like a cigar that Jack had given him and told him he better hide to smoke it. I liked the scent on him. Many nights, I had laid awake thinking about how it would feel to have one of his shirts to wear
. I could cuddle with it and pretend he was with me. I wondered if it would have made me feel safer.

  Reaching into the bag I pulled the shirt out, then smiled as I tugged it over my head. The fabric hit me mid-thigh and hung off one of my shoulders. It smelled of fabric softener and Bray. Wrapping my arms around my stomach I smiled content. No, it was more than that. I was happy. Bray made me happy. He always had. But last night, he hadn’t used sex as a tool to control me. To take from me. He’d been giving and slow. I had felt special and wanted. Cherished. Important. All things that were foreign to me.

  He wanted me to trust him. He loved me. Hearing him say all that had been too good to be true. Things like this didn’t happen to me. I was cursed. I had to be. It made me fear how long this would last . . .

  What happens when I have my first night of uncontrollable screaming then weeping stuck in a dream from the past? A memory that won’t let me go. Would it scare him away? Or when I went inside myself because something triggered a memory and I couldn’t make it stop. I’d have to fight to keep it from making me look like a psycho. Dixie called them my “zoning out spells” and thought it was just me being ditsy. I let her think that. But would Bray believe that excuse?

  Shaking all those thoughts aside I went to straighten his clothes when my hands touched the corner of a pink book. Why would Bray be carrying a pink book hidden in his clothing? How odd. He wasn’t a pink kind of guy. Slipping my fingers between the shirts and jeans I pulled the book out.

  Before I even turned it over in my hands, I knew. I recognized it. Maybe my fingers had touched it so many times the diary was like a memory for them. One they couldn’t forget. My hands began to tremble. My throat closed-up tightly. It was as if the diary had a hand and it was wrapped around my throat squeezing it. My saliva thickened making it even more difficult to swallow.

  Why did he have this? I’d hidden it long ago. Thinking if I could get these memories away from me I could forget. Yet the idea of throwing it away or burning it had seemed impossible. Because it had happened. As much as I wanted to forget. The things that happened couldn’t be wiped away from destroying the entries in a diary. It was proof. That I hadn’t lied. That I wasn’t crazy. In the end, I’d decided to hide it. Bray had no business with this. My grip tightened on the diary and I battled with betrayal. It felt as if he’d forced himself into my darkest memories uninvited. Bile burned as it climbed my throat. These were mine. No one should have seen this. Especially Bray.