She'd simply endured the physical side of him and his need for closeness.
When they were dating, he'd been young enough to be hopeful that her feelings would change if he gave her enough time, space and empathy. Especially when she had briefly referred to her year alone in the camp after her father had gone to America, and her mother had died from one of the viruses, which ran rife through her camp. While she'd alluded to things, she never came right out and talked about what she'd gone through. Claiming it was, 'no worse than others,' when he had questioned her about it. But she had never gone into detail. She'd never had an emotional breakdown when he'd tried to use his mouth or force her mouth on him. All Nadia had offered was a simple, unemotional, 'No', and then turned her head away.
"You became the love of each other's lives slowly, then?" Reese had pressed.
He made a noise in his throat as his mind began to explore something he'd never acknowledged. Nadia had never responded to him except in his fantasies when he was alone in the shower stroking himself. But he had coveted and ached for her reaction that told him she wanted him. To reciprocate in his caresses…
Now he was almost ashamed to realize that the romantic love words usually said between couples had never been uttered by him or Nadia. Not when she'd told him of the pregnancy which they suspected was due to a broken condom. Not even when he'd asked her father for permission to marry her or when Brand had proposed to her.
Brand knew he'd loved her with all he'd had at the time. He'd valued Nadia, respected her, cared for her and held both her and her father in high esteem. He'd been devastated by their loss and the loss of the new life he'd planted inside the woman who was to become his bride. Had vowed never to allow himself to love again.
But in pledging something so unrealistic, had he made Nadia a martyr? Held both himself and her memory captive, a wall that prevented him from ever feeling deeply again? Did living his own life take away from the beauty of the connection he'd once shared with her?
He didn't have answers, none that he could find anyway. But just asking the questions seemed to release some knot within him. In fact, when he searched his heart the gaping hole within him was gone. Its absence, the lack of emotion inside, was the only mark of its passing. Brand realized at last, at long fucking last, he was letting Nadia go.
Perhaps the anger he'd held onto for so many years was due to the death of his young dreams and the loss of hope in his future. As well as the guilt of living when she and his unborn child had not.
Godspeed, Nadia Stankovic, his heart whispered in the old language. May heaven give you the joy you couldn't find here on earth.
His eyes caught on the glint of dark blue caught in one of his side-view mirrors, forcing him away from memories and back to their journey.
"Reese? I need for you to pull your hair out of the top of your jacket," he instructed through the helmet mike. He felt her release an arm from his waist and soon saw a flash of one of the bright red locks of hair in a corner of the mirror.
"Are they here?" he heard her ask as she again settled herself against him.
"Just beyond the truck behind us. Your visor is down, yes?"
"Yeah, baby," he heard her breathe and his heart did a double thump at her sweet word.
The car drew even with the motorcycle and matched the motorcycle's pace for more than a few hundred yards before pulling ahead. He turned his head briefly and saw that there were now only two in the car. He made a mental reminder to call Atin as soon as they were home. This game the men were playing had new rules, and he needed to discover them.
"Guess we fooled them this time," she said and Brand could hear the smile in her voice. He reached and covered the hands locked against his waist with one of his own.
"We did, my bride. We did."
Chapter Nineteen
"I thought you said it was a cabin," I asked after we'd parked the bike and removed our helmets. My eyes lifted up, over and around the large structure in front of me. Yeah, it was made of logs and the steps and porch were made of wood But dang, it was huge. Not only was it double the size of the house I'd grown up in, it even had two stories.
Brand was removing the metal saddlebags but stopped at my words. He raised his eyes to mine then looked at the building in front of us. "It is."
I followed him up the steps, our boots thumping against the wood before I saw him unlock the three different locks on the door. I looked around the grounds and back behind me down the long gravel driveway. His place wasn't in the middle of the 'hood but he had it locked up as if expecting an army of thieves to steal everything not nailed down.
But then again, maybe he was right to lock things up so tightly if what met my eyes upon entering was any indication of the rest of the house.
I shrugged out of my backpack as I let my eyes roam over the full open space of the downstairs. To my right was a couple of large brown leather couches that framed a fireplace over which a huge TV hung. The kind of TV that would've had my dad and brothers drooling. The couches were sitting on a brightly patterned, fancy rug and were only separated by a gleaming light wood coffee table.
To my left was the staircase with a large round oak table with six chairs beyond. There was a matching side board pressed into place between two of the windows. Behind the dining table was the kitchen. And oh goodness, what a kitchen!
It was like something off one of those shows on a cable station. Light wood cabinets with rich, flecked granite as countertops. Stainless steel appliances, which included a dishwasher. The upper cabinets had glass doors allowing Brand's colorful dishes and glassware to peek through.
To the right of the kitchen and behind the leather couches was a huge pool table, the cues in a special holder on the back wall.
"Man," I heard myself whisper as I allowed myself another slow stare.
I felt his hands slip around my waist as he pressed against my back.
"Welcome home, wife," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
I turned my head to look up at him. He had to be kidding, right? This is where we were going to live?
"Would you like to see the rest?" he asked smiling.
I could only nod and he moved to grab my hand to lead me up the stairs.
He took me from room to room, but my mind couldn't grab it all until we made it into what he softly said was 'our room'. I would've used the word 'apartment' instead. It was huge and I was guessing from its placement, the room was directly over the living room and dining room. But the room had to be big to hold all the furniture in it.
The bed alone was probably the size of my entire bedroom back home and was bracketed by two large nightstands. At the foot of the bed was another brown leather sofa which faced the fireplace with another huge TV hung over it, and I counted three different dressers, the long kind, strategically placed throughout the vast space. Besides the door coming into the room, I counted two others.
Just like the downstairs and the dishes, all the colors in all the rooms were done in soft golds, deep reds and rich greens.
I was as still as could be, trying to take it all in but none of what I was seeing was making sense to me.
"Goddamn," I mumbled and felt my fingers pinching my lip.
Brand came and stood before me, using a hand to stop my nervous tugs before lifting my face to his. "What are you thinking?"
"Are you rich?" I blurted and wanted to slap a hand over my mouth as soon as the words were out. He frowned at me, then looked around the room.
"No. I have money put aside, but I would not say I was rich," he answered with a frown of confusion. He gathered me in his arms and pulled me to his chest. "Is there a reason why you are shaking, my bride?"
I hadn't even realized it but he was right, I was shaking like I'd been plugged into an electrical outlet. I wrapped my arms around his waist and swallowed before answering.
One of the romance novels I'd read used the world 'squalor' to describe the environment the heroine had grown up in. At the
time, I didn't know what the word meant. So I wrote it down and then looked it up in the ginormous dictionary that sat on a stand in a corner of my high school library. I remembered exactly what the definition had been and how, after I knew what it meant, I'd said it to myself over and over. I even used it in a sentence. 'My mama and I live in squalor every day of our lives.'
As I felt the warmth of him beneath my cheek and rested my eyes on the different pieces around the room, I could finally change the sentence that held that word. As long as I'm with Brand, I'll always be about as far from squalor as you can get.
"Aren't all brides supposed to be nervous on their wedding day?" I countered, but I knew he wasn't fooled.
"Would you like to take a shower?" he asked, his mouth against my ear. "You have not yet seen what a wonderful bathroom we have."
I wasn't surprised by how huge the attached bathroom was since size-wise, it was about on par with the rest of the house. The shower, though, shocked the shit out of me! Big enough to easily hold four people, it didn't have a shower curtain or even a set of glass sliders. The water was prevented from splashing around the room by a stair-step pattern of glass blocks and there were three showerheads on the inside.
"How do you get it to work?" I asked him over my shoulder, deep in the shower, my body facing a row of different shaped knobs. He was holding onto the edge of the entrance, just his head and shoulders in the tiled space with me.
A very sexy smile, which showed his dimple, made an appearance and his eyes became heated. "Undress, my Reese and I will show you."
I raised my eyebrows and felt my own smile begin. He slid his jacket from his shoulders and peeled away his t-shirt. I stepped to him and put my hands on his sculpted chest, giving him a little shove. "Do you think you're gonna take a shower with me?"
Brand nodded quickly.
"So I guess I need to be gettin' naked, too then, huh?"
My new husband enthusiastically nodded again before he began toeing off his boots. But the entire time, his eyes were on me as I started removing my own clothes. Or should I say, his eyes were on the skin that was exposed as I undressed.
"You are very beautiful," he mumbled and I glanced at him after stomping my way out of my jeans, shucking my socks at the same time. My glance soon turned into full on ogling as I observed the gorgeous hunk of naked male flesh in front of me. Caught in the waning sun's rays from just over his shoulders, he looked like a book cover with his hard, curved muscles. Only where the book cover ended, my eyes continued downward to actually look at that part of him I'd only glimpsed or felt. It was just as large as I'd imagined.
But I can honestly say there wasn't an inch, not one square centimeter, on Brand that wasn't perfection.
"You too," my whisper echoed against the tiles as I took a step towards him.
He led me into the shower and had me sit on the corner seat as he adjusted the knobs, finding the temperature he wanted. While he twisted and turned, my eyes were glued to all that wonderful olive-toned skin that rippled over muscle with his every move.
"Come, my Reese. Come get wet with me," he invited over his shoulder. What came out of his mouth as a simple directive, hit my ears as downright dirty and I became very aware of the moisture gathering between my legs when I stood up.
The feel of his drenched skin against mine was almost as hot as the fire his mouth was building as he kissed me deeply. Instead of just holding me, he rubbed himself against my chest, my belly before turning me to burnish my backside.
"Hair or body first, my sexy one?" he asked on a murmur, his mouth next to my ear causing shivers in spite of the warm water.
"Hmm?" Or at least that was the sound I was trying to make. But between what his hands were doing to my breasts and how his hardness was stroking my butt cheeks from side to side, I think I groaned. There was a soft chuckle from behind my shoulder at whatever noise I'd made.
He enveloped my breasts in both hands as I felt his tongue glide over the skin of my neck. Through it all, his long length never stopped its solitary exploration of my backside.
"When I tease my cock over your beautiful ass, your delightful breasts dance for me. Yet when I flick your tantalizing nipples, your voluptuous butt quivers against my thickness." His voice was slow, sexy sin. "Are you ready for me, my bride?"
Again, I reached for the 'hmm' sound but what came out of my mouth was more of a begging moan. It didn't help that he moved one hand from my breast and did a slow, sensual glide down my rib cage, over my belly until it stopped at what would have been curls if I didn't shave.
"Open your legs," he coaxed, causing a spasm deep within me. As I did, I felt his fingers resume their downward slide.
"Oh!" I gasped as his touch began to explore the swollen flesh between my legs as his other hand moved to brush against my very sensitive peaks. I reached an arm behind me to clutch his thigh as my hips started to thrust against his moving digits.
"Yes!" I heard my voice come out of my mouth as a low, dark hiss. My knees were shaking and I pressed my other hand against the tile just to steady myself. "Oh, Bay…"
"Not yet, my sweet draga," he advised before removing his hands and turning to press my back up against the tiled wall. His mouth dropped to mine for another searing kiss. "I need to taste you."
Befuddled by his words, I could only stare as he pulled away from me, the desire clearly evident in his face and in the velvet covered steel rubbing against my stomach. He inched his way down, using his mouth to lick and lave, taste and tempt before crouching on the floor of the shower. His greeny-gray orbs met mine as his fingers caressed my thighs. "I have wanted to do this for days." The sin was back in his voice, and I took it as a warning of the pleasure to come.
Keeping his eyes on mine, he stroked my thighs to coerce them to open further before his thumbs spread my swollen folds. No one had ever looked at me there but when his gaze dropped to his hands, I heard him whisper in the old language. I didn't know what he said but his tone told me of his thoughts. And those thoughts were hot. Hot enough to cause another deep spasm in me.
When his tongue met my core, I couldn't help the sounds that came out of my throat. His fevered tongue started slow and flat, lapping gently before he began to pick up his pace and zeroed in on my bead of desire. Lapping in slow circles, I found my hips followed his slow movements. Deeply bending my knees to help my hips and follow his tongue, I dipped and swayed. Mouthing me, alternating as he licked and sucked, then sometimes doing both by pulling my clit into his mouth and holding me still with his hands as the end of his tongue wiggled on me. I didn't try to stop my cries of delight. Or my hands that caressed the short velvet of his hair.
"So good…" I groaned.
I was inches away from finding my orgasm when I felt him slide a finger into the depths of me, which was soon joined by another one. "I'm gonna…" I tried to alert him of the wantonness flaring inside me; a wildness that was out of control. And I found my hands were no longer stroking his head, but I was holding him to me, my hips churning and thrusting against his busy tongue. "Damn, Bay…here," I ground out, my breath hitching.
He moaned and the vibrations of his mouth sent me completely over the edge, yelling his name. My body quivered and clenched, locking and milking his fingers. The scorching pleasure robbed me of coherent speech as it thundered through me. As the sharpness of delight decreased to vibrating undulations, I dropped my head back to the wall and closed my eyes. That had been the most exciting thing I'd ever felt in my life, with so much power it was almost frightening.
I felt him rise and take me in his arms, pressing his mouth to my neck, my chin, my jaw. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his back and shoulders.
"Did you enjoy that, my bride?" His voice was rough as his lips found the sensitive skin underneath my ear.
"Oh, yeah…" There was no denying that I enjoyed the hell out of what he'd done. "But Bay, you didn't get yours."
"I will. Let us dry off and go to the bed," h
e suggested, reaching quickly for the knobs as if to shut off the water.
"Uh, Brand? Hold up," I instructed, pulling him back to me. "Can I try?"
"Try?" His eyebrows were furled together over his glowing eyes framed by the wet spikes of his eyelashes.
I stood on tiptoe and tried to put my mouth close to his ear as I reached between us to palm his hard-on. "Can I put my mouth on you to make you feel that good?"
*.*.*.*.*
Brand didn't think his cock could get any harder but at Reese's whisper, he felt himself stiffen and throb even more. He pulled back and searched her eyes to check if she was being truthful about wanting to put her full lips on his aching shaft.
At the sincerity he saw there, he felt his balls pull tightly up against his body. The soft, hesitant movement of her hands on his turgid length and the honest yearning he saw in her face, shredded his control.
"I've never done this before, so you'll have to teach me how," she whispered as she bent her knees, her eyes glued to his. He leaned his back on the glass bricks and lifted a hand to snag one of the towels he'd draped over the top earlier. She looked at him quizzically when he handed it to her.
"For your knees," he tried to explain, although he wasn't even sure if he was speaking English since his mind was short-circuited by her evident eagerness to provide him pleasure.
As she folded and got the towel in place, he couldn't help stroking himself as his gaze roamed over her wet skin. His eyes followed the rivulets of water that cascaded down her shoulders and dripped off her hard nipples, making her skin glimmer in the low lights of the bathroom.
Her hands covered his with a soft, "here, let me." Using both hands, she copied what he'd been doing, sliding from root to tip. He watched as she adjusted her stance on her knees and brought her mouth to hover just over his glans. Her eyes moved back up to his face.
"Tell me how, baby." He heard her words but couldn't speak at the feel of the innocent, tentative swipe of her tongue over his crown.
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