The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3

by Barbara Meyers

  Her answer came out on a sigh of resignation and regret. “No.”

  “How is that?” Trey moved around so he could see her. “How could any guy be married to you and not want you twenty-four/seven?”

  “Would you?” A lump of emotion formed in her throat.

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Really? You’d want me? In bed?”

  Trey frowned. “I thought I proved that. Must be losing my touch.”

  “No. No.” She shook her head in vehement denial. “I thought—that was maybe because you hadn’t had sex in a while. I’ve heard when a guy doesn’t get any—”

  “Hey.” He grabbed her hand. “I haven’t had sex for a while because I made a conscious decision not to, not because I couldn’t if I’d wanted to. Believe me when I say, with you, I wanted to.”

  “Okay.” Even though he didn’t know it, Trey had given her a gift she’d never expected to get. The tears she’d been trying to hold back escaped.

  “Baylee. Awww.” He gathered her close again and let her cry all over him, shoving tissues at her until there was a small pile of them littering the bed. Eventually, she quieted.

  He turned the bedside light off, so only the light from the bathroom broke up the darkness. She thought he’d start asking her questions but he didn’t, though she could sense his desire for an explanation. She certainly owed him one.

  “I didn’t know Scott was gay when I married him, although I certainly should have, I suppose. He was in denial, I think, about his sexuality. He thought marriage would somehow fix him. It didn’t.

  “His family would never accept his homosexuality, and that would have crushed him.

  “I thought the reason he didn’t press me for sex before we got married was because he respected me. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? But we were both involved in our church youth group, we’d both committed to abstinence before marriage. I know a lot of kids sign up for that but don’t take it seriously. I honestly thought Scott and I were on the same page.

  “Which we were, but for different reasons. Fast forward to the honeymoon. I was ready. More than ready. I loved him. Thought I’d be with him for the rest of my life, that he’d be the only man who’d ever touch me that way…but he didn’t want me.”

  Trey squeezed her against him in sympathy.

  “The sad thing is I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out. We’d kiss and stuff, you know? He’d get excited. But when it came time to, you know. Penetrate?”

  “Yes. I know.”

  “He’d lose it. All the desire fizzled.”

  “So you figured it was you.”

  Baylee nodded vigorously. “What else could it be? There wasn’t anything wrong with him, obviously. He just didn’t want me.”

  “Oh, Baylee.” He gave her another squeeze. “He never told you?”

  “Not for a long time. Years. I tried everything. Sexy lingerie. Stuff like that. Nothing.” She shuddered remembering how humiliated she’d been, trying to turn Scott on in a variety of ways. How the harder she tried, the more distant and, it seemed to her, disgusted he became.

  “I couldn’t take it anymore. Finally I insisted on marriage counseling. Either that or a divorce.”

  “Why the hell did he put you through that? Why not choose the divorce?”

  “It would have devastated his family. His father’s a minister, a very staunch conservative, traditional kind of man who ruled his family with his beliefs. Scott loved him and admired him, but he also feared him. Feared the possible repercussions. I understand it now, but at the time it was like living in hell.”

  “What happened in marriage counseling?”

  “The inevitable. Scott finally admitted he was gay. I was able to vent my anger and frustration and disappointment. Telling his family we were getting a divorce was the lesser of two evils as far as Scott was concerned.”

  “You mean his family still doesn’t know he’s gay?”

  “He’s never told them as far as I know.”

  “Am I allowed to say something?”

  “Of course.”

  Trey shifted so he could see her. He cupped her face with one hand, his fingers sliding back into her hair. “That was an extremely shitty and cowardly thing he did to you.”

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I know. But I let him do it. It’s hard to explain to someone else, but I loved him. I think maybe I was scared and he was safe.”

  “What were you scared of?”

  Of having a man who only wants to use me. Of passion. Of feeling the way I once did with you.

  But hadn’t Scott used her too? For his own purposes? Hadn’t she used him to play it safe rather than risk going after the kind of man she really wanted? “I was scared of a lot of things, I guess. Isn’t everybody?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Hey. You awake?” Trey whispered.

  She was, though she didn’t want to be. She’d been happily drowsing, enjoying the feel of Trey’s warm skin next to hers. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten all day. Plus she was thirsty and she had to pee.

  “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to make coffee. Maybe get something to eat.”

  “Okay.” She scooted out of bed. Her clothes were scattered around the room. She’d look for them later. In the bathroom she stared at her reflection. She didn’t think she looked any different. Her hair was its usual tumbled mess. Maybe her lips were a little swollen. Wait, there was something different. The knowing look in her eyes was new.

  She smiled at herself. At last, she knew what “it” was all about.

  When she finished in the bathroom, she found her panties in a twisted tangle near the bottom of the mattress. The rest of her clothes were in various crumpled heaps. She opened Trey’s second dresser drawer and slipped into one of his vee-necked T-shirts. The hem hit the tops of her thighs.

  Barefoot, she padded down the hallway to the kitchen. The aroma of brewing coffee tinged the air. Trey’s head was in the refrigerator. He backed out with his arms full of sandwich makings. He stared at her.

  “I borrowed one of your T-shirts. Hope you don’t mind.” She came toward him.

  “Uh, no. Help yourself.” He set everything on the table. Then he stared at her some more.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  “I had you figured for a T-shirt kind of girl. You know. To sleep in.”

  “So?”

  “But you walked out of the bathroom in New York in a silky, sexy nightie.”

  “So? I wasn’t planning on sharing a room with you when I packed.”

  “I know. It threw me.”

  “It did?” Her lips curled into a smile.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

  “Not really. No.”

  “Sharing a room with you about drove me crazy.”

  “It did?” The smile returned.

  “Why do you think I was so cranky the first morning?”

  “Because of me?”

  “Baylee, let me tell you something. You want to turn a guy on, you put on that sexy outfit and give him one of your ‘you can’t touch me’ looks. You’ll drive him crazy in about five seconds.”

  “I have a ‘you can’t touch me’ look?”

  Trey grinned. “You did.” He pulled her to him. “Not so much anymore.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Let’s eat.”

  They put plates together and went outside. Trey left his coffee on a small table next to the swing, but Baylee opted to keep her bottle of water next to her.

  Crickets chirped. The night air was cool but not uncomfortable. Trey put the swing in motion and they ate in companionable silence. He set the empty plates on the table and picked up his mug.

  Replete with sex and food, Baylee knew she needed to crash and sleep for six or eight hours. Her eyelids drooped. She yawned. “I have to get some sleep,” she informed him.

  “Come here.” She climbed into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her as if he were
rocking a small child. The soft cotton of his pajama bottoms and T-shirt were like a security blanket. She could definitely fall asleep here, wrapped in such warmth.

  “If I fall asleep, you’re going to have to carry me to bed,” she warned him after a few minutes. “Your knee won’t like it.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. Let’s go in.”

  Trey came awake the next morning with a raging need, his too-long-denied libido ready for some action. In the past, when he had found himself in this position with a woman in bed next to him, he’d make his desire known and let nature take its course.

  Baylee was curled on her side with her back to him. He could tell she was still asleep. He debated waking her. He wanted to. Desperately. But in his new, mature outlook, the one he’d been trying to develop for more than a year, he reminded himself everything wasn’t about him. His needs. His wants. His desires.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, Baylee had still been a virgin. For all of her enthusiasm last night, he doubted she’d appreciate him coming at her first thing this morning, nudging her awake with morning wood and expecting her to accommodate him.

  He laid a hand on her hip, just for a second, before he got out of bed. He could get used to cold showers, he supposed. Not that they did anything to relieve his discomfort long-term.

  In fact, he spent the entire time in the bathroom, all through showering and shaving, reliving scenes from last night in his head. Baylee.

  He’d never suspected she was interested in him. But what a welcome surprise. Still, he should tread carefully, shouldn’t he? She might think all they were doing was having sex, but he knew sex involved emotions. More for women than men, but whether women wanted to believe it or not, men had emotions too. They could be hurt, as he knew only too well from firsthand experience.

  Being a selfish SOB had become second nature to him, but it wasn’t beneficial for long-term interaction with a woman.

  Whoa. Long-term? Relationship? Commitment? He was getting ahead of himself here, wasn’t he? He didn’t know where this thing with Baylee was going. He suspected she didn’t either. Best to take it slow.

  He yanked on underwear and jeans and opened the bathroom door to find her awake, still in bed, tracking his every move. Every thought of taking it slow went right out of his head. The cold shower he’d endured had been a waste of time. Desire tore through him seeing her there in his bed with that sleepy gleam in her eye.

  “Come here,” she said.

  He stepped to the edge of the bed.

  “What’s this?” She reached up and tugged on the waistband of his jeans.

  “What’s what?”

  “You’re dressed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  She sat up. The sheet fell away to pool around her waist, leaving the top half of her naked.

  He stared down at her. “Uh.”

  “I thought you’d wake me up first. Don’t guys get what they call ‘morning wood’?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  “Is that what this is?”

  Her hand slid over his crotch, cupping the bulge now pressing for release. Her expression held knowing innocence mixed with genuine curiosity. “I thought maybe after last night you’d had enough,” Trey choked out.

  She grinned up at him. “I’ve got lots of time to make up for, remember? I’ll probably never get enough. Can we undo this?” She unsnapped his jeans and slid the zipper down. “Take these off.”

  Trey complied. The jeans dropped to the floor.

  “And these,” she whispered, tugging at the leg of his boxers.

  They dropped and his erection sprang free.

  “Oh, wow.”

  Baylee touched his stomach and he flinched, his startled abs reacting, his whole body rigid with need and anticipation.

  Her hands explored him, caressed his groin, the tops of his thighs. Trey held his breath. She gripped him tightly in one hand and looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. “I want to try something. But I’ve never done it before. You might have to give me some pointers.”

  He couldn’t speak, spellbound by what she did to him, her touch, her apparent fascination with his reactions.

  When her mouth closed around him, he sighed in ecstasy. She scooted closer. He buried his fingers in her hair. Had anything ever felt this good? He couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think. Everything he had was concentrated right there in her mouth.

  She stopped only once to ask, “How am I doing? Any suggestions?”

  She didn’t need much direction, and what little he gave her, she took so well, in seconds he had to ease her away from him. She let go with a sad little sound of disappointment. “I wasn’t done yet,” she informed him.

  “You were close enough,” he told her dryly. “Lay down.”

  She grumbled some more but complied. Trey got a condom in place and yanked the sheet off and gave her the same treatment she’d given him. He breathed in the musky scent of their earlier mating. She was so easy, so ready.

  His knee be damned, he was going to be on top this time, the one in control. He had another knee after all, and enough upper body strength he was pretty sure he could make it work.

  Her eagerness inflamed him. The way she had of wrapping herself around him, moving against him, beneath him, had his control slipping away. Her fingers dug into his buttocks. Her lower body arched against him, meeting each of his thrusts until he was spent.

  Could you pass out from euphoria? he wondered a few minutes later. He doubted it, but he seemed to have blanked out. When he came to, he found her crushed beneath him, her fingertips playing idly up and down his back like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  He propped himself up on his forearms to look at her. She matched his direct gaze. No coyness or shyness there.

  He kissed her. Her arms came around his neck and she kissed him back.

  Finally he rolled off her, keeping one arm crooked around her. “You’re going to kill me, you know that?”

  “Death by sex?”

  He chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “How’s the knee?”

  “What knee?”

  She giggled.

  “I’ll let you know when the feeling returns.”

  She propped herself up to look at him. He returned her gaze, sifting his fingers through her hair. She didn’t say anything but continued to study him.

  Finally he said, “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m going to go take a shower, okay? And since you’ve been such a good boy, I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “Okay.”

  Baylee stood under the warm water, letting it soak her hair and skin while she sorted through her jumbled thoughts.

  Had she planned this, whatever this was with Trey? From the moment she’d set foot on his porch, perhaps she had subconsciously decided to seduce him. The very idea made her giggle. She had no idea how to seduce a man. She’d never had to, and her attempts at seducing Scott had left her with little faith in her own appeal.

  No, she assured herself, all she had done was take matters into her own hands and decide for herself what her first sexual experience was going to be and who it would be with.

  She’d chosen Trey for her first time again, and for better or worse, the experience was permanently implanted in her memory bank.

  She made him breakfast, cleaned up the dishes and picked up her purse.

  “Aren’t you staying the rest of the day?”

  “Nope. I have a couple of commitments I made before I agreed to work for you full-time. I’ve got to feed the Shrivers’ cat, and then I’m taking Mrs. Willoughby to her doctor’s appointment and to run some errands.”

  Trey slid his arms around her. She’d already pulled her hair up in a ponytail. He liked her hair down so he could run his fingers through it whenever he wanted. He kissed her. “You could come back tonight.”

  “Can’t. I have plans.”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  �
�I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “How about tomorrow night? Are you busy? We could go to dinner.”

  She eased away from him. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t know?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Don’t know what? Whether you can stay tomorrow? Whether you want to eat dinner with me? What?”

  “All of the above.”

  Was she saying she didn’t want to be around him? Unless they were in bed? Was she using him? For sex? The outrageousness of the thought almost knocked him over. If that was what she was doing, he was having none of it.

  “Okay. I’ll see you around.”

  He walked away from her before she could walk out the door. How was that for having the last word?

  By suppertime Trey had to acknowledge the truth. He missed Baylee. He wanted to call her. Just to hear her voice. How pathetic was that? He wanted to ask her again if she wanted to come over, which, they both knew, translated into did she want to spend the night?

  He held his cell phone in his hand and accessed her number. He stared at the display until the screen went black. One touch of a button and it would reappear. Touch one more button and the phone would automatically dial. And?

  She’d turn him down again. He’d be in the position of begging. Trey Christopher did not beg.

  She’d rejected him this morning. He hadn’t particularly cared for the experience and had no wish to repeat it less than twelve hours later. He set the phone down and did what he often did when he was frustrated and lonely and not ready to sleep. He worked out. He did the exercises the PT recommended for his knee. He meditated. He wrote in his journal until his hand cramped. He watched some television, idly flipping from sports to movies to news and back. He took some ibuprofen, brushed his teeth and got into bed.

  The sheets were rumpled. He imagined he could still smell her scent on the pillow next to his. In his head he replayed all of last night, which did not, in any way, help him to relax. He tossed and turned and shoved the pillow she’d used onto the floor. If only he could as easily shove thoughts of Baylee out of his head. Apparently, once she’d taken up residence, she wasn’t easy to dislodge.