“I don’t want to be cooped up in the house anymore, Bryson.”
He held up a placating hand. “I’m not saying you need to stay in bed or anything, I just think an extra few days off from work couldn’t hurt.”
I pursed my lips and stared back at him. Going back to work while still fighting with the persistent and unpredictable nausea really didn’t sound like fun. I’d been just hanging on the last few days I’d spent at work.
Would it really be such a bad thing to take a few more days off? I know I had tons of vacation time saved up since Bryson refused to ever take any and I couldn’t think of a good enough reason to spend them alone.
“Would you be home too?” I asked.
He averted his gaze and ran a hand down his scruffy face. “I really need to get back to the office. I’ve rescheduled a lot of clients and the bosses aren’t too happy.” I sighed, and he rushed on, “But if you need me, I’ll stay home. You’re what’s most important to me.”
The days of having Bryson all to myself had come to an end, just like I knew they would. An irrational part of me was scared to lose him to work again. It felt like if he went back to that office, all the progress we’d made would come undone. But that was silly. He used to be able to juggle work and home life just fine. It had only been this past year that things had gotten rocky.
As if he could read my mind, Bryson spoke up again. “I’m going to be cutting back my case load. I’m not going to work as much as I have. I was stupid for taking on so many clients and you had to pay the price. I promise, things won’t be like that anymore.”
I studied his earnest hazel eyes and found that I believed him. “Okay, Brys. I trust you.”
As those three small words spilled from my lips, I realized how true they were.
Bryson’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward to place a kiss on my cheek. His soft lips sent a shiver racing down my spine that I knew didn’t escape his notice. “Come on, Mack, let’s get you home. I’ve got a can of soup there with your name on it.”
“Yay. Soup,” I deadpanned.
Bryson chuckled and helped me to stand and get situated in the car. As I watched him walk around to get in the other side, I tried to identify the heavy feeling in my chest. It felt like my heart had swelled and was pressing against my ribcage, begging for release.
I realized after a moment that it was simple happiness. I was so happy in that moment. Happy about seeing our baby, happy about how the future with my husband looked, happy about everything. But I feared a feeling as pure as that couldn’t last.
A gasp flew from my lips as I jackknifed to a sitting position in the bed. My chest was heaving with my labored breath, my skin tingling with the last remnants of the dream I’d just had.
“Mack?” Bryson’s his voice was deep and groggy with sleep.
“Yeah,” I panted.
“Everything okay?”
No.
Everything was not okay.
The dream was slipping between my mind’s fingers as I struggled to hold on. It had been so real. Like I was really there, beneath Bryson, writhing at his touch. My belly flipped as butterflies took flight inside me. I could still feel his thick fingers, buried deep inside me and a moan fell from my lips.
“Mack?”
“Yes?” I gasped.
He sat up and turned me to face him. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
Out of nowhere, hot tears were coursing down my face. I was still panting as I fought to control my emotions.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he crooned. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
God, it hurt. Every nerve ending was on fire, begging to be touched like I was in the dream. Demanding the pleasure I’d lived without for so long. I looked to Bryson helplessly, wanting him to fix it, but not knowing how to articulate what I needed.
He cupped my face with both hands and met my eyes. “Baby, please. Tell me what to do.”
I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. All I could do was show him.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his for the first time in months. Heat raced through my body at the feel of his mouth against mine until he pulled back with a gasp.
“Mack? What’s going on?”
“Please,” I whispered. “Please.”
I slanted my mouth against his again, and this time there was no hesitation. Bryson’s mouth moved with mine, kissing and tasting as his hands clenched my face tighter. He worked his way inside my mouth and my tongue met his in a fight that was instinctual for us.
A few endless minutes later, Bryson’s hand’s slid from my face to my shoulders. They traveled down my back where he slid them beneath my shirt, his hands hot on my skin. I gasped into his mouth and he growled low in the back of his throat.
“Is this what you want, Mack?” he murmured against my lips. I nodded frantically, my hands finding their favorite places on his body. The places I loved because they drove him crazy.
He growled again and nipped at my bottom lip. “I’ll give you anything you want, Mack. You just have to ask.”
“You,” I gasped. “I want you.”
With a growl, Bryson tore my shirt up and over my head, his lips leaving mine for the smallest fraction of a second. His hands returned to my skin, both cupping my tender breasts and plucking at the nipples. I gasped loudly at the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain he was eliciting from my breasts.
“Is this okay?” he breathed against my neck.
I nodded wildly. “Uh huh.”
I felt his lips smile against my skin before they slid down my chest and captured one of my nipples. My head fell back as he licked and sucked, pulling and nipping at the oversensitive buds. The feeling was so intense, I felt my orgasm already winding a coil of desire deep in my belly.
“Bryson,” I gasped as his mouth found my second nipple, treating it much the same as the first.
“I got you, Kenzi.”
His hands skimmed down my sides until they reached the waist of my pants. He hooked his fingers inside and slid them slowly down my legs. When they were disposed of, he palmed my calves, sliding his big hands up the length of my thighs until I was spread out before him.
He pulled away from my nipple with a pop and sat back on his heels to look at me. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” His voice was deep and gritty, like the words were scraping up his throat past sandpaper.
If this had been anyone else, I’d have felt self-conscious being laid bare like I was. But, this was Bryson. He’d seen me in every position imaginable and the look in his eyes told me he enjoyed the view as much as he had the first time.
I reached out for him and he leaned back over my body, capturing my lips with his own and running his free hand up my thigh.
“Are you ready for me, Kenzi?”
I nodded, but he took it upon himself to investigate. His big hand trailed up my thigh until it met my center. He slid one finger down my seam before pressing inside me. I gasped at the intrusion and Bryson hissed out a breath between his teeth.
“You’re so wet, Kenzi. Is this all for me?”
I nodded again, my mouth not capable of forming words.
His thick finger slid in and out of me easily as I squirmed beneath his hot gaze. When he added a second finger, a deep moan rolled out of my throat and my eyes snapped closed.
“So fucking beautiful,” Bryson whispered from above me before placing his hot mouth on the column of my neck. He bit and sucked the tender skin while his fingers kept pumping in and out of me.
I felt my orgasm building and my breathy pants came faster, my fingers clutching at the blanket beneath me. Bryson must have noticed too because his fingers slowed their frenzied pace until they stopped completely. With wide eyes, I watched him bring his fingers to his lips and lick off the juices I’d left behind.
“You taste so fuckin’ sweet, Kenzi. How’ve I lived without this?”
I didn’t have an answer for him, so I just shook my head.
B
ryson spread my thighs even farther and just stared at me, his eyes so dark and hot, I was surprised I didn’t melt beneath them. With one hand, he maneuvered himself out of his boxer shorts and now he was as naked as I was.
With a hand next to my head, he used the other to position himself at my entrance. In one swift movement, he slid inside me until he bottomed out. We both gasped loudly as my legs wrapped around his hips.
“And this,” he whispered. “How could I ever forget how perfect this feels?”
I didn’t know the answer to this question either, so I stayed quiet.
Bryson’s hips pulled back before thrusting forward again, pulling a deep groan from within me.
He felt so big and hard and right inside of me. Like we were two jagged pieces of the same puzzle. Like we completed each other. Like we were right where we were meant to be.
After the first few pumps, Bryson began to pick up speed, thrusting into me harder and faster each time. His hands reached under my lower back and pulled me closer to him, so he was entering me from a slightly different position.
“I don’t know how things got so broken between us, Kenzi, but I’m gonna’ fix it.” He thrust even harder than before. “I’m not losing you.”
My heart broke and repaired itself over and over again as I lay beneath him, taking in his words and his actions simultaneously. It was too much. It was sensation and emotional overload and I knew I was moments away from snapping in two.
“I love you,” he whispered, and my eyes darted to his. They were so deep, I got lost inside them. “I love you so fucking much.”
A tear leaked from one of my eyes as the coil deep in my belly, finally reaching its breaking point, snapped in two, shooting hot streaks of pleasure through my body. His words rang out in my head on repeat as my limbs shook with one of the most powerful orgasms of my life.
“Yes, Kenzi, yes. Fuck,” he yelled as he pumped once more, pressing his hips into mine and holding them there, his body frozen as he climaxed.
His hands slid out from underneath me before he flopped onto the bed, pulling me close to his chest. We were both damp with sweat and still breathing heavily as the afterglow wilted around us slowly.
Emotion welled up inside of me and more tears swam to the surface.
Bryson reached up a hand and tucked a mess of hair behind my ear. His face was close to mine as a concerned frown twisted his lips.
“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning my face for the truth.
I shook my head, the tears trailing down my face. “No, not at all.” More words bubbled beneath the surface, but I struggled to keep them down. To keep them for myself. But I knew they needed to be shared. They were for the both of us and it would be selfish to keep them for myself when he’d given so much to me. “It was perfect, Brys.”
His soft smile spread, crinkling the skin next to his eyes. He bent down and kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, my wet cheeks. His lips left behind a tingling sensation everywhere they went. Finally, his lips met mine, moving slowly with my own, neither of us in a rush to get anywhere.
This was a kiss full of promises. One I’d never forget because it felt like the beginning of something.
A shiver raced through my body, not from his lips, but from my exposed, still slightly damp skin. Bryson felt it and pulled away, his brows drawn in concern. Without words, he pulled my discarded clothing back on my body and tucked me beneath our blankets before slipping between the sheets next to me.
Instead of just holding my hand, he wrapped a thick arm around my waist and pulled me until I was against his chest. His warmth slithered through me, not just heating my limbs, but also those dark cold places inside me. Since they came from him, it was only fitting that he be the one to fill them.
I had a feeling he was the only one who could.
As I was falling under sleep’s spell, Bryson’s hand reached out and found mine, fingers twining together. And, just before I fell asleep, I sighed and squeezed his hand three times. Knowing that it was and would always be my deepest truth.
Chapter 33
A soft pressure on my face woke me up the next morning.
“Morning, Mack,” Bryson whispered in my ear. His soft lips leave a trail of heat down my jaw and over to my mouth. He kissed me sweetly and I couldn’t help but smile.
This was the way things used to be before everything went wrong. Waking up to my husband’s lips was always the start of a perfect day.
“Morning.”
I stretched my arms high above my head, giving Bryson room to wrap his around my waist and pull me to his chest.
“I was gonna’ get up and make you some eggs,” he murmured into my hair.
“You don’t have to do that. I can make them myself.”
He kissed the back of my head. “But I want to.”
I smiled softly, the remnants of sleep slowly fading from my mind. This was real. Bryson was here, he was present, and he was acting like he was in love with me again. Could a person fall in and out of love? Or was it always there, lying dormant until awoken?
“Then I guess I can schedule you in for breakfast,” I tease, giving him a grin over my shoulder.
He pinched my hip, making me squeal and squirm beneath his hands. In the blink of an eye, he was above me, his hazel eyes so green in the morning light, I felt like I could see right through them. He cupped my face with both hands and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
“Mack, I don’t know what happened between us, but I know I didn’t like who I’d become. Or how far I’d let us fall. I thought that giving you space was the best thing I could have done for us, but I went too far. The further I drifted from you, the harder it was to see what I was missing until you were almost gone. I didn’t really realize what I could lose until I saw you in that hospital bed. I promise you, I’m never gonna’ let that happen again. I’m never gonna’ let you go. I love you.”
His words were the balm my heart needed to heal. I felt it mend and swell in my chest, rearranging my insides until they were all stamped indelibly with him.
Bryson.
My husband.
The man I’d promised the rest of my days to.
I reached up and cupped his face with a shaking hand. “I need to own up to my part in this too. You didn’t just walk away, I pushed you. I promise I won’t do that again. I need you. It was never more clear than when I thought I’d lose you. I’m sorry. For everything. For treating you horribly, for accusing you of things I know you’d never do. I’m so sorry.”
He leaned down and pressed another kiss to my lips, stealing the words that were coming next. He didn’t need them, and I didn’t need to say them. We’d said all the important ones, and our bodies could say anything else that was important.
Bryson skimmed his hands down my sides until he had my shirt gripped in his fist. He pulled it off me and tossed it over his shoulder. “I love you so much Mack,” he whispered, his hot mouth skating over my breasts. “Let me show you.”
Small kisses fed the flame between us until it raged out of control. Every touch felt reverential, like he was worshipping me, not just loving me. And when we were both sated and breathing heavily, I gave him the words I’d been keeping for myself out of fear. “I love you, Bryson. I always have.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me to stay home? I can call the office and have someone else handle my clients today,” Bryson promised, his cell phone held in the air between us.
“I’m sure, Brys. I’m fine. I’m just going to be hanging around the house. I might get some light cleaning or laundry done,” I paused at his frown and spoke louder, “because the doctor said I could.” Bryson was still scowling when I continued, “But mostly, I’m just going to lounge around, maybe have some soup and throw it up a little later on. You know, the usual.”
Bryson’s lips twitched with a smile. “I’m serious, Mack. I can stay home.”
I grabbed his bicep and led him toward the door. “It
isn’t necessary. You said yourself that your bosses weren’t happy with all the time you took off, there’s no reason to make things worse. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be in one piece when you get home.”
“Five-thirty. I’ll be home by five-thirty.”
I looked away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Brys.”
He pinched my chin softly between his thumb and forefinger. “I can keep this one.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips that quickly turned hard and needy. A few long minutes later, we pulled back, both of us panting, our smiles stretching across our faces.
Bryson leaned in once more to kiss me briefly on the mouth. “Five thirty,” he promised, and I nodded. I believed him.
I trusted him.
I spent the next few hours catching up on the housework that had been ignored while I’d been staying with Josie. The dust had started to get dusty, and the laundry had grown to monumental proportions. But it felt good to be back in my own home knowing a loving husband would be walking through the door at five thirty. It was a far cry from the life I’d been leading lately.
Around lunchtime, I heard a knock at the door and went to investigate. I took a look through the peephole and frowned as I turned the lock and opened the door.
“Mason. What are you doing here?”
The man in question was dressed impeccably in a light blue shirt that enhanced the color of his eyes and a pair of dark slacks. He shrugged and held up a grocery bag. “I brought you lunch.”
My heart swelled, and I held the door open wider. “That’s so sweet. I was just getting ready to make myself something. Come in.”
Mason wasted no time stepping through the door, stopping next to me in the foyer, his shoulder brushing against mine. “I’m assuming your husband isn’t home.”
His voice was brusque and so unlike him. I frowned and shook my head. “No, Bryson’s at work.”
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