“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I didn’t say two words to them.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said. He kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. “You didn’t say congratulations, you didn’t ask any questions, you just sat there.”
“So?” I asked. “Everyone else was fawning all over them quite enough. I like Rachel and Damien, but, seriously, they had to make that announcement tonight? In front of me? Besides, Rachel came into the bathroom and we had a great conversation. I told her there that I was really happy for her, and she said she was thinking about me, us, and how hard we’re trying.”
Brady was quiet for a moment. We turned onto our street. “It’s not always about you, Gabi.”
“What did you just say?” I couldn’t believe he was saying these things to me. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, I know we’re having trouble, but that doesn’t mean that we need to ruin other people’s happiness by always reminding everyone that we can’t have kids.”
I was getting pissed. “And by ‘we,’ you mean me. And by being quiet and not gushing all over someone else’s pregnancy announcement, you think I’m always reminding everyone that we can’t have kids.”
“Gabi—”
“No, I just want to make sure that I have this right,” I said angrily. We pulled into the driveway and I got out of the car, slamming the door. Its echo bounced off the garage door and sounded loud in the dark night.
“I just think we should try to put our struggles out of our minds for a while. I mean, all of these friends of ours having babies has to be a good sign for us, right?”
“Right,” I said. “So, we’re the only ones struggling to have a baby and I should just pretend to be happy about that, or, better yet, pretend I don’t want a baby at all.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Brady was standing by the car with his keys in his hand. I stalked to the garage door and opened it. We walked into the house, continuing to argue.
“It sure sounds like what you’re saying. And, I would like to point out that I didn’t say one word about our situation to anyone at the table tonight, nor did I get up and leave even though that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I stayed and was happy for them. As happy as I could be, given that I feel like I’m breaking inside!”
I didn’t wait for him to respond, but walked up to the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of the closet.
“Where are you going?” he said, appearing in the doorway.
“I’m going to my mom’s for tonight. I don’t want to be here right now. I can’t fight with you; it’s stressful on my body and affects my hormones.”
Brady sighed. “Can I drive you?”
I glared at him. “No, I will drive myself. Don’t worry, I won’t take your car. I’ll take the Saturn.”
I tossed some shirts and pants, underwear and stockings all into my suitcase. I walked past Brady into our bathroom and grabbed my makeup, curling iron, brush and hair dryer. I packed faster than I ever had before.
“Goodbye, Brady,” I said, walking back downstairs.
“Wait, Gabi,” Brady sounded extremely concerned for the first time that night. “This is just for a night, right? I mean…” he stopped and looked at me. “Look, we can go somewhere to get away together. Let’s go on a vacation or something. We can check flights and book something tomorrow.”
I turned to him, took a deep breath, and tried to control my volume. “It’s just for a night or two. I need some breathing room. I need to think. This is harder for me, clearly, than it is for you. I need some time to think. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
I loved Brady. He was a good husband and he would be an amazing father. But I couldn’t stand to fight with him and, sometimes, the only way to avoid a fight was for us to go to our separate corners for a while and think. I was going to go to my mom’s and do it there. Hopefully in a few days, I’d be less in a funk and better able to talk to Brady. For tonight, though, I didn’t want to see him.
Chapter Three
My mom was surprised to see me, but she welcomed me in without comment.
“Have you had dinner?” she asked. “I made a lasagna for dinner and there are leftovers in the fridge. I could heat some of it up for you.” She had opened the fridge before I could even respond.
“I’m okay, Mom. Brady and I went out to dinner tonight with friends. I just need a night or two to cool off. Can I stay here?”
“Of course! You can have the guest room.” There were three people living in my mom’s house: my mom; her husband, my stepfather David; and my step-brother, Austin. Austin lived in the basement, which had left my mother’s extra bedroom upstairs as a guest room.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, picking up my suitcase. “Austin was at the same restaurant as I was tonight; is he home yet?”
“I don’t think I heard him come in,” my mom said, looking toward the floor as if she could see through it and identify if Austin was home or not. “He had a date, so I’m sure he’ll be out late if he comes home at all.”
I shook my head. “Like you would have ever let me stay out all night if I was under your roof, even at age twenty-four.” I smiled. “You’re getting soft, Ma,” I chided her.
I scooted out of the grasp of the lasagna and brought my suitcase upstairs. I unpacked and changed into a tank top and yoga pants. I sat on the bed and sighed. Already I was feeling a little less stressed out. I thought about calling Brady. I knew he was worried. I decided to go downstairs and get a glass of wine instead.
I walked into the kitchen and almost into Austin.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised. “Is everything okay?”
Whether it was the stress of the day or just needing something in that moment, I threw my arms around him and put my head on his shoulder.
“Okaaaay,” he said slowly, patting my back.
“I need a hug,” I said, my voice muffled into his t-shirt.
“Sounds like you need a cocktail, too,” he said.
I pulled back from him. “I was actually going to open a bottle of wine,” I said.
“That’ll do. I’ve got some downstairs, come on.”
We walked to his basement apartment. My mom and stepfather had finished it off with the intention of renting it out; it was a beautiful space. Austin wanted to be that renter. He took a lot of pride in that he didn’t ‘live with his parents,’ he paid rent just like everybody else. Of course, I could never have lived that close to my mother, but, to each their own, right?
He grabbed a bottle of red from a cabinet and two glasses.
“How was your date?” I asked.
“Eh, kind of a dud,” he said. “She has a problem with motorcycles.”
I laughed. “Who doesn’t love a bad boy?” I asked.
“Denise, apparently.” He popped the cork and poured each glass full nearly to the rim. He brought it over to me and handed it to me. “Cheers,” he said, sitting beside me.
We clinked glasses and I took a long sip. The wine hit my taste buds and I began to relax immediately as it moved down my throat. “Holy shit, that’s good wine,” I said.
“Nothing but the best for you,” he said. “So, what’s up? Did you and Brady have a fight?”
Little known fact about my brother: he’s a complete badass on the outside, complete with leather, motorcycle, and a rap sheet. But, from the moment he and I met, we hit it off. We did good things for each other. Both of us were only children and had always wanted a sibling. I had always wanted a brother, and he had always wanted a sister. Two years ago, my boss at the job I was working at the time was threatening to fire me. Austin came into my job and had a chat with my boss, and I never heard another word other than praise from my boss.
Austin really liked Brady, but he loved me, and he knew that we’d been having trouble conceiving.
“I’m just getting so frustrated,” I said. “It sucks, and it sucks even more when Brady should be suppor
tive of me but instead he gets mad that I wasn’t happy enough, or whatever, for our friends.”
“I’m sure you were fine,” he said. “It sucks for Brady, too, you know. A lot of guys really get their manhood called into question when stuff like this happens. It’s like, every other dude can do it, why can’t I?”
“Do you want kids?” I asked.
He laughed. “Not anytime soon,” he said. “Or maybe ever.”
The wine was going down quickly, and I felt its effects settling in. We continued to talk, and he confided in me that the reason he didn’t think it would work with Denise was because she wanted to settle down and have a family.
“That’s just not my speed,” Austin said calmly. “At least not yet. I’ve still got a lot of tread to burn and a lot of rabble to rouse, you know what I mean?”
“I get it,” I said. “And I’ll get another bottle of wine.”
Austin laughed. “Sounds good, Sis,” he said, leaning back on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table.
“Don’t call me that,” I said. “Call me Gabi. Sis makes us sound like we’re related.”
“Ew, well, we don’t want that, do we?” He laughed and tossed a pillow at me; it fell far short. He shook his head and clicked the TV on, switching it to a music station on his satellite.
From the kitchen I looked over at him on the couch. Austin was a catch, even with the troubles he’d had in the past and apparently planned to continue to have in the future. He was a big guy, 6’4”, but he was slender and muscular. He loved working on cycles, and his hands were large with just the tiniest bit of motor oil tattooed permanently around his finger nails. His hair was gleaming black and shining in the light from the room, but he also had blue eyes so striking I envied them. I felt warmth begin to spread through my chest and down into places it definitely shouldn’t, not just because I was married, but because, though Austin and I weren’t technically related, the word ‘brother’ was in his title.
He smiled at me as I brought the new bottle over. I looked into his eyes and saw in them a heat that only made the temperature in my body rise.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice gravelly, as I poured him a fresh glass.
I sat next to him, our knees touching. I held up my glass. “To us,” I said. “And to all the tread we have to burn.”
We clinked glasses and I must have clinked a little too hard, because some of the wine from my glass splashed out onto my leg and the couch.
“Oh shit!” I said, moving back. I began to wipe at the couch, a black leather couch, thank goodness.
“It’s okay,” Austin said, “don’t worry about it.” He got up to get a towel and came back, setting it between us. I grabbed it and wiped furiously at the couch. I didn’t know if it was going to stain or smell like wine or what, but I didn’t want to ruin his couch.
Austin grabbed my wrist and held it. The firmness of his grip surprised me and I felt a surge of arousal move through me. I stopped with the towel; I had no choice, and looked at him. He leaned in, his eyes smoking, and he brought his lips to mine. His lips were full, warm, and I tasted the wine on them. Exploratory at first, as I began to kiss him back, his lips grew more insistent, and his tongue found its way into my mouth. This is wrong, one part of my brain was shouting. But another part of my brain, and the rest of my entire body, didn’t care.
He released my wrist and brought his hands to my hair, cupping his hands around my jaw and ears, massaging my neck as we kissed. I put my hands on his chest. I could tell from the heat of his body that he was just as aroused as I was.
“Gabi,” he whispered. “You taste so good.” He leaned in and I slid underneath him, until he was lying on top of me on the couch. The wine gave everything a smooth, warm haze, and I felt like we were moving in slow motion. He continued to kiss me and I could feel his cock, hard and insisting, against my leg.
He pulled away just long enough to lift my t-shirt off over my head. I hadn’t bothered to put on a bra because I thought I’d just be going to bed, so my breasts were the first thing he saw. He smiled in appreciation and hunger, then turned his attention to my breasts. My nipples were hard, ready for his lips, and he cupped both my breasts in his large hands and began to kiss my nipples as he massaged my flesh. I shifted my hips under his; I wanted him. I couldn’t believe how much.
I began to slide off my yoga pants; of course I hadn’t bothered with underwear either. Austin took a moment to pull his jeans off. I learned in that moment that he went commando on his date. His cock was enormous; it was the biggest I’d ever seen, and I felt a shiver of excitement imagining how it would feel inside me, stretching my muscles and pleasuring me. I smiled. He lifted my right leg and rested it on the back of the couch. I put my other leg on the coffee table, spreading my legs to him. He gazed into my eyes as he put his fingers to my pussy, checking to see if I was ready for him. Of course, I was soaking wet… definitely ready.
He was hard as a rock, and when he entered me, the sensation of his cock in me was one of being filled up completely—but not just physically. Being filled up with every need I’d ever had being fulfilled in an instant. He began to thrust against me, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I kissed his neck, holding on for dear life as he ravaged me. The pleasure was immeasurable; I could barely breathe for it. I knew I was breathing because I could hear myself gasping and moaning each time he drove into me. With each thrust, his pubic bone rubbed against my clit, and I felt myself getting ready to cum.
“I’m close,” I whispered between gasps. He began to move faster, faster than I could imagine, like lightening inside of me, and as I felt the waterfall of my climax, he grew rigid and grunted, and then he came in me. Hot liquid surged into me and, for a moment I had the ludicrous thought of the spilled wine and his cum mingling on the couch. We continued to move together, my orgasm waning in the continued motion.
He pulled out and smiled at me. “You are the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
“Likewise,” I said, and I meant it. I couldn’t believe it… the chemistry, the intensity of my orgasm. Hell, the fact that I’d even had an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened in too long a time.
I got up and went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I looked in the mirror and it was only then that the regret hit me full force. The realization of what I had just done. I hadn’t realized that my attraction to Austin had been growing over time… I’d just always thought he was a nice guy and a great… stepbrother. The word clanged in my head. I just had sex with my stepbrother.
I came out of the bathroom and looked at him, shaking my head.
“We cannot do that again,” I said.
“Huh,” he said as he walked past me to go into the bathroom. “And here I was thinking we should do it again in another hour or so.”
Chapter Four
I walked into my house and Brady was there waiting for me. He stood in the kitchen at first, but walked over to me when he saw me pulling my suitcase through the door.
“Hey babe,” he said, kissing me and grabbing my suitcase. “Let me take that.” He looked at me, checking in to see how I was doing. If I was still angry. I wasn’t.
I smiled, happy to be home. I’d stayed at my mom’s for three nights, but only with Austin for two of them. Brady put the suitcase down and hugged me. I wrapped my arms around his familiar frame and felt my body grow warm with my love for him.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Honey,” he pulled away, looking into my eyes. “I get it. We all need a break sometimes. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the toll this was taking on you. Let me bring your suitcase upstairs. There’s an envelope for you on the kitchen table.
I looked at him quizzically and walked to the table. There was a manila envelope there addressed to me. He didn’t bring my bag upstairs, but, rather, watched me open the envelope. I opened it and out fell two boarding passes to Cancun, the flight leaving later that afternoon.
“Honey!” I exclaimed. �
��What…?” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“We’ll change out what you have in here for some shorts and bikinis, and we’ll be on our way in just a few hours.” He walked over to me and kissed me. I kissed him deeply, and, as his tongue explored my mouth, I met his with mine. I hugged him and let my body fall against his.
“You are so good to me,” I said.
“I love you,” he said. “And I want more than anything for you to be relaxed, happy, and fulfilled. When all of that happens, I know that a baby will follow soon after. And, I think we should try for that baby a lot while we’re in Cancun for a week.” He grinned at me and raised his eyebrows.
I laughed. “Let’s go pack; by the look of this flight time, we have to get going pretty quickly.”
We packed and called a cab to take us to the airport. We hadn’t planned on checking anything, which made the trek through the airport pretty fast. I slept through most of the flight, finding myself suddenly quite exhausted. While I was awake, I kept my eyes closed anyway so I could think about Austin and what I was going to do.
We landed smoothly and Brady led me outside. I had never been to Cancun, and the craziness of customs, the lights and music from the duty free shop, and the masses of people selling timeshares was overwhelming.
“Come here, love,” he said, pulling me to the left. There was a car there with our last name on it, and I looked at Brady. “I hired a driver for the week,” he said simply. “That way we don’t have to worry about cabs or renting a car.”
Our driver’s name was Juan, and he had lived in Cancun his entire life. He described some of the touristy spots we could visit, and he also gave us a list of a few lesser-known places where we could get a feel for the true culture of Mexico. He recommended we visit a cenote nearby, and even suggested some ruins to the south of Tulum that he said we could drive to if we wanted to take an afternoon and drive a few hours.
“I’m at your beck and call,” he said as he dropped us off at the resort, which was actually quite a distance away from Cancun proper. We got closer to the ocean and I felt my heart lifting.
Romance: Seducing The Quarterback Page 66