“You probably felt ignored and neglected because of all the energy it took for them to keep him focused, didn't you? Was that when you began to smoke?”
“Yeah…” Brittany sighed, hugging a pillow to her chest, “At first it was to see what all the excitement was about. I mean, he was getting so much attention, and no one had any time for me. Then I found out that it helped me forget how much being alone hurt.”
“Did anyone ever say anything to you about it?”
“Nope. I guess it wasn't important enough for them to bother. I wanted them to see that I was hurting too, but they were too distracted with Brett.”
“I hate to say it, but your story is not an unusual one. Can you see that these were your choices, though? They didn't make you choose this path of destruction. You did it on your own.”
“I’ve wasted a lot of time and energy feeling sorry for myself, haven't I? I am so stupid.”
“No, baby. You are human, with human needs and frailties. You are learning fast, too. Not everyone reaches this place in their first two months of sobriety. I am also confident that things will work out with your parents, honey. You need to earn their trust again. And I am here for you. I promise.”
“Reed? I am really sorry about what I said earlier. About being a trophy wife. It was nothing against you. I swear.”
“I know. But until you realize your own self-worth, I have to keep my heart protected. I could easily fall in love with you,” Reed admitted quietly.
“I think I am afraid of the same thing. I told Brett that you would get bored of me after a while, and I didn’t want to risk being hurt either.”
“I would never grow bored of you. You are too spicy,” Reed smiled, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Lay back down.”
“Huh?” Brittany questioned as he gently pushed her to her back and watched her squirm as her tender bottom rubbed against the sheets. “I need to get you some Egyptian cotton 1800 thread count sheets if I ever have to lay in this bed with a sore bottom again.”
“I suspect that will happen on numerous occasions, so you might think about looking on eBay or something. Now hush. I just want to take a look at you from a different angle.”
Brittany flushed again as he peeled the sheets from her body and forced her heels up to touch the backs of her thighs, spreading her knees wide before him. She hid her face with her hands.
“Never hide from me, remember? Hold the headboard and do not let go, or you will return to the position across my knee,” Reed said firmly, positioning himself between her thighs and gently sliding his hands under the hot, swollen globes. His thumbs gently parted her pink lips, unfolding the flower that was quickly glazing over with sweet dew. He used his thumbs to stroke her folds, still not touching the protruding button that grew slowly before his eyes. He inhaled and then blew warm air against it, pleased to see her jump in response. Slowly, he brought his mouth closer to her, his tongue barely touching her clit. Brittany gasped, arching her back to receive more of his touch. He nibbled and pulled her soft folds, occasionally lapping up the sweet juices that flowed in a glistening creek every time he drew close to her. He parted her lips again with his thumbs, fully exposing the erect little clit to his view. Flattening his tongue, he started from her wet entrance and moved upward ever so slowly to the starving little nub, resting upon it with pressure that made her desire to both scream and squirm. Using the tip, he then gently traced around the button, barely brushing it with his lips.
“Oh God, Reed. Suck on it, for heaven’s sake! You are killing me!”
Reed chuckled, ignoring her demands. “Shhh, let me enjoy this time with you. You taste incredible, and I could drink from you forever,” he murmured, running his tongue slowly over her slit. “Had I known how intoxicating you were, I would never have wanted alcohol…”
Tears of need began to form in the corners of Brittany’s eyes as she clutched the headboard, her body begging for his lips to clamp around her aching nub. When she felt them close around it, she released a scream of both surprise and relief. Reed began to suck, pulling the hardened pebble of flesh between the back of his front teeth and the tip of his tongue, rolling it as he alternated between chewing, sucking and probing. Brittany felt as though she would rise to the ceiling, her back caught in an arch of pleasure that gave him full access to her. He plunged three long fingers into her pussy and made his final dive, nipping her clit with his teeth.
“Argh!” Brittany yelled, the climax shattering her very existence in the reality of the present world. No high had ever felt so intense, so vivid, so filled with absolute color. Her body soared through the plains of reality as the sparks flew from every nerve ending. One after another, tiny orgasms, like aftershocks, rocked her body. Reed continued to slowly stroke her with his tongue, waiting for her final approach down the runway of true ecstasy. His ministrations lessened as she sunk, exhausted, into the mattress.
“That, my sweet, is what a high is supposed to feel like,” Reed whispered in her ear as he leaned on the pillow next to her.
“I have never felt anything like that,” Brittany croaked, still trying to catch her breath. “It was like I was flying.”
“Can you sleep now? You look like you are ready to pass out on me.”
“What about you? Can I…?”
“No. I will let you know when I think the time is right. Good night and sleep well.”
Brittany closed her eyes as he kissed both lids and then brushed quickly against her mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and purred. She could easily get used to that kind of attention.
* * *
Brittany groaned as she rose the following morning. Every muscle in her body ached and her tail end felt like a giant bruise. Disappointed to see that Reed was not in bed next to her, she threw one of his white t-shirts over her head before tip-toeing down the hall. Peering into the guest bedroom, she saw a neatly made bed and no evidence of Reed. The smell of coffee led her down to the kitchen where Reed sat reading the paper, a large mug in hand. He was dressed for work.
“Morning,” Brittany said shyly, pouring herself a cup of the fragrant brew.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?” Reed asked pleasantly, watching her as she bent over to get the creamer out on the lower shelf of the refrigerator. Her bottom was darkly marked with peppered bruises.
“Can’t remember. I was asleep,” Brittany remarked, leaning against the wall as she lifted the cup to her lips. “You?”
“I had…uh, issues,” Reed grinned, glancing down at his crotch. “But I did fall asleep eventually.”
“I told you I would have loved to take care of your ‘issues’, silly.”
“You know my feelings about that right now. Go throw your clothes on, and I will take you home. They are in the bathroom upstairs.”
“I really don’t think I can survive wearing jeans right now. Do you have a pair of boxers I can borrow?”
“I do, but you need to learn that snug jeans and hard chair remind a well-spanked bottom to behave herself.”
“You’re mean.”
“So I’ve been told. I want you to do some research for classes today and let me know what you find when I come home from work.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow. I just wanna rest today.”
“Nope. And you will do all the chores Brett gives you as well. If you get bored, what should you do?”
“Take a nap?”
“That is one option if your work is all done, including the school research. You are still grounded, so respect Brett's restriction. You can come here and do some gardening if you want, or find something to bake for dinner tonight. Just call him and let him know if you are leaving the house. If you feel tempted to take a hit…”
“I will call you or Brett immediately,” Brittany said quickly, her hand unknowingly reaching behind her to rub.
“Good girl. Go get dressed and meet me down here in ten minutes.”
Reed bit his cheek as Brittany wiggled and squirmed during the f
ive minute drive to Brett’s house. He had never seen her exit a vehicle so quickly either. Brett greeted them outside, hugging his twin tightly.
“How did everything go last night? Are you okay?” he asked his sister.
“Yeah. I learned the difference between saying no and saying maybe…”
“What does that mean?” Brett looked confused.
“I’ll explain later,” Reed harrumphed. “Do you have chores for her?”
“Some. I thought she was gonna stay at your place.”
“Only through the night. Britt? This means you have plenty of time to research and call schools. Ask about scholarships and grants as well.”
“I was thinking that Daddy…”
“No. This will belong to you and only you. I am trying to convince her to go to culinary school,” Reed explained to a confused Brett.
“I think that is an excellent idea. Maybe learn how to cater. You can make a lot of bucks if you are any good, and we already know she’s incredible. Also doing wedding cakes.”
“I didn’t think about that. I would probably like pastry work,” Brittany sounded excited about the idea.
“And we will get nice and fat as she practices on us!” Brett grinned, patting his stomach. “Well, kid, gotta run, be good today, okay?” he added as he planted a quick kiss on her cheek. Reed waited until Brett left the house before pressing his own lips to hers.
“Yes, please. Be good. I don't want another night like last one anytime soon.”
“Me neither,” Brittany lowered her eyes, “at least, not like the beginning…”
After the two drove off, Brittany entered the house, skimming the jeans from her body before closing the front door. Her cool hands pressed against her still warm backside, and she flinched. If Reed was this tough on her for something she considered so minor, how would he be if she really screwed up? On the other hand, he had showed nothing but caring and concern, even during the worst part of the evening. Brittany wrinkled her brow, rethinking her belief system. Would he be good for her? Yes. Even with limited income, she knew he would treat her well and love her passionately. That truly wasn’t her concern, though. She would not be good for him. He deserved so much better than someone like her.
* * *
Brittany had settled into a deep depression by the time the men came home that evening. She had done her chores, including researching the possibilities for culinary school. She had even discovered that a nearby college gave major discounts and scholarships for family members of military and law enforcement personnel. But Brett immediately noticed her change in demeanor.
“What’s wrong, sis? Did anything happen today?” he asked, hugging her and not receiving the typical pinch in the side.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Dinner is in the oven if you guys are hungry. I made Chicken Picatta.”
“That sounds delicious. Did you get a chance to look up class information like I asked you to?” Reed questioned, kissing her cheek. She turned away from him and walked silently into the kitchen.
“What did you do to her?” Brett asked, bristling. “I have never seen her like this.”
“Nothing that should have brought on this response. I’ll go talk to her. She reached some understanding last night, and it might be weighing on her mind. You know how that goes. It's never fun.”
Reed entered the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Brittany from behind, planting a quick kiss on her neck. “Wanna talk? Something is bothering you and keeping it to yourself is not healthy.”
“I just realized something today, okay? No big deal. I will work it out myself,” came the return comment.
“Don’t get snarky on me, girlie. What’s eating you? Besides me?” Reed asked with a half-smile, causing a slight blush to rise to her cheeks. Brittany pushed him away and ran upstairs to her room, slamming the door shut. Reed walked steadily after her, raising his hand to prevent Brett from following. Gently knocking on the door with his knuckles, the tall man leaned into the frame as he listened to the sniffling on the other side of the door.
“Britt, open the door for me. No hiding, remember? Please?”
The door slowly opened, and he walked inside, closing it quietly behind him. Sitting next to her on the bed, he pulled the crying girl into his arms and held her tightly, rocking her soothingly. Her body was hot against his as she spilled forth her fears, vulnerabilities, hopelessness, and sense of worthlessness. Reed listened carefully, trying to decipher what was truly bothering her. The only common factor was that she kept bringing his name into the deluge of statements.
“Brittany? Honey, this is not about me. It is about you and your healing. Please…”
“All my life,” she sobbed, “it has been about me. What I want. What I need. Me, me, me. I hate who I am and what I’ve become. I don’t deserve to even have a friend like you.”
“Self-pity is not very becoming, darling. You deserve more than you can imagine. You just have to learn the difference to deserving something verses being entitled to it.”
“Ouch,” Brittany said, leaning in the crook of his arm as he stroked her back.
“Ouch is right. Most of us addicts seem to believe that we are entitled to unconditional acceptance once we clean up our acts. And then we get angry when we don’t get it. That anger gives us the excuse to return to our old behaviors and have someone to blame for them. I learned that the hard way, as you know. In your case, you were raised in an environment of entitlement. It will just take some mental adjustments to show you the difference.”
“I really don’t deserve to have someone like you in my life, Reed. I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”
“Let me have some say in this, okay? Go wash off your face and come downstairs and join us for dinner. We have a meeting tonight, remember?”
“Must we go to every one of them? Five nights a week…”
“Might be the very thing that keeps someone like Carl from relapsing,” Reed interrupted. “Plus, you are at the point that you need as much support as you can get. You need to find your voice so that you can learn to say no to temptation. Learn to speak up and proclaim your value.”
“I won’t be able to sit still. My… my rear-end still hurts terribly,” Brittany admitted quietly.
“Good. That means I was thorough and hopefully won’t have to be that severe again. Do as you are told and come downstairs. You have five minutes.”
Brittany sighed and slowly stood to obey. Reed pressed his lips against hers, his mouth taking possession of her. He tasted the remnants of the salty tears as his lips traversed across her soft cheeks and eyelids. He hated to see her cry.
“Five minutes,” he reminded her softly, leaving the room.
* * *
Brittany fidgeted through the meeting, drawing Kraus’ attention and eliciting annoyed demands for her to keep still.
“Do you have ants in your pants, girl? Settle down! You are bothering the living hell out of me tonight.”
“Lay off her, Kraus,” another man said. “Can’t you see she’s been crying? What’s wrong, Britts? If I didn’t know better, it would seem like you got your buns fried.”
Brittany turned every shade of red as the men started laughing at the comment. She looked at Reed pleadingly. He simply raised an eyebrow.
Find your voice, she thought to herself. “Please don’t laugh at me,” Brittany said quietly. “You are right, Carl. I got my buns fried big time by my sponsor after we got home from the meeting last night. It was bad enough that I relapsed, but I also lost a major job opportunity because of it. Kraus, you told them to give me a good walloping, and Reed complied, okay? Now you all have something to really laugh about.”
“Holy shit! The cop paddled you?” Carl asked, stunned. He looked at Reed’s serious face, seeing him confirm with a nod. “Geesh, honey, I was just teasing you. I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Good for you, Simms! I’m not in the least bit sorry. She will live with a blistered ass, so don’t go givin
g her sympathy. Maybe she won’t do something so stupid again. Better a good spanking than death,” Kraus barked.
“I hope she won’t take that path again. It was not enjoyable for either of us,” Reed said softly.
“Hey, I’m all for that method. It works faster than jail time. Did you learn your lesson, girl?” Kraus demanded.
“Yes. I have no desire to smoke again at this point in time,” Brittany answered, face still red as she looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure he forgave you. I know the rest of us do,” Kraus commented gruffly, hugging Brittany abruptly.
“You are an old softy,” another man chuckled. “But he’s right. There is unconditional love and forgiveness here. We can’t rely on finding it outside of these walls, but here, it’s guaranteed. Without judgment. No teasing her about this, gentlemen. The poor girl has suffered enough embarrassment.”
“Thank you. I… Need to know that I can trust you guys, especially when I do something stupid. Brett? Are you still angry with me?”
“Angry, yes. But that does not mean I don’t forgive you. Part of the program is about making amends to those you have hurt because of your addiction, and you have done so.”
“Making amends and asking for forgiveness doesn’t always mean we get it, though. There are some people who will hold the pain we caused them against us forever. That is the hardest,” another voice piped in. “Forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconciliation, either.”
“Sometimes reconciliation isn’t wise. I would never want to reconcile with my ex. She still uses and would cause me harm if I regained a relationship with her. I just had to learn to forgive her and myself, and go forward without her,” Carl commented.
“What about reconciliation that won’t cause harm? Should it be attempted?” Brittany asked.
“Of course. Especially if it is with family and friends who can provide love and support. We should always try to make things right, but we also need to realize that it might not happen the way we want it,” Reed commented, eyeing Brittany suspiciously.
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