by Brynn Hale
“Hey baby, we need to change your diaper.”
The bleeding was part of the deal for her. But not for me. I almost felt like my dog had life better than me. She could have babies. She could reproduce her breed.
There were only a few people who knew my truth. My parents, who thought it made me unmarriable and they declared that they planned on me being alone forever. It was nice to hear them say that. Not. My best friend from college because I had to have surgery to alleviate my congenital malformation when I was a sophomore and she picked me up and took care of me. And Cole. Tequila was my friend, until one night it wasn’t. He didn’t seem to understand totally, but I figured through my blubbering, emotional state, he got the gist.
I’d have to be honest with any man before we got serious that I can’t have kids. Well, that’s not totally true. I can’t carry kids. I have ovaries, just no uterus. It’s called Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser syndrome or MRKH-affecting one in five thousand women.
Everything else down there was spot on, but just not that. So my eggs could be harvested and a surrogate used for pregnancy, but the expense and the giving up control to another woman to carry my child. I was too fucking stubborn. I’d resigned myself to no kids. Probably why I was okay with breeding Bella. Next summer, Bella, you’ll be a mommy. I rub her tummy.
“Okay, let’s see. What’s on the schedule today?” I really didn’t have days off per se. I just set a schedule for office hours for my coworkers and boss to call me and plan meetings, and then I went out and performed education and site checks for the organization as needed, both to the schools in northern Colorado and to the ranchers and citizens. There were plenty of people who didn’t understand the benefits of having a wide variety of animals in the ecosystem and that taking one out of the circle could have lasting effects. Today the calendar is pretty empty.
After getting my cup of tea and a breakfast burrito I premade and heated in the microwave of my apartment in Peacock Ridge, I sit at my computer. I send off a couple of emails and clean up some files. Maybe check Facebook, for about an hour. Soon my messenger app lights up on the screen.
Unknown: Want to get lunch?
Tilly: Tell me who this is and I’ll answer you.
Unknown: I’ll give you a hint. Your first kiss.
I recoil from the desk like my computer is on fire. How did he know?
Of course he knew. Not like he’s a virgin.
He’s probably kissed hundreds—okay, maybe not hundreds, at least I hope not—of people. I wouldn’t put it past Breck to not have kissed a dude, probably on a bet, but still.
I look down at Bella and she cocks her head in a questioning kind of way.
“What do I do Bella?”
She sits up and puts a paw on my hand.
I rock my rolling chair back to the desk.
My heart crashes against my chest.
Tilly: Maybe a second kiss after lunch?
Breck: I can do you one better.
The doorbell rings and I jump.
I run to the door and look through the peephole.
OMG. He’s here? What is he thinking?
I check myself in the small picture of the Rocky Mountains to the side of the door, using the glass for my reflection.
“Just a minute.” I try to make it sound like I’m far away, but I can hear Breck chuckle on the other side of the door.
When I think I’m tolerable—plain, but okay—I move my guitar out of the way behind the door and swing it open. “Hello?” I really don’t mean it as a question, but it definitely exits as one.
“Hello, sweetheart.” His stocking-capped head makes me want to reach out and remove it so I can see his amazing hair. So thick with a little curl.
I cross my arms, shielding the fact that I forgot that I’m not wearing a bra and with my chest a bra is a hundred percent needed. “What are you doing here?”
Breck’s chest rises and falls quickly as he brings his gaze back to my face. “We’re going to lunch. Get dressed.”
“Breck, I have to work and I haven’t showered.” I shake my head and my ponytail flips around to whack me in the face.
His hand reaches out and starting at the very end of the strands he winds my hair around his fingers, drawing me closer and closer.
“Tilly, I know you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
He leans forward, his breaths whispering on my face. “Tilly…” His brows rise.
I roll my eyes and do a little shake of my head. He has me. It’s like he knows me and my ways.
“Okay. Maybe a little scared.” My gaze searches his face for the truth. That he really wants this. “But it’s you. It’s me. It’s…”
“Scary. Yeah, I know, but I’m here. I want to be here. And not just for today or tonight.” He unwinds my hair as if he’s giving me space. But I don’t want the space. I want him to hold me and make me feel like I’m never going to fall ever again.
My legs weaken, like a week old cookie. Without the step from last night and my boots, I actually have to look up at him. I feel small next to his size. I slide a shaky hand up his chest, exploring and memorizing all the hard muscles underneath. His eyes close as I near his neck. Slipping my other hand around his waist, I tuck my hand into a pocket on the back of his Wranglers, using the grip I close the distance between our bodies with a quick tug of my arm.
He sucks in a quick breath. “Tilly…”
I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
An arm wraps around me and another feeds back into my ponytail, right where it should be.
I whimper as his tongue slips out and asks for entry into my body. I’m ready. I open slowly and he teases my tongue. I tease him back. My head floats away with the touch. It’s nothing like I expected. It’s sensual and intimate. My body heats low, pressure building, slickening between my legs. I moan into his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, tilting my head to his will in his large hand. My nipples harden until they’re almost painful. We’re not just kissing now; we’re meld our bodies into one. It’s beautiful. It’s inspiring. And it’s making me feel drugged. I’m going to be addicted to this man and I really think I’m okay with that.
He slows the kiss and pecks my lips once, twice, before placing his forehead to mine. “Jesus, woman, you’re like a volcano ready to explode.”
I move and my clit pulses. I shutter closed my eyes and whimper. “You have no idea.”
His lips brush my ear. “Do you trust me, Tilly?”
I swallow. If he’s wanting sex, I’m not ready…yet. I’m so close. So fucking close in so many ways, but I need to know for sure.
But it’s just a question, not a demand.
“I do, but I need you to know something.”
His face softens. “You have a secret…”
“Yeah. And it’s not easy to talk about.”
“Cole told me.”
My chest burns. “It wasn’t his to tell!” I push off of him as I feel slapped by his admission. “I’m the one who gets to tell…” My voice cracks. “It’s my life…my body.”
“Tilly,” he calls to me.
“I can’t believe he did that. And he calls himself a friend. How could he?” I throw my hands up. “Well, now that you know. I guess I want to know—”
“Tilly!”
“What?!” My chest heaves.
He crosses the room. “He said that you’re special and that he’s held your secret tight. He didn’t tell me the secret. I’ll listen to you, when you’re ready to tell me what it is. Until then just know that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m not sure it’s the right time. I’m not sure I’m ready. But I don’t want him going in thinking that we’ll have a traditional family. I don’t think he’ll just up and leave, but I think it’ll take time to process.
“I can’t have children. I have Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser syndrome or MRKH.”
“Well, that’s a mouthful. MRKH?” He repeats it. “MR
KH.” His eyes cloud. “Can’t conceive or give birth or…?”
“I don’t have a uterus.”
His hands slip into mine and he squeezes. I know he means the move to be sweet, but I’m too freaked out to truly feel his care.
“You do know what that means, right?” I ask. Because I can’t tell if he does and from hearing my girlfriends talk, there seems to be a large contingency of men don’t understand where everything actually is and what it’s for. A penis is a penis and testicles are testicles to them. I’m hoping Breck’s different, but I’m readying to give him a little Sex Ed lesson, if I need to.
“Yes, I know. It’s the organ where the baby grows. Without it…”
“Ugh…don’t ever say organ again. I hate that word.”
He chuckles. “Noted.”
“But yes…no conception, no birthing.”
“Do you still have… eggs?” His voice squeaks on the final word.
I giggle. He’s visibly uncomfortable and little part of me kind of likes it.
But Cole better be prepared to run the next time I see him. Although he didn’t actually divulge my secret. And maybe he was trying to protect me. He’s still getting punched in the gut.
“I do and they’re healthy.”
“Surrogate?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to think about right now.” I sigh and the weight of what this malformation really is hits me. It’s my voice being stolen in a different way. I don’t get to decide. I was sure I didn’t want kids until last night made me consider that I might. Until this man kissed me. Or I kissed him. I’m not positive, but all I know is I want to kiss him again and again.
“But you can still…have… um…sex?”
“Penis in vagina, penetration?” I ask, crossing my arms.
He nods, his face scrunched.
“I really don’t know. I still have all the other parts and…I know I can…” My face heats.
“Orgasm?”
I’m probably as red as the bulbs on my Christmas tree in the corner. I always loved the decorations on the ranch—they were homey and country. My tree is pitiful and homely.
“Yes.” I huff the word. It’s still hard to talk about even with how much I’ve had to talk to doctors about it. “And I don’t have a period. Ever.” That’s something I don’t think I miss, considering all the hell my girlfriends go through, and especially after having to change a dog’s diaper every six hours.
“Well, the orgasm thing is good news. I don’t know what to say about the period.” He clears his throat. “But I want you to know that I’m still in, Tilly. This doesn’t change how I feel about you. Sweetheart, thank you for telling me.”
“You’re sure?”
Instead of answering me, he kisses me. But this time it’s slow, flowing. Nothing insistent, just unhurried and relaxed. But my body is anything but relaxed. It’s on fire. I’m pulsing in parts that I didn’t know pulsed. I’ve masturbated, but it feels different being with someone. It’s putting faith in him to treat my body with respect and with the goal of pleasure, not pain. I’ve been through pain in my life. All I want is to feel good.
“That’s really great news.” His forehead presses to mine. “Baby, where’s your bedroom?”
“I won’t have sex, Breck.” I slide a hand down his face. “Not yet…” I can feel his heart pounding as my fingers brush his neck.
“I wasn’t even thinking of actual sex, I promise, Til.” I love that he shortens my name, it feels like he’s so wound up that he can’t even get out my whole name. Urgent. Suggestive.
“Down the hall, on the left.”
He bends his knees, slips his hands under my ass and lifts me.
“Breck!” I giggle, surprised and almost worried.
“Sweetheart, I got you. You said you trust me. Show me.”
I wrap my long legs around him, he kicks off his boots and starts off. Every step confident. The hallway passes quickly, but soon he stops and backs up. His eyes dart to a picture and I close my eyes.
I forgot. Shit. I crash my face to his shoulder to avoid him seeing my embarrassment.
“Nice painting. Not totally accurate, but close. You’ll see.”
Breck takes off again. In a few long strides, I’m being slowly lowered onto the bed.
I’d never imagined that any man could and would carry me to bed. It’s freeing and I laugh heartily as he leans over me.
“What’s so funny?”
“You just carried me to bed!” I scream out. My excitement bubbling over.
He smiles broadly. “Baby, I’ll carry you to bed every goddamn night if it makes you smile like that.”
I stare up at him as he lowers toward me. His lips start toward mine, but he detours and kisses my forehead, my nose, my chin, my jawline, my neck, lower. He lifts the bottom of my long-johns-style, long-sleeved shirt hem. I purse my lips as I assist by pulling it up and over my head.
No man has ever seen me naked, but I don’t look away from him. I want to see his reaction. It will mean so much to me to see what he thinks.
“Damn, Tilly.” He swallows and his eyes widen.
My chest is something to behold. 42FF—more than a handful. His hands cradle my large globes and he lowers his head, I can feel his breaths fast and hot against my nipples. They ache. They ache for him.
“Breck…” I moan as he envelopes a nipple in his lips, his tongue curling around the peaked flesh. He sucks lightly, learning my body and I’m thankful that he’s cautious. I don’t know what I like and don’t like with much of anything.
His left hand releases my breast and it’s making a path down my stomach. My brain is trying to process both his lips on my nipple and his hand making its way through my curly mound. The synapses crash against each other, igniting my body and sizzling every nerve ending. I writhe in the bed.
Lower.
Lower.
Lover. My lover. He’s now in a different place in my head…and heart.
I clasp his head as it follows his hand. Oh shit…
He tugs on the edge of my flannel pajama pants and I lift my ass so he can pull them down. I’m giving him permission to see me naked.
As much as I love the human form and paint it to celebrate it, it’s still difficult to do this. It’s bringing someone into my personal space. It’s allowing him to know me. And I’m worried he won’t like what he sees.
“Tilly, fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I cover my face with my arms. “Don’t say that.”
He pulls my arms away. “You. Are. Fucking. Beautiful. Say it for me, baby.”
I force down my panic. “I’m…I’m…beautiful.”
His hands clasp my face. “Again.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“Again for the people in the cheap seats.”
“I’m beautiful!” I cry out and in the blink of an eye, his mouth lands softly on my core. His tongue going at me like a starved man. Intense burning starts in my thighs. My stomach clenches. I grasp his head, guiding him, leading him to where I want him.
“Yes, tell me what you like, what makes you feel good.”
I tug him up to my clit. “Suck it.”
He wraps his lips around it and softly sucks.
“Harder!” I call out and he briefly chuckles releasing the hard nub, but when he returns he doubles the pressure and I’m done.
My body convulses as euphoric stars burst from my clit and through my body. I call out his name, insisting he doesn’t stop. My thick thighs clamp around his head and I dig my nails into his hair. He moans around me and I continue to pulse with an energy that I’ve never felt before—it’s both natural and magical, harsh and calming, and wild and grounding.
It’s love.
He slows and his tongue darts inside of my body, lapping all the juices that drip from my center.
“You taste like strawberries. I’ll never get enough of this.”
Thank God.
I rock my head in the bedding. But now what ha
ppens?
Do I… reciprocate?
“I’m good, sweetheart. I expect nothing in return.”
I lift my head. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “I think you’re in a little of orgasm daze.”
“Damn straight I am.”
“Do you feel…good?”
I push up to my elbows. “Are you kidding me? I think I forgot my name for about two minutes and I’m lucky I’m still in existence. I thought I was physically going to explode into a million pieces.”
“You were breathtaking. Seriously, best thing to watch ever.” I roll my eyes and he winks at me.
“Okay, I’m going to go clean up.” He motions to his glossy face and I chuckle.
“I should shower.”
“Now that sounds like a plan. I’m in!”
“Alone!”
He chuckles. “Okay…fair enough.”
I gather some clothes and when I step from my bedroom, he’s standing in the hallway, cleaned up. His long legs cross at the ankles and his gaze scorches me. I walk into the bathroom, making sure each step is accentuated by the swing of my hips. I feel sexy, uninhibited, empowered. Now he’s the one who is following me. I place my items on the counter and grab the edge of the door.
“I’m beautiful,” I say reaching out to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re gorgeous, Til. And baby, you never have to thank me for giving you what you deserve and want.”
He’s right. I need to speak up. I have a voice. Hell, I told him to suck my clit! Harder, even!
“Lunch?” I ask.
“Whatever you want.”
And with that I shut the door, but inside, one has just opened. And I’m walking through it with my head held high.
BRECK
We walk out of the Featherbone holding hands.
“I love that idea, Breck! And I’d love to help, any way I can. I can make informational booklets and website info. You name it and I’ll do it.”
I kiss her cheek. “Thanks. I’ll see what Cole and Luke think and once I have their approval, I can get rolling.” I glance toward the truck, but I skid to a stop. “Grace?”