Skin to Skin

by J. M. Stone

  I cleaned it up quickly after he smacked me across the face, vile words burning my ears as he swore at me while I worked. I winced as a small shard of glass sliced into my finger when I went to pick it up, pulling it out and then staring absently at the drop of blood welling to the surface.

  “Stupid fucking cunt, can’t even clean anything up without fucking shit up more! Get up and get a bandaid on it now before you get blood all over my kitchen!” Greg screamed at me.

  Tossing the small sliver of glass onto the pile, I swept it all up and deposited in the trash can, putting the broom and dustpan back away before I started to leave the kitchen for the bathroom to get a bandaid.

  “Where the fuck you think you’re going?” he yelled behind me from his seat at the table.

  “To—to get a bandaid-” I stuttered.

  He shook his head vehemently at me and pointed to my purse, sitting on the counter by the back door. “I know you have a bandaid in there, you prissy little bitch. You don’t need to the leave the room. I want you here where I can see you so you don’t destroy any more of my shit.”

  I closed my eyes and walked to my purse, pulse pounding. He never got in my purse. Ever. I don’t know why, but that’s something he’s never checked, never thought about until now. But today, there was something in my purse that I was hiding, something that had to be kept a secret at all costs. That secret was what prompted me to finally make the decision I made standing in the bathroom earlier that day.

  I unzipped my purse and fumbled carefully inside for the small first aid kit I’d always kept in there, holding my breath as pure, unadulterated fear shot through every cell of my body. I pulled it out and zipped my purse back up, letting out my breath slowly in relief as I turned away from it, moving to the table to pull the bandaid out and wrap it securely around my finger.

  I glanced at Greg surreptitiously from the corner of my eye and flinched reflexively when I saw him watching me carefully, suspicion beginning to crawl across his features.

  “You’re being very pleasant this evening, bitch. Other than that glass your clumsy ass broke, you’ve been on your best behavior like you’re supposed to be. Should I be worried?”

  I shook my head at him, knowing that he was gearing up to explode and wanting to avoid it at all costs. I knew that it didn’t matter if I was the perfect little robot for him every second of every day, he was never going to be happy anymore, he was always going to look for the excuse to punish me.

  He nodded and breathed, “Ahhh…I know what it is. Greg hasn’t given you any good lovin’ lately, has he?”

  I gulped, knowing things had just taken a turn for the worst.

  “Let’s play tonight, shall we?” he asked. He tapped his finger to his chin as I stood, mutely, at the side of the table. “How about you be my little whore tonight, huh? Dress you up like a fuckin’ hooker and make you do every dirty thing I can think of…maybe I’ll call Amber up and make her sit on your face while I fuck you?”

  His eyes glazed over, breath beginning to come in pants, and his hand slid down to rub against the bulge behind his zipper. “Yeah…but first, I wanna fuck your face and I want to see your whorish mouth painted red while I do it. Give me your purse.”

  “Wha—what?” I stuttered in shock. The blood in my veins froze when I realized my mistake.

  His face turned a mottled red and purple with rage. “You fuckin’ questioning me? I told you to do something, you bitch, and you have the nerve to question it?” he roared.

  “N-n-no, Greg, I wasn’t quest-questioning you…I swear! I just-I don’t have any lipstick in my purse!” The words were tripping off my tongue and the panic was swelling like a tsunami inside me, threatening to crash down and drown me under the tide.

  “I’ll check for myself, bitch. I know you’re lying to me…you always lie!” he screamed, jumping to his feet so quickly that the chair he was in tipped back and crashed to the floor.

  He jumped toward the end of the counter and grabbed my purse, unzipping it and unceremoniously dumping the contents across the kitchen table. He started rifling through it, picking up my lip gloss and shaking it in my direction.

  “See? You did lie, you stupid bitch. And you’ll pay for--” his words cut off as his breath caught sharply. He gingerly picked something up off the table and, whispering, said, “What is this?”

  He turned to me, rage growing in his eyes, making them widen and darken. In his hand was the pregnancy test that I’d taken two days ago…and it clearly indicated a positive result.

  “You’re pregnant?” he roared.

  I could only nod my head…

  “Chloe?” my mom said, softly.

  I started, realizing that I’d stopped speaking as the memories played like a movie through my mind. I swallowed thickly, taking a moment to gather my courage to tell them my dirty secret. To tell them how I failed my unborn child…

  “What happened, Chloe?”

  Brandon asked that question, his voice raw but gentle. I blinked at him owlishly for a second, then blurted, “He made sure I wasn’t pregnant anymore.” I stood up slowly and raised my shirt, tucking it just under the edge of my bra as I pushed my pants down just enough to show them the scars marring my lower abdomen.

  I heard my mom’s shocked cry ring out, along with gasps and varying swears from everyone else as they put two and two together.

  With a steadying breath, the rest of the story came out. “He went crazy, telling me that I ruined his life, that I had cheated because there was no way he’d gotten me pregnant. Of course, he used other words, but…you get the idea. He-” my voice cracked; I cleared my throat and tried again.

  “He said he couldn’t stand a bastard child, so he grabbed the butcher knife from the block on the counter and stabbed me twice in the stomach and once in the thigh. He cut me open and then he beat me. He left to go get drunk because I pissed him off and I was able to call the squad, but just barely. He managed to miss anything vital, with the exception of my uterus. Of course, I lost the baby…I stayed in the hospital for four days and then checked myself out against doctor’s orders because I just couldn’t stay there anymore, came to Ohio, and the rest was history.”

  Allie spoke up, her voice thick with tears and pain. “So when you came here, you hid most of your injuries from us, didn’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. She knew the answer. She gave a soft sob and clutched at my brother, who was sitting there like stone, literally vibrating with fury.

  I nodded. “I had fifty-two stitches in my stomach total, and thirteen more in my upper thigh where he buried the knife to the hilt, before he left. He left me bleeding out on the floor, and he killed my baby. I was about eight weeks along, as far as they could tell. They found him at the bar down the street, actually passed out in the bathroom stall with a needle in his arm and arrested him.” I shrugged and spread my hands out in front of me, indicating that that was it.

  My story was done. It was finally out, all of it.

  They were all staring at me, horrified. But it was actually cathartic to get it all out, finally, to quit hiding the hell I lived for too long.

  “My babygirl,” Mom whispered. She reached out and pulled me into her arms, cradling me like I was a little girl once more. She kissed my head and sobbed into my hair until I heard shuffling.

  She squeezed me again and then, suddenly, I was airborne, crushed against my brother’s chest. He hugged me tightly, apologizing repeatedly to me, though he had nothing to apologize for. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks but I felt lighter, freer.

  A gruff voice said, “Jacks,” and I was passed into Luke’s arms. He did the same as Jackson, holding me, kissing me on my forehead, and then…

  There was Brandon. He held me to him, kissing the top of my head gently, and then sat me back on my feet, steadying me briefly before he turned on his heel and barreled out the door. I heard him calling for the dogs just as the girls converged on me.

  After a while, Allie sent Jack
son out to get a couple buckets of chicken, which was her new craving, for all of us. The mood had finally lightened after everyone had bombarded me with questions, initially. Brandon still hadn’t come back inside, but he was still here because his Expedition was in the driveway.

  Luke eventually went out to check on him; he paused beside me, his hand cupping my cheek as he whispered, “We’ve got you. Always. Got it?”

  I gave him a shaky smile and nodded before he walked outside.

  Chapter 11

  Brandon was silent on the way home when we finally left.

  We’d eaten chicken and laughed our asses off when Doug absconded with a chicken strip box that was, unfortunately, placed too close to the edge of the table.

  There was only two strips left in the box, thankfully, but I think the thing that made it the most comical was the fact that Doug took so long getting himself settled that the puppies had managed to duck their heads in the box and each scarf down a strip. When poor Doug finally poked his head in for his stolen treat, he got nothing but crumbs stuck to the end of his nose.

  Before we left, Allie had pulled me aside, Emma and Leah hot on her heels, and asked me what had happened with Brandon. I just told them that we were trying to figure things out. I just didn’t feel like going into details right then, and plus, they were talking about having a girls’ night soon, so I figured I’d be forced to spill then.

  We pulled into the driveway and sat in the darkness, which seemed to be a thing with us. I leaned my head back against the headrest and waited him out, knowing that he was working things through in his mind.

  Finally, the silence was broken by his words, low and throaty with emotion.

  “I’m trying so hard to hold on to my sanity, right now. All I keep seeing is your face and the way you were holding yourself the day you showed up at the house. We should have seen it, we should have been there for you, Chloe.”

  I reached over and clasped his hand in mine as I said, “You were there for me, Brandon. You all were when I needed you. It’s my fault for letting it happen for so long, for not being the strong woman my mom raised me to be. There’s no way you would have known because I didn’t let anyone know.”

  “Oh, Bullshit, Chloe!” he howled, anger twisting his features. “None of this is your fault and you better get that through your thick head! You didn’t ask him to beat your ass and almost kill you, did you?”

  At my indignant denial he continued, “That’s right, you didn’t. But you were scared and didn’t want to make things worse than they were. What if you’d tried to leave before then and had gotten caught? What if you’d never gotten away from him at all? What if he’d killed you?”

  His voice was gravelly and raw, his face tortured in the dim moonlight filtering through the windows of the vehicle.

  Surprised to find that my voice was clear and steady, I replied, “I’ve had enough what-if’s in my life to last me a long time, Brandon. I’d like to leave that in the past now that I’ve gotten everything out. He didn’t kill me. I’m alive and I’m here…with you. And there’s no where else on earth that I’d rather be. But, just to make sure we’re on the same page here and there’s no more flip-flopping from you…”

  He shot me a droll look and I smiled at him.

  “Is this a thing? You and me?” I asked, carefully. I know we’d already confessed our feelings to each other, but hell, a lot has happened since then. I guess I just wanted to give him an out. Just in case.

  He jerked his head toward me. “Seriously, Chloe?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “Well, I just need to make sure, Brandon. You’ve been so hot and cold and-”

  He sighed. “Let’s go.”

  Without another word, he got out of the truck. He waited on me to follow, but still didn’t speak as we went inside. Once the door was shut and locked behind me, I found myself pushed back against the door, Brandon’s body pressing against me from the front, leaving no space between us.

  His lips hovered over mine, so close but not touching. “Baby, I told you that I was falling in love with you. If you think I just throw those words around, then you don’t know me at all. I told you you were mine, and that’s that. It’s you and me from here on out, sunshine. Got it?”

  I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until it rushed out on a gasp. I barely got the word ‘yes’ out before Brandon captured my mouth with his, plundering with his tongue, nipping at my lips with his teeth, and then soothing the slight sting.

  I moaned when he lifted his lips from mine, desperate to keep him close to me. He chuckled and wrapped his hands around my waist, lifting me up so that my legs clasped around his waist and my arms wound around his neck. He brought his mouth back to mine, kissing me deeply as he walked us down the hall to the bedroom.

  He flipped on the light and laid me on the bed, the look on his face almost daring me to protest the brightness of the room. My chin rose, the small act of defiance instinctual, but he only shook his head once, letting me know that he wasn’t going to let me hide this time.

  I didn’t want to hide from him anymore. It was pointless anyway; he knew my secret now, he’d seen my scars. I sat up and stripped my shirt off over my head, my eyes never leaving his face. His gaze immediately dropped to my stomach, as I figured they would. It still flustered me a little, but I busied myself by stripping off my bra, and then making short work of my jeans and panties.

  Brandon watched every move, his eyes sliding over every inch of my body, the heat of his gaze moving over my skin like a caress. He knelt on the bed beside me, his hands reaching out to slide over my stomach. His fingers gently traced the lines of my scars, his touch barely a whisper over my skin, and then I gasped as his lips and then tongue followed.

  He kissed my scars, seeking out every mark on my skin, pressing his lips to each one and telling me, as he showed me, how beautiful I was to him. Tears sprung to my eyes, not sad ones, no, but tears of relief, of happiness.

  His lips found their way back to mine, but instead of plundering, they sipped, sweet, tender kisses that stoked the flames of desire at a slow and steady pace. His hands slid up my sides to cup my breasts, cradling the full, tender globes in his palms as he swiped his thumbs over the pearled tips.

  I hissed at the sensation of pleasure/pain when he pinched the turgid tips of my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers and plucking them, making me arch and moan. I cried out when his fingers abandoned their play, but moaned once more as his lips closed over my stiff peak, his teeth lightly scraping before he sucked hard and then laved it with the flat of his tongue.

  His hand slipped back down my stomach and his fingers found my wet center, deftly parting the slick folds and sliding deep inside. He hooked his fingers and rubbed them over the hidden sweet spot there, relentlessly driving me to the brink of release in seconds. It shimmered before me, that beautiful rush of pleasure, but he stopped just before I went over.

  I grunted in frustration and thrust my hips up, trying to force his fingers to move once more, to take me up and over that edge. He denied me, instead slipping his fingers out of my clenching heat, bringing them to his mouth. He tasted me on his own skin, his eyes locked on mine.

  A tidal wave of desire crashed over me, curling throughout my body, and I could see the answering heat in his gaze. Suddenly, the control he was so tightly clinging to snapped and he was over me in a flash, his hands pressing my thighs wide as the swollen, rock hard length of him pushed inside, driving deep, not stopping until I was fully impaled.

  “God, you feel so good, Chloe…” he froze, the words dying on his lips as his eyes widened.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, confused by the sudden change in him. I shifted beneath him, my hips arching into his as I moved, and a guttural cry was torn from him, ending on a curse.

  “Condom,” he said, tersely, beginning to raise his hips to slide out of me.

  I could feel the hesitation in him when my inner muscles fluttered against his hardene
d flesh still buried deep inside me and I said, hesitantly, “I’m on the pill…and I’m good. Clean, I mean…I don’t…”

  He sank forward the tiniest bit, gaining back what little ground he’d lost when he pulled back and we both moaned.

  “I just- I’ve always used protection. Even with Allie unless it was in the…nevermind. I’m safe, too, but…are you sure?” he asked. He pressed into me again, the movement seeming almost uncontrollable to him, even as he hesitated.

  I caught his eyes, held them, as I answered, “Yes. I want to feel you. Brandon, I- oh, God, I love you. God help me, but I do.”

  His body moved over mine again and we were one, skin to skin, breath to breath, heart to heart. There was no space left between us, no way to tell where he ended and I began as his lips met mine in a seeking kiss, so soft and gentle as he began to rock into me, his hardened shaft plumbing my depths with leisurely strokes, his chest abrading my puckered nipples.

  Still kissing me deeply, he shifted once more, bring his hands up and sliding them underneath my back and up over my shoulders, cupping them in his hands, giving him leverage to pull me into his thrusts, every inch of him rubbing against me, creating delicious friction that sent white hot pleasure streaming throughout my body.

  It built and built, my nerve endings on fire, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain as his thrusts increased, his hips circling. Unable to contain it any longer, the dam broke, sending me flying into a free-fall of ecstasy. My hands slid across his broad shoulders, scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slickened skin, clawing him as passion-filled screams poured from my lips, muffled by his kiss. He swallowed them down, moaning against my lips and mingling our cries.

  He slammed home once more and wrenched his lips from mine as he came, bringing me again as he jerked inside me, the scalding heat of his release spurting deep. A guttural, ragged cry tore from his throat, twining with the sounds of pleasure still being wrung from my lips, echoing throughout the room.

  He dropped his forehead onto my shoulder, our chests heaving as we fought to catch our breath. After a moment, he lifted his head and, holding my gaze, he whispered, “I love you, too, Chloe. I fucking love you, too.”