“Well, if you'd like to stay, Melina, I'll pay the bill, of course. It's the least I can do after we waited so long to be together. The lamb here is excellent. Mother always orders the lamb.” He planted a quick kiss on her cheek and scurried off to his mother. Melina dropped her head in her hands. Ugh. She wasn't sure if she felt relief or ... well, relief.
She heard the rustle of the damned potted plant again. Brady poked his head through the thick, elephant-ear-shaped leaves. “Psst.” Melina turned to find him grinning from one big fat ear to the other. “Whaddaya say we have dinner together? Doesn't look like Alvin will be eating his lamb.”
Was screaming a no-no in the Emily Post rules for displays of appalling restaurant etiquette?
“Go away, Brady!” she groaned at him. Brady fought his way over the plants to come and sit directly across from her. He plopped his drink down on the wet tablecloth.
“What else do you have to do?” Brady inquired of her. “Meal is paid for, courtesy of Alvin, and here you are all alone. C'mon honey,” he coaxed. “When was the last time you were in a fancy place like this?” Melina snorted loudly, her lips curled into a tight knot.
“Well, Brady, it certainly wasn't with you, Mr. Let's-go-to-Bob's-Big-Boy-barbecue-it's-all-you-can-eat-night-babe.” She said sarcastically.
“Aw, c'mon honey, you know you love their ribs as much as I do,” he cajoled. “Besides you can't beat the price, at ten bucks a head.” Melina groaned, and guzzled more wine. How had she ended up with this knuckle dragger? Damn food better come soon or she was going to pass out from hunger and too much alcohol consumption. The light buzzing in her ears was becoming louder, and Brady was looking hotter by the second.
Whoa! Where the hell had that come from?Well, he does look good, her battered heart pointed out, and what's the harm in a little dinner?
Right, Melina confirmed mentally, it was just dinner. Besides, she was too tired to care, and the wine had mellowed her better judgment, she was sure.
Damn, he looked good. Her nipples began to tingle, chafing her bra. Girls, she silently warned, behave! She self-consciously folded her arms in front of her.Damn traitors. What did it matter anyway? Some evil force of nature was conspiring to literally drop her at Brady's feet. Why fight it, it was just dinner, right?
She cocked her head at him and said, “Okay, Brady, you win. But I don't want to hear a single snide comment from your Neanderthal mouth. Do you hear me?” she threatened. “Not a single, solitary word about the lamb. I happen to like lamb,” she finished smartly. Brady grinned at her and held up his hands in compliance.
“You won't hear a word out of this mouth, promise.” On that note the waiter arrived with their dinner. He shot a confused look at Brady's presence but silently placed Alvin's lamb down in front of him. Melina watched Brady's nose wrinkle, but to his credit he ate every last bite and didn't say a single word. She noted a grunt or two, but not a peep otherwise.
Melina felt a twinge of regret when dinner was over. She would blame it on the wine, she decided. What else could it be? Okay, so they had a laugh or two, taking pot shots at the waiter whom, she was sure, was thankful to see their tail ends when he escorted them out. Brady had been charming and agreeable; before she knew it, the warm tingle in her nipples had spread to her nether region and all points beyond.
If she were truthful, she'd admit that Bob's Big Boy probably would have been a more hearty dining experience, but even when Brady saw the miniscule portions he had kept any snide comments to himself. Melina was beyond caring by the time she poured the last drop of wine; she felt just fine, thank you.
As they walked to the dimly lit side street where Brady was parked, her legs were beginning to feel like rubber. He kept his hand at the small of her back, sending small electrical currents of slithering heat up her spine. And her damn nipples were liking it just a little too much.
In an effort to divert her thoughts from her ever-traitorous nipples, Melina began to rummage through her purse to find her cell phone and call a cab. Brady's fragrant cologne drifted to her nostrils, wreaking havoc with her last shred of common sense.
She could feel him behind her; his tall frame cast shadows on the dimly lit alleyway, making her shiver. Turning to ask if she could borrow his phone, she bumped directly into the hard wall of his chest and found her hands firmly planted on his shoulders. Brady tilted her chin upward; she ran a nervous tongue over her lips as she gazed into his hooded blue eyes.
He grazed her mouth lightly at first, lingering there. She felt her hormones jolt sharply in response. His warm, whiskey-scented breath fanned her cheeks and Melina leaned into him, allowing herself to revel in his warmth for a brief moment. She had indulged in too much wine, the effects of which were numbing the cautionary parts of her brain.
Letting her purse fall to the ground she slid her hands inside his suit jacket, resting them at his waist. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his solid frame. Her hips responded out of familiarity, molding tightly to his.
Instinctively, her head fell back on her shoulders. The dim glow of the street light reflected the soft curve of his lips. Melina heard him groan as he pressed another light kiss to her mouth, rimming her bottom lip with his silky, hot tongue.
Slanting his mouth over hers, he took gentle possession of her lips and the kiss became deeper, his tongue entwining with hers. Melina felt the dizzying rush of once-upon-a-time, a familiar sensation, but at the same time new and thrilling. Pulling her closer, he nuzzled her neck, nipping the tender flesh. Maybe they could just fuck with no strings attached, she thought wickedly. Sex had always been good between them, so why not?
Somebody's had too much to drink. Next up will be a rousing rendition of “I Feel Pretty.”
But her hands had a will of their own as they glided over his muscled abdomen. God, she had missed the warm familiarity of him. Lifting his shirt, she pressed her palms flat to the sleek satin of his belly, rippled and firm. She clutched wildly at him, kneading his flesh with greedy hands. Heat, white hot, bordering on pain, shot to her cunt. She felt the wet slide of her flesh ache and throb for his cock.
Melina's hands drifted to his zipper. She pressed the heel of her hand to the outline of the bulge in his pants; he was long, hard and straining to be free. Brady groaned into her mouth as she pushed at him, blindly pressing him to the cold brick wall.
He thrust her coat aside and ran a callused thumb over her nipple, tightening it painfully, pushing at her thin cotton shirt. She heard the rasp of his zipper from somewhere far off, and then felt the heat and length of his stiff cock in her hand. She caressed him, and need—unfulfilled for so long—tore through her inhibitions. In a daze of alcohol and throbbing desire, she lost all thought but the fierce need to drive every last inch of him into her throbbing cunt.
Boldly she whispered, “Fuck me, Brady! Right here, do it now.” She rasped the command urgently, licking at his lips. Had that been her wild, desperate plea? Melina couldn't think of anything but the hard length of steel that awaited her, and Brady's hands, hot and ravenous, touching her in places left neglected for far too long.
Brady pulled up her skirt and tore at the delicate material of her panties until they fell away. She reveled in the silky slide of his thick fingers as they separated her folds of flesh. He circled her clit, swollen and tender, and she gasped for air, gripping his wrist.
Cupping her ass, he lifted her off her feet, his blue gaze piercing hers, searching. Melina closed her eyes swiftly, refusing to think about anything but his cock. Her legs found his waist and wrapped tightly around him. Her thighs trembled as he held her firmly, and his luscious cock ground into her hot cunt, rubbing her clit to madness.
His voice was tight with restraint when he asked through clenched teeth, “Melina, baby, are you sure?”
Was that the voice of reason raining on her parade? To answer him would be to acknowledge an agony she had to deny to survive. Instead she hissed at him, “Just fuck me, Brady, put
your cock in my cunt and fuck me. Isn't that what you want, Brady, to fuck?” Her question was laced with traces of anger, but her need was more fierce.
He turned them so quickly her head fell backward, almost hitting the brick wall, but he cushioned it with his hands, brushing away stray tendrils of hair that clung to her face. Sensing his hesitation, Melina reached between them, firmly grasping his cock and impaling him with a force that took her breath away. She slammed her hips downward and felt the thick invasion stretch her, filling her so fully the slick walls of her cunt burned momentarily.
Brady cried her name on impact, and she began to tear at her shirt, pulling it open and rubbing her nipples against his broad chest. Reaching for his hair, she gathered thick, silken handfuls, clinging to him as he drove into her. Her heart slammed against her ribs with each stroke, fast and furious, long and wet, as he plundered her silken depths.
Brady found her lips. Crushing them, he assaulted her mouth with his tongue and gripped her waist tightly, forcing his cock to press deeper, thrusting his hips upward. Melina rode his pulsing length; nipping at his lower lip, she encouraged him, feeling so intensely wanton that it drove her to the edge of someplace unfamiliar, desperate and needy. It was almost frightening.
“Harder, Brady, fuck me harder! I want to feel it ... I need...” she gasped as he increased his tempo. Melina moaned brokenly as she leaned back, undulating her hips, ramming them harshly downward on his cock.
A flash of electricity rippled through her, coursing straight to her cunt. She clawed frantically at his shoulders as her clit scraped the coarse fabric of his slacks. With the force of a tidal wave, an orgasm ripped through her, stunning her with its sharp, stinging clarity. Brady's cock twitched violently in her, as hot streams of thick liquid washed the walls of her cunt.
He buried his face in her throat, his breathing harsh and labored. “God, Melina, I've missed you so damn much, honey,” he whispered hoarsely.
Melina's head shot up.Oh my God. Reality, cold and harsh gripped her heart. Her throat closed as she felt bile rise from the pit of her belly. Hot tears of humiliation threatened to fall. She pushed at his heaving chest, violently jamming her fists into him.
“Put me down Brady,” she ordered stiffly, feeling a deep loss as his still-hard cock slid from her, pulling his warm body away. The thick liquid of his release trickled down her thighs.
Near naked and exposed, the bitter air bit at her skin. Her head throbbed.What have I done?
Melina struggled to button the shirt that hung haphazardly from her shoulders, her fingers clumsily attacking the torn buttons. She distantly heard him zip up his pants as she fought to right her skirt. Her legs wobbled; she sagged against the wall for support and scrunched her eyes shut.
Alrighty then. What now, she asked her alcohol dazed brain. Her battered heart responded with cynicism.You fucked, so what? Big deal. You're an adult; you satisfied a need, and now its over. Order him to take you home, (it's the least he can do) and move on like it never happened...
Oh sure, hoookay. No problem, order him to take me home, behave as though nothing happened.He handed her a tissue from his shirt pocket. Melina swiped angrily at her thighs, wiping away the evidence.
“Brady, please take me home,” she heard herself say, nearly sobbing. Feeling his hands loosely grip her shoulders she shrugged him off, backing away, and putting space between them.
“Melina, talk to me. Please, honey.” A plea to talk? Funny, she remembered those very words coming from her lips, night after night when he sat in stony silence, while she begged him totalk to her. Her heart fluttered with remembered fear and frustration. There was no way she was going back to that hell. Her stomach clenched and her resolve strengthened.Home, I need to go home.
“Please, Brady ... take me home, I want to go home.” Melina heard her rising hysteria in her ears. Take me home before I crack up, she silently begged.
Brady's hand cupped her elbow as he led her to the truck. He stooped to pick up her fallen purse and opened the door for her, tucking her into the passenger seat with gentle hands. She watched in detached silence as he started the truck and drove.
The blur of lights passed as they sped through town. Her head wouldn't cease throbbing.Aspirin. I need aspirin ... and therapy.
When Brady pulled into the driveway, she scrambled out as quickly as she could, shoving the door closed with shaky hands. She flew to the house like the devil himself was nipping at her heels, and didn't look back.
Chapter 6
Pricilla high-fived Brady with a hearty slap the moment he entered the trailer. “Things are finally looking up, Partner.”
She squealed with delight. Thank you, Lord, she thought. She wouldn't fold like some blue haired grandma in Atlantic City; this was a fight to the end, and she wasn't leaving till they were living in the same household again. But before the bell sounded to end this round, she wanted to hear all the details.
“So whadidya do after I left?” Pricilla grinned, she wasn't allowed to hear all of the details, mission rule number twenty-two stated that clearly, but she would live with the general outline. Brady was not smiling at all.Uh-oh, somebody's not a happy camper.
“What's this puss on your face? Didn't ya get some time alone with her? I got rid of Alvin. Boy was that easy!” Pricilla snorted. “Whew doggie, and you thought you had it bad with me for a mother-in-law? Imagine that old crow for...”
“Enough, Pricilla,” Brady barked, cutting her off. “Just shut your yap and leave me the hell alone!” Pricilla bristled and waggled her red-tipped nail under his nose, frowning.
“Hey you listen to me, Cheeseball, don't you talk to me that way. I deserve some respect. Now right here is part a’ your problem, Bucko. You get all excited ‘cause ya can't find the words to say what needs sayin'. So you blow up with that temper of yours.”
Pricilla took a deep, calming breath and tugged at his arm, leading him to the couch like a child. Brady's shoulders were slumped as he reluctantly followed her. She pinched her nose to relieve the pressure building in her head and sent up a silent prayer for patience.
“Hookay, Pumpkin, now let's start again. You sit right here next to me and tell Pricilla what's wrong. I won't say word one till you're done.” Pricilla pantomimed, locking her mouth and throwing away the key.
Brady cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed. He squirmed. “Well, we ... Um ... we had...” Color shot to his face. Pricilla nodded her head rapidly with a knowing smile. Lips sealed tightly, she motioned for him to continue.
“No see, Melina ... Well ... She ... She got all pissed off ... After ... We...” He sighed, shaking his head, letting it fall to his chest in defeat. “Talk, Pricilla, ‘cause I just can't.”
Pricilla expelled a gush of air.
“Okay, Darlin', so a little hanky panky was had, right?” Brady nodded his head in consent, averting his face out of embarrassment. “Aw, c'mon, honey,” Pricilla assured him. “I know you doit. I didn't know you'd do it tonight, but, well ... never mind. I'm not allowed to know the details, so if you ain't givin’ ‘em, it's okay by me. Besides, you're married, and that's okay with the Big Guy, far as I can see. So what went wrong, my friend?” she asked. Brady looked at her with confusion. He didn't know any better than she did, she figured.
“Okay, tell me this. What happenedafter ya did it?” Brady cringed at that.
“She made me take her home, that's what happened.”
“Well if ya weren't at her house, and ya sure weren't here, where in tarnation were ya?” It dawned on Pricilla, like a big fat whack in the head.Duh! “Never mind, I don't want to know,” she told him with a snicker.
“This was the first time you two have ... since she kicked ya out, huh?” Brady nodded his head in consent. Pricilla patted his shoulder. “Aw, Brady ya gotta know it wasn't easy for her, but it's a step in the right direction for sure.”
Brady kicked his shoes off, crossing his legs at his ankles. He looked bone weary and unconvinced. Prici
lla thought about all of the ramifications this little tryst must have had on her baby, and then she thought about why she was here, instead of upstairs floating on a comfy cloud somewhere.
Which led to the obvious conclusion that Brady was a first class schmuck. Daggone him for doing this!
Pricilla's temper kicked into full gear, heat rising to the tips of her ears and bubbling out of the top of her head. She deserved some answers here.
She pounced on Brady. She needed to put the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind—even if He claimed she shouldn't question His bidding, she damn sure needed a reason not to. How could she support Brady and Melina reconciling, or continue to help for that matter, if she didn't understand what had gone so devastatingly wrong?
Treading carefully she asked, “Tell me, Cowboy, what got into you anyway?” Brady shrugged his massive shoulders, and avoided her gaze, instinctively knowing what she wanted the answers to.
“Well, that's just not good enough. I want an answer, and I want it before the cows come home. Save the strong silent thing for someone else. This is me you're talking to, remember, your very own guardian angel? Was she a horrible wife, crappy in bed?” Brady's face flushed crimson, right up to his eyeballs.
Pricilla ignored his obvious embarrassment and kept pressing. “What was it Brady? What made you run around on her?” Brady sat silently. She watched him trying to piece the words together, to form full coherent sentences.
“I ... I felt left out I guess.” He said that as if it made a world of sense to her. It was inadequate at best, and one of the lamest excuses in history.
“Oh, poor Brady.” Pricilla clucked her tongue mockingly. “What's the matter? The universe wasn't revolving around you, so you found some cheap tramp who thought it did?” Brady swore loudly, a string of expletives.
“You know what Pricilla, you've got a lot of nerve. You weren't exactly the Virgin Mary. You had more boyfriends than there are days in the year.”
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