Cut

by Bry Ann

  Mom smirks at Maria, then right as I’m walking out the door, turns to me and winks.

  Birds of a feather…

  And yup. I’m definitely going to need that luck introducing Maria to Mandi.

  Where’s a punching bag when I need one?

  24

  “Your mom is great, Brantley,” Maria mumbles outside the door of her hotel room. It’s the first thing she’s said since we left Mom’s house.

  I don’t respond right away. I take a second to study her, something I find I don’t do often enough with Maria. Maria’s eyes are downcast, and her shoulders are down and hunched slightly forward. She looks… dejected?

  I nod. “Let’s get you inside.”

  I slide the key into the door and usher her inside. Maria walks to the back of the room and starts taking off her earrings. Once the door is locked and the deadbolt is in place, I throw her bag across the room and turn to her with my arms crossed over my chest.

  “What’s bothering you? Something’s been wrong since we left my mom’s.”

  She shrugs noncommittally. “I never had a mom.”

  She quickly grabs the bag I threw and starts rapidly unpacking.

  “Maria.”

  Shirts fly everywhere. She’s not even putting them away. She’s just frantically throwing things around the room.

  “Maria.”

  The slam of a flat iron on the counter echoes in the quiet room. I walk over and touch her lower back.

  “Maria,” I whisper.

  It’s only then that I realize she’s sniffling. She’s crying?

  “I’m fine. Really. I’m fine. Bag’s here. You should go to your room and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy. You want to be rested for Mandi.”

  I slide my hand to the front of her head and rub her hair back.

  “Look at me, Maria.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Please.”

  Her shoulders straighten and she whips around.

  “I’m crying. There. Happy?”

  I feel my head shaking before I realize it is. “No. Not happy, woman. I don’t like seeing you cry.”

  The slightest bit of her hardness dissolves when I call her woman.

  “You miss having a mom?”

  “A mom, sure. But I don’t miss the bitch who birthed me!”

  My eyebrows raise slightly.

  “You make me weak like her, you know? I’ve worked so hard to be like my father, to shove these stupid feelings aside so I’m nothing like her.”

  She wipes her tears away with a slap of her forearm against her face.

  “But they keep slipping out. My dad was supposed to help me! Not make it worse. And you!”

  She points an accusing finger at me.

  “You throw it all to shit. You’re ruining everything!”

  Tears are streaming down her cheeks now. I can feel her heart break from where I’m standing, and it hurts. Worse than any punch. Any kick. Any knife. I remember how it felt when Clair rejected me. How badly I wanted to quit. How I almost did. And this is ten times worse because this is her mom.

  “Come here.”

  “You stay away from me.”

  “I can’t leave you like this.”

  “Oh god, please.”

  Her body starts to tremble as I get closer and wrap her in my arms. I cup the back of her head and hold her against my chest. Maria seems so tiny against me. Even with her personality and all her curves, against me, she’s small.

  “I’m sorry visiting my mom brought all this up for you.”

  Her fist connects with my chest. “It didn’t!”

  I step back so I’m about a foot in front of her. “Go ahead.”

  “What?”

  “Hit me.”

  She lifts her chin. “You better think that through. I’ll do it.”

  I smirk slightly, remembering the time I gave Lacey the same offer and she came at me.

  “I can take it.”

  “Fight back,” she says, before flying at me.

  I lift my chin right back at her. Unlike Lacey who had the decency to avoid my face and balls, Maria absolutely does not. She goes straight for my dick.

  “Woman,” I growl. “Careful.”

  She smirks. “Sorry, hun.”

  Her fist flies to my chest again. I let her have it. The next strike aims for my neck. I sure as shit block that one by grabbing her wrist.

  “Jesus, Maria.”

  “Shut up. You can take it.”

  Another strike. Another kick. Another strike to the chest. Face. Dick. I block nearly all of them, only letting her get the occasional hit in. I need to wear her out or I’d let her land all of them. Maria only fires more energy when she’s losing.

  Eventually, she starts to tire out. Her arms start to wobble. Her hits become further spread out. I barely have to lift an arm to block her shots. The last punch doesn’t even reach me. She reaches out but her arm goes to her knee and she hunches over, trying to take deep breaths.

  “Shit, that’s a lot harder than it looks. What is Lacey, an alien?”

  I smirk and make my way over to Maria, using her arm to seat her on the bed.

  “No, she’s hardworking.”

  “Oh, ha ha.” Maria scowls at me.

  “Not saying you’re not, woman. Just saying that’s how Lacey’s gotten so good. She started from a lower place than 99% of the population would have to. She deserves every ounce of respect she gets.”

  “I agree.” Maria’s serious then. There’s a firmness to her features that I respect.

  “Do you feel better?”

  She looks down at her lap. “Yes, I’m sorry for that. Your mom is just so awesome. I got jealous.”

  There was definitely way more to that outburst than jealousy, but no matter how curious I am, she’s not ready to talk about it. And I won’t make her.

  “Already forgotten.”

  There’s a flash of something I can’t catch in her eyes before she hardens and pushes to her feet.

  “Okay, well. Enjoy your night.”

  That’s my cue to leave. I should have left long before she gave that cue.

  “Night, Maria.”

  I don’t give her a second glance as I walk out the door.

  You’re ruining everything!

  Those are the words she said to me. And let me tell you, I couldn’t agree more.

  After the shower, I run through a quick workout. I guess it should have been the other way around, but fuck it. It’s literally been two days, yet I feel like such a piece of shit for not training. I’m used to not only training myself several hours a day, but clients as well. I’ve done nothing since going on this insane trip, and it’s catching up to me. Old insecurities I drown in grit, blood, and boxing bags are slowly creeping back in.

  I change my clothes and lie down on top of my covers with my arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling. I try my damndest not to think about the woman next door. I think of my amazing mother. How much I’m gonna miss her. How I wish I could stay longer, visit more. But any time I travel down a certain train of thought, it always flickers back to Maria. Her tears. Her open-hearted anger after hearing what happened to me. The genuine desire on her face…

  Fuck, I can’t do this!

  I don’t think she gets I’m just as lost as she is. Fuck the muscles, scars, and size.

  I throw my body off the bed and stomp toward our connecting door. One similar to the door at the other hotel.

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  I pound on the door so there’s no way Maria can miss it. She swings the door open, wearing those same tiny ass shorts from yesterday, but this time she’s in nothing but a black sports bra on top. I growl to myself as I vibrate with the need to maintain control

  “Please let me in.”

  My voice sounds gruff even to my own ears. She stares at me for a long moment. She’s not dumb, and she’s not new to sex and desire.

  She knows where this is headed.

 
Yet she doesn’t. I’d never have sex with her. I just need to touch her.

  She nods and swings the door open. I stomp in and turn to her, but she’s already there. Close. I grip her ass and yank her into me, inhaling her sweet scent. She smells like jasmine.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Let me touch you, Maria.”

  Without answering or acknowledging my question, she slides down my body and reaches for my waistband. On instinct, I snatch her hair and pull her to her feet.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  She doesn’t so much as flinch. Ignoring my outburst, she reaches up to cup my face. I step away. I won’t let her do this.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

  “I’m fine. It was hot.”

  Then she steps back in my space, and places her other hand on my face, holding it gently.

  “Let me make you feel good.”

  “No, Maria. I want to touch you. That’s it. Let me.”

  “Oh, I will. After you.”

  “Maria! Despite my name, these are scars, not cuts on my body. They aren’t fucking going away! What don’t you get about that?”

  “What don’t you get about the fact that I don’t give a shit?”

  “Right, sure,” I scoff. “That’s what they all say.”

  “Don’t lump me in with whatever other trailer trash you’ve fucked.”

  I grip her arm bruisingly tight. “You know nothing!”

  “I know someone hurt you and you’re projecting that on me. I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

  She’s right, but I can’t stop this feeling.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  That gets the fire burning inside her. Her eyes flare. She reaches over and smacks me straight across the face with her free arm. Shit! I let her other arm go.

  “Fine. You’ll get your turn. But make no mistake, I will get my hands on you tonight.”

  How can my feelings be so conflicted? My dick immediately springs to life, fucking traitor, but my heart is constricting in my chest.

  I can’t help but think in the back of my mind that this whole interaction is backward.

  Whatever.

  “Sit back,” I bark.

  She smirks and walks to the bed. I stalk to the bed and hover over her. I immediately soften when she’s underneath me. I look into her soft brown eyes. My hand reaches up on its own accord to stroke a strand of her hair back. She whimpers and slowly moves her hips up. A blast of desire hits her suddenly. I see it. Hell, I smell it on her. It’s carnal.

  “Brantley,” she whispers.

  “Shhh…” I press my finger over her lips. She slides her mouth over it with a wink.

  “Coming soon, babe.”

  I immediately pull my finger out and groan. Her eyes light up. I should head back to my room now. This is the point where I should leave.

  But I sure as hell don’t.

  With a growl, I carefully slide her shorts down her long, tan legs. She’s putty underneath my large frame.

  “Brantley…”

  I smirk and trace my finger down her stomach. She snatches my wrist and brings it down to her pussy.

  “In case you’re confused about where I want it.”

  She glares at me. I laugh. Out loud.

  “Alright, babe.”

  We both freeze. Me more than her. Babe? She slowly grinds her hips against my hand. When our eyes meet, she nods. It’s okay, Brantley.

  Still reeling, I slowly slide my finger inside her. I’m distracted the whole time I’m touching her. This is all I wanted when I came in here, but now I’m lost. Maria comes quickly, but I’m sure it’s because she was unfulfilled at my mom’s.

  I’m not here. I’m going through the actions. I called her babe. I don’t snap out of my trance. I can’t. That is, until several minutes later, when Maria’s hands squeeze my thighs. I snap up. She’s kneeling on the floor in front of me with her hands on my waistband.

  “Let me help you. Let me get you out of your head.”

  “Maria…”

  “It works. I promise. Please let me help you.”

  “Maria, I—”

  “Trust me,” she whispers. “You can trust me.”

  She looks up at me with big eyes. Her hands tighten on my waist. Please trust me.

  I nod once.

  “You’re making the right choice, big guy.”

  Her hands find my shorts and she pulls them down to my ankles, along with my boxers. She’s still just in her sports bra. The whole thing has my dick hard as a rock, even if my heart is pounding in my chest harder than it is has in any fight.

  Her fingers graze my inner thigh, forcing my muscles to tense under her touch.

  “Trust me, okay?” She whispers one more time.

  “Trust is earned,” I barely grit out.

  “Touché.”

  With that, she slowly licks the tip of my cock, letting her other hand slowly wander up my leg.

  “Maria,” I growl.

  Please stop.

  “Shh, Brantley. Just feel.”

  Her mouth slowly slides over my cock, taking most of it in one go. Holy shit.

  Maria expertly works me with her hands. Tongue. Mouth. Easily bringing me to come, like I did for her. I wait for her to pull away. I warn her I’m coming, but she doesn’t move. She swallows everything. Forcing me deeper into the sea of lost and unattainable desires she locks me in.

  “You cannot tell me that was not worth it,” she says, climbing back up my body and straddling me. “Brantley Taylor! I’m still here.”

  “Woman, what?!”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  My jaw tightens, but I don’t say anything.

  “You know I won’t, and I think that scares you.”

  Say nothing.

  “Kiss me.”

  I push her off me, pull my pants up and stand, running my hand over my face. “What?”

  She stands and walks up to me.

  “Brantley...” Her fingertips trace my cheek. “Sleep with me? Just for one night. Forget the world. Forget who we’re supposed to be outside of here and…”

  She can’t finish. The words are just as hard for her to say as they are for me to hear.

  “You can’t mean that, Maria.”

  “I’m serious, Brantley. I know you want to as badly as I do. I know you feel this.” She gestures between us. “And if you leave me standing here, feeling like a complete idiot, because you’re scared, I will never forgive you. You can say no, but give me a reason why. Tell me I’m not wrong.”

  I stare into her fearful but certain deep brown eyes.

  “So, what do you say, Brantley?”

  25

  Yes.

  There was no other answer to that question. Not one I could get myself to entertain, anyway.

  Fuck insecurities. Fuck what happens tomorrow. Just… fuck.

  She moans when I crash into her, slamming my lips against hers in a brutal kiss. It takes her all of two seconds to respond. To match me. To grab my shoulders and pull my body even closer to hers. As I ravage her mouth, she wraps her leg around my hip and starts grinding into me. Every whimper sends blood straight to my cock. I can’t think. I can’t fucking think. I’m always thinking. Always.

  “Lay back.”

  “Take your pants off.”

  I smirk at her show of dominance. “Lay. Back.”

  “Fine,” she says with an eye roll and a wave of her head. Her hips sashay side to side as she strolls to the bed and lies back. When she gets to the bed she winks at me. She knows who has the real power here, and it’s sure as hell not me. “Now, your turn. Pants. Off.”

  She mimics my tone. I ignore her. I stomp over to the bed where she’s lying, feet propped up on the bed, hiding herself from me ‘til I listen to her. Woman may never have thrown a punch, but she’s a soldier’s daughter through and through. She knows how to fight.

  Shame for her, I know how to fight harder.

 
; And I’m not a stickler for the rules.

  I climb next to her and brush her hair back.

  “Maria…” I say, voice husky.

  “Yes?” Her voice comes out airy.

  I crawl over her, propping myself up on my elbows so I don’t crush her. I kiss her gently as I slide my hand between her thighs. I feel her sigh against my lips as her legs open ever so slightly. I slide my finger between her wet folds. Her skin feels cool under my touch, but I feel the heat radiating off her. She arches her hips off the bed with a moan.

  “Please just give me what I want.”

  Her voice is pleading and desperate, almost whiny. I make a show of sliding my hand back off her before wrapping my fingers around the waistband of my shorts.

  Not breaking eye contact with her, I slowly slide my pants back down my legs, this time kicking them off to the side.

  Maria literally shivers on the bed, eyes trained on me.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” she grumbles, sounding almost miserable about it.

  “Right.” I roll my eyes at her.

  “How can you not think so?! You’re so infuriating.”

  Ditto, Maria.

  I crawl over her and tug at the strap of her bra. “This needs to come off.”

  She leans up and literally throws it off her body before grabbing my hip and pulling me into her. I watch with hooded eyes as she leans in and nips at my ear.

  “You’re trying to shut me up.”

  I grunt.

  “It won’t work.”

  “Won’t it?” I smirk and let my hips fall into her. My cock teases her opening. My eyes snap to hers. Hers are wide.

  Her hips arch off the bed, sending another wave of fiery hot need through my body. My fingers dig into her hips, shoving her back down.

  She doesn’t say it, but the disapproval in her eyes is more than apparent.

  “Relax.”

  “I can’t.”

  Her muscles are wound tight. She doesn’t look comfortable at all. For the first time ever, I don’t wonder if it’s my scars. If it’s me. I know it’s not that. It’s something else, and that brings me an odd sense of comfort. An ability to help her that I usually don’t have.

  I slowly start to massage down her legs, then her calves, then her perfectly manicured feet. She really does take care of every inch of her body. Her legs slowly go limp under my touch with a sigh.