BE MY BRAYSHAW

by Meagan Brandy

  She does, so I climb on the couch beside her, and as I had hoped, she chooses her daddy’s lap to lie her head on.

  I don’t glance at Captain, but I can sense the relief slowly settling into him as Zoey’s breathing grows steady, her eyes glued to the screen as she watches her favorite show.

  Captain

  Me.

  I take a deep breath, running my hand over Zoey’s hair.

  Her eyes flutter heavier as she begins to fall asleep, but every time my voice is heard on the screen they fly open, and damn if an overwhelming sense of calm doesn’t spread through me, taking every ounce of tension and uncertainty with it.

  For the very first time since I learned I was a dad... I believe it.

  I believe, deep in my core, with every thread of my soul, every inch of who I am, I know I was meant for this.

  For her.

  For the beautiful, smart, courageous, little girl, who is half of me, but owns every piece.

  All my baby girl wanted tonight, while I stood convinced this was the proof I feared would show itself, that I wasn’t enough for her, was to watch videos of me. To feel close to me in a way she must have become accustomed to.

  This. These clips are how she felt me, came to love me, grew close when I wasn’t within her reach.

  She must have watched them often to have our phrases and things memorized.

  She had me with her all along.

  The videos aren’t clean, you still get our slang and some cussing here and there, but it’s not vulgar or anything too bad. It’s us.

  At the park, at the school, even in gym.

  It’s as if it was purposely filmed this way, left true and honest, so Zoey, while away, could get to know the real us, unfiltered, unedited, and in our element.

  My eyes close and I inhale deeply, pulling every bit of this moment into myself I can, when suddenly, the cushion dips beside me.

  My eyes fly open and look over.

  Victoria has her gaze locked where Zoey’s feet lie in her lap, and gingerly begins to slide away, freezing when my hand shoots across to capture her knee cap.

  Weary brown eyes hit mine, searching.

  “I... she’s sleeping,” she whispers unsure, as if I might not have noticed.

  I did.

  Still, for some reason, my hand moved to stop her.

  Hers suddenly falls on top.

  I frown at the contact. “I told you not to touch me.”

  “Yeah,” she whispers. “I know.”

  Something in me stings.

  I don’t know why I reached for her, to help keep Zoey sleeping, maybe, but that doesn’t explain why it takes more effort than I’d like to admit to let go.

  I do, but she doesn’t move right away.

  Victoria hesitantly reaches over to drag the back of her hand over Zoey’s forehead. Deep brown eyes lift to mine. “Her fever is gone.”

  I nod, my brows furrowing.

  Noticed that too.

  She manages to stand and begins walking past but freezes when the video changes to one of us playing on the school courts.

  It’s more recent, toward the end of the season.

  “Should I turn it off?” she asks.

  But I just keep staring at her, unsure of what to say, torn between demanding her to stay and wanting her to want to.

  Does she want to?

  I say nothing, instead focusing on the screen as I shake my head.

  She hustles from the room.

  Several minutes go by, and I find myself chuckling when Royce dances across the court having dunked on Maddoc, completely unaware he’s flipping him off as he comes to me for a high five.

  And then Raven’s voice is heard saying, “I don’t give a shit.”

  I grin, wondering if she’ll be in this one, but then the screen is fumbled around, now facing the grass, a whispered, cut off “fuck” following.

  My body jolts forward, and Zoey stirs in my lap so I quickly steel myself as the video ends, rolling right into the next one.

  Wait.

  I stretch my arms forward as much as I can, keeping my body in place as best possible, and grip the edge of the laptop, lifting it up.

  Thankfully the cord attached to the tablet is long enough and it doesn’t fall, so I set the laptop on the cushion and tug the cord until the tablet is in reach.

  I rewind the clip, listening carefully.

  And I do it again and again until my shoulders fall.

  I turn the volume up higher, playing it one more time.

  “I don’t give a shit.” Raven chuckles.

  Her voice isn’t close, some scrambling follows and then...

  “Fuck.”

  Fuck...

  Victoria.

  Chapter 14

  Captain

  Scooping Zoey into my arms, I slowly make my way to her room, laying her on top of her comforter and covering her instead with a thin sheet.

  I feel her forehead once again, and slowly step out, pulling the door shut.

  I go to step into my room, but for some reason I toss the tablet onto my bed and keep forward, straight down the hall until I’m outside of Victoria’s door.

  I glance over my shoulder to find Royce’s is closed, and then face forward.

  Hers isn’t, at least not all the way.

  My palm flattens on the wood, and I push, my breathing growing more labored as it slowly sways open, revealing darkness inside.

  But I see her.

  So she does sleep in the bed, but not under the covers...

  Her hair somehow glows against the deep blue pillowcase.

  I know she’s awake, I hear her swallow.

  I step inside, coming to stand at the foot of her bed as she pushes into a seated position.

  Long blonde hair spills along her shoulders, falling all around her.

  I make my way to the left side of the bed, and her neck cranes to follow.

  My knuckles come up, but I don’t have to guide her, her head lifts on its own.

  The darkness complies with my unspoken need, granting me vision and allowing me a glimpse of her face.

  Hope and horror.

  Such a deadly combination on you, Beauty.

  She slowly slides her legs over the edge of the bed, the smooth sound of satin brushing skin sending an unforgiving zing down my spine.

  Her posture raises, body begging to be closer to mine.

  She’s the reason Zoey took the medicine, the reason she calmed enough to fall asleep.

  She shouldn’t know how to do any of that.

  She shouldn’t know my daughter at all.

  But she does.

  She made those videos, gave my baby something I couldn’t.

  Gave me something...

  My knuckle stretches out, my hand sliding down so I can grip the hollow of her throat and she pushes against my palm.

  My fingers twitch against her warmed skin and she shudders, her broken breath reaching my lips.

  My shoulders curl a bit, bringing me in more, and her hand comes up to grip my wrist.

  Her hold is tight, but she shakes.

  My pulse beats heavy in my palm, or maybe it’s hers that I feel spiking, growing faster and faster, louder and fucking louder.

  It’s all I hear, and it drives me closer.

  Her spine straightens, torso stretching to erase more distance, and suddenly those baby doll lips are in reach.

  I dare the tiniest of tastes.

  Big fucking mistake.

  My eyes close, my forehead tipping forward to meet hers as I fight a growl.

  She shivers, hard.

  Every fucking inch of her shakes before me.

  In need.

  In want.

  In fear?

  But not of what I’ll do, of what I might not...

  I lean forward, bringing my bottom lip between hers, and then drag it down until hers is nestled in mine, and I bite, gentle but firm.

  Her eyes close in pleasure and my cock is pleased, twitc
hing and flexing inside my jeans.

  She gasps, and it takes all I’ve got not to swallow it.

  So I play her neck as I would her mouth, and crush my lips to the base of it, gliding along to the hollow of her throat.

  Fuck if a heavy need doesn’t fly through my veins, sending zings through my fingertips and toes. A need that grows deeper when Victoria doesn’t only take what I give, but sighs on contact.

  A deep heavy exhale that has her back arching high, driving her chest into mine, opening up her neck even more for me, and my tongue glides along. Tasting and taking and it’s not enough.

  I don’t know if she lays back, or if I nudge her myself, but when my eyes open, she’s under me, my shirt’s on the floor, her heated hands are running up my sides.

  So smooth, so foreign.

  So fucking familiar, like my soul already knows hers.

  The thought settles, digging deeper and I lower my body, holding myself up with my forearms as I bring my leg between hers.

  I apply the littlest of pressure, desperate to feel, and angered when I do.

  Her eyes roll closed as her excitement coats my kneecap and I slide against the wet spot of her underwear.

  Her breathing grows heavy, and I bite the inside of my cheeks.

  “You ruined everything,” I tell her, sliding my mouth to her ear, and down her neck in a torturously slow manner. I kiss her there, my fists tightening in the blanket as I pull back to look her in the eye. “And I hate you for it.”

  Her chest rises and falls in quick spurts, each second dragging into the next as she stares, waiting. Knowing.

  It’s even more infuriating.

  Intoxicating.

  Reckless.

  I slide from the bed and she’s quick to fly up with me, her eyes widening in want when I grip her knee as I drop to mine. She lowers her chin, studying me through her long, dark lashes. With one quick tug, I’ve got her legs hanging over the bed.

  She gasps, her head tipping back, exposing the skin of her neck, but I grip her chin and hide the tempting area. She leans in, but I yank away.

  Her legs part, and all I can think is how perfectly I’d fit between them.

  Fuck.

  I growl, gripping her upper arms and her tongue slides along the backs of her teeth, drawing my attention to the devilish red determined to take me to Hell should I allow them, leading, forcing me near when all I want to do is fucking run and run fast.

  She’s taking power without permission.

  Proof is when my mouth reaches for hers, but I somehow freeze there, a lick away, my eyes snapping to hers.

  “I don’t think so, sleeping beauty,” I whisper, and her legs open farther, sending a tremor down my spine. Fuck. “The lies on your lips burn too deep to meet mine. Keep them away.”

  A small crease forms over her forehead, but she doesn’t fight me.

  I place my hand on her chest, spreading my fingers across her collarbone and she pulls in a long inhale. I push.

  It takes her a few seconds, but she finally gives in, and falls back, tilting her head so she can look at me on my knees between her open thighs. Her brown eyes darken, eyelids lowering and she lays her head back, her fingertips touching at the edge of her face.

  A light breeze blows through the open window then, and goosebumps spread along her thighs, making her shiver. It’s almost enough for me to tear away from her.

  Fuck me, the sight, her on her back shivering and shaking in front of me, and all from the wind.

  She’s gonna lose her fucking mind.

  I bring my hands to her panties, not looking away from where my fingertips dip into the cotton material, and tug. I chance a quick glance up when she lifts her hips, but quickly focus back on what I want to see most.

  What I need to see, taste. Drive wild.

  As wild and fucked in the head as I feel tonight.

  Everything burns like a lie.

  What she did and didn’t do.

  What I did and didn’t do.

  What she should but hasn’t done.

  What I could but won’t do...

  I feel like a fraud in my own life, weak and unsure and I hate it.

  But this, her in front of me, terribly gorgeous and wanting, is no lie.

  It’s real.

  And right now, tonight, that’s what I need.

  It’s selfish and stupid, but it’s happening...

  I want her and can’t fight it, no matter how hard I try and convince myself to stay away, it only serves as a bid to get closer.

  Her bottoms slide past her hips, but I use all my control not to peek yet, forcing my gaze to the floor as I tug her legs in enough to slip them off completely, and she drags them right back where she wants them.

  Wide the fuck open, but still, I don’t cheat myself by looking.

  My fingers begin at her ankles, my eyes following the left one as I trace along her calves, up over her knees until my palms are flat on her thighs. My hands twitch, squeezing into her soft skin and a harsh exhale escapes her.

  What a body you hide, Beauty.

  Tanned and toned.

  I push higher, my brows crashing together when a heavy, shadowed ink catches my attention. I lean closer, my heated breath now a gift to her skin, and she jerks in response.

  A tattoo.

  She has a tattoo on her upper thigh that lifts up under her shirt.

  Purple petals, both frozen and falling, curved and cut, bleeding an icy blue, and hanging from a curved barbed wire designed to play as if it’s ivy, giving the flowers life while taking it just the same.

  Ruined but resilient.

  My heart pounds heavy as I push the thin material of her top up to see the rest, but her hand flies down, clamping around mine in a death grip.

  Her nostrils flare, a heavy frown taking over her face, and fuck if a pressure doesn’t fall on my chest, no matter how hard I fight it away.

  What...

  Oh shit. Her scars...

  I relax my hold and slowly, hers falls away as she shifts her attention to my hands as I trail them across the image, ready to take both our minds to one place and erase everything else.

  My fingertips test the skin at her hipbones, kneading and rubbing. I grip her there, nice and tight, and squeeze—a perfect fucking fit.

  I lick my lips and as slow as I can manage, slide my eyes to the prize in the center, pink and perfect. She’s not bare as I imagined, but precisely trimmed, shaped to mirror her body, and curved just right.

  She’s not shy, doesn’t try to hide, but lies there offering me a seat at the king’s table.

  I bring my pinkie up, sliding it against the deep center, and I’m met with slick, warm proof of her arousal. My blood runs hot.

  My eyes fly to hers. Her teeth come down to punish her bottom lip right as my finger glides across my own, my tongue greedily following to get that first, fevering fucking taste.

  Oh fuck.

  My head falls back some, and I groan, my dick now fully hard and straining in my sweats, pushing tight against my boxers. Too tight.

  I reach down, quickly shoving them to my thighs to free it and an airy moan leaves her, sending a jolt through my body.

  No, no. Can’t have her taking control of my body’s reactions.

  She’s short enough her arms reach her legs, so I quickly grip her by the wrists, locking her palms on my shoulders, and squeeze.

  A quick and heavy pounding fires within my chest, growing stronger with each beat as every nerve in my body wakes wild and wanting. I lower until my breath is fanning across her, right over her swollen little clit.

  She shakes and I’m not even fucking touching her.

  I pointedly move my eyes to her grip on me and slide them back to her.

  “Not a sound...”

  Talk with your touch. Your moans will be my ruin.

  Her head lifts as mine falls, my mouth closing around her clit and her knees glide higher on the mattress, pushing her closer to me.

  She
buries my face between her legs, begging for all I’ve got, and tonight, I’ve got a lot.

  I nip at her, licking and sucking and when her body starts to quake, my tongue vibrates with it as I slip my left hand into my pocket, pulling it out just as fast and press the cooled brass against her slit, her body a frenzy of sensations.

  My heated tongue, the cool of the metal, the night breeze flowing through the window and the dirty darkness we’re playing in.

  She gasps, flying off the bed, her hand slamming over her mouth in the process.

  “There you go,” I breathe. “Hide from me.”

  I fucking need you to.

  “You’re going to come for me, right against the brass.”

  She does, her pulse beating through her pussy.

  “Mm,” I moan, placing the edge of the pinky knuckle at her opening, and rolling my fist, coating my token from one end to the other with her cum.

  With my left hand still playing along her center, I grab my cock with my right and pump. Slow to start, but as her legs fall open with satisfaction, I go harder, and her head lifts, her eyes falling to my arm she can’t see the end of as my lower half is hidden by the rise of her mattress.

  Her gaze snaps to mine and I hold it, staring right in her eyes as I work toward my own release, thoughts of her heat in my head, her flavor on my tongue.

  Her body slick on mine.

  Her lips part as I pull my fist to my mouth, my tongue coming out for a heavy sweep along the brass, cleaning her from it completely. I groan, long and loud, my cum following the sound. I shift quickly, catching it with my palm.

  I don’t look back at her, don’t wait for my body to settle or my heart rate to drop.

  I pull up my sweats, place my knuckles back in my pocket, and walk out, but I freeze right outside her door, when her whispered words reach me, and I’m not even sure if they were supposed to.

  “Hate me today, Cap,” she speaks to herself. “But careful. You might just love me tomorrow.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter 15

  Captain

  I fucked up.

  I tested and tasted the deceiving forbidden fruit when I should have stomped it beneath my feet. A flavor so sweet I want more, a sight so gripping I’ll never forget.