by Paula Mabbel
She let her fingers drift up and down Tyler’s strong arms, and thrilled at the feel of skin coming alive at her touch. As Bronwyn ran her hands up to his thick black hair, Tyler lifted her sweater up over her head. With her sweater now tossed off to the side, Tyler stopped and just began to stare, now wrapped around him, clad in only in a pale blue bra and her pajama pants. She began to shy away from his gaze, uncomfortable with how exposed he was making her feel.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Tyler let his fingers trace all over Bronwyn’s curves, her stomach, her full, round breasts, and just stared on as if hypnotized by her.
“You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Wynnie. From the first time I saw you in the airport, I can’t explain it, but it’s like you’re a different person; it’s like I never knew you at all before.”
With a soft laugh, Bronwyn leaned in and kissed Tyler before she responded, “You didn’t, really.”
In all her life, Bronwyn had never had anyone look at her the way Tyler was looking at her right now, and it was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of him. She kissed him for real this time, tasting every bit of him, letter her tongue explore the inner reaches of his mouth, her hands running through his thick, soft hair. Pressed against each other in a frenetic embrace, her heart pounded like a drum as Tyler gently bit her lip and squeezed her ample breasts. Bronwyn's breath caught in her throat, her sex on fire at the feel of Tyler's tumescent manhood against her thighs.
Bronwyn's vision began to cloud from need, her mind hazy from a collection of sensations unlike anything she’d ever know. Tyler's large hands held her around the waist and lifted her from the couch and straight into the air, her legs holding tight around his rippled torso. As he carried her up the stairs and toward the bedroom, she kissed along his neck and shoulders as if she were desperate for the taste of his soft skin.
His strong arms held her tight, his hands gripping her lovely ass, holding as firmly as he could without bruising her. With one quick movement, Tyler flung open the doors to the bedroom, and for a brief moment, Bronwyn was distracted from her desire.
The bedroom, her bedroom, was the room she had shared with Declan. Over the last six years, they’d maybe spent as many weeks together in the same bed, but it still felt like their room, their bed. It was enough to give her pause, and Tyler saw it in her eyes. With a gentle kiss on her forehead, he backed out of the room and walked them over to his room on the other side of the hall. She whispered in his ear, “I’m so sorry. I just… this is all so strange. My mind hasn’t really caught up with my body yet.”
“We can take as much time as you need, Bronwyn. I don’t want to rush you, or do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Tyler said as he pulled back, his expression serious.
Bronwyn wrapped her arms around Tyler's neck and kissed him passionately, her answer in her kiss. She let her fingertips trace the length of his spine, and reveled in the feel of him shivering inside her thighs. Tyler carried her over to the bed and set her gently down on the downy comforter. Her whole body became alight at the rush of sensations: Tyler's hands on her stomach, the feel of the cool comforter against her warm skin, the smell of strawberries wafting up from the kitchen. She hardly noticed as Tyler expertly slid away her flannel pajama bottoms, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh of her thighs as inched them off and pushed them to the floor.
Now, Bronwyn was aware of everything. Tyler reached up and unclasped her bra with nervous fingers, and then let his hand travel back around to cup the fullness of her breasts. His lips kissed their way down her stomach, skipper her underwear and moving to her thighs, letting his lips brush against the sensitive skin of her legs as his other hand traced the lines of her calf. Bronwyn felt like she was going mad with need, a prisoner of her desire. She wanted more of Tyler, all of him. Her hands grabbed out to touch any part of him she could reach, her sex practically aching for him.
Tyler anticipated her need, and didn't make her wait. In one graceful move, he slipped off her panties, and slid up next to her, kissing her fully, tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue. While she was distracted by his lips on hers, he let one hand travel down the length of her body, and to her pussy, where he slipped first one, then two fingers inside her warmth. Bronwyn's body rose to meet every drive of his long, elegant fingers, dancing inside her as his thumb pressed against her clit. Bronwyn felt a wave of orgasm rushing over her, never having been truly touched like this before, with such passion, with such eager hunger.
But Tyler wasn't ready to let Bronwyn escape that easily. With a cunning smile, and a delicate kiss, he removed his hand from between her legs, tasting her wetness on the tips of his fingers as she watched on, captivated. Then, he began a journey of discovery, tasting and kissing every inch of her body that could reach, from her shoulders to her arms and hands, back up to her chest, all over each of her breasts, only ceasing to lavish care on her perky nipples, then down her stomach, across her abdomen, and coming to rest in the downy curls between her thighs. With tantalizing grazes of his tongue, he began tasting every inch of her, inside, outside, licking up every drop of her.
Bronwyn's hips rose with ache, completely mesmerized by the feel of his lips on her body, the magnificent anguish of his tongue inside of her; she began screaming, begging for things she'd never asked for in her life,
“Tyler, please. I want you to fuck me. Please...”
His face rose to meet hers from the end of the bed, a flash of concern glittering in his chocolate brown eyes. He slid his hands leisurely up her body, squeezing and kissing the same path he'd taken down, her skin now covered in droplets of perspiration caused by her rising and falling pleasure. When he met her eyes, face to face, he tenderly kissed the tip of her nose, whispering,
“Are you sure about this, Bronwyn? I don’t want to do anything that you’ll regret tomorrow.”
Something about his gentle way, his willingness to stop if that's what she really wanted, it was all it took to drive her over the edge. Her movements were fluid, waves on the sand, and in one felt swoop, her legs looped around his waist. Tyler was on his back, and Bronwyn was on top of him.
With her hands holding tight to his shoulders, and their lips locked in an adoring kiss, Bronwyn took the length of Tyler's rigid cock inside of her. Every throb of him, every pulse of his quivering manhood in her pussy, brought on another gust of rapture.
As Bronwyn rode atop Tyler, every inhibition, all of her nervousness, fell away. Tyler looked up at her with eyes full of love, hands that couldn't stop touching her, and Bronwyn all at once felt like the goddess Tyler believed her to be. With her hands in her hair, she slid up and off him, feeling her own orgasm rushing on her like spring rain clouds. He put his hands on her waist and whispered,
“Baby... I'm coming.”
And with one grand thrust, they both shattered with delightful ecstasy. The sound of Tyler's deep voice calling out her name made Bronwyn's orgasm even much more epic, paired with the sensation of his essence filling her, and it only took seconds for her whole body to be wracked with quivers. She fell down on Tyler, the sweat of their sex soaking enveloping them both.
As Bronwyn gasped for air, her head resting on Tyler's powerful chest, he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her as tight as he was able, he whispered in her ear,
“Can I keep you?”
Chapter Five
Tyler
The next morning, Tyler woke up to the warmth of the winter sun beating down on his bare chest, and the sound of Bronwyn gently snoring as she nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. As he looked down at her, he was flooded with more emotions than he could process at one time. She was so beautiful and so strong, that he was in awe of her. She was so delicate and so angelic, he wanted to protect her. She was the only woman he’d ever wanted to love, and she was his brother’s wife. Tyler and Declan had never been close, but somehow, he still struggled with the reality of what had happened the night before.
And Tyler couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, all of this had happened to bring them to together in the end.
He shook the selfish thought from his head and made his way out of the bedroom, leaving Bronwyn to sleep in while he tended to the goats and sheep. The snow had starting falling in the middle of the night, and thick blanket of white covered the fields. The carriage house looked gorgeous in the snow, and Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace.
As he trudged over to the barn, he heard the sound of a truck pulling up the drive. It was Roger, coming over to help with the milking, as he had every Saturday morning since Bronwyn took over the farm. Tyler waved with a smile as his father rushed over to meet him.
“You’re up early this morning, son. Something on your mind or just itching to get an udder between your fingers?”
Tyler chucked his dad on the shoulder. “That’s disgusting, pop. I was just up early, so I figured I’d get a jump on some of the grunt work. Let Bronwyn sleep in.”
Roger nodded with a knowing eyebrow raised, and Tyler groaned.
“What, dad? What? What did I say?”
As they walked to the goat enclosure, Roger looked straight ahead. “I may be old, and I may be going blind in one eye, but I’m not stupid, Tyler James Hunter. I see the way you look at that little girl. And you ain’t looking at her like her brother-in-law.”
Tyler always hated this about his dad. He could see right through him, even when he thought he was doing a damn good job hiding what was going on in his head.
“Dad, it’s nothing. Really. I’m just… helping her out.”
Roger grabbed Tyler’s arm to stop him from going in to the pen and pointed to a stump on the ground, gesturing for him to sit. Tyler wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart, but there was no getting out of it. He knew that much. They sat down next to each other on the stump, and Roger took a long, tired breath before he spoke.
“Tyler, I love both my boys with all of my being. But you and Declan could not have been more different. Declan never knew what he really wanted in life, so he tried to live your life, and it wasn’t a fit. I truly think he believed that Bronwyn was his answer to something normal, and then when that didn’t work, he ran away again. We begged him to come back, to do the right thing, but he couldn’t bear to break her heart, even if it was the right thing for both of them. So here we are now. Declan was my son, and I love him forever, and for always, but maybe he kept running in the hopes that one day… we’d just stop chasing him.”
Tyler rolled a clump of snow into a ball and chucked it out into the field in front of him. His father may have been right, but it didn’t make him feel any better about what he was just about to say to Roger.
“Pop. I think I have feelings for Bronwyn. Real feelings. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Now it was Roger’s turn to start throwing snowballs absent-mindedly out in the emptiness. He let out a long, tired sigh, then looked up at the carriage house, where they could both see curtains fluttering, indicating that Bronwyn was awake and making breakfast. Roger leaned over and shoved his son playfully.
“You’re a good man, Tyler. And Bronwyn is a good woman. Whatever you decide to do, it will be the right thing. Declan never did right by her. I think you will.”
Tyler rolled his eyes, “Thanks, dad. That clears things right up.”
“I’m your father, not a magic 8 ball. You want one word answers, go shake a toy. In the meantime, help me get these goats milked so we can eat some breakfast and I can get back to your mother.”
Chapter Six
Bronwyn
Bronwyn watched from the kitchen window as Tyler and Roger got the goats milked and the horses fed. She couldn’t help smiling as the men laughed and kicked around in the snow, and she couldn’t help but notice that in spite of everything, Roger looked happier than he had in a long time. Everyone missed Declan, and that was never going to go away, but they were finally able to move on with their lives, something they couldn’t do while Declan was hopping from dangerous mission to dangerous mission with no regard for his own life.
Bronwyn knew about Tyler’s history in the SEALs, but Roger and Annie had always been so proud of the fact that as soon as he got out, he was planning to get his Masters Degree and join the State Bureau of Investigation. She didn’t feel like she had to worry that she’d wake up one morning, and Tyler would be gone, and never come back. The prospect of a life with Tyler seemed like life was supposed to be: safe, secure, and full of love.
She was just flipping the last omelet when Tyler and Roger came in the kitchen, their cheeks red from the cold.
“Hey, you goons! Watch your boots! You’re tracking snow on my clean floors!”
Then laughed out apologies and pulled their boots off, tossing them outside and pulling up chairs at the table. Bronwyn tried to hide the blush in her cheeks as she locked eyes with Tyler, so she spun around to the food and began plating it, afraid to make a fool of herself in front of Roger. Tyler was just about to say something when his cell phone began to ring, startling all three of them.
“Who the hell would be calling this early on a Saturday?” Roger asked incredulously.
Tyler shrugged as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered.
“Hello?... Yes, this is Tyler Hunter… What?... Are you… You’re sure?... Yes, I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Bronwyn felt her stomach drop. Was it Annie? Or was Tyler being called back into service? She turned from the stove and stared at him with panic in her eyes. Roger had a similar expression on his face.
“Son… is something wrong with your mother?”
Tyler shook his head adamantly. “No, dad. It was the staff sergeant at the base in Helena. I just need to go check in with them about some things. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
Bronwyn tried to push down a choking feeling in her throat, and just nodded. Tyler squeezed her hand as he walked by her to get his coat, and she noticed he was trying to keep a small smile plastered on his face. She nodded and tried to look positive, but she could feel the nerves setting in. Why did I think I could do this again? That same old feeling was just starting to overwhelm her when Tyler turned at the door and said,
“Wynnie… Everything. Is going. To be fine.”
And with that, Tyler was gone.
Chapter Seven
Tyler
Tyler was driving as fast as he could without getting pulled over, but Helena didn’t seem to be getting any closer. He could barely process the doctor’s words as he drove.
“Your brother is here. And he’s alive. But he’s insisting that only you come. He doesn’t have long, Hunter. You need to get here as quickly as you can.”
Tyler had checked flights when he got in the car, but it would have taken him as long to wait for a plane and then puddle-jump to Helena as it would have to just drive there while pushing the speed limit. Nothing about this made any sense; how could the brass have gotten this so wrong? And why did Declan only want to see him? Why didn’t he want to see Bronwyn or their parents?
When he pulled up outside of the military hospital five hours later, he was almost afraid to get out of the car. Declan was inside, who knew how badly hurt, and this may be their last chance to talk. What would be say? What did Declan want to tell him? Tyler had been less afraid facing down the barrel of a gun in Fallujah than he was of walking through the sliding doors of the hospital.
Eventually, though, he had to get out of the car, and he walked into
the hospital, where he hesitantly approached the woman at the reception desk.
“Ma’am, I’m here for Declan Hunter. Can you tell me what room he’s in please?”
The woman punched a few keys into the ancient computer in front of her and then looked up at Tyler with a disappointed expression.
“He’s not in a room, sir. He’s in the ICU, fifth floor. But I’m only authorized to let his brother, Tyler up. Do you have ID?”
Tyler pulled his military ID from his wallet and the woman directed him to the elevators. Every step he took felt like he was trudging through wet cement, but nothing prepared him for what he saw when he got to the ICU. There was only one man inside, and Tyler recognized him as Declan by his crystal blue eyes, their mother’s eyes. But the rest of him was wrapped in bandages, which seemed to be covering third degree burns all over his body. An oxygen mask was secured over his mouth, and every so often, he’d twitch, as if the pain were registering through sleep.
