Salvage

by Tiffany Aleman

  The darkness of our room swallows me as I step past the threshold. From the living room, light spills into the room, just past the doorway, bathing Brayden in a cloak of shadows. He leans against the doorframe and even though I can’t make out his features his words and the deep, gravelly, timbre of his tone sets off a multitude of emotions. Desire, need, lust, greed—hunger like I’ve never known makes me ravenous for him.

  “Take off your shirt.” It’s not a request but a demand.

  Standing inches from the foot of the bed, I stare back at him and silently follow his command. This is a side of Brayden I have yet to experience. This domineering side of him makes my body tremble with a pleasure only he can give me. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I clutch the hem of my shirt in my hands as I begin to pull upward. Slowly, the material glides up and over my stomach, ribs, breast’s before my arms slip free and it drops to the floor in front of my feet.

  He nods. “Now your bra.”

  My core contracts and I’m forced to squeeze my legs together to help with the pressure that’s building. I reach behind my back and unlatch the hooks. The straps slide free off my shoulders, down my arms, only to join my shirt below.

  Pushing off the frame, Brayden prowls forward like a predator hunting its prey. My heavy breaths make my chest heave up and down in a quickened pace. Only an inch from me, Brayden stops, tosses the bottle of tequila onto the bed and sets the bowl of lemon wedges down on the comforter. With his hands now free, the sliver of moonlight coming in through the blinds makes it easier to see his face. His gaze pierces mine. In the depths of his fixed stare, flames of desire burn back at me.

  With a tenderness that contradicts his gruff tone, I gasp in surprise when he runs the tips of his fingers across my collarbone, down between the valley of my breasts, along my ribs and stomach before working their way back up. Goosebumps cover my skin when he uses the tips of his nails to scrape along my hardened nipples. He leans in close, the faint smell of beer on his breath and the low rumble of his voice infiltrates my senses; it’s a heady combination. “You need to lose these.” He presses a tender kiss to the hollow of my throat as he grips my shorts and panties in his hands, peeling them off my body. “Get on the bed, on your back and don’t move.”

  Naked before him, he leans back, granting me the space to accommodate his wish. The plush comforter hits the back of my knees as I sink back onto the pillowtop mattress below. I scoot myself to the middle of the bed, my brown irises locked on his hooded gaze in an intense stare. Spreading my arms out to the side, I lower myself down on the bed.

  I lick my lips as I wait. Anticipation has my nerves firing on all cylinders when I feel the bed dip next to my feet. Brayden’s large frame comes into view, looming over my naked form, his chest now bare. “I love seeing you like this.” Next to my head, he picks up the bottle of tequila and untwists the cap. “Open your mouth.” I do as I’m asked. Between my teeth, he places a slice of lemon. Gently I bite down to hold it in place. With precision, he takes a small pull but he doesn’t swallow. My eyes track his movements. Slowly, his head lowers towards my left breast. In a move I never thought possible, he captures my nipple in his mouth, not a drop of tequila escapes his lips, and he sucks—hard. My back bows off the bed from the intensity of his suction and the warm liquid swirling around the stiff bud. The muscles in my legs tighten as I rub them together hoping the friction will ease the burning in my core.

  “Ahhh….” A muffled cry escapes me. Drops of lemon juice fall onto my tongue when I bite down on the tangy flavored wedge of citrus.

  He pulls back with a loud pop, releasing my nipple, only to take another pull of the golden liquid and repeat the same process to my other nipple. I moan around the wedge of lemon between my lips, only for them to be swallowed by Brayden’s mouth capturing my own. His lips cover mine for only a second as he takes the lemon into his own mouth, sucking back the juice with the same fervor as he did my nipples.

  He licks his lips and grins. “That was good.”

  With my eyes closed, I nod in agreement

  “Shall we try it this way?” he asks, his husky tone filled with desire.

  My eyes snap open as soon as I feel cool liquid dripping on my skin. In his hand, Brayden squeezes a slice of lemon between my breasts, along the slope of my neck, and down the middle of my stomach. He tosses the useless portion of citrus back into the bowl. He lifts the bottle of tequila. In a slow, steady stream he pours the burning liquid along my body. He fills the hollow of my neck with a few drops before doing the same with my bellybutton. The liquid rolls over my ribs, under the underside of my breasts, onto the blanket beneath me.

  His eyes connect with mine just before he takes his first drink. He moves between my legs, caging me in with his arms. “I’m going to lick every fucking inch of you tonight,” he growls.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask breathless, as he sucks and licks and swallows back the tequila on my body. Everywhere his tongue laves, my body comes alive. Everywhere his lips suck flames burn me from the inside out. Everywhere his fingers touch I lose a little more of my soul to the Devil he claims to be.

  “So fucking good,” he groans, lapping at the elixir in my belly button. “I’m going to make you come so hard tonight you’ll see stars from another galaxy. You’ll forget your fucking name.” My body spasms when the briefest of touches smoothes over my clit, his words barely register my sub-conscience. “Do you want that?”

  “Want…what?” I pant.

  “To forget your own name?” he murmurs in my ear.

  My nipples scrape against his bare chest. The heat of his body becomes my own. The contact shocks my system into overdrive. My arms shoot up and around his neck, I pull him down on me, whispering my own secret in his ear. “It will be you who forgets their name. It will be you who begs me for more, for mercy. It will be you screaming my name at the end of the night.”

  I don’t give him a chance to argue. I claim his lips with my own. He doesn’t hesitate. We become a tangled mess of limbs and mouths and kisses. In a frenzy, my fingers make quick work of releasing his legs and more importantly his cock from the confines of his jeans and briefs. I roll him onto his back, the bottle of tequila discarded on my bed, its contents emptying all over the place, but I couldn’t care less. Only for a second I think I might have to buy another mattress. I sink down on him. Except for Brayden and me, everything in the world ceases to exist. There are no secrets between us. There is no sordid past to look back on. It’s only us, here, at the moment, in the now. We’re the only people in the war we’ve declared, battling against each other for what we want yet won’t give. I want his heart, his secrets, and his trust. I’m willing to give him everything, but not until he does the same. Our bodies twist and bend and mold to each other. I take him from up top, only to be flipped onto my back, rolled over onto my stomach and pulled up onto all fours before I mount him like the stallion he is again. We stare at each other, each trying to take the lead, but falling into one another, that is the main goal. He tells me all the ways he wants to take me and I encourage him. I never want him to stop. This right here, what we share, it’s unadulterated lust, unbridled passion, a lawless sea of desire. He takes me to heights I’ve never experienced. I take him on the ride of his life as I slam down on him again and again and again. My name escapes his lips as a groan and plea all in one as he marks me as his own.

  “Fuck, Karmen!” he yells, holding my hips in an unrelenting grip. As every one of his muscles tightens beneath me, I realize I may have lost the battle, but I’ve just won the war and maybe him.

  I still don’t know a whole lot about the man who shares my bed, but by the way he treats me and makes me feel so alive, I’m in love with him. I know it. My heart jumps with joy when he smiles at me. My body hums with pleasure when his hands caress my flesh. I melt into nothingness when he whispers his adoration of me in my ear. Is there a difference between lust and love? Yes. I’ve been in lust with Brayden for months now. But he keeps secrets fro
m me, too. He doesn’t think I know he hides his drinking from me. I’ve found empty liquor bottles stashed under the bathroom sink, on the top shelf of his closet, hidden under folded clothes. Sometimes I notice the slur of his words and I want so bad to say something, but I’m scared. Never have I been this happy. It’s a feeling I don’t want to lose, but is it worth living a lie? I have yet to figure that out. I tried—hard to protect my heart. But despite his many skeletons, he stole it like a thief in the night. I’m also very aware that I said that I wouldn’t allow myself to fall in love with a man who couldn’t give me all of him. But it was a war that raged within me. A push and pull effect between my heart and head. My heart won.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. A ringing sound pulls me from sleep. Aimlessly, I reach out to find my phone off the nightstand beside me. I try not to stretch too much so I won’t wake Karmen, who sleeps cuddled up to my side.

  Last night was crazy and intense. We took and gave and took again. I’m sure I left bruises on her beautiful body, but I wouldn’t take it back. Not one fucking second of it. Just as my fingers wrap around my phone, it starts ringing again. It’s five in the morning and my mom has called me twice, back to back.

  I swipe my finger across the screen and answer, “Mom?”

  “Oh, Brayden.” By the quiver in her voice I know something isn’t right. “Brayden¸ Brayden, Brayden.” She repeats my name over and over in a whisper.

  “What’s wrong?” I sit up and the movement causes Karmen to stir. Lazily she blinks up at me but right now, I’m concerned about the woman on the other end of the phone.

  “I need…” She doesn’t complete her sentence. Loud, muffled sobs steal her words.

  I hop up out of the bed and immediately pull on my jeans from the night before. “Mom, I need you to calm down,” I say slowly into the receiver. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your father,” she whispers into the phone. “He’s gone.”

  The world stops turning. My hand clenches the phone in my hand. Tunnel vision assaults me. A whooshing sound fills my ears. I can’t seem to breathe. My chest feels so tight. Every muscle in my fucking body is locked in place.

  “…den?”

  “…ayden?”

  “Brayden?”

  I can hear someone calling my name, but it sounds so far away. I can feel a hand on my face, but it doesn’t matter. I’m completely numb.

  “Look at me.” The voice barely breaks the barrier of the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. The hand turns my face to theirs. Karmen’s worried eyes are the first things I see. Everything comes rushing at me all at once. I gasp in deep lungful of air. The phone falls from my grasp. My knees threaten to give way.

  “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.” Her voice is soothing and calming all at the same time. I can tell she’s trying not to freak out.

  My eyes search her face for long seconds before I find my voice. “He’s gone.” The words crack as I say them.

  “Who’s gone?”

  “My dad,” I croak.

  Karmen’s eyes widen in surprise at the same time she gasps in shock. “Oh my God.”

  I don’t say anything. My arms hang limp by my sides as I stare straight ahead. Her arms wrap around my neck in a tight embrace. She whispers words of condolences in my ear, but I hear nothing. I don’t hug her back. She tells me she’s sorry, that she’s here for me, but all I hear are my mother’s broken sobs and her telling me he’s gone.

  “I need to find out where my mother is.” My voice is void of any and all emotion.

  Karmen pulls back and nods. Tears hang on the edge of her lids, on the verge of falling. I don’t mention it. I know they’re tears for me, my pain, and my loss. But they don’t penetrate my armor of numbness.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” She’s already dressing as she asks the question, but I shake my head no. Karmen drops her bra back on the floor and gives me a sad smile. “Okay.”

  “It’s nothing personal.”

  “I know.”

  I go into the closet, pull one of my shirts off the hanger, and slip it on. I escape the small walk-in and go to retrieve my phone off the floor. I reek of tequila and sex but fuck it. There are more pressing matters to attend to.

  “Brayden?” She says my name more as a question as opposed to a prayer.

  “What?” I don’t look up at her. I pull up my mother’s name. My finger hovers over the call button when Karmen places her hand over mine.

  “Will you keep me informed of what’s going on?” I nod. She pushes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

  “Call me if you need me, and I’ll be there,” she says, pulling back.

  “I will.” My lips find her forehead and it takes everything in me to pull away.

  I walk out of the room, leaving her there alone and worried about me. All I can seem to do is breathe a sigh of relief as I slip my feet into my shoes and push the call button. My mom answers on the first ring. I ask her where she is.

  “The hospital. Saint. Mary’s Regional. Can you come get me?” Her voice trembles and even though we’ve never been close, she’s my mother. I need to be there for her. It breaks my fucking heart to hear her like this.

  My feet carry me down the stairs, out of the building, and to my car. “Yeah. Give me fifteen minutes.”

  “I love you, Brayden. I know I haven’t told you nearly enough, but I do, very much,” she cries into the phone.

  Isn’t it funny how death will make a person see the error of their ways? It takes your perception on life and puts a completely different spin on it. Your faults stare you down. They taunt you into admitting your wrong doings. Death causes you to take a step back. It has you asking yourself if you’ve told the people who matter the most in your life, that you love them.

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  I pull into a parking spot in front of the hospital and rush inside to find my mother. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the beautiful yet desolate woman before me. In the corner of the waiting room, she sits, looking out a window. Her normally kept hair is a tangled mess. In her lap she holds tightly to her purse, like a shield. Gently, she rocks back and forth. Never in all my life have I seen my mother look so—lost.

  My approach is slow as I step towards her. “Mom.”

  She doesn’t turn to look at me, but as I get closer my heart fucking breaks. Silent tears fall helplessly from her red, puffy eyes. She does nothing to wipe them away. The tip of her nose and lips are red and swollen too.

  “I don’t know…what to do now?” Her voice is scratchy and rough from crying.

  “How did it happen?” Next to her, I sit. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together, and rest my forehead on my thumbs.

  “He had a heart attack.” I listen to her swallow over the emotion lodged in her throat. “He woke me up, complaining about a pain in his chest.” She shakes her head from side to side. “By the time we arrived here, it was too late.” My mother looks at me, and the pain in her eyes has me reaching out and pulling her into a hug. She buries her head in my chest. “I just don’t understand,” she cries. “I called the paramedics. I did exactly what everyone told me to do while we waited for them to arrive, and yet no one could save him.” Her arms wrap around my waist and she loses it. Her shoulders shake violently with the sobs wrenching from her tiny frame. “What do I do, Brayden? How do I move on? Where do I go from here?”

  “I don’t know.” I kiss the top of her head and murmur, “You take it one day at a time. One step at a time. You keep moving. That’s all you can do.”

  “Will you help me with going to the funeral home and all the arrangements? Oh God…” she cries. “I can’t do this…”

  “Shhh…I’m here, Mom. I’ll help you with everything,” I state as I squeeze her to me. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.” I murmur into her hair.

  Although I have no emotional attachment to my father at all, it kills me to see my mother like this. It kills me that
mine and my father’s words were nothing but hate fueled synonyms used to destroy each other. In their own twisted way, my parents really did love each other. And by the woman here in my arms, I know her world is now shattered. She’s lost her other half. Part of her soul has been torn from her. Though I have too many emotions running rampant to digest how I feel, I know within the depths of my being my mother will never be the same.

  In the dark, I sit, quiet, alone. Brayden left early this morning, and I haven’t been able to do anything but think of him. I’ve tried calling a couple of times but at the same time give him the space he obviously needs. But now it’s two in the morning and still nothing. No phone call. Not even a damn text.

  I’m worried.

  When my father passed, life was tough for a while. I shut down. I lost who I was as a person. I went through the motions, but I wasn’t living. Luckily for me, Tammy had enough strength to pull me out of my funk. The father he became when he found out he was dying replaced most every memory I had of him being the drunk he used to be. New memories, happy ones, took the place of the ones I choose not to remember. But with Brayden I know this will be different. From what I’ve been able to tell and piece together, him and his father’s relationship was strained, and I’m probably only scratching the surface.