He stood up. She knew he was going to leave. “Don’t go. Trevor can sleep in Katy’s bed. Please.” What was he thinking? He studied her in an odd way before framing her cheeks with the palms of his hands. He then slowly lowered his mouth to hers, tenderly at first, brushing her lips with a light and teasing air, and then something snapped in him as he pulled her up. It was by no means anything gentle; a fierce possession letting her know that what she’d hoped would happen tonight, would.
Chapter Thirty-One
Brad broke away; he rocked her heart. The soft play of Disney music filled the background. Brad scooped Trevor off the sofa and set him in Katy’s bed. Emily covered him with the pink comforter and stepped into the hall with Brad. The way he watched Trevor—she realized this man would move mountains for his son.
When he turned to her, she reached out to him. But her hand trembled, when she started to wonder if she was what Brad really wanted. He must have sensed her hesitation, as he leaned down and whispered to her the words she needed to hear.
“It’s all right. It’s just you and me in this moment, Em.” He lowered his head and his lips touched hers. His passion was unrestrained; a kiss hard, deep... One that told a woman she meant something. He lifted her in his arms, breaking the kiss only to ask, “The bedroom in here?”
“Uh, huh.”
Her heart thudded as he set her on the bed, pressing his body into her, once again capturing her mouth with his. It was amazing how this man, and his overwhelming power, could tell her with a touch, a caress, that she was wanted—she was needed. She ached for him; he too seemed hurried as he broke away, unbuttoning her blouse and her jeans and had her laying naked beneath him. He yanked off his shirt and pants, tossing everything in a heap on the floor. The hall light teased the room with a hint of light, enough that Emily swallowed hard at the image of this man. Oh, wow—he’s magnificent. With clothes on, he looked great. Seeing him now, in all his naked splendor, took her breath away. He had a solid mass of muscles on his wide expanse of a chest. Slim hips, no beer belly on this man, his lean hard stomach, the shape and strength of his thighs were solid and artfully constructed. There was no indecision; just anticipation and awareness that this man knew how to make love to a woman.
He moved with her. She twined her legs with his; he gazed deeply into her eyes for a few seconds, before leaning down and paying homage to her small perky breasts. His tongue touched and licked the first nipple, then he slowly took it in his mouth, lavishing, while being attentive to the other—to all of her. His hand drifted down, touching, caressing. Sweet torment was building, as she rustled against him when a tremble engulfed her.
Tossing her head back and forth, she didn’t know how much more she could take, and she finally pleaded with him, “Brad… please, now.”
“Not yet, we have time. Tonight, I’m going feel you buck beneath me; over and over again.” His hand continued to explore up the line of her thighs, pressing as he spread her legs wide. He explored and teased, lightly tracing the soft jewel where her legs joined, feeling how wet and ready she was for him. She couldn’t hold still as he slipped his finger in. He was enjoying her torment while she begged him to complete her.
Emily grasped his shoulders. She tried to pull him to her, but he wouldn’t move, instead he watched and held her burning gaze. It was equal parts, thrilling and frustrating; the way he toyed with her, bringing her to the brink of madness. She moaned, unable to suppress it any longer. He covered her mouth with his, a kiss so powerful and deep; his tongue mimicking the age-old art of loving. He spread her legs wide, guiding her to wrap them around his waist, running his hands smoothly over her curves. Cupping her buttocks, he slowly entered her. The way he watched her, she knew she was completely at his mercy. He touched her lip with the tip of his tongue; peered at her through hooded eyes. She gave herself up completely. A full surrender that left her gasping, flying and soaring together to music all their own. Something cracked the thin wall around her heart and she shut her eyes, swallowed by the age-old dance they shared together, and allowed herself to let go. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with a catlike grin, as he lay sprawled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. She didn’t want him to move; she wanted to absorb the magnitude of the feelings he’d managed to elicit from each cell, deep inside. A paradise she didn’t want to end. Never in her life had she experienced this intense passion. A man, who knew what he wanted, understood what she needed and how to make her lose control.
He leaned on his elbows, looking down at her and smoothing her hair back. She saw the fire glitter in his eyes before he pulled away, rolled on his back and threw his arm over his forehead. Did he regret what we did? Her heart sank for just a minute. She leaned over and touched his chest ever so lightly, almost fearful he may flee at any given moment. “Are you okay?”
He cupped her cheek, and she kissed his palm absorbing his touch. He winced as he pulled her close. Surrounding her with his arms, her legs tangled with his; he brushed his lips across her forehead and traced circles down her back.
She could feel something change inside him, as if he were pulling away. She waited with her cheek resting against his chest. She sucked in her bottom lip and pressed her teeth into the tender flesh, waiting for reality to speak. For him to say the words. Yeah, Em, thanks—this was great, but I have to get Trevor home.
He smacked his lips. He sucked in a breath. Okay, here it comes. She scrunched her eyes closed. “Em, are you on the pill? I mean, we didn’t use a condom, which was really stupid.” She darted up and looked him squarely in the eye while his hands ran up and down her back and over her bottom. She blinked, trying to understand what he’d said. He raised one brow, expecting an answer. She blinked again. “No…there was never a need. I haven’t well, had…well—let’s just say it’s been over a year, but it’s the wrong time of the month. I’m pretty good at knowing when it’s…you know…” This was really embarrassing, even after what they shared. She’d never thought about it.
His lips twitched at her demure way of explaining. Then he held her face between the palms of his hands, forcing her to look at him and he crooked his eyebrow up. “Em, come on, just admit it; we didn’t use any protection, and there’s a pretty big chance you’re carrying my kid now.”
She shivered at the thought of carrying his child. Wow, until now, she’d not thought of having more. “God, how I’d love to have your baby.” Where had they come from? She slapped her hand over her mouth, wishing it back. It was too soon; she could scare him away. But she was so tired of hiding her feelings. She didn’t want to take it back.
Brad said nothing; just watched her in an odd distant way. She wanted to ask if he wanted more children, if he’d stay. She wanted to know what he was thinking. But she said nothing as she slid her leg with his, and snuggled in closer. And for a moment, as she shut her eyes, she dreamed of a forever connection.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Emily rested her elbow on the kitchen table. She sipped on a cup of coffee, searching the hot black liquid for some sign or answer. The wall clock ticked; it was after eleven, and Bob had promised to return Katy before lunch on Sunday, so he could pull in anytime.
Brad had stayed all night. And true to his word, he’d made love to her throughout the night, waking her several times. Although tired, she felt more energized than she had in years. She’d cooked a big breakfast for Brad and Trevor. They’d lingered over a few cups of coffee. Neither wanted this to end. But he had no choice. He had a ranch to run. He needed to leave.
Never had Emily felt the intense comfort of being with the right guy. The one who sends your heart and soul to a natural high, and if they leave, you’d swear your heart will blister into a million pieces. Emily held up her bare ring finger and didn’t feel even a flicker of remorse, because, with Bob, she’d never experienced this kind of passion; this kind of bliss. Waking in Brad’s arms as he slowly entered her, was a passion far more vivid, more potent. She’d swear she’d died an
d gone to heaven, or someplace close. Even the shower they’d shared after the sun came up had been filled with such creative passion. Emily rinsed out her mug and wandered to the front window. She sighed, wishing for Brad to return. But he left after kissing her long and thoughtfully, without promises or frilly words—nothing. He had a dragon to slay; a conflict to end. Afterward, he’d return and be her everything.
Chapter Thirty-Three
For the first time, in what felt like forever, Brad felt the oppressive weight lift off. Watching Emily come apart beneath him, her shy glances and her tender touch, was the purest, simplest form of love. He shook his head. Five years ago, he’d never have given her a second look. But, right now, he wanted to get down on his knees and thank whoever had steered her his way. Emily was a complicated, wise and powerful soul, and Brad knew the short, feisty, brown-haired beauty would fight heaven and earth for what was right. The opposite of the shallow flashy women toward whom he’d always gravitated.
Brad turned down his long dirt driveway, and felt the heaviness drop back down on him like a sack of potatoes. How could he hate a place he loved so much?
He swallowed hard as he remembered what a callow, stupid ass he was. He created this mess because of who he was. He loved that superficial lust with Crystal, she looked good hanging off his arm and that’s all he ever wanted, anything deeper would have sent him running for the hills. Crystal simply was who she was. It was his fault for pursuing her.
Brad scratched his head and glanced at Trevor as he remembered Crystal’s horror the day she found out she was pregnant. Brad had laughed and brushed it off to simple hysterics, that she was scared of being a mother…and convinced himself she’d get used to it. Only as he’d allowed himself to face the truth did he realize that it was more than that; Crystal never wanted children, because she was still very much a child.
She couldn’t care for someone who depended on her. She wasn’t that strong, or maybe she was just too selfish. Reflecting and admitting the truth was a bitter pill to swallow; he cared for her then—a one-sided deal.
Crystal looked after the surface stuff, spending his money, redecorating the house, and enjoying a lifestyle to which she actually believed herself entitled.
An only child, she was doted upon by her mother and father who were by no means wealthy, but they’d given her anything and everything she’d ever wanted. There were no teachings of the value of money, commitment, moderation, and responsibility. But then, Brad hadn’t listened either.
His daddy was a good man. He’d pulled him aside weeks before the wedding, reminding him that this was his choice and his alone to live with. That he would never say another word, but he expected him to listen now. Girls like Crystal were fun to play with. She was shallow and not the marrying kind; she’ll never be devoted to you or any kids you want. Brad had been furious and lashed out at his father. He’d told him he was just jealous he’d found someone this dazzling. His father nearly hit him. Brad winced now as he squeezed the steering wheel in his truck. He was ashamed; he wished his father had decked him. He'd deserved it. Brad hadn’t spoken to his father since then, his mom occasionally…but he never told her what was going on.
As the oldest, the ranch passed to Brad. His father and younger brother bought 10,000 acres down on the Yucatan Peninsula—their idea of a small ranch.
He visited his mother once, with Crystal, right after Trevor was born. His father was then in Panama; whether planned or coincidence, Brad didn’t know. Now he wished for his daddy’s advice, to make peace and bridge the gulf widening with each day’s passing.
When he and Crystal married, he looked after her, handled everything. He paid the bills and was generous with providing her money and credit cards. She’d no concept of value, and continually exceeded her credit limit.
The first time he spoke with her, he’d been blunt. “I’m not an untapped well.”
She’d panicked and carried on in such a way anyone would have thought the world was coming to an end. He was astounded by what she spent on clothes alone. She never batted an eye at dropping a few thousand on a designer outfit. Shopping was her favorite past time, and he’d always given in, especially after she became pregnant.
So when did the blinders come off?
After she had Trevor, Brad truly believed she’d take one look at the infant and fall in love, just as he had. That she’d stay home and become a good wife and doting mother. He was sure the innate nurturing instinct, that existed in women from the beginning of time, would finally emerge. He just assumed it was natural.
But nothing went as planned. After she gave birth, she’d refused to hold the baby. He’d watched painfully as she seemed to go into a depressive slump, more concerned with how she looked and what giving birth and the pregnancy had done to her precious body.
Brad had made excuses for her behavior. It was the ordeal of giving birth, she was tired…she’d eventually come around. But the nurses had known better. He’d ignored their knowing looks, especially after her outright refusal to breast-feed when the nurse had encouraged her to try and get him latched on. The nurse had tried to explain the importance of a mother’s milk. She’d screamed back that she didn’t want her breasts to get saggy.
Brad didn’t worry too much as many mothers chose to bottle-feed. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.
But things escalated after they were home. She’d wanted a nanny for Trevor. Brad had put his foot down and refused. He lost his temper. “As Trevor’s mother, I expect you look after him.” Crystal had screamed like a two-year-old and called her mother. Of course, the next thing Brad knew, his mother-in-law had moved in and was looking after the baby. Betty had a heart condition. After weeks of looking after the baby and Crystal, dark circles appeared under her eyes. Brad sat her down. “What the hell are you doing, Betty?”
She cried and hung her head. “I’m so sorry, Brad; me and Crystal’s daddy are to blame. We loved her so much, and we struggled when we were growing up; we didn’t want her to have to do without. Not like we did. I’m so sorry, Brad; we never taught her responsibility or how to make her own way. We made everything easy for her.”
Brad felt horrible for the woman’s pain, but he didn’t make it easier. “She expects everything to be handed to her, for you to wait hand and foot on her. You have to stop. You’re not helping the situation. She’ll never grow up.”
Betty had stiffened her lip. “She’s my daughter and I love her. And I love that Grandbaby. I can’t stop.” And she hadn’t; she doted all her love on Trevor until, a few months later, she’d suffered a stroke in her sleep one night, and passed away in the hospital a few days later. It had nearly destroyed Crystal.
Crystal had been like a lost child, turning to Brad, not knowing what to do. Her father had died ten years earlier. Brad remained hopeful that she’d finally become a mother to Trevor. Instead, what had happened rocked his world. She’d packed her bags and slipped out of the house a week later, leaving Trevor alone. Mary Haske had arrived to clean just before lunchtime and heard the pitiful wail of a crying baby. Brad had, foolishly, left him with Crystal and headed to the North field.
Mary had searched the house, looking for Crystal. When Brad drove the tractor in to have lunch, he’d found a ruffled Mary, irate and panicked, holding Trevor in her arms.
Mary’s eyes had been damp and red-rimmed, and Brad’s heart dropped like lead into his stomach when he heard those gut-wrenching words. She’d found Trevor alone, crying in his crib, no one there to hear him. Mary had been furious, and demanded to know where Crystal was. His blood ran cold. At first he’d thought she was hurt somewhere, as he hurried into the house to search. Instead, he’d felt the center drop out of him when he’d raced into the bedroom and pulled open the closet, only to discover her clothes, makeup, jewelry—everything was gone. The fury that had stolen over him, that she could have left Trevor alone, had made him physically shake with fear. What if Mary hadn’t come? He’d collapsed to the floor right in front of
Mary. Then, when it sunk in, he’d put his fist through the wall and bloodied his knuckles. That physical pain was welcome. The other was not. The tears had stung the back of his eyes as he’d held his boy tight, for a long time, before leaving him in the care of Mary Haske.
Brad had spent a week tracking Crystal down. It was through his credit cards that he’d been able to find her, in Hawaii, and that nightmare episode had ensued.
He still remembered the humiliation he’d felt when he left without her. Crystal had stayed away. The weeks turned into months. He’d kept track of where she was. She only phoned when she’d needed money, and never once had she asked about Trevor.
Now, after all this time, she’d come home—to suddenly be Trevor’s mother? He knew it wasn’t true. She could barely stand being in the same room with him. And if by chance she was; she always found a reason to leave. Brad would never be that careless again. He saw it in her eyes; she worried that Brad would demand that she look after him. No, he would never do that again. Then it struck him, it was the security he offered. He’d become her safety net. He handled everything for her, allowed her to have anything she wanted. Even with her gone for the last two-plus years, he’d foolishly continued to pay for everything for her. But no more. She’d made a big mistake. She’d used this child, his precious child. And she’d forced the one woman who truly cared for him and Trevor, out of his house. Emily, who had fought for Trevor’s future and helped him see what Trevor truly needed.
“Home sweet home, Trevor.”
He’d barely lifted Trevor from the truck when Crystal stormed out, decked out as if she were going to town, wearing black jeans, a white blouse, and not a hair out of place.
And the way she dug in with each step, Brad knew that hell itself would be a lot more peaceful.
He held Trevor and watched this pitiful, greedy woman, and the anger she held close. How could he have loved, let alone worshipped, the ground she walked on? There had to be something wrong with him.
Danger Deception Devotion The Firsts Page 29
