by Joanna Sims
Chapter Fourteen
The decision to leave her bed that night and go to Brock wasn’t difficult to make. The full moon was so crisp and clear in the starless sky and cast a glowing yellow light through the large loft window. She hadn’t been able to sleep and she knew why. Brock was alone in the upstairs bedroom while she was alone in her bed—and it didn’t need to be that way. They didn’t need to be alone anymore. Not when they had each other.
Casey left the loft with poodle in hand—she quietly entered the house, dropped Hercules off with his girlfriend and then used the flashlight on her phone to light her footsteps up to the second floor. The same moonlight that had lit the loft was streaming into Brock’s bedroom and dancing across the bed where her man was sleeping.
She stood by the empty side of the bed and pulled her braid over her shoulder to pull the hair tie from the bottom of the braid. She slowly unbraided her hair until it was swinging loose down her back to the top of her derriere. Brock was snoring softly, lying on his side, unaware that she was in the room with him. He wouldn’t reject her. He had been patiently waiting for her. Casey pulled her nightie off and dropped it on the floor beside her bare feet. She hooked her thumbs on her silky bikini panties, slid them down over her hips, down to her ankles and then stepped free of them. Now she was completely naked in the moonlight. Vulnerable as she had never dared to allow herself to be before.
“Brock.” Casey said her love’s name.
Brock heard his name as if he were hearing it in the distance—in the fog—so soft that he thought he was dreaming it. When he opened his eyes to find an angel with pale, pale skin covered only by beautiful strands of red hair, he thought he had imagined her. That he had wanted Casey to come to him so badly that his mind had manufactured her likeness out of thin air.
“Brock.”
She said his name again and this time he knew that this was not a dream—she was real. Casey had finally come to him as he had willed her to do in his mind so many nights.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” His voice was husky from a mixture of sleep and need.
He saw her nod her head—he saw a small smile on her pretty pink lips. He pulled the covers back for her. As she walked the short distance to the bed, he soaked in the image of her ethereal body—so much softer and feminine in its nakedness. Her breasts were naturally rounded, not large, but perfectly shaped. The nipples—they had grown hard in his mouth. At the apex of her thighs there was a triangle of red curls. He wanted to bury his face there and taste her sweetness.
And then she was in his arms. Her skin was chilled from the night air—he covered her with the blanket and wrapped her tightly in his arms. She was shivering. He would have to go slow—it had been a long time in between lovers for both of them.
“This is it for me, Casey.” Brock curled his body around hers and kissed the back of her neck. “I love you.”
Casey responded by kissing his hand. “I love you.”
When her body was warmed, Brock let go of her just long enough to discard his underwear. She turned in his arms and they pressed their bodies together, for the warmth and the comfort. Her skin, so smooth and soft, was everything his skin wasn’t. He was hairy and rough—she felt like silk all over.
He kissed her, slowly so he could enjoy it and deeply so she was reminded of things to come. She tasted minty, like toothpaste, and she moved her hips into his body as he deepened the kiss.
She gasped the sweetest, sexiest gasp when he flicked his tongue across the hard tip of her nipple. He held her breast firmly in his hand and sucked her nipple until she dug her fingernails into his shoulder.
“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.”
Casey reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his erection.
Brock’s body shuddered at the touch of her hand—it had been years since a woman had touched him like that.
His need had been so great, for such a long time, that he had been afraid he wouldn’t be able to love her the way he wanted to on their first night. For weeks, he had been releasing himself so he could last long enough to bring her to climax. If he hadn’t been preparing his body, that first touch of her hand may have been his rapid, untimely undoing. Especially since they had agreed that condoms weren’t required—Casey had received a long-lasting birth control shot and neither of them had been sexually active in several years. Without a condom to reduce sensation, he could climax before they even got started.
“Are you okay?” he asked his love.
“I’m happy,” she said so quietly. “I love you.”
Brock worried that his hands were too big or too rough as he ran his fingers down her belly and along her muscular thighs. Her legs had grown so strong from a summer of riding—he could feel the power in them just as he felt the satin of her skin. He slipped his fingers between her thighs—so warm, so wet, so ready for him. He wanted to taste that warmth between her beautiful thighs, but he knew that he had to take his time with Casey. There would be time for more exploring and experimenting later. For now, he just wanted her to be comfortable in his arms, in his bed. He wanted her to adjust to his weight on top of her and the feel of having his body filling hers.
Casey started to tug on his arm, pulling him toward her. He lifted himself up and moved between her thighs. Brock held himself above her—he wanted to look down on her; what a pretty vision she created with her ivory skin against his dark sheets and her hair spread across his pillows.
She reached down between them to guide him. So tight. So tight and warm and slick. He slid his body into hers and they moaned in unison. Her body completely enveloped him; she felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Their bodies fit together so perfectly—it didn’t make sense, but it didn’t have to.
Brock lowered his body until his chest was pressed against her breasts. He slid his arms beneath their bodies so he could hold her even tighter against his chest. She mirrored him, wrapping her arms and legs around his body—drawing him in deeper and deeper.
“Am I too heavy for you?” he asked when he heard her gasp.
She gasped again and he lifted up his body just in time to see how the woman he loved looked when she climaxed. He stopped moving his body so she could set the rhythm, so she could use his body to prolong the orgasm. When she cried out again, and he felt the wetness of her release on his thighs, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
“God, God, God...” Brock’s body shuddered and his arms tightened around Casey.
After a minute of Brock laying his full weight on top of her, Casey pushed on his shoulder with a languid laugh.
“Now you’re too heavy for me.”
He carefully disconnected their bodies then rolled onto his back. “Come over here with me.”
Casey curled up next to her bear of a man—she rested her arm on his shoulder, her hand on his furry chest, and put her leg over his thick thigh.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes with a contented sigh. “We’re really good at that.”
Brock laughed and kissed her on her damp forehead. “We are good at that.”
“I’m going to sleep now, okay?” Casey turned over onto her other side.
“Me, too.” He turned with her.
Brock shaped his body to hers, his arm beneath her body and holding her across her chest. “I love you.”
Casey tilted her head back so she could kiss him one last time. “I love you, sweet man.”
* * *
That first night of loving sparked a wild week of lovemaking. The more comfortable Casey became with him, the more risks she wanted to take. In fact, he wasn’t usually the aggressor in the sexual arena—she was. She would come up behind him when he was cooking, unzip his pants and stimulate him with her hands. He could count several ruined meals because he wasn’t about to pass up an i
nvitation like that from Casey. She also enjoyed making love in the morning. He’d wake up with her mouth getting him hard and ready. Those were his favorite mornings—groggy with a raging hard-on and the love of his life climbing on top of him. That lovemaking was always sensual and slow, with Casey covering his body with hers, both of them beneath the covers. He’d wake up every morning that way if he could.
They loved each other so much that their body parts were sore—but it didn’t matter. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other and they didn’t want to keep their hands off each other. And that included when they were supposed be showering to go out.
Instead of waiting for her turn in the shower, Casey opened the shower door and stepped inside. Brock was standing with his back to her, rinsing the soap off the front part of his body. She ran her hands across his back and started to lick little droplets of water from his skin.
“Mmm. That feels nice, baby.”
Brock turned around so they could hug each other while the hot water ran over their bodies. It didn’t take long for her to feel his body start to respond. She leaned back and smiled up at him.
“Look at what you do to me—all you have to do is touch me.”
Casey lowered her body down, running her hands over his stomach.
“I need to lose a couple of pounds,” he said about his less-than-flat stomach.
Casey put her finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
When she took him in her mouth, he reached out to steady himself by putting his hands flat on either side of the shower. The hotness of the shower, the hotness of her mouth—he knew what she wanted from him—she wanted him hard and ready to love her. And that’s exactly what she got.
Brock lifted Casey up into his arms, walked her to the edge of the shower so her back was pressed against the cool tile and while he was kissing her, he was sliding her down onto his shaft.
“Ah...” Casey dropped her head back as he kissed the water from her neck.
“It’s too damn slippery in here.” Brock laughed. “I need to put something on the floor to keep my feet from sliding.”
Casey wiped the water off his face and kissed his lips. “Take me to the bed.”
Their bodies dripping puddles of water on the floor, Brock carried her to the bed and laid her back with her legs hanging off the side. Still standing, he guided himself back into her body and pushed her knees to her chest. They had loved each other enough that they could look into each other’s eyes as they made love—and this was an entirely new position to enjoy.
Casey arched her back to take him deeper and then he hit something that hurt. She pulled away and held out her hand.
“Are you okay?”
She frowned with her hand on her abdomen. “That hurt.”
“You get on top so you’re in control,” Brock told her.
That seemed to work. There wasn’t any more pain. She rode him exactly the way she wanted to while he watched. She knew that he loved the feel of her hair brushing against his thighs when she was on top of him, so she tilted her head back and let her long hair slip across the tops of his legs.
Harder, faster, deeper, stronger—he let her choose the pace and the rhythm. So close, so close... Casey opened her eyes to find Brock staring at her.
“Come with me.” Casey put her hands on his chest and bore down on him.
Brock grabbed her hips and pushed her down onto his erection—faster and faster, harder and harder.
Casey dug her fingernails into his chest and tossed her head back at the same time he thrust all the way up inside her. Together, they climaxed, and Casey heard herself scream so loudly that it was fortunate that they didn’t have close neighbors to hear her.
She collapsed on top of her lover, completely satisfied and happy.
“God I love you, Casey.” Brock held her closely, his fingers in her wet hair.
She loved how this man felt, how he smelled, the sound of his voice, the way he loved her with his words and with his body.
“I love you.”
Simple. To the point. True.
* * *
Later that night, after they had made love again, Brock was propped up on pillows and holding her in his arms. He was rubbing her back with his strong hands, kneading her shoulder muscles and making her moan in an entirely different way.
“Do you want babies, Casey?”
“Yes,” she murmured, not wanting him to stop the massage.
“Soon?”
“Yes.” She turned her head so it was flat on his fuzzy chest.
“I’ll give you as many babies as you want,” Brock promised her. “Motherhood is going to look so good on you.”
“Fatherhood already looks good on you.”
They talked about the future and how the logistics could work. Casey had her condo in Chicago that needed to be leased or sold and then there was her job she had to consider. She loved her school. She loved her fellow educators. She loved her students. It would be hard to give up everything she had built there and start anew in Helena. But at least she had the type of career that could be translated to even a small community like Helena, Montana. She had to work. Even after they started a family—work would always be an important part of her life. Casey broached the topic of Clint and the tension it was causing with her sister, and to Brock’s credit, he promised that he would try, for her sake, to forge a different path, a better path, with his stepbrother.
And, most important on his end of things, there was Hannah. She needed time to adjust to the reality of the divorce. Yes, her mother had been living in California for a while, but the divorce had officially ended that chapter. It wouldn’t be right for her—for any of them—for Brock to jump right back into a marriage with Casey. And Casey had always believed that Brock needed time to process the end of his first marriage. Of course, she was concerned about her fertility window. Yes, she was still young enough to bear a child, but the clock was ticking. But, at least for now, she just wanted to enjoy the time she had left of her summer vacation, having fun and making love with Brock.
Casey had been in a deep sleep, curled onto her side with Brock’s warm body pressed against her. A sharp, stabbing pain, like an ice pick being shoved into her stomach, made her jerk away from Brock. She lurched forward, eyes open, hands pressed into her abdomen.
“Oh!” she cried out. Her loud cry awakened Brock.
“What’s wrong?” He knocked items off the bedside table on his way to switching on the light.
Casey pushed herself to the edge of the bed. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”
She got herself out of bed and ran to the bathroom. She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it.
Brock had followed her and was outside the door calling her name. “Casey.” He knocked on the door. “Casey!”
Casey crumpled onto the floor holding her stomach—the pain was so strong that she felt like she was going to pass out or be sick.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” she tried to reassure Brock.
Through her tears, Casey noticed a large spot of blood on the nightshirt she had put on right before she’d gone to sleep.
“Casey! Did you get your period? There’s blood on the sheets.”
“I don’t think so...” She forced herself to stand up so she could get herself cleaned up. “It’s not time.”
* * *
Putting off going to the gynecologist was no longer an option. Taylor talked the receptionist into squeezing Casey in for an appointment the day after she had started the irregular bleeding. She had experienced spotting and pain before, but had always chalked it up to her diagnosis of endometriosis and nothing more. Even the times when the sex with Brock was a little painful, she had always attributed it to her previous diagnosis. But this pain and this bleeding were not normal.
&nbs
p; The doctor took her history, conducted a pelvic exam, made contact with her recently fired, but not yet replaced, gynecologist and collected urine and blood. Brock and Taylor didn’t hesitate to put aside their differences and focus on Casey. Brock waited in the waiting room while Taylor held her sister’s hand through the transvaginal ultrasound and an endometrial biopsy.
Several days later, the tests results were back and she was back in Dr. Hall’s office with Taylor by her side and Brock in the waiting room. But even after the doctor gave her a diagnosis, explained her treatment options and then gave her some time to process the information with her sister, Casey’s mind had gone completely blank. There was a noise in her head like a TV station that had just gone off the air—and she could hear her sister talking to her, but it sounded like she was talking to her with a tin can on a string.
“I have to go talk to Brock,” Casey finally said after a minute of staring at a jar of tongue depressors on the table across the room.
“Okay.” Taylor stood up and put her arm around Casey’s shoulders. “Let’s go talk to Brock.”
Brock wasn’t sitting down where they had left him. He was standing just outside the door, pacing on the sidewalk in front of the doctor’s office. Casey finished her business with the receptionist before she went outside to see Brock.
“Hey!” Brock spotted her and came immediately to her side. “What did the doctor say?”
“Um...” Casey slipped her hand into his. “I’d rather tell you after we get in the truck, okay?”
Casey saw Brock and Taylor exchange a look. Taylor hugged her sister and said, “I’m going to let the two of you be alone. Call me the minute you get back to the ranch, Casey. We have to figure out our next steps.”
Casey hugged her sister tightly, so grateful for her. “I will.”
It was nice to see Taylor and Brock rally during a crisis—it made her feel like there was hope for them to all be able to get along. Taylor surprised both of them by hugging Brock before she got into her truck and drove away.
