by J. E. Parker
Standing, Brantley picked up the large white bag he’d sat on the counter minutes earlier. “Ready to see what I got you two?” he asked Liam and Declan.
Both boys nodded.
With a smile on his face, Brantley opened the bag and pulled out two white-tissue wrapped packages. He handed one to each of the boys and stepped back, waiting for them to tear them open.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Torn pieces of tissue fluttered to the floor as the sound of ripping material filled the room. Liam got his opened first. His eyes widened to the size of saucers when he held his gift up in the air, inspecting it. “Brantley, dude!” he hollered, his excitement palpable. “You got me a Peyton Manning jersey!”
I snickered at him calling Brantley dude.
I’d heard Declan use the expression before but never Liam.
“I got one too!” Declan yelled next, just as, if not more excited than his big brother. “Mama, look,” he added, holding the jersey up in the air for me to see. “It’s a Bronco’s jersey!”
“I see that, baby.” I laughed. “Do you like it?”
He nodded, his eyes still glued to his gift.
“Can we try them on?” Liam asked, bouncing his gaze from Brantley to me.
Arms crossed over his wide chest, Brantley nodded toward the stairs. “Go ahead,” he answered, smiling. “Your Mama and me will figure out what we’re going to do for supper while you’re upstairs.”
Both boys took off.
Liam, however, stopped after five steps.
Seeing his brother stop, Declan did the same.
Looking back at Brantley over his shoulder, Liam smiled. Big. “Hey, Brantley,” he said, happier than I’d ever seen him. “Want to know something?”
Brantley nodded. “Yeah, buddy, I do.”
“If you wanted to marry my mama, I’d be okay with that.”
“Me too,” Declan added. “Then you could be our daddy.”
My breath caught in my chest, and a buzzing sound filled my ears as I waited for Brantley, who looked dazed, to respond. Several seconds passed, and my pulse increased as my heart slammed against my ribcage. Then, when I felt on the verge of either fainting or puking, he replied. That reply? “Nothing would make me happier, buddy.”
Falling, falling… I keep falling.
Declan’s eyes twinkled. “Hey, Brantley,” he said, repeating the same thing his brother had said moments before. “Can my new bedroom be the one at the end of the hall?”
Brantley froze.
He looked over at me, an unspoken question in his eyes.
I smiled in response. “They know,” I whispered, referring to us moving in with he and Bella, “and they’re happy about it.”
If possible, the smile that tipped Brantley’s lips up was bigger than Declan’s. “You can have whichever room you want.”
“Cool!”
Without so much as another word, both boys disappeared up the stairs, and from the sounds of their heavy footsteps, down the hall where three vacant bedrooms sat.
“Daddy,” Bella said, cutting through the silence that surrounded us. “What was Dec talking about? Why’s he need a room? Are the boys spending the night?”
“Brantley,” I whisper-hissed. “Tell her. Please.”
Knowing what her reaction would be caused excitement to zip through me.
He winked at me before looking down at Bella. “Princesa, how would you like for Clara and the boys to live with us?”
Silence.
Complete and utter silence.
Then, “The boys and Clara are gonna live with us?” She screamed loud enough to shatter glass. “Like forever and ever?” Before Brantley or I could even answer her, Bella took off for the stairs, leaving her flowers sitting on the countertop next to what I assumed were mine. “Boys!” She shouted. “We’re gonna live together! We’re gonna be a family!”
Her excited shrieks followed her up the stairs and down the hall toward where the boys had likely disappeared. Biting back laughter, I looked at Brantley. “I’d say she’s a tad bit excited.”
Without warning, Brantley wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me toward him. I stumbled, falling into him.
His hands gripped my hips, steadying me.
“Careful, bella dama,” he whispered against my temple. “We wouldn’t want you to fall.” He slipped a finger under my chin, tilting my face up. “You haven’t touched your flowers yet,” he whispered, his eyes searching my own.
“That’s because you haven’t given them to me yet,” I sassed.
Smirking, Brantley reached over and picked up the bundle of fresh roses.
He took a small step back and placed them in my waiting arms.
“They’re beautiful,” I replied, feeling my emotions well in my chest as I stroked the soft petals with my fingertips. “Thank you, Pretty Boy.”
“Not as beautiful as you.” He paused. “Then again, nothing is.”
“You keep buttering me up and I may end up in your bed tonight.”
He hummed. “You won’t hear me complain.”
“Good because—”
My mouth snapped shut when someone rang the doorbell.
Ding, ding, ding!
“Stay here, Firecracker. I’ll get it.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before turning and walking away.
After he walked away, I reached under the island and pulled out two glass vases; both of which looked as expensive as could be. I’d just filled the first up with water, when I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of a familiar voice.
“Hey there, Mr. Good Looking. I see you’re wearing a shirt today.” She paused. “That’s a daggum shame.”
Brantley chuckled. “What do you need Grandmama? Clara and I were about to make supper plans.”
“Well,” she said, speaking loud enough for me to hear her all the way in the kitchen, “I’ve come to steal my grandbabies. I’ve decided to have a sleepover at my house and I’m rounding them up. I’ve already grabbed Lucca, Melody, and Ashley. They’re over yonder at my house watching TV, waiting for supper to get done.” She paused; Brantley remained silent. “I tried to talk Hope into letting me take Ryker so she could get some rest but that daggum brother of yours growled at me. The big bastard. I almost whooped him with my cane. And I didn’t even bother to ask Maddie about letting me keep Maci. Hendrix Cole, damned bullheaded man that he is, would’ve had an aneurysm.”
I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.
Poor Evan and Hendrix… Both are on Grandmama’s shitlist.
“So what’cha say? You gonna let me take them for the night? Or do I need to ask my favorite redhead? I can convince her to say yes by throwing a chicken wing or two at her.”
That time, I did laugh. Hard.
Grandmama thinks I can be bought with chicken wings…
… She would be right.
“I’ll send the kids over in a few minutes,” Brantley replied, still chuckling. “The boys are upstairs trying on the football jerseys I bought them while Bella no doubt supervises.”
“Huh,” Grandmama replied. “Would ya look at that? Spoiling them already. Good job.” Another brief pause. “Well, I’m gonna head back. Send them on over first thing though. And remember, don’t feed them either cause I’ve got stuff cooking.”
“Will do,” Brantley replied. “Later, Grandmama.”
He didn’t give her a chance to reply before shutting the door.
Seconds later, he walked back into the kitchen, a huge smile in place.
“What’s that smile for?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.
“This,” he said, pointing to his tipped lips, “is because I get you all to myself for the night.”
I sat the water-filled vase down on the counter and looked at him over my shoulder. “You sound like you’ve been waiting for such a night.”
“Only all my life, bella dama.”
Me too, I mentally replied
. Me frickin’ too.
Clara
I was being sneaky.
Really sneaky.
Standing in the center of Brantley’s dimmed bedroom, I stared at the half-opened bathroom door where he was taking a shower, my heart in my throat. Billowing clouds of steam filled the room, fogging the mirror, and blocking any chance I had of glimpsing his nude reflection.
It was disheartening.
Not knowing how much time I had left until he finished, I stripped out of my clothes and kicked them toward his closet where they joined his in a pile on the floor next to the hamper.
Heart pounding, I grabbed the white bag I’d placed on his bed minutes earlier and dumped out its contents onto the mattress.
Candles. Lighter. Condoms.
The sight of the condoms made my belly flip.
Don’t think too much, I told myself. Just move.
Grabbing the small candles and lighter, I placed them around the room, lighting them as I went. When that was done, I moved into Brantley’s closet where I removed one of his black dress shirts from a hanger. Without hesitating, I slipped it on. The expensive fabric felt like butter against my chill bump covered skin and knowing it was Brantley’s shirt that I wore made me feel sexier than any piece of lingerie ever could.
Flicking off the light, I moved out of the closet and to the end of the bed, where I plopped my butt onto the edge of the mattress. Tossing the brand-new condoms toward the head of the bed next to the pillows, I turned and faced the bathroom door.
Then, I waited.
After what felt like forever, Brantley turned the shower off.
The glass door made a clicking noise as he pushed it open and stepped out. He cleared his throat as he ripped the bath towel from the wall rack and wrapped it around his big—and sexy as could be—body. Next, I heard the faucet turn on, followed by the sound of him brushing his teeth.
Growing more nervous by the second, I prayed for him to hurry the heck up before I lost my nerve.
I wanted to see his face when he stepped into his bedroom and saw me sitting on the end of his bed, dressed only in his shirt, waiting for him.
He has no idea I’m here…
Earlier, after sending all three kids to Grandmama’s house for the night, we’d ordered delivery for dinner. Mexican to be exact. He got fajitas; I got tacos. After we were done eating, he turned on some action movie—what the name of it was, I don’t have the slightest clue—and I fell asleep with my head on his lap.
When I woke it was after nine.
I’d told him I needed to get home because I wanted to start packing as soon as possible. He fought me tooth and nail, but when he realized I wouldn‘t relent, he let up. Still, he tried to get his way by offering to go home with me and help.
Telling him no was hard.
But lying to him was even harder.
You see, I had no intention of going home.
Instead, I got in my car and drove up the street. After five minutes passed, I drove back to his house—which earned me a confused look from Evan, who was sitting on he and Hope’s front porch—and slipped in using the key he’d given me weeks before.
It was a risky move, but Brantley was a creature of habit and I knew where he would be, and what he would be doing.
Which brings me to now.
Me, dressed in only his silk shirt, sitting on his bed.
God. Help. Me.
My nerves were a mess but my desire for him was strong, giving me the strength I needed to push through and claim what I wanted.
And what I wanted was Brantley.
Obviously, we’d had sex before, but I meant for this to be different.
Before had been about casting out my demons and reclaiming my body and mind from the monster who had inflicted so many scars—mentally, physically, and emotionally—on me.
This time it was only about Brantley and me.
I won’t let Colin intrude on tonight.
I won’t let him steal anymore happiness from me.
He’s already taken enough.
The multitude of thoughts had only just crossed my mind when the bathroom door opened all the way, and he, the man who’d somehow snuck past my defenses and wormed his way into my heart, appeared.
Wearing only a white towel wrapped around his waist, he looked mouthwatering. His deep honey-toned skin glistened as drops of water fell from his hair, landing on his shoulders. They slid over his chest and down his granite abs, creating water-lined roadmaps I wanted to follow with my tongue.
Jesus, I thought. It should not be legal for a man to be that beautiful.
Brows furrowed, Brantley’s gaze was locked on the phone he held in his hand, instead of the room that surrounded him. Because of that, he didn’t see me nor the lit candles decorating his dresser and nightstands.
Shaking his head, he turned, giving me his back.
Leaning against the frame of his bathroom door, he tapped away at the screen of his phone before lifting it to his ear. A few seconds passed. Then, “Clara, bella dama, it’s me. Call me when you get this so I know you got home okay.” He dipped his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I wish you would’ve stayed, Firecracker. This house is too big”—he paused—“too quiet without you and the kids here.” Another pause. “Call me back. I need to know you’re safe, baby.”
His shoulders slumped as he ended the call and dropped his arm to his side. “God-fucking-damnit,” he cursed. “I shouldn’t have let her leave.”
A frown marred my face.
Even though I couldn’t see his expression, it was clear from his body language and barely audible words that he wasn’t happy.
I didn’t like that. Not one bit.
Needing to comfort him, I stood.
“Brantley…” His name was a whispered plea for him to face me. “Turn around, honey. I’m right here.” At the sound of my voice, he turned, his eyes locking with mine. “Surprise,” I said, extending my arms.
His jaw ticked even as relief danced in his eyes. “Thought you went home?”
Determined not to falter despite the nervous energy bubbling beneath my skin, I stood tall and shrugged, a sneaky smile gracing my face. “Nope,” I stated truthfully. “I drove up the road and came right back. I knew you’d be in the shower, so I used my key and snuck in.”
“Why?” He asked, his voice guttural.
“I made plans for us and wanted to surprise you.”
“Yeah?” He slid his gaze over my face before lowering it, skating his scorching stare down my neck, across my chest, over my hips, and down my bare legs. Eyes locked on my thighs, he slid his tongue across his lower lip. I bit back a moan. “And what do you have in mind?”
My nipples hardened against the silk covering my breasts and the pulsing ache between my legs intensified three-fold. Without saying a word, I sauntered toward him, swaying my hips with each step. Stopping when only a foot separated his body from mine, I lifted my hands and freed each button on the shirt I’d stolen from his closet.
One by one they came undone, baring my flesh.
Brantley sucked in a ragged breath at the sight of my heavy breasts.
Clenching his hands at his sides, he shifted his weight between his feet. “Tell me, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me I can touch you… that I can taste you.”
The only answer I gave came in the form of wrapping my fingers around his wrists and lifting his hands to my chest.
It was the only reassurance he needed.
Unclenching his hands, he palmed my breasts, and ran his thumbs over my aching nipples. “Damn, Clara,” he hissed. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of touching you.”
I dropped my head back and arched into his touch. My eyes slid closed. “Oh God,” I moaned, “please don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop,” he growled, bending at the waist, bringing his body closer to mine. Lifting my breast, his head dipped, and his mouth descended. My eyes popped open when I felt his warm breath dance across my skin. I jerked
my head down; his gaze crashed into mine. “Watch me, Firecracker,” he demanded. “Watch me taste you.”
Wetness gathered between my legs and a weight formed in my belly.
His tongue flicked my nipple and my hands flew to his wet hair. Grasping, clutching, I held him close, refusing to let go.
Brantley chuckled at my desperation and dropped to his knees.
The sight of him kneeling before me, his face level with my chest, made my legs shake.
“Brantley,” I begged, “Pretty Boy, please.”
I was not above begging for what I wanted.
No, needed.
It was surreal because at one point in my life I’d begged not to be beaten, but now, I begged to be pleasured, touched, and taken.
Obliging my plea, Brantley sucked one nipple into his mouth while his skilled fingers plucked at the other, lighting my body on fire. More wetness surged between my legs, and again, I moaned.
Loudly.
Trembling from head to toe, I rolled my hips, my body searching for his.
“Brantley,” I repeated his name like a mantra, “I need you inside me.”
My nipple popped free from his mouth.
“Not before I taste your sweet pussy, baby. Never before that.”
I whimpered at his words, but those same whimpers were cut off when Brantley stood, and tossed me over his shoulder. I yelped in surprise, but he paid me no mind. Crossing the room, he laid me down atop his bed.
I expected him to follow me down, but he didn’t.
Instead, he stood tall, placed one hand on each of my knees, and wrenched them open. Then he wrapped his fingers around my ankles and positioned my feet on the edge of the mattress. “Don’t move,” he growled. “Not until I tell you to.”
Normally, being told what to do would’ve pissed me off. But at that moment, it only turned me on.
Like, way on.
“I won’t move,” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek. “Not until you tell me to.”
Brantley smirked before grasping the tented white towel wrapped around his waist. “Good”—he jerked it off in one smooth movement—“girl.”
He dropped the towel, and I watched as it fell to the floor by his feet. Then, my gaze snapped up, landing smack dab on his huge cock.
