Made Maleen_A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale

by Jeanne St. James

  “Rumor has it your pop’s will said the farm had to be sold. That you couldn’t inherit it.”

  “Wasn’t a rumor.”

  “Okay, then.” Bray started pacing the kitchen. “It’s not that I’m not glad your back home, but if the will—”

  Mal cut him off. “I bought it.”

  “What?”

  “I bought the farm for a dollar.”

  Bray’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut. He spun on his heel to face her. “Is that even legal?”

  “Yep, according to the estate lawyer, it’s a loophole because of the way my pop worded the will.”

  He slapped his hands on his hips. “Well, damn.”

  Mal narrowed her eyes and pushed away from the counter. She propped her own hands on her hips. “Your doubt in me is disappointing.”

  Bray shook his head. “I don’t doubt you, Mal. I worry for you.”

  “Don’t.”

  He pinned his eyebrows together. “Why not?”

  “Because I no longer belong to you, Bray. You no longer belong to me. We’re adults now; we’ve moved on. I can take care of myself.”

  He blew out a loud breath and reached for her. She sidestepped his touch. “It wasn’t my choice to move on.”

  No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t her choice either. But it happened. And they weren’t teenagers any longer, clueless about the world. In fourteen years, they had each learned life was more complicated when you’re thirty-two than when you’re eighteen.

  “If you came over here tonight thinking we’re just going to pick up where we left off all those years ago—”

  He reached for her again, this time not letting her escape. He gripped both of her biceps. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything.”

  No. She couldn’t. He knew after all these years, she still felt something for him.

  * * *

  She’d be lying if she denied it. It was written all over her face. And it gave him some hope.

  Maleen had grown into a beautiful woman. Hell, she was beautiful back then, now she looked stunning. Staring deep into her dark brown eyes undid him. Just like when they were kids, one look from her and he instantly became wrapped around her little finger.

  Not that he ever wanted to fight it.

  Her hair, the deepest shade of brown, fell longer now than what he remembered. The long strands cascaded over her shoulders and down to almost mid-back. The overhead kitchen light caught the shine and the barely-there natural waves.

  He closed his eyes for a moment as he imagined the silkiness sweeping over his bare skin. He opened them again to watch every minute move she made. The blink of her eyes, the lift and fall of her chest with each shallow breath, the pebbling of her nipples under her cotton T-shirt. The look in her eyes showed him he wasn’t wrong. She felt it too.

  He loosened his grip on her arms, sliding his palms up to her shoulders, then down again, all the way to the tips of her fingers. Entwining their fingers, he lifted their clasped hands to his lips, brushing her knuckles lightly, not breaking eye contact.

  “I came over here tonight because when I saw you standing at the front of the room at the funeral home, it felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I only came to pay respects to your father even though he hated me for ruining his daughter. But I didn’t think you could still affect me like you did. Right there and then, I realized what we’ve missed. What could have been. Why I couldn’t find complete happiness in my life.” He winced at his confession.

  “We can’t live in the past, Cow-Boy.”

  He sucked in a breath. He fought the memories his old nickname conjured up. “No, you’re right, Princess, we can’t. But that doesn’t stop us from making a future.”

  He splayed himself open, outright exposing himself. But he trusted Mal. She acted nothing like his ex-wife who would have taken advantage of this vulnerability and used it against him. Crushed him underneath her boot heel.

  She averted her eyes, staring at a spot past his shoulder. “Don’t you think we’ve changed?”

  “Of course I do. We’re seasoned adults now, not starry-eyed kids. Are you at least willing to give it a shot? I’ll say it again, Mal, I’ve missed you. I’ve thought about you every day since that last morning. Didn’t you miss me?”

  A crushing weight descended on his shoulders when she hesitated.

  She inhaled a shaky breath, her hands trembling. “Bray—” Her voice caught. “You’re moving way too fast. I’ve only been home a couple nights and now you’re talking about a future. Honestly, we don’t know each other anymore.” She sighed. “I admit there’s still a physical attraction, but—”

  “Don’t say no. For now, just say maybe.”

  Mal leaned her forehead against his collarbone, and he wove his fingers into her hair. His heart ached. The truth was, he had thought about her every single day. Even the day his son was born. He regretted it wasn’t Mal in the delivery room giving life to his son.

  “We were just high school crushes.”

  “No. Don’t say that. It was more than that.” So much more. It pained him to think she marginalized their past relationship. He knew she felt the same as him back then.

  “Was it, Bray? At seventeen, eighteen, did we really know what we wanted?”

  “Yes! I wanted you, Mal. Only you.”

  “But you married someone else,” she said, her tone flat.

  His anger quickly fled. Yes, he did. Out of desperation and heartbreak.

  And the need to do the “right thing.”

  It had been one of the more notable mistakes of his life. The biggest? Letting her go. “Don’t diminish what we had.”

  Mal’s eyes shone with tears. She yanked herself out of his embrace.

  He reluctantly let her go. “Can I just hold you tonight? Will you give me that much?” He would take whatever he could get. Even if it was only one night. And only holding her tight.

  “No,” Mal said, her voice low and needy enough to make his balls tighten. “No, God help me, I want more than that tonight.”

  Chapter 4

  She couldn’t help but grin when his eyes lit up, the shadows vanishing. He whooped at the top of his lungs as he swept her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he took off at a breakneck speed toward the stairs.

  The first three steps were rushed. Then he slowed down, taking his time, keeping his balance, struggling to control his breath as he climbed.

  Mal bit back a smile. She had to hand it to him, he overflowed with ambition, but she wasn’t a one-hundred-ten-pound teenager anymore.

  She patted his shoulder as he made it up the last step and hesitated in the hallway. “You can put me down if you need to, Cow-Boy.”

  “To hell with that. You’re still my Princess and will be treated as such.”

  Determination crossed his face. He meant to carry her the rest of the way. It dawned on her he had no idea where to go. He’d never been in her bedroom before. Her pop would have skinned him alive. She lifted an arm toward the door at the end of the hall.

  A few long strides later, he kicked the door wide, carrying her over the threshold. His enthusiasm came to a screeching halt when he saw the narrow twin bed.

  “Yeah, there’s that,” she remarked.

  “We’ve never done it in a bed. Why start now?”

  His hold on her faltered and she wiggled out of his arms, sliding down his body. He needed to learn his limits. The last thing she needed was to be dropped like a sack of grain on the wide-planked wood floor.

  The room smelled a bit musty from being closed up. She hadn’t stayed in here the last two nights; she slept on the couch downstairs instead. In fact, she hadn’t even bothered to inspect the bedrooms since she arrived. She’d been too busy making her pop’s arrangements and supervising the movers.

  But there was no way they were sleeping in her parents’ king-sized bed. At least, not until she updated the room so it didn’t feel like her parents could walk in at any mo
ment. Maybe sleeping was the wrong word for it.

  Bray snagged the quilt off the bed and spread it over the woven throw rug on the floor. He waved his arm over the makeshift bed. “For m’lady.”

  Mal snorted. Her thoughts were not even close to lady-like at the moment. “Sit.”

  He complied with a wide grin, perching on the edge of the mattress. She dropped to her knees between his thighs, though not so gracefully since she had to catch her balance on his knee. With a hard tug, she pulled one cowboy boot off his foot, and then the other, tossing the well-worn, leather-tooled boots to the side.

  It had been so long since she’d seen him naked, been so long since she’d laid in his arms. Never in a million years did she think she’d be right back where she started.

  With her Cow-Boy.

  With her stomach doing a couple flips, she reached under the legs of his jeans to peel off his socks, her fingers brushing against the light hair covering his calves.

  “Stand,” she ordered.

  He pushed himself to his feet and stood over her, her head at thigh level. She turned her face up to see him staring, the light in his eyes now dark, serious. He tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear and she pressed the side of her face against his hand for a second before reaching up to unbuckle his belt and pop the fastener on his jeans. With unbearable slowness, she slid the zipper down. The dark blue cotton of his boxer briefs peeked out from the V the open denim created.

  She impatiently jerked his Levi’s down his legs and he kicked out of them. The wiry hair along his legs was dark against his tanned skin. Lean muscle sculpted his calves and thighs.

  Yes, he had certainly matured. She rose to her feet, bypassing the one spot she wanted to explore the most. Anticipation. With great care, she slid the buttons of his flannel shirt through their holes, working her way down his torso. When it hung open, she slipped her hands into his shirt and slid it over his shoulders, falling forgotten to the floor. Grabbing the hem of his undershirt, she tugged until he helped her remove it.

  Mal stepped back, her heart thudding wildly. She swept her palm across his chest, over the small patch of hair between his pecs, over his tight nipples, and she followed the narrow line of dark hair to below his navel.

  And now, for the moment she’d been waiting for… She stepped closer, straddling his thighs as she cupped his sac through the fabric. They lay heavy and warm within her fingers as she squeezed him gently. His breath puffed into the hair at the top of her head, and she noticed his muscles tighten. Without releasing his sac, she slid her free hand into his boxer briefs, capturing his hard length in her fingers, stroking the velvet steel.

  Bray groaned and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up. “You could take those off, you know.”

  She met his gaze and gave him a sultry smile. “Can I, Cow-Boy?”

  “It’s highly suggested, Princess.” He answered her smile with a wicked one of his own. A toe-curling, pussy-soaking one.

  “If I take those off, I will be the only one dressed.”

  “Well, we can’t let that happen. You know, with equality and all,” he said, his country accent thicker than normal.

  Mal added the twang she’d fought so hard to get rid of into her own words. “Yeah, that would be a damn shame.”

  “Ah, there’s my Princess,” he murmured. And before she could enjoy stripping him of his boxer briefs, he had them off and thrown across the room. Someone was getting impatient.

  Could be it wasn’t only him.

  “Sit and spread those thighs of yours.”

  A thrill ran through her when once again he immediately did what she commanded. He did it without twenty questions too. Which was a refreshing change from what she dealt with for years.

  She sank to the floor, slipping in between his legs, grabbing his arousal, and taking him into her mouth without so much as a how-ya-doin’.

  Her gaze flicked to his face and from what she could tell, he wouldn’t be filing a complaint. His eyelids heavy, his mouth slightly open, his breath sounded a little ragged as she tasted his heady, masculine flavor. She traced the pulse along the thick vein with her tongue before moving up to swirl it around the crown of his cock. She savored the saltiness of his precum, the scent of some sort of soap. Nothing fancy. Probably good ol’ Ivory.

  This was one man who wouldn’t dream of spending hundreds of dollars on expensive skin care products like creams, cologne, aftershave, body sprays, and the rest of the metrosexual nonsense the men around her in New York City were addicted to. Mal couldn’t even imagine suggesting a product like that to Bray. He’d probably laugh her out of the county.

  Not that she would. He smelled good, clean, like a good ol’ country boy. She closed her eyes as she worked her lips and tongue, plus a little teeth, along his length. He smelled like her Cow-Boy.

  She gripped the root of his cock tighter as she increased her pace and he let out a low, strangled sound. Pleasure vibrated along her spine. Her need for him at that moment, that second, soaked her, made her suck harder.

  Fingers tugged at her hair, gently at first, then the pressure increased. Mal peeked up at him and his eyes were shut tight, his breath blowing hard. He mumbled something over and over until she realized what he said.

  “Gotta stop. Oh God. Gotta stop. Mal, please…”

  She released him instantly from both her mouth and fingers, before sitting back on her heels.

  His eyelids barely separated when he reached out to run a thumb over her damp lips. “Sweet baby Jesus, I was about to explode.”

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  Bray grabbed her by the elbows and pulled her to her feet. “Not tonight. No. At least not like that. There’s something else I’d rather do.”

  Her too. But she was still dressed and that posed a problem. She didn’t know if she’d have the patience to let Bray remove her clothes. Nor did she think Bray would either. So, she ripped her clothes off as fast as she could, slapping his hands away when he tried to help. Forget that, he would just slow her down. She flung them around the room, not caring where they landed. One boot slammed into the dresser, knocking off some knick-knacks she had collected as a teen. A porcelain figurine crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

  She was ready to do the same. She wanted—needed—a cataclysmic climax of epic proportions. And she damn well hoped that her former lover could achieve it. It had been so long since she’d had any sort of orgasmic release not of her own doing.

  Her distrust in men after dealing with her dog of a husband had turned her off to dating for a while. But as she stared at Bray, she knew she could trust this man. Forever.

  She trusted him to shove her over the cliff where she teetered at the edge, ready to spread her wings and fly once again.

  Braydon stood and took her in his arms, their naked skin warm and soft where it pressed together. The brush of his hair tickled her legs and breasts.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. “You’ve only gotten better with age, Mal. Your body is perfect.”

  Okay, she didn’t quite believe the last thing he said, but it made her heart melt anyway. His erection pressed into her belly, causing her impatience to ramp up to warp speed.

  “Take me, Cow-Boy.”

  His muscles rippled against her as he pulled her to the floor onto his makeshift bed. “You got it, Princess. Your wish is my command.”

  Her giggle quickly quieted as he moved up her body, holding himself above her so he could inspect every inch. Normally she’d suffer a bout of self-consciousness, but she realized this was her Cow-Boy. He didn’t see her as a failure. He didn’t see her faults.

  She snagged the back of his head, crushing her lips against his, kissing him hard and deep. With a groan, he sank onto her body, capturing a nipple between his fingers to pull, twist, and caress. Her nipples were already painfully tight, and his actions made her arch her back and want more.

  He broke their kiss to suck her oth
er nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hard tip. Mal thrust her hips against him, once again impatient for him to be deep inside her. She needed the fulfillment, that connection.

  The sensation of his teeth grazing her nipples rippled through her, landing at her core. “Seriously, Bray, you need to take me and now!” Her nails dug into his back and scraped his skin until she reached his ass where she grabbed both cheeks and jerked his hips closer, his cock brushing against her opening.

  “I don’t want to rush.” He groaned, his head hanging as he squeezed his eyes shut.

  The overwhelming frustration tempted her to scream, “I don’t care what you want. Fuck me!” But she didn’t. She did care. Though as hard as he was, he probably wouldn’t have argued if she had let that slip.

  She bumped her soaked pussy against the head of his cock, trying to encourage him to hurry up. He slightly pulled back instead. Mal cursed silently, ready to burst into flames with frustration.

  “Umm, I need my jeans.”

  “For what?” she asked, her voice edgy.

  He could lean forward far enough without dislodging his body from hers to snag the edge of his pant leg and pull his Levi’s to him. He dug his wallet out and pulled out a condom, holding the wrinkled wrapper up.

  Oh. Yeah. Right.

  Within record time, he was encased, the head of his cock parting her swollen lips. She moaned in relief and spread her thighs wider as he pressed forward. He slowly stretched her, filled her, until he couldn’t go deeper.

  He released a long, shuddered breath, his eyes hooded. “Fuck, Mal. You feel so good...” He pulled back as slowly as he had entered. “So hot.” He flexed his hips under her fingers, driving deep. “So tight.”

  She hooked her ankles around his calves, tilting her hips to change the angle slightly. “I’ve missed you inside me, Bray. I was made for you. Only you.” She’d probably regret that confession later, but for now, she needed to say it. And she meant it. They had always fit together perfectly. Like two pieces of a puzzle.

  Her pop never understood that they had a connection that couldn’t ever be broken. Even now, years later, it was apparent. The connection may be a bit frayed, but it still existed.