Made Maleen_A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale

by Jeanne St. James

  Emotion welled up in her chest as he moved inside her, over her. She met him thrust for thrust, wanting it to never end. She had been robbed of being with this man for the last fourteen years. It hurt. She loved her father and knew he’d meant well, but still… Tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to let Bray go, not even for a second to wipe them away. So, she held on to him tighter and they both grunted as he pounded her. Made her his once again. Strengthened that connection so it wasn’t at the point of breaking.

  Her orgasm didn’t roll through her like a tidal wave. It built up slowly, clenching her muscles, curling her toes. She bowed her head back, opened her mouth and released a low, satisfied sound that turned into a sigh at the end.

  Bray’s pace hiccupped. He swept one of the tears off her cheek, asking softly, “Are you okay?”

  “Perfect,” she answered, cupping his face in her hand. She honestly couldn’t be better, since she never expected this moment to happen. But it had, and she was so happy to be home. Not only in Kansas, but in her Cow-Boy’s arms.

  She pushed all past regrets out of her mind to concentrate on the man above her, his movements, his sounds. He pinned her wrists above her head and gritted his teeth as he fucked her harder, deeper. He whispered her name over and over until this time her climax overwhelmed her, shooting ripples from her core to the top of her head and down to her toes.

  She cried out his name and he took her mouth as he tensed, spilling inside of her.

  They both became quiet, the only sound in the room their rapid breathing. He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment before falling to her side. Encircling her waist, he pulled her close. With a satisfied sigh, she snuggled into his embrace.

  She missed his longer hair when she used to brush it off his forehead and out of his eyes. It was trimmed tight and neat now, a more mature look than when it was shaggy as a teen.

  Since he laid along her body on his side, she brushed her fingers down his arm and over his ribcage. She stopped when she reached a ragged scar along the bottom of his ribs and waist. The skin still looked slightly puckered and pink, but for the most part it appeared old.

  “How did that happen?”

  “In vet school,” he answered sleepily. “A heifer decided she didn’t want me touching her udder. She had mastitis.”

  “Ouch.”

  “For her or for me?”

  “Both.”

  He nodded and then rolled away from her to show his back.

  A large, oblong scar sat between his shoulder blades where it looked like there had been missing skin. The skin was shiny, as well as puckered around the edges.

  She touched it gently.

  “Ornery stallion bit me when I walked past his stall. He reached out and boom. A chunk of my skin was flapping in the breeze. Ruined one of my favorite shirts too.”

  “Asshole,” she said.

  “He sure was. Though I had the last laugh when I gelded him.”

  “Did you keep his balls as a souvenir?”

  Bray chuckled softly and rolled back towards her. “Damn, woman, that’s harsh.”

  “But you did, didn’t you?”

  “Yep. They’re sitting in a Mason jar full of formaldehyde on a shelf in my office as a reminder.”

  “A reminder of…”

  “How easily you can lose the things you prize the most.”

  His eyes held more wisdom and a quiet sadness that he never had in his youth. He had always been upbeat and ready to take on the world.

  Someone beat him down.

  Someone put his balls in a jar.

  Mal wanted to meet the person who made her happy-go-lucky Cow-Boy into a shadow of a man.

  Chapter 5

  Mal wandered around his small office. He said he’d wanted to clean it up a little before she saw it, but his busy schedule prevented that. So, she had to appreciate it as-is.

  She touched a few things as she circled the room, pausing to inspect the college degrees on his wall. A few pictures of him and a boy at different stages of growth. Maybe a nephew or something. But the most interesting one pictured him wearing a priceless, determined facial expression while shoulder-deep into a cow’s anal cavity. She snorted. “Checking for her tonsils?”

  He scoffed. “You know exactly what I’m doing there. Don’t even act like you don’t.”

  Unfortunately, she did. Growing up on a dairy farm, you got used to a lot of gross things. Especially when it came to the birthing of calves. Not to mention, the umpteen times she’d been splattered by cow pies. It was the ultimate bovine revenge for a cow to take a shit when a human walked behind them. You learned to duck and cover with the slightest raise of a tail.

  He approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and inhaling the scent of her hair. “Last night was just…”

  She laid her hands over his and rocked in his arms. “I know.”

  He turned them both around to face his desk and tilted his chin toward the shelf behind it. That’s when she noticed the big jar with an oversized set of cojones jammed inside. Mal laughed. “You were serious.”

  “Of course.”

  “Damn, I’ll make sure I never piss you off.”

  He pulled her tighter against him, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “I like your parts right where they are, thank you very much.”

  “Good to know.”

  He moved down to her ear, nudging her hair out of the way to trace his tongue around the delicate outer shell. She tilted her head slightly and sighed. His warm chest pressed against her back, his hands splayed over her lower belly, and he left her with no doubt that he was getting a chubby. She wondered if the office had a lock on the door.

  Too late, she thought, as the door shoved open. They stepped apart and both turned to face the intruder.

  The last person Mal ever expected to see entered the small office like a whirlwind.

  Fucking Kaitlyn Miller.

  The Dairy Princess.

  “Margie said you were in here.” Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Mal. But then again Mal never liked anything about the other woman.

  Bray let out a curse under his breath, but it was loud enough for Mal to hear. Bray had never liked her either.

  “I need— Oh!” She stopped abruptly in front of Bray’s desk. The bangle bracelets she wore jangled as she plugged her hands on her hips and tilted her head. Kaitlyn looked exactly as she had in high school. Perfectly styled blonde hair, perfectly painted face, perfect outfit… Perfectly nauseating.

  She had always been about getting all the boys attention and the way she dressed now, it appeared she still was. Her low-cut blouse didn’t hide a thing, her tight leggings didn’t either. They were so far up her cooch…

  Mal shook her head. She was an adult now. Good ol’ Kaitlyn shouldn’t affect her like this anymore.

  The other woman swept her gaze up and down Mal and then squinted. “Damn. You are the last person I expected to see in my husband’s office.”

  Mal’s heart squeezed and she put a hand out to the desk to catch herself. Her brain spun like a top.

  “Ex-husband,” Bray corrected, a frown marring his face. He stepped in front of Mal. She didn’t know if it was to protect her from Kaitlyn or the other way around.

  Fourteen years later and the hatred between the two still smoldered, thickening the air.

  Kaitlyn waved a well-manicured hand through the air. “Whatever.”

  “What do you want, Kait?” Bray asked, his words clipped. “Money, of course. But for what this time?”

  Kait pursed her shiny red lips and looked at Mal, who stared at her in return from around Bray’s shoulder.

  Mal’s nemesis popped a hand onto her hip. “Nate wants a new video game.”

  Nate.

  Nathaniel had been Bray’s father’s name. Mal’s gaze shot over to the photos of Bray with the boy. Her gut began to churn. The thought that Bray may have a child with this woman made her sick. Especiall
y when Mal had wanted a child so badly and instead suffered a devastating miscarriage.

  Life was so fucking unfair. She wanted to push past the two of them, walk out of this office, out of his life, and keep walking until the pain no longer existed.

  “If I want to buy Nate another video game, I will get it myself. And the last thing he needs is another video game. He needs to go outside and ride a bike, get dirty, or go play with his friends.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell him that his father doesn’t love him enough to buy him the game that all his friends have.”

  Bray snorted. “You do that. Because that’s what good mothers do. Turn their kid against their father. Especially for petty bullshit like that.”

  Kaitlyn gave a shrug like she couldn’t give a shit what Bray thought. The woman spun on her high-heeled boots and quickly left the same way she came in—in a rush.

  Mal stayed frozen in place until she heard the door slam, leaving them both in silence.

  * * *

  Mal stepped around him, eyes wide and face pale. “That’s who you married?”

  He could understand her shock. The women didn’t like each other in high school. In fact, they were the exact opposites and fierce competitors. So why, if Bray had loved Mal, had he married someone totally unlike her?

  Good question. And he reminded himself of the reason. For the millionth time. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Sorry? Bray, I just don’t get it… I just…” She released a long, noisy breath. “I need to go. I have to get out of here.”

  She spun to leave and when she grabbed the doorknob, Bray rushed up behind her, putting a hand over hers and gently pulling her away from the door.

  “Don’t go. Please,” he begged. “At least not yet.”

  She turned to face him, the hurt and disappointment clear in her eyes, her expression. “I don’t understand. But you don’t need to explain it to me, either. It’s your life. Your decisions.”

  Even so, he wanted to explain it all to her. Ever since her pop died and he heard she was coming back to town, he dreaded the moment she found out about his marriage. He hadn’t expected any other response from her. Except for her possibly cold-cocking him. He looked down at her hands, which were balled into fists, and realized he may not be out of danger yet.

  Not everything in his life had gone as planned; he had made many mistakes. But, damn it, he didn’t want Mal to be another one. He didn’t want to lose her twice. “Would you like to see where I live?”

  She paced the small room like a caged animal. “Are you trying to avoid the subject?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck, Bray. That was the last person I expected.”

  “I know,” he said softly.

  She stopped and pinned him with a glare. “What were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t.”

  She threw her hands up and sighed. “Apparently.”

  “Will you come up to my loft?”

  “Up?”

  “It’s just upstairs.”

  Kait had made fun of him for moving into the empty space above his clinic, another reason for her to call him a failure. But it worked and he didn’t mind it. And he doubted Mal would regard his living situation the same way Kait did.

  Confusion crossed her face. “You don’t live on the farm?”

  “Please. Come upstairs. I’ll explain everything. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He gave her a pleading look, hoping it would soften her up enough to give him a chance to explain.

  “Again, Bray, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.” He offered her his hand. “Please.”

  When she slid her fingers into his, a sense of relief overcame him.

  “C’mon,” he urged her, opening the office door and leading her to the back of the clinic. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the stairway that led to his residence.

  She followed behind him quietly and when they reached the top of the steps, he released her. She moved to the center of the small, but open loft and slowly turned, taking it all in. He saw his living quarters through new eyes. It wasn’t much, just a wide-open space with a king-size bed, a small open kitchen with a beat-up two-seater table nearby, a corner for his TV, an outdated couch, and his favorite recliner. The only walled off area was the simple bathroom. His décor was nil. A few throw rugs over cheap honey-colored parquet flooring and some photos of him and Nate here and there. Most of the furniture had come from his parents’ farm.

  “Not in my wildest dreams,” she murmured.

  “It’s not as if I had a choice.” He tried to keep the bitterness and disappointment from his voice. But he found it difficult.

  Her gaze landed on him. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “You have space for booze in this place?”

  “I got some beer in the fridge, some pop, and a bottle of whiskey. The essentials.”

  “How ‘bout a whole lotta whiskey with a splash of pop?”

  He needed the same. With a nod, he dug the whiskey out of one of the kitchen cabinets, then grabbed two short glasses and a can of cola from the fridge. He made himself one too. He carried the drinks over to the living room area and stopped in front of the couch. “Come sit,” he urged.

  When she came close, he offered her one of the glasses. She took a sip and coughed.

  Bray couldn’t help but laugh at her scrunched-up face as she struggled with the strength of the drink. “Too strong?” he asked, even though he knew she’d never admit it if it was.

  Her beautiful dark brown eyes watered a bit after her coughing spell. “No. I believe it’s about right for what I think I’m about to hear.”

  “You may be right.” Hell, he had no doubt she was right. He steeled himself to fill her in with everything that happened in the last fourteen years. Okay, maybe not everything. More like the Cliff Notes version.

  She settled on the couch, taking another tentative sip from the glass. Instead of joining her, he went over to the table and grabbed a wooden chair, placing it right in front of her. Close enough, so when he sat, her knees were in between his. He needed to face her, watch her expressions, while he opened up.

  He took a deep breath to begin, but she interrupted him.

  “What a difference from the house you grew up in.”

  Yes, it certainly was. “Sometimes change is good.” Though deep in his heart he wasn’t sure if he even believed it.

  “Is it?”

  “The key word was sometimes.”

  She leaned back against the couch, the elbow of the arm holding her drink resting on her other arm, crossed under her breasts. “Okay, I’m ready. Go… Or…should I ask questions?”

  Bray shook his head. “Let me start, butt in when you need to. This should be short and not-so-sweet. Though I’m not quite sure where to start…”

  “From the beginning.”

  Right. So… “My life ended when your father sent you away, Mal. I was devastated.”

  “I was too,” she whispered, her expression becoming sad. “But your life didn’t end, Bray. That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “At eighteen, it felt like the end of the world. You were the love of my life. I thought it was us for eternity. Then suddenly you were gone. Your father wouldn’t tell me where you went, even though I begged him for a long time. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions. He thought I was going to become a dairy farmer like him. And you know how hard he fought to get you away from here and out of that life. Even so, I hoped that you’d contact me since you knew where to find me. But you didn’t…”

  He didn’t mean to place blame on her, but bringing this back to the surface also reminded him of the pain of her disappearing and never hearing from her again.

  Mal swallowed hard. She probably had an uncomfortable lump in her throat like he did.

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve tried harder.
Pop put me through school and he said if I ever contacted you again, he’d wouldn’t pay for my education. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to come home to visit! And the last thing I wanted was to be a dumb hick for the rest of my life or see the disappointment in his eyes. I knew there was more out there than county fairs, cow shit, and Dairy Princesses and Princes. I promised him I’d let you go. And I did. It killed me too, Cow-Boy. I swear.”

  Bray closed his eyes, picturing that last morning when Mal’s pop chased him off. A moment he relived many times over.

  He continued to talk, not meeting her eyes as the words spilled from him. He didn’t want to see the hurt, the censure, or whatever else she might feel as he told her the rest. He was embarrassed to admit he had slept with Kaitlyn out of hurt and anger. Always in competition with Mal for his attention, Kait had relentlessly chased him down, until he became plum worn out.

  “I thought she was just looking for a notch on her bedpost. I had no idea why she was so interested in me.” He was nothing special and his family certainly wasn’t rich. Their dairy farm wasn’t near as large or successful as Mal’s father’s.

  “The couple times I’d slept with Kaitlyn, she’d found me buzzed from drinking at a bonfire or a field party. Not that it was any excuse.” He dragged a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat. “When one-hundred percent sober, I didn’t want anything to do with her. And that made her angry. Kait couldn’t understand why every man in the tri-county area didn’t want to be with her. Especially me.

  “The day she showed up at my parents’ house to announce she was pregnant was the worst day ever. My parents were angry. Her parents were furious. Nobody but Kait was happy about it.”

  Which made him suspicious. He had worn protection the couple times he slept with her, so it didn’t make sense. After Nate was born he snuck a DNA test to make sure the baby was his. And he was, no doubt about it. Either Bray had been tricked or the condom failed. But that failure ended up being one of many to come.