Love Me Always (The Invisibles)

by Michelle Lynn

  Finally, my thighs are on fire from the workout of reaching our destination. I let her go and she slides down the length of my body. My hands constrict on her hips and I swivel her around so her back is pressed along my chest. Rose petals strewn across the bed read B loves S.

  “Ohh.” Her hand lies across her chest and she falls into my waiting arms behind her.

  I pull back her shirt and my lips cascade short kisses to the nape of her neck. Her head falls to my shoulder, granting me with more skin of hers to cherish. My hands reach around her and my fingers start manipulating the buttons on her blouse.

  “Thank you, Brady,” she says and I hear the quiver in her voice. I’d do about anything for this woman. Anything.

  I murmur something unintelligible because my only true thoughts are her naked and me buried deep inside of her.

  I flip her back around to face me and I slide the blouse off her shoulders, leaving her standing in front of me with just a sheer black bra. Her nipples peak through the fabric, begging for my thumbs to brush against the pebbles. The perfect pink circles don’t help my willpower to slow my pace. I walk us back to the bed and when the back of her thighs hit it, she falls down into the big plush mattress we bought last month. “Brady,” she sighs and nothing is better than hearing your girl whimper your name.

  I stand at the edge of the bed, between her splayed open legs, peering down at the owner of my heart. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip, probably wondering why my hands aren’t on her yet. I can see her self-confidence waning the longer I wait to devour her. I unbutton my jeans and a slow smile creeps up her lips. They fall from my hips and pool at my ankles, leaving me in my black boxer briefs. Her chest rises and falls and she scoots up on the bed further to leave me room to join her.

  “Undress baby,” I instruct her and her fingers quickly unbutton her own slacks and she toes out of her shoes.

  I’m fairly sure my dick is on high alert watching her wiggle out of them, benefiting me another scene of sheerness—her panties. Jesus, what did I ever do to deserve her?

  “Come on, I want you so bad,” she begs and it’s vindictive I know, but damn, her begging for my cock turns me on.

  “In time.” I portray a cool act, as though her wet panties and hard nipples don’t make me want to nail her into oblivion.

  I grab her ankles and tug her down so her ass hangs off the edge of the bed. She gasps and my fingers hook on either side of her panties, sliding them down her smooth legs. The small piece of fabric joins her shoes in a pile on the floor and her hands reach for my head. She knows what I’m about to do, which only brings despair to me. Our sex life can’t be this ordinary. We aren’t even married yet. She’s inching closer to my mouth, and God her consuming smell makes my dick twitch, begging me to let him play. But I can’t. Our life can’t be conventional; I’ll never let it be.

  “Sit up,” I demand and the authority in my voice rattles me. But Sadie slyly smiles and obeys, her feet hanging off the bed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I stare down at the bed with rose petals. I did it a year ago for our anniversary. What the hell is wrong with me? I pick her up and hold her in my arms as my other hand lifts and throws the comforter to the floor. An array of colored rose petals float in the air, free falling to the floor. My eyes search and my head flows through anything that could be hotter than fucking missionary on our bed. I should have screwed her in the kitchen, but it’s too late for that now. I move us to the chaise lounge chair next to the bookcase of Sadie’s romance books. Filled with a whole hell of a lot better sex than she’s experiencing I’m sure. She dragged me to that one movie with the rich dude, but I don’t have a red room, so I have to be more imaginative.

  I drag us into the shower, having no other choice at this moment. She pulls away from me, examining me. She’s confused for sure. Hell, I am too. Two minutes ago, I was thinking of one thing and now here I am with a half-naked fiancée in my arms and I’m too worried to seal the deal.

  “You okay?” Her hand brushes through my hair.

  “Yeah.” I refuse to end our moment. Her pleading eyes want me to dig deep into my psyche and have a little chat about why I can’t fuck my fiancée. Screw that.

  She remains quiet and my hands dip under the line of her panties and mold to her bare flesh. I prop her on the sink and she leans back, her hands trying to secure herself by holding the edge of the sink.

  I push my boxers down and my cock springs to life as if he’s happy he’ll finally get the action he thought he deserved earlier.

  Sadie licks her lips and I bend down to capture the mouth I love. Our tongues slide together and I hold her head steady in my hands so it doesn’t crash into the mirror as my lips demand more of her. Again, she’s inching closer to me and I thank the heavens she’s on the damn pill because there’s no time for a condom. My mouth latches on her nipple and I guide myself into her, waiting for the sigh that’s sure to release from her lips. It tells me she needs me.

  Damn, get out of my head. Let me enjoy this. Isn’t that the point of sex?

  “More Brady, deeper,” she begs and I reach around to hold her ass, pulling her into me. I thrust harder and her legs lock around my waist. My hands pin hers to the mirror as I rock into her over and over again.

  Her back hits the water faucet and water sprays everywhere. She laughs while I chastise myself for having her in this position.

  I release her hand and reach down to turn the water off. This move gives her the ability to wrap her arms around my neck, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe. Focus. I instruct myself. Not having enough leverage, I turn us around and push her against the wall. I hammer into her over and over again until she’s screaming and collapsing in my arms from exhaustion. I allow her to rest her head on my shoulder, as my mind swims with questions to why I couldn’t finish. My dick still hard inside of her, limps to a slow death, knowing it’s not going to see it’s happy place today.

  Then Sadie picks up her head and explores my eyes. Something triggers and she must realize I never did come.

  Her legs drop and I let her go, shame wrapping around me like a blanket. Immediately, she goes to her knees. Her green eyes feast on mine and there goes my dick again, hard as a fucking rock. She licks it like a damn ice cream cone before covering the whole tip with her mouth.

  My fingers thread through her blonde strands as I watch my cock disappear through her wet and warm lips. She works my cock with no mercy.

  Ten minutes later, we’re both sunken on the bathroom floor. I’m leaning against the cabinet with her lying in my arms.

  “That was a nice surprise,” she says and my hand lazily grazes along her smooth skin. “We haven’t done it like that in a long time.”

  Which is code for our sex life is boring as fuck.

  I nod and kiss the top of her head.

  “I love you.” My voice breaks because we’re a week from our wedding and I just now realized we’re turning into a boring couple and a boring couple only means one thing. One will cheat and leave. Just like my mom.

  She takes my hands that are already tight around her and slithers back so our bodies are flush together. “I love you more.”

  Maybe for now, but what about later?

  Sadie

  I HEAR BRADY playing downstairs as I walk past the basement door on my way to the kitchen. He seemed off last night, but I know we’re still trying to get back to where we were before my bridezilla phase. What if I took him too far and he’s struggling to come back to me fully? I glance at the clock on the wall while reaching for my waiting cup of coffee, courtesy of Brady. He’s a keeper for sure. For some reason, I’ve been thinking about when we first started dated. The first time he brought me back to this house and made me lunch. How foreign and odd it felt to be taken care of by a guy and not used in bed. After I moved in, I think I fell harder for him. Our everyday casual relationship sheltered me into a life filled with unconditional love. Something nonexistent after Theo died.

  The
o.

  My eyes search for the clock again. I have to leave so I’m not late for my counseling appointment. Brady’s working a song out from hearing him play and stop. Not wanting to disrupt him, I jot a quick note.

  I smile, kissing my lipstick-covered lips to the paper and place it down next to his keys.

  The chilled air brittles my bones as soon as I step out the back door and I hurriedly put my hat and gloves on. What a difference from two days ago? Why should I expect anything else in Northeast Ohio? I climb in my Honda and blast the heat to warm my body somewhat. I doubt the car will warm up before I make it to the appointment five minutes away.

  I’m backing up when Paige pulls out across the street. We wave to one another, but she must be late too because she doesn’t stop to talk. I never would have thought a girl could change Rob, but Paige managed just that. He’s done a one eighty from the cocky bastard I met years ago in my dorm room. Now I don’t mind being in the same room as him. Talk about how kids can change someone, Matty has had a bigger impact on Rob than anyone.

  Brady and I have talked about kids a few times, but neither one of us wants them right away. We’re twenty-five and need a few more years before making that step. It’s hard not to change my mind with all of our friends except Dex and Chrissy having at least one child.

  I arrive outside the building, staring at the plaque again, Dr. Bradley Hinkle. You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m supposed to be the one to fix people, not the other way around. Then again, the psychologist that got me through Theo’s death originally is who made me want to practice counseling.

  The smell of pumpkin spice lingers in the quiet waiting room. I sign in with the receptionist and wait by the door for the doctor. My foot taps on the ground and I pretend to distract myself with my phone. Although my mind is reeling about what will happen in that room. How deep will Dr. Hinkle dig to retrieve the guilt that still has the capacity to ruin my relationships?

  I swore I was over the incident. I was even waiting patiently for Brady to pop the question. After that ring encircled my finger, the grief crashed down on me. I delayed the wedding by wanting everything to be perfect. As though wrapping our wedding in a little perfect box with a ribbon would hide who was missing.

  “Sadie?” Dr. Hinkle steps out of his office and I stand to walk into confessions of the evil twin. At least that’s what I like to think of it as.

  “Hi, Dr. Hinkle,” I say as I step forward through his doorway.

  The smell of pumpkin spice is instantly replaced with his heavy cologne. Old Spice or something the older men use. I wouldn’t really know since my father doesn’t talk to me anymore. There’s another problem, Dr. Hinkle.

  “Take a seat, Sadie.” He sits in his own chair and I lower on the chair across from him.

  My legs stuck together and my back is straight as a pin. Will I get used to not being on the other side with my notepad?

  “How have you been since a few days ago?” he asks, his pen poised ready to jot down my fears and worries.

  “Better.” I cross my legs and my finger taps on the brown leather armrest.

  “Let’s talk about your wedding day.”

  “Okay.” I don’t add much more, because I’m not exactly sure what he wants to talk about. The guilt I bear from my dead brother? The fact my fiancé was ready to dump me only weeks ago? Bring it on, Dr. Hinkle, because I’m not starting this conversation.

  “When did you meet Brady?”

  The image of the abandoned house turned bar flickers to my mind. I can almost feel his warm hand on my arm, stopping my impending fall. His caramel eyes in a sea of legs around us.

  “A month after I started at Western.” He nods. I guess it’s an acceptable answer.

  “When did you move in together?”

  “Three months later.” His eyes widen. “Yeah, it was fast.” I don’t mention that my dad cut me off and I barely had money for tuition, let alone room and board. In a way, Brady saved me.

  “That’s okay. I go by the philosophy of what feels right must be.” He scribbles some notes and I envision, ‘hiding from her problems’ is there.

  “Would you have that same opinion if it was your daughter?”

  He grins and then concentrates on his paper. “Let’s keep this focused on you.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble.

  “Why did you just apologize?”

  Oh, don’t over analyze me. It’s been done, I swear.

  “Because you don’t want to talk about your family.” I begin picking at the little white stuffing making an appearance through the hole of the armrest.

  “Do you apologize a lot?”

  I roll my eyes, exasperated by this conversation. We continue to talk about if I apologize too much and do I often seek out approval from people. Another hour not at all discussing how I wish I could go back three years ago and save my brother. But when Dr. Hinkle announces our time is up, I can’t help but inhale a deep breath of relief. I stand and pick up my purse and give him a polite smile before sneaking out the side door right to my car.

  Fuck therapy. Why do I even want to do it as a career?

  FOUR O’CLOCK ON the dot, I pull in the driveway, surprised to see Brady’s car. He had a meeting with the engineering group about one of the dormitories they’re building. He wasn’t supposed to be home until around six. My plan had been to make dinner for everyone. I grab the grocery bags from the backseat of my car and wobble to the back door. One good thing about him being home is he can help me. Brady’s better in the kitchen than me.

  With grocery bags lined up my arm, I maneuver myself to get a grip of the doorknob. It twists in my hand and I step into the dark room. Loud music plays from the family room and I wonder what he’s doing there. I drop the bags on the kitchen table and then two hands spin me around and back me up to the fridge. The magnets slide down as my hand tries to grab something. Brady’s lips crash to mine, his tongue piercing through my lips. He’s demanding and untamed and I love every minute of it.

  My fingers thread through his dark hairs and his hands pull my blouse out of my pants, skimming my ribcage. My skin ignites from his calloused hands reaching around to undo my bra.

  “Hello,” I say.

  Brady laughs, his lips murmuring against my mouth. “Hello.”

  Without another word, he spins me around, brushes all the groceries off the table with one swipe and lays me down on top of it. He rips my blouse open, and the buttons ping across the floor.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m on my hands and knees picking up spaghetti sauce and shards of glass. In our haste of ecstasy, a few groceries crashed to the floor. Not that I’m complaining. Brady hasn’t taken me like that in months. One lost blouse and a few jars of sauce is nothing to complain over. But now I’m down to a little over an hour before Grandma Ida and my mom show up.

  “I’ll run back out and grab some more jars.” Brady returns from the bathroom and bends down to help me.

  “Nah. Let’s just order pizza. You know how Grandma loves Gepetto’s.” I swear she ate a whole medium their last visit. For a small-framed woman, she can pile the food in.

  “You think a medium will satisfy her this time?” He leans over the mess and kisses my forehead before getting up and moving to the sink.

  I follow him to the garbage and he swiftly goes over to grab the mop. Sometimes I smile just knowing how in sync we are. Over the years, we’ve mastered this life together and there’s nothing just one of us does. Both of us are always willing to help the other whether it be paying the bills, or making breakfast. Well, except when Brady cooks me breakfast in bed. But I try to pay him back in some small way.

  “I’m going to run up and get dressed.” I look down at my open blouse. His eyes burn with desire and I laugh. “Maybe if my grandma and mom weren’t going to be here in,” I check the clock, “An hour.”

  He pulls me into him, his arms squeezing around my waist. “Have I told you how much I can’t wait for our honeymoon?”

 
“Yes, numerous times.”

  Brady and I haven’t been away in a long time. Every time we planned something it seemed as though something came up with either our friends or parents.

  “I don’t plan on seeing you in anything a majority of the time.”

  He draws back and his strong hands hold my neck firm. His thumbs brush along my cheeks.

  “I know. Same goes for you.” He bites his lower lip but a sly smile sneaks out. I haven’t seen this much want pouring from his eyes in a long time, especially after we just had sex on the kitchen table. Those eyes have a direct line to my core.

  “You never even have to ask.” He bends down and gently kisses my lips.

  I scurry up the stairs because let’s be honest, my mom and grandma are usually more than punctual.

  “Who knows maybe we’ll make some babies,” Brady calls out and my footsteps stop on the top of the second floor. We’ve talked about kids and both agreed now isn’t the time, so why is he bringing it up? I stare down the hall at the four empty bedrooms and wonder what this house will be like filled with children. Our children. Girls and boys scrambling down the stairs, yelling and screaming. The one thing I know for sure is that Brady wants a lot of them. Since Maura was older than him, he’s constantly saying he wants to fill the rooms. Which I’ve yet to remind him might not be that hard since I’m a twin. There goes that ping of pain in my heart. All the thoughts of my future fade and I shake my head.

  I try to extinguish the sadness quickly consuming me and change into jeans and a sweater, but it’s looming like the darkest cloud during a storm, right over my damn head.

  Brady comes in while I’m pulling my hair back in a ponytail and I plaster on a smile to my face. I’ve put him through enough.