by BJ Harvey
“I was always coming back to you, but that clean break? It was a rough, barely-held-together rip. There was nothing clean about it.”
“I had no way of knowing that, Faith,” he says roughly, his voice full of emotion.
“I have never stopped loving you, not for twenty-six years. Not once. I tried. I failed. But in going out on my own, outside of the Faith and Bryant fairy-tale, I discovered finding myself and fulfilling my life goals don’t mean the same if my soul mate isn’t by my side while I do it.”
“Baby…”
“I’m so damn sorry, Bry. The past six weeks with you have proven what I already knew.”
“What’s that?” he rasps.
“That I really, really fucked up,” I say, a sob escaping my throat when I lean in and bury my face in his neck. His arms come around my shoulders, and I’m shifted sideways into his lap.
“I think we both did,” he murmurs.
His hands stroke up and down my back as I burrow in closer, soaking up his warmth, relief, and just the feeling of release coursing through me. He hasn’t pushed me away, he hasn’t yelled or laid into me. He’s Bryant.
This talk had to come now. It couldn’t have happened the day we first saw each other again; it couldn’t have been when I was half a world away and finding myself—although there were so many times I picked up my phone, wanting to hear his voice while I told him about my day, my research achievements, everything I always used to tell him about first.
I lift my head, looking down between us to see I’m now sitting on top of him, his hands framing my hips.
I flatten my hands over his heart, flexing my fingers and meeting his eyes. “How can you get past that? Get past me doing that to us?”
“Because you’re Faith Baker—who was always going to be Faith Cook—and I knew I needed to be ready for you when you were ready for that to happen.”
My mouth drops open. “You planned for it?”
“Yep. I knew that when you came back, I had to make sure you knew my intentions for you hadn’t changed. If you gave me an in, I was going to pounce on that and run with it.”
“Oh my God!” I breathe. Then a snort escapes my lips. I cover my mouth to try and hide it but fail miserably. “You totally played me as soon as I walked through that bedroom door.”
His lips twitch, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Maybe… well, I hoped like hell you hadn’t turned up with a man on your arm because then I would’ve had to fight him, and that would’ve ruined my suit.”
Tears sting my eyes again, but this time, they’re relieved happy tears.
“You… you made me… I’m so confused…” I say.
“I love you. I’ll always love you. I’m always going to love you. And I made damn sure I put my ring on your finger before you had a chance to run away from me again.”
There it is.
Now I know what my husband needs to hear. That last giant wall we need to scale. It’s not about cooking or cleaning or being everything I think he needs me to be.
I cradle his jaw in my hands and lean in close so he’s all I can see. “You have me, Bry. I love you more now than I did back then, and I’ve never stopped. I’ve always been yours, I always will be yours, and I don’t ever want to be anywhere else other than by your side, in your arms, and in your bed.”
His eyes flare, and before I can even blink, his hand is tugging my head down, and his mouth is slamming into mine.
It’s hands and fingers, my hips rolling in his lap as our tongues wage war against each other. Both of us are fighting to get closer, deeper, to get everything from each other. I tear my mouth free and drop my hands to the hem of my T-shirt, ripping it up over my head. Bryant’s gaze drops to my red lace bra, and for a moment, time stands still. With a feral growl, he launches at me again, his palm cupping one of my breasts and his thumb and finger rolling across my nipple in a move that has my back arching into him as I let loose a deep, guttural moan.
In a move that would impress even the most accomplished lothario, I’m lifted and shifted, and find myself flat on my back with Bryant’s body covering me, his weight pressing me into the couch cushions, our mouths still patched together.
He hovers over me, his body moving up and down, mimicking exactly what I want to do… what we need to do. I want to feel his skin against mine. I want him laid out on our bed so I can take my time exploring every single inch of him… and there are a lot of inches, so it’ll take a lot of time. I want him buried deep inside me, his mouth on mine, breathing me in as I do the same to him, and I want it now.
My hands scramble to tug his top up his back. Taking the hint, he braces himself on one arm beside my head and pulls his T-shirt over his head, making my breath catch and my thighs clench.
I grab hold of his head and tighten my grip, desperate to have his lips on mine again, loving the feel of skin on skin, wishing I could snap my fingers and have us naked already.
That thought is interrupted by a knock on the front door. We both freeze, Bry’s eyes widening before narrowing in obvious frustration.
“Wait here. Just like that. Don’t you dare move, Faith, because I’m liking where this is going, and nothing is going to stop us from getting there.”
“Hurry up and get back already,” I say with a smirk, before lifting my head, giving him a hard and fast kiss, and then pushing him off, missing him as soon as his weight leaves me.
What I don’t miss is the opportunity to admire my toned-as-hell husband in all his shirtless wonder as he bends down to grab his discarded tee off the floor and tugs it back over his head. When he catches me ogling, he shoots me the most panty-melting grin, and I swear my vagina is ready to self-combust.
Then he gives my arm a gentle squeeze just as another, louder and longer knock echoes around the house.
“This better be a life-or-death emergency. I’ve been waiting twelve long fucking years to have you again,” he mutters before stalking out of the living room towards the front door.
I’m giggling and swooning, and definitely agreeing about it being long overdue, when a slurred “hey” sounds from the entryway.
“Is it a bad time?” I hear Cohen ask—by all accounts, a very drunk Cohen at that.
“What the fuck, dude? How did you get here?” Bry asks, sounding frustrated but also resigned. I quickly sit up and scramble to find my own top draped over the back of the couch. After a quick re-dress, and checking that everything is back where it should be, I get up and move towards the kitchen and the coffee-maker.
My decision is proven right the second Bry walks back into the room, a goofily grinning yet not-as-happy-as-you’d-expect Cohen stumbling behind him.
“New plan, babycakes. Coffees all-round and we’ll press pause on those previously anticipated activities until later, yeah?”
I purse my lips, trying not to laugh as Cohen’s head snaps from his brother to me, then back again. “Finally, I get to cock block Bryant. I could’ve sworn he’d been living like a monk.”
Bryant shoots him a filthy look. “How about I cock block you for life, you drunken idiot?”
Cohen flops down on the couch. “Yeah, that might solve all my problems. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about anything like meeting someone, falling in love, any of that shit.”
My eyes widen as I look at Bryant, who just shrugs and shakes his head. I make quick work of the coffee, and carry two mugs over to them.
“Thanks, baby,” Bryant says from his seat next to Cohen. He tips his head back, and I give him a quick kiss before straightening, feeling Cohen’s gaze on us.
“How can it be so easy for everyone else? Twelve years apart and what, six weeks later, it’s like you never left,” Cohen says, but I know he’s not expecting an answer.
There’s must be a story there; I can feel it. “Let me guess. Skye?” I ask.
Cohen’s head jerks, “No?” Cohen says, sounding almost offended. “We’re just friends. We work together, and her brothers would bury me a
live if I even touched her like that.”
“Okay… So what gives?” Bryant asks.
“I’m just sick of my life being at a standstill.” He slowly lifts his gaze. “I’m sick of watching everyone get on with their lives, and here I am, living at home, working the same job. Just…stuck.”
I close the distance and squat down beside my brother-in-law, reaching out to rest my hand on his arm. With a quick look at my husband’s furrowed brow, I know this night is not going to end the way we wanted. But family comes first, always. “Co, take it from someone who knows. You can—and will—get past this. If I can, then you can, and if you want help getting there, Bry and I will help you in any way we can. Let’s start with coffee and a couch for you to sleep it off. Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Okay?”
Cohen closes his eyes slowly and nods, covering my hand with his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to have you back, Bakes.”
I look straight at him, knowing my words are for my husband as much as they are for my drunken—probably won’t remember it in the morning—brother-in-law. Funnily enough, it also serves to bring the night full circle.
“That’s good to hear, Co because I’m not planning on going anywhere ever again.”
Bryant
Having gotten up early to drop Cohen home, I walk through our door expecting to find a still sleeping Faith lying in bed. Instead, I’m met with mussed blankets and empty sheets, and the sound of her adorably tone-deaf singing coming from the master bathroom.
Two birds, one stone—or in this case, shower. I don’t question walking in, and that’s because she’s left the door wide open whereas usually, she closes it. This is how it used to be when we were living together. Open means go, closed means no.
Bending down, I kick my shoes away and pull off my socks. I’ve shrugged my tee over my head by the time I’m through the bathroom door. The glass in the new shower we finished on Friday is steamed up, but I can still make out Faith’s curvy silhouette.
Anticipation fills me. It’s not just that this will be the first time making love to my wife, but also the first time I’ve taken her in twelve long years.
My pants and boxers are gone when I reach for the shower door, the singing now a low hum. I open it and catch the unadulterated, mouthwatering sight of Faith’s naked body. Water sluices down over her skin, clinging to her curves. Her hands are in her hair, foaming shampoo covering the strands.
“Good morning, hubby,” she whispers without turning around. Her low, seductive tone shoots straight to my already straining dick.
She turns slowly, her hooded eyes meeting mine for barely a second before she tips her head back and massages her scalp with her fingers, washing the suds free. I follow their path down her body, over her apple-shaped ass, and to her legs that I can’t wait to have wrapped around my back.
“Are you going to come in, or just stand there and watch?” she murmurs, continuing with her task and not stopping to look. I can tell she’s affected though. Her rosy pink nipples are drawn tight, her breathing labored.
That spurs me into action. I step inside the shower, closing the door behind me, steam swirling around us. I reach for her hips and slide my hands slowly up her sides. My thumbs graze the underside of her perfect breasts, making her breath catch as she turns in my arms, pressing her back and delectable ass against me.
“Your mom called…” she says
“Mm-hmm…”
“She asked if we wanted to go to church with her this morning.”
My hands still for a second before taking slow, measured glides up and down her back. Dipping my head, I bury my face in her coconut-smelling hair. “I’d rather worship at home.”
“I may have said something similar…” she muses.
“I can still have you screaming the Lord’s name in minutes,” I rasp into her ear, catching the lobe between my teeth and tugging.
Faith tilts her head to the side to give me more room as my lips dance over her skin to her soft neck. “God, that feels good,” she moans.
“See? Saying his name already and I haven’t even made you come yet.”
Without warning, Faith grabs one of my hands from her hip and dives it down between her thighs so we’re both cupping her sex.
“Feel free to get right on that,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. I cup her jaw and turn her face towards me so I can claim her mouth, driving my tongue inside to slide against hers at the same time as I flex the heel of my hand against her clit. I roll my wrist, rocking back and forth before ever-so-slowly easing one finger inside her scorching heat.
She reaches behind and between us and wraps her fingers around my cock. Her teeth dig into her plump bottom lip as she lowers her lids. Her lips press against my throat, her panting breaths caressing my sensitized skin. “I forgot about this,” she breathes.
I chuckle, unable to hold back a satisfied smirk. “It hasn’t gotten any bigger since the last time you saw it. Believe me, I’ve measured.” Her eyes snap open as she jerks her head back and narrows her gaze on mine. “I meant the perfect feel of you in my hand. But wait, you measured it?”
My slow-growing grin is my answer. It was only once. What can I say? I’m a man of my word.
When Faith runs her fingers over the head of my cock and smirks at me, her glazed eyes all-knowing, I decide it’s time to keep my promise to make her come with my hands. At least the first time, anyway. The next time I’m going to be buried deep inside her, and I’ll be doing it right along with her.
I grit my teeth and shift my hips out of reach. She huffs adorably, a sound that turns into a soft moan that makes my cock throb. I press the pad of my thumb to her clit, moving the tip in dizzying circles. She bucks her hips against me, riding my two fingers, clenching tight. Her entire body goes taut, and she gasps for breath. Her fingers grab hold of my hair, crushing her lips to mine and crying out my name—not God’s—into my mouth as she falls hard over the edge.
I ease my fingers slowly out then back in, bringing her back down to Earth as her limp body sags against mine. I brace my knees to take her weight, thankful for the fact we have endless hot water now.
When she opens her eyes and looks at me, the love I see shining there has my chest threatening to burst. The mere thought of this woman is enough to ruin the strongest of men. Having her naked, happy, and sated in my arms is better than any memory or dream I could have ever conjured up.
I kiss her again, not wanting to stop, knowing I don’t have to.
She’s mine in every way possible again.
Pulling apart, she turns in my arms, lifting her hands to frame the back of my head. She touches the tip of her nose to mine.
“You spoiled my fun,” she says with a pout, her bright eyes giving her away.
“Are you complaining?”
“About you not letting me make you come? Yes,” she huffs.
I drop my hands to her ass, pull her in tight, and rock my hard cock against her. “Oh, you’re going to make me come all right, and it’ll be when my cock is buried so deep inside you, you won’t ever imagine another moment without us being together again.”
I don’t mean for it to sound as possessive as it does, but that’s not to say it’s not true. Her eyes flash, but then she’s kissing me again. Her tongue is waging a war that I’m more than happy to let her win, especially because the way she’s attacking me now means we’ll all come out on top in the end… or I’ll come while on top.
Grabbing her hips, I lift up at the same time as she jumps. Her arms tightly clench around my back as I lean over with one arm and shut off the water. Pressing the door open with my elbow, I reach for a towel before carrying Faith out of the bathroom.
“Wait, we’ll ruin the bed.”
“Fuck the bed. Better still, fucking you while ruining anything will make any expense worth it.”
Before she can say another word, I cradle the back of her head in my hand, put a knee to the bed, and together, we bounce onto the mattre
ss.
Then we’re all over each other. There’s kissing, hands, moans, groans, teeth, tongues, and doing everything and anything possible to drive the other one crazy with lust. I straddle her legs and bend my neck to suck her nipple between my lips, pulling hard like I know she used to like. Her back arched so high she’s damn near levitating, her hands on my head holding me to her, her hips grinding against me every chance they get.
Knowing I won’t last long if she stays this hot for me, I place my outstretched hands on the bed on either side of her head and lift myself up above her.
She strains her neck and tries to pull me back in for a kiss, but I stay strong—miraculously—and grin down at her. “Babycakes, you’re hard enough on my self-control. If I keep this up, I’m going to lose it before I’ve done what I need to.”
Her brows bunch together. “But I already—”
This time I do lower myself down so she can feel everything she’s doing to me. I brush my mouth against hers and smile when she tries to keep me there. “You have, and you will come again, but I want to be in you when it happens.”
“Oh…” She breathes, her lips curving up before she tilts her head to the side and lifts a brow. “Then what are you waiting for?”
I lower my head and give her a hard, fast, and full-of-meaning kiss before pushing up off the bed and reaching in my nightstand drawer for a condom.
Standing in front of her beside the bed, I rip the foil packet open and make quick work of rolling the latex down my shaft.
Faith bends at the waist, meeting me halfway as I lower my body back down to hers. She spreads her legs so my hips can fall between them. I brace my elbow on the mattress, kissing her soft and slow as I reach between us and position my cock, dragging the tip through her wetness then pressing just the head inside. With my mouth hovering over hers, our gazes locked, I whisper, “I love you,” as I slowly push inside. She drags a hand down my back to grip my ass, tugging my body flush with hers and forcing me deep.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes back in my head, watching her expression turn to one of bliss as she takes all of me.
