Page 134 of Bred
“Stay there,” he commands gruffly. The bed dips slightly when he pushes off his knees. I hear him move around the room, but I don’t dare disobey.
I startle when I feel him brush my back. He grips my ass and spreads me open, exposing me. My breath leaves me in a rush, my face flaming.
He makes a sound of pleasure and, just like before, pushes his cum back inside me.
“Fucking perfect.”
When he’s seemingly satisfied that none of his cum will escape again, he releases me, tenderly pressing his lips to the small of my back. I sigh contently when he picks me up in his strong arms and carries me to the adjoining bathroom.
He places me down on the counter so that I’m facing him. He grabs the washcloth off the towel rack beside the sink before flicking the tap on. He tests the temperature with his fingers first before wetting the cloth and ringing it out.
“Spread your legs, baby,” he commands softly.
Past the point of embarrassment, I listen. His touch is soft when he presses the damp cloth to my pussy, gently cleaning me. He tosses the washcloth in the sink when he’s done then turns to the tub. My eyes rove over his handsome features as it fills.
He looks older, almost battle weary. His eyes hold a certain hardness that wasn’t there before, and he has a small scar cutting into his left eyebrow. It gives him a roguish look, almost like a pirate, and his stern mouth has the beginning lines of worry.
Sadness grips me. The things he must have gone through.
I know what it’s like to go through something all alone.
The difference is, I didn’t choose to go through my miscarriage alone.
Lucas might have thought he was protecting me by letting me go, but he had no idea that I was pregnant. If he did, I know he wouldn’t have had his brother cut me loose. Would I have had the baby if we were still together? I think about Lucas in prison, how our life would have been.
He was gone for five years, so whatever he did, it was enough to get him a five-year sentence—maybe more if he’s out on parole. He would have missed the birth of our baby. The first smiles, first steps, first words. Hell, he wouldn’t have gotten out until the kid was in kindergarten. The only relationship he would have had with our child would be around visitations.
In a way, if we stayed together, we would have dealt with things alone, anyway. He wouldn’t have been able to be there with me for the birth, and he wouldn’t have been there with me for the death. We’d both suffer. Together, but all alone at the same time.
All the residual anger and upset leave me. None of that matters anymore. He’s here with me again. Maybe we can have a second chance if we want one.
Lucas turns off the tub and turns back to me. I’m silent when he gathers me in his arms again and lowers us both in the tub, his front against my back. I sigh in contentment, the warm water soothing my tender flesh and sore muscles.
“I don’t forgive you,” I say quietly, breaking the silence. He pauses, the washcloth he was using stilling on my shoulders. I glance back at him. “But I understand why you did what you did.”
He stares down at me for a moment, then bends his head to kiss me gently. “That’s all I can ask for.”
I close my eyes and relax against him. We stay in companionable silence, just enjoying being in each other’s arms again.
We get out only when the water grows cold. Lucas dries me off first before himself. Picking me back up, he carries me back to his room and deposits me on the bed. Since we never bothered to turn on the lights in his room, he turns back to the bathroom and flicks off the light.
I scoot over when he climbs into bed with me. It’s been so long, and I’ve spent so many nights missing the warmth of his embrace.
He pulls me back into his arms immediately, entwining his leg with mine.
We stay like that, just enjoying the feeling of our bodies touching. Between the bath and this, I feel so relaxed I could easily fall asleep if it wasn’t for the weight of what I’m keeping from him. I want to tell Lucas about my miscarriage, but at the same time I don’t.
It happened five years ago, but the loss I carry in my heart is timeless. It’s something I know I’ll never get over. It’s a heartbreak I don’t wish on anyone, and it’s why I’m struggling over my decision on telling Lucas or not.
They say ignorance is bliss, but would he be hurt if I didn’t tell him? Even if I did it to protect him from feeling the pain I’ve had to live with every day?
“Just tell me,” Lucas says suddenly, startling me.
Did I say that out loud?
“How did you—?”
“I know I haven’t been around for you, but I still know you, Brin. I can still tell when there’s something heavy weighing on your mind.”
