As Tears Go By (42 page)

When
the water shut off she quickly picked up the phone and dialed the front desk.
Her brain was moving in slow motion, still processing the fact that her friends
had fed her enough booze to cause a New York City black out, that she’d
accepted such amounts, and beyond all else, that she was in the same room as
Braydon. She ordered pancakes, cereal, eggs, and a large quantity of coffee.

Braydon
emerged in a puff of steam with nothing but a towel around his waist.
Swallowing tightly, she said, “I ordered food. They’re going to leave it
outside the door.”

He
didn’t make eye contact with her, which was probably for the best. Whatever her
friends thought would happen here, they were wrong.

It was
torture, seeing his beautiful body exposed and knowing he was angry with her
and all of that which she desired was off limits. He might have been irritated
with her, but nothing could come close to how furious she was with herself. It
was clear he resented being trapped in her presence.

As she
covertly watched him wander around the room, her body coiled and reacted to the
enforced nearness until she couldn’t take another minute of the deafening
silence.

Springing
off the bed, she announced she was going to take a shower. After ten long
minutes under the cold spray her body started to calm. Her headache was
subsiding and she’d feel better after getting some food in her belly.

Slipping
back into Braydon’s T-shirt—and taking a long breath of his nostalgic scent—she
roughly combed her fingers through her hair. Great. He looked like a Roman
sculpture and she looked like a wet rat. No makeup. No comb. No razor. Wonderful.

The
food had arrived and Braydon appeared to have already eaten. Wandering to the
small table in the corner, she picked at a dry pancake. For as starved as she
was minutes ago, her appetite now vanished.

Out of
the corner of her eye, she studied him. He scowled out the window as she
considered their time apart. Did he miss her as much as she’d missed him? Had
he been with other women? She desperately wanted to know exactly how he
interpreted their break.

She
cleared her throat. “There are probably robes in the closet.”

He
mutely glanced down at his exposed abdomen. The towel around his hips gaped
between his knees, but he remained concealed. “I’m fine.”

She
sighed. “Braydon, I think we’re here to talk.”

“Do you
have something new to say?” His tone was snide, something she wasn’t used to
from him. It smothered her courage and stifled all other comments.

Wandering
to the window, she found herself blinking back tears. It wasn’t supposed to be
like this. She should have never let Kevin mess with her head. He had the
ability to manipulate her more than any other person on this earth, because he
had no shame in using their son as leverage. In that moment she wanted to
strangle him, because the sad truth was, he never hesitated to take advantage
of her forgiving nature, if it meant bettering his own situation.

It was
her fault too, of course. She should have more of a backbone with him by this
point. She was simply worn out from arguing. Their relationship had become a
battleground years ago and any interaction with him left her in knots.
Sometimes bending was easier than standing her ground.

She’d
only wanted what was best for her son, but somehow, after so many years of
putting everyone else’s needs before hers, she’d forgotten the best thing for
Hunter was having a balanced mother. While Braydon introduced an additional
layer of spontaneity to her life, knocking her off kilter sometimes, he also
brought her balance. He was the up to her down, the smile to her frown, and the
endless reserve of confidence when hers was shaken.

“Are
you crying?”

She
flinched as Braydon’s voice cut through the earsplitting silence. Wiping her
nose, she lied, “No.”

He let
out a frustrated breath. “Women always cry while men have to hold it all in and
deal with life.”

He had
so much resentment, and rightly so. Though his eyes remained dry and his
emotions carefully concealed, she knew his pain was as real as hers—or she at
least assumed. But she was sick and tired of everyone dumping all the blame on
her shoulders. “Maybe women cry because men are jerks and they make us cry.”

“Are
you saying I’m a jerk?”

Her
gaze remained fastened on the glass as the view blurred. “No. I guess that’s
why I’m crying.” Wiping her eyes she whispered, “No one’s ever been nicer to me
than you have. If there’s a jerk here, it’s me.”

“And
where does nice get me, Becca?”

Her
shoulders drooped as she slowly shook her head. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You
failed.”

Not
the first time.
His
words sliced through her, cutting right to her heart. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,
well, that doesn’t fix things.”

But it
was all she had. He clearly didn’t want her anymore.

“Here.”
A box of tissues, so impersonal and cold, shoved into her view. She plucked two
from the container and mumbled a thank you.

He
noiselessly moved around the room, his steps agitated. The large hotel room
seemed to shrink into a suffocating cage. Every emotion bled from his pores and
ricocheted around the space until it crashed into her.

“I’m
angry,” he suddenly announced.

“I
know,” she quietly acknowledged.

“I
think of you with him and I want to break something.”

“It
isn’t like that.”

He made
a growl of frustration. “You don’t belong to him.”

A
nervous laugh slipped past her lips. She didn’t belong to anyone, but Hunter
belonged to her and though her intentions were misguided, they were never
anything but well intended, in hopes that she was doing right by her son.

“The
thought of him touching you makes me sick,” he went on, pacing. “He had nearly
a decade to do right by you and fucked that up. Why does someone like that
deserve more chances?”

He was
right. Everything he said was true.

“How
could you pick him over me? I never did anything but love and respect you. And
you picked him.”

“I
didn’t
pick
him. I just needed time to sort out my life.”

“I
don’t want another woman in my life who can’t appreciate that I value her.
Christ, I never valued anyone the way I valued you. You should know how I feel
by now. Damn it, you should know how
you
feel.”

“I do,”
she cried. “Braydon, I’m deciding—not just for myself—but for two people. It
should
take twice as long to make such a
monumental decision. I
love
you, but
everything was moving so fast. We went from a one-night stand with no strings
attached to an intense relationship. It kills me that you’re moving away and I
don’t want to see you go! You’ve been planning to return home since you left
the nest. The question of Hunter and I moving has only been on my radar for a
minute in comparison to the time you’ve had to decide.”

His
expression sobered, a touch of vulnerability showing in his eyes. “You don’t
want to see me go?”

“That’s
why I’ve been trying to call you, but you won’t speak to me and now you’re so
angry I don’t know what to say.”

He
stilled. “I’m afraid to ask. If you say the wrong thing I may snap. I’m holding
on by a thread here, as it is. Did you change your mind? I thought…” His words
tapered off as his gaze lowered.

She’d
never witnessed him so high strung, nor was she used to seeing such an
optimistic man appear so downtrodden. Her pulse pounded steadily, the thrumming
shaking her to the tips of her fingers.

Drawing
in a deep breath, she confessed, “I never made up my mind. That’s why I needed
time—to decide.” She swallowed. “I threw Kevin out two days ago. I, in no
uncertain terms, told him our personal relationship was never going to
reestablish itself and that I was in love with you. He was getting a little too
comfortable in my home. The holidays were one thing, but it was never my
intension to welcome him back. I only wanted him to be more present in his
son’s life. I also told him if he didn’t get the remainder of his crap out of
my house I was putting it on the curb.”

When he
wouldn’t look at her, she turned away, her chest constricting with pain. Maybe
it was too late.

Her
back heated, drawing her shoulders up as he stepped close. His ragged breathing
sent shivers up her spine. In a low growl, he asked, “Was he sleeping there?”

Slowly,
she pivoted. “No, but he seemed to think your absence was an open invitation
for him to barge in whenever he pleased. I never accepted his proposal. I only
wanted time to consider the situation.”

His
blue eyes locked with hers as his chest lifted, his breathing labored. “Did he
touch you? Kiss you?”

Her
head slowly shook. “I’d never allow that, not when I feel so strongly for you.”

“He’s
gone? You made it clear that your personal relationship is over?”

Slowly,
she nodded.

A
territorial growl ripped from his throat, as his mouth crashed down on hers,
his tongue piercing between her lips. Strong hands gripped her behind, lifting
her feet from the ground. The world spun as her back landed on the breakfast
table, his arm sweeping out at the last second to clear the surface.

Platters
crashed to the ground as his towel fell away. Hitching her thighs apart, the heat
of his cock pressed at her wet sex. There was no foreplay, no softness. He sank
into her to the hilt and gave a punishing thrust as he kissed her passionately.

“You
belong with me, Becca.
No one else.
The thought of
someone else kissing these lips, touching your body, I can’t take it.” He
thrust hard again. “This is ours. Every touch your skin craves, I’ll satisfy
it. Every caress, my hand will provide. Every ache, every need, I’ll be the one
to take care of you. You ever question that again I’ll seriously lose my mind.”

“I’m
not leaving,” she gasped as he pounded into her. “This is where I want to be,
with you. Only you, Braydon.”

Shoving
her shirt away, his hands cupped her breast, plucked and pinched at her
nipples, then glided up her arms until her hands were pinned above her head.
Staring down at her, his blue-eyed gaze devoured her features. He took her like
his life depended on this connection they shared. She’d never felt so owned, so
wanted. It was the most potent sexual experience of her life.

His
fingers caressed down her sides until they closed around her ankles, spreading
her legs wide. His attention pulled to the point their bodies connected. “Look
at that, me inside of you. We’re a perfect fit. Perfect together, but broken
when we’re apart.”

Bracing
her weight, her back bowed and saw what he was referring to. His cock slid
slowly in and out of her sex, glistening with her arousal. It was erotic and
intimate as hell and her body flooded with doubled need. As she studied him,
his attention so drawn to their intimate connection, carnal desire took over.
She became a woman untethered by fear and doubt, her desire wild and
uncontainable.

Meeting
his thrusts, she arched, her back off the table and took him deep. He released
her ankles and the soles of her feet pressed into the surface of the table.

“I need
to taste you.” He abruptly withdrew, leaving her bereft for only a split second
before his mouth closed over her clit and his fingers filled her, stabbing
deeply into her sex.

She
cried out as he relentlessly brought her to climax, stealing her breath as she
shouted out words of love and passion. Her climax came, not from her body, but
from her soul.

Wrung
out, her muscles unlocked and she collapsed to the table, but he wasn’t
finished. Strong arms scooped her up and the room twirled as she was carried to
the bed. He placed her on her tummy, parted her thighs and filled her once
more.

His
cock drove into her as his body covered her like a hot blanket. His arms
stretched over hers, extending them far above her head. Flesh to flesh, they
rocked into the bedding as his cock pulsed and heat flooded her folds. He held
her so tight, her entire being pinned to this earth by his touch, and her body
rejoiced.

There
was no escaping and no desire to. He covered her so completely it was as though
he were imprinting his soul onto hers.

“I love
you, Becca.” His lips pressed into her shoulder as her heart thundered within
her chest.

“I love
you more,” she rasped, her voice raw from spent passion. “I can’t live without
you. When you’re not a part of my day to day life I’m dead inside.”

They
stayed there for a long time and never once did she mind his weight. He wasn’t
crushing her, merely holding her, the way only he could. The pressure of his
body over hers was the greatest comfort in the world. And then she started to
cry.

At the
first sniffle, he withdrew and rolled to his side, pulling her face to his.
“Why are you crying, angel?”