If I'd Only Known (Milan Women Series Book 1) (33 page)

Barrington
was taken way back to when he was a teenager, fishing on the pier with his
grandpa. Actually, it was a conversation that took place between the two
buddies, as they'd called themselves.

“Barrington,
son, women are some very finicky creatures. Sometimes you'll be dammed if you
do and she'll cuss you if you don't. But inevitably, there almost always comes
a time when the two of you are going through something that's emotional,
mental, and spiritual, that separates the two of you physically—and you can
even be in the same house when something happens to divide you and your spouse.
Now it's always the devil at work, of course, behind the scenes, pulling the
strings. But you don't have to continue being his puppet when you recognize his
cunning, crafty work.

“Sometimes
things between you and your woman will be so bad that any more words will hurt,
since you don't really know what to say, and any more actions will diminish a
good thing, since you don't have a clue what to do.” Barrington recalled
listening intently at this point, wanting to ask questions, but too afraid it
would distract his grandpa, causing him to leave out something very important.
So instead, Barrington just listened.

“After
you've done all you can to fix things between you and your woman,” his grandpa
continued, “you just have to take a firm and faith-filled stand. They'll be
nothing left to say and nothing left to do, but somehow it'll be dropped in
your spirit to do one more thing completely out of the ordinary for you most
times.

“But
at that point, you just know that you know that sometimes a man just has to
hold his woman. Period. It's just that simple and yet it so very profound that
most men don't get it until it's entirely too late to remedy the situation. But
holding your woman is the security key to make her feel safe enough to open
herself up to you completely, pouring out her heart and emptying her soul in
your hands. It'll take holding her for no other reason than just because you
know there's nothing else left to do. Words will be too much and silence will
be too loud. The pain will be so great you both feel the other's hurt inside as
if it were your own, which by the way, it will be.

“Only
through holding her will you both get your needed release because it starts the
healing process that leads to breakthrough for both of you. Yes sir,
Barrington, at a crucial moment in time such as that, son, you just take up the
responsibility of holding your woman. And through that one action alone, you
will be communicating with your wife on a level that only she'll understand.
Don't be in a hurry, take your time, and purposely wrap your woman up in the
cocoon of your arms. Allow the embrace to say all you can't say because you don't
know how to form the words, and do all the things you'd like to, but don't have
a clue exist. Holding your woman without cause and without charge will be the
security blanket that causes her to give herself to you—naked and not ashamed,
for only the two of you and God Almighty to see.”

Finding
himself standing in their bedroom, abruptly, Barrington stopped all movement,
and looked down at his wife teetering on the edge of their bed. He climbed into
the bed, gently pulled Perri to him and held her close to his chest, allowing
her to feel how strong and steady his heart beat for her.

Though
she meant to fight it, Perri's composure broke instantly causing her to come
undone at the seams, letting out a cry filled with anguish. She cried until
there were no more tears left and Barrington just held her patiently in the
silence filling the space of their bedroom.

Finally
able to face her husband, Perri turned to look at him. Brushing the tears from
his eyes with the back of her hand, she tenderly kissed each of his eyelids
closed. Her liver quivered, her body shivered and Perri found herself kissing
him fast, hard, insistent, and powerfully. Igniting or rather, renewing a fire
within him, they began a savage quest of mating, with Perri being the
aggressor.

At
that moment Perri couldn't think; didn't want to. She couldn't feel, but she
wanted to. Perri needed her husband like never before, but she didn't know how
to ask
him
for him. She prayed she could show him, that he'd understand
she was glad he was her man. She needed to make him know she didn't mean what
she said before; she didn't want to be without him, didn't want him to leave
her. Perri wanted him to know she needed to be here with him all alone. She had
to be with him, have him make her feel like a real woman again. That could only
happen with her husband; she wanted, needed, and wouldn't be able to rest well
without Barrington lying right there next to her, holding her together at the
invisible seams.

Suddenly,
Perri knew what she had to do. She made love to her man like a savage slave
from a runaway land. It was like her body freed itself from herself and all she
could do was watch herself as she did her thing, making sure her husband got
him, but also for the first time, seeing to it that she got her—not with
Barrington's help like always, but on her own accord. Loving her husband heart,
soul, and body, that night, Perri mated with him like a savage beast in heat.
It was raw; it was intense, and it was rough.

Her
hands were all over him, gripping his chest, her fingernails scraping his
chest, grazing his nipples and flicking them with her nails while she squeezed
his Pecs. Hearing him moan from pleasure spawned her on the more. Her mouth
found his, she devoured it.

“Perri
. . . Perri, no, baby, wait . . .”

She
swallowed his words, breathing in his breath. Anchoring her hold on him, she
did things to his mouth, neck, and throat that pulled, demanded, insisted on a
groan from him.

Barrington's
heart began to beat so hard he thought it would push out of his chest. He'd
never seen this side of Perri before, didn't know it even existed. Sure, they'd
had intense lovemaking sessions between them before, but this . . . this was
different. He knew this time it was his wife who sought to brand him, claim
him, leave her mark on him, push him to the point of no return unless he took
her with him. Barrington struggled to be gentle, but Perri was busy making sure
he got his release, only he didn't want to go before her. However, no matter
what he did in an effort to help her slow her roll, it was met with resistance
and pure urgency on Perri's part.

Before
Barrington had time to recover from one of her quests, she was climbing on him
again, like she couldn't get close enough to him. He could hardly contain
himself when he felt her legs wrap around him, drawing him closer to her warm,
wet, tight core, inviting him to discover every hidden secret and uncover every
buried treasure still left dormant within her. He was trying to slow her down
so they could take their time, but he couldn't, she wasn't having it.

For
the first time in his life, Barrington knew what it was to be hunted by a woman
who only had eyes and desire for him. So instead of trying to join the struggle
in an attempt to take over, he signed on as her co-captain, letting her take
charge and call the shots as to where they'd go. He had never experienced
anything like this in his life and he wasn't going to assume he ever would
again. Deciding to treat this moment like it was the last time he’d ever
experience it, Barrington gave himself completely over to Perri and allowed his
wife to have her way with him. Whatever she wanted, he would willingly give.

Perri
covered Barrington's mouth with hungry kisses, nipped at every visible place of
skin, his throat . . . his jaw . . . his chin . . . his neck . . . his ears.

“Barry
. . .” She straddled him, flicked his Pecs, teased his nipples, leaned over and
tongued them.

“Perri
. . .”

With
her mouth and the aid of her tongue she branded Barrington's chest, then she
massaged him to no avail. Only when he begged for mercy did she stop and move
on with her urgent quest of his body, though she knew he was close to falling
over the edge right now.

“No,
Perri,” he pulled out, “not until I make sure you get you, baby.” Barrington flipped
the script on her changing it up, shifting their positions. Placing her legs on
either side of him, he cupped her bottom and gently entered her, slowing down
the pace that had quickly accelerated out of control. But he was careful to
make sure he still allowed Perri to control the tempo and he just followed her
rhythm. He thought the bottom would fall out of his stomach when she suddenly
picked up the pace again, but he went with it, matching her stroke for stroke,
thrust for thrust, pant for pant, his pleasure at her climax, victory for
victory and, they both partook of and shared together in their physical
intimacy which led to emotional, mental, and spiritual healing for each of
them.

Perri
was exhilarated inside and tears of joy sprang from her eyes.

Feeling
wetness on his bare chest, Barrington said, “Perri, what is it, baby?”

Perri
slowly raised her head, met and held his concerned gaze.

His
heart constricted in his chest. “You're crying. Baby, what's wrong?” He was
afraid he'd hurt her again, done more damage than good. Could his grandfather
have been wrong?

Looking
in his beautiful yellow-green eyes, knowing there was no way she could ever put
into words what she was now feeling, more tears spilled from her eyes. How
could she tell this man the love he gave her was so good that with each thrust
he breathed life back into her and it seeped through her veins, lodged in her
chest, and healed her heart? And, now, he held her heart in his hands . . .
healed, whole and free.

The
fact of the matter was Perri couldn't. There were no words adequate enough to
tell him how she felt. She could show him better than she could tell him and
she only knew of one way to show him. She whispered in his ear, “I want you. I
need to make love to you, baby . . . .”

Afterward,
they lay spent yet content in each other's arms, falling asleep to the beat of
the other's heart. They were all that mattered and both of them knew, even
without hearing the words, the other was loved unconditionally.

Perri
had another nightmare and woke up screaming and crying as she frantically
called out Imani's name. Barrington jumped up, startled, and woke his wife up,
and as always since she'd been having the same reoccurring hellish nightmare,
she fought him tooth and nail until she came fully awake, realizing she was
home with him and safe. Pulling Perri into his lap, Barrington held her until
she calmed down.

“Was
it the same dream?” he asked, knowing it was.

Perri
nodded. “It was so awful, Barrington.” She dissolved into tears again. When
able to speak audibly again, she said, “Imani needs me; she needs me now and I
can't get to her because I don't know where she is.” She shook her head. “I
don't know where my child is,” she said to no one in particular. She snuggled
closer to her husband's chest and cried some more.

“Baby,
tell me again what you see in this dream.”

She
shrugged. “I don't know how else to explain it to you, Barrington. All I know
is I'm in what appears to be a museum or something. I mean, it's not exactly like
a museum; it's more like a maze of some sorts. And I'm going around and around
in circles, searching for Imani, following the sound of her voice as she's
calling out, 'Mommy', only I know she can't talk. So really, none of it makes
sense. But it's driving me insane that I can't figure out the right door to
enter into and it's like I hear wicked laughter taunting and jeering at me
every time I get it wrong.” Perri involuntarily shuddered, just thinking about
it.

“We're
going to find her, Perri.”

She
nodded.

“I
promise, baby, we're going to find our daughter, because you're right. She does
need you; she always will.”

Perri
nodded, holding back the fears that always caused more tears. She winced,
feeling a stabbing pain in her breasts.

“What
is it, baby?”

Jumping
from the bed, she announced, “I'll be back,” and quickly headed for the
bathroom.

Fifteen
minutes later, Perri still hadn't returned to their bed and Barrington got
worried, going to see what the holdup was. He lightly knocked on the bathroom
door, stood back and waited. When Perri didn't answer; placing both palms on
the door frame pressing an ear to it, he called out to her. When she still
hadn't said a word, Barrington slowly opened the door and poked his head
inside. His heart froze on the spot. Perri was doubled over rocking back and
forth like she was in pain. It only took two long strides for him to reach his
wife and he knelt down in front of her.

“Perri,
what is it, baby? Are you in pain?”

She
sobbed in reply.

Barrington
lightly rubbed her back. “Is it your stomach?”

She
shook her head.

“You
got a migraine?”

She
sniffled and shook her head.

Carefully
lifting her head to meet his gaze, he went to speak but stopped when he saw how
contorted her face was from pure pain. “What's hurting you, Perri?” he asked
softly.

“My
breasts,” she said on a sob. “They're engorged and it hurts so badly. I need
Imani, Barrington. I need to feed her; s-she needs t-to eat. And I need t-to
let d-down.” She heaved and sobbed.

“Do
you want me to get you the breast pump?”

“No.”
She shook her head. “I only want my baby girl to nurse like it’s supposed to
be.”

Barrington
pulled her close to his chest but not so tight that her sensitive breasts would
pain her more. “Let me help you, Perri.”

“You
can't,” she wailed, and started coughing from the ongoing sobs.

Barrington
patted her back. “You need to calm down, baby. This is not helping you or
Imani.” He must have seen the confusion in her eyes because he said, “If you
get sick you can't take care of her when we bring her home.”

“But
it hurts so badly, Barrington. God . . . it hurts . . . so bad.”

“Hold
on, baby.” He rose, went to the sink after grabbing a hand towel, and soaked it
in hot water. Kneeling before his wife, Barrington applied the towel to her
breasts. He wanted to kick himself when she winced in pain. “Feel better?”

“No.
If anything it hurts more,” Perri managed to say without sobbing.

Barrington
thought for a moment. Only one thing came to mind, but he knew Perri would have
a hissy fit. He heard her cry out in pain again, hugging her chest harder and
it didn't even matter anymore if she got mad. He was going to do what he felt
needed to be done because he could not take seeing his wife in so much pain and
him not be able to help her.

Focused
on nothing but the stabbing pain in her breasts, Perri didn't realize
Barrington had removed her arms from her chest. But she sure did know it when
she felt his mouth on her right breast. Shocked, she shouted, “What are you
doing?”

“Helping
you,” he answered.

Perri
watched in horror as his mouth enveloped her nipple again. “That's Imani's
milk,” she snapped, and wanted to push his head away, but she couldn't.

Her
comment gave Barrington pause. He looked up at her for several seconds, then
said, “Do you want relief or not?”

“Yes.
But—”

“Then
shut up and let me help you,” he ordered, immediately going back to the task of
helping her the only way he knew how. It surprised the hell out of him that
Perri actually didn't say another word as he continued to suckle the sweet milk
from her right breast, and then from its twin left breast. He figured she was
probably contemplating how many different ways she was going to make him suffer
later. He didn't care; he just wanted her well. Satisfied his job was done,
Barrington gazed up at his wife, witnessing a sparkle in her chocolate brown
eyes. He was about to ask about it, but heard her speak.

“Don't
stop.”

Watching
her eyes glaze over with a lovemaking calling card, he asked, “You sure?”

At
the same time she nodded, she said, “I want you, Barry. Now.”

Though
he was already half aroused, he became fully hard hearing her words. Sure the
steamy look in his eyes matched the glazed one in hers, but still allowing her
ample time to change her mind, Barrington waited for Perri to make the first
move. But when she impatiently pulled his head back to her right breast, he
laved the tip, her cries fueling him more. He repeatedly suckled the hard peak
with the heat of his tongue, no intention of stopping, even when she begged him
for mercy. Instead, Barrington regarded her other breast with the same time,
attention, nurture and love as he had its plump twin. It was only when she
shouted his name around an orgasm that he stopped, watching her as she gave
herself over to her release. He loved her more than he thought, as he eased her
on the floor and made slow, sensual love to his wife until she cried out his
name, and he hers when they simultaneously reached the state of blissful
orgasm.

When
Perri finally recovered, he asked, “You okay, baby?” He chuckled.

Perri
smiled like the satisfied woman she was. “I'm happy,” she laughed. “You made me
a very happy wife, baby boy.”

“Bet
you not as much as my happy meal made me.” He gently cupped her breasts. “It
was nice babysitting my twins for a little while.” He lightly squeezed her
nipples. “And it was nice as hell nursing them again.” He kissed each one.

“Thank
you.” Perri smiled up at her husband.

“For
what, baby girl?” He was going to make her say it.

Perri
wasn't going to put up a fight if that's what he expected, “For helping me.”
Reaching out her right hand, she lightly kneaded the back of her hand against
his soft cheek. “My breasts don't hurt anymore.” She shrugged. “Thank you.”

Barrington
smiled affectionately at her. “You're very welcome, sweet Perri. Hold tight,
baby.” He rose, got another hand towel soaking it with warm water and knelt to
clean the sticky evidence of their lovemaking from Perri's inner thighs, lastly
gently wiping her still wet core. Helping her to a sitting position, he kissed
her forehead, noticing the creases and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I
wonder what Imani's eating. I don't want her on that nasty formula.”

The
comment gave them both pause and made them think.

“Nia
will make sure Imani eats. She knows what it's like to grow up hungry. I'm not
taking up for her,” he said, feeling Perri tense up. “She'll feed her well,
baby.”

“She
doesn't know what kind of formula to give her,” Perri snapped. “They're dozens
of brands, Barrington. How's she supposed to choose the right one? I don't even
know what kind she'd need since she's never had to be on it. And if that's not
bad enough, unfortunately, there are some markets and stores that keep and sell
outdated baby formula and medicines. Now that's just abuse.” Perri waved her
right hand. “Before you try to dispute it, I have seen it on the shelves for
myself. So what if Nia gets a hold of one of those? She doesn't have any kids;
she may not even know she's supposed to look at the dates. She could
unintentionally give or feed our daughter something that's very harmful. What
then, huh? She kidnapped our child. Is she gonna have enough sense to put
herself aside and get our baby medical attention before it's too late?” Perri
paused, her chocolate brown eyes held a fiery contempt. “So, no, Barrington,
I'm not gonna stock my trust in a woman who's completely certifiable, okay.”

Having
listened to all her arguments, though justifiable, at this point they were
still unwarranted and Barrington knew Perri wouldn't like what he had to say,
but told her the truth anyway. “The important thing is that she eats, baby.

She
was quiet for a long time, thinking, as her eyes filled with tears. “I know,”
she whispered, closing her eyes to ward off the pain.

They
were silent for several more minutes.

Then
Perri said, “I just keep thinking about those billboards. You know the ones
that say '1 in 5 kids are exploited online'?”

“Don't,
Perri.” He pressed an index finger to her lips. “Nia's sanity is in question,
but she's not a pervert.”

Perri
kissed his finger and that caused his own emotions to erupt.

“I
could kill her for what she did to us, baby.”

Knowing
the feeling, Perri agreed, “Me too. But it won't help us get our baby back,
will it?”

“We
are gonna get Imani back though,” he assured her.

“Chief
Morris said the first twenty four hours a child goes missing are the most
critical.” She studied his eyes for reassuring answers—answers she knew he
couldn't provide simply because there were no guarantees. “I don't feel like
she's dead, Barrington.”

“Because
she's not, baby, and, please don't say that again.” Barrington didn't believe
in striking any woman, but if Nia hurt his little girl in any way . . . .

“You're
right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Don't
you apologize, sweet Perri; just keep the faith.
We
both have to.”

She
nodded, tears welling up in her eyes and once more the ache of missing her
daughter set in. Perri thought it funny how life goes around. All the wasted
time she spent lashing out at Barrington, thinking he was going to be the one
to take her daughter away from her, when all the time, it was that crazy Nia
who dared to do something so cruel.

“This
is my fault.” Perri burst into tears.

Hugging
her, Barrington said, “No, baby. It's not. You couldn't have seen this coming;
none of us could. If anything, I should've just trusted your instincts about
Nia and this wouldn't be happing. Don't you dare place blame on yourself
because Lord knows there's enough to go around.”

Perri
pulled back, pushing at his chest. “That's just it. Don't you see? I'm reaping
what I sowed. What goes around comes around. I hurt you by keeping the truth
about Imani from you. Now I'm hurting because of the evil deed I done and
again, you're suffering because of me. I'm sorry, Barrington. I mistreated you,
and I'm so sorry.”

“Stop
it.” Barrington embraced her waist and kissed her forehead. “I said it's not
your fault, and it's not.”

Perri
pushed at his chest again.

Barrington’s
hold became firmer. “And don't even think about shutting me out because it's
not gonna work. Forget the past; sweet Perri, I already have. Baby, what we've
got to do from this point on is focus our energy on bringing our little girl
home.”

“I
know and you're right. Imani is our main concern. We have to be ready
when
she comes home.” Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.
God, please protect
Imani; let Nia be good to her
. Perri laid her head between her husband's
neck and shoulder blade, inhaling his manly scent in an effort to draw strength
from her strong G-Man.

Feeling
the same pain, with burning tears that matched hers, Barrington hugged his wife
and whispered in her ear how much he loved her over and over again until,
resting her head against his chest, she fell asleep. Having drawn much needed
strength from Perri, Barrington carried her to the bedroom, tucked her in bed,
climbed in beside her, held her to his chest and silently sent up a prayer of
thanks for God's endless grace and mercy, ending it by thanking Jesus for
Imani's safe and speedy return.