I stare at the basket and dread fills my being. It wasn’t like I didn’t know he knew where I’d be but receiving the basket solidified that fact. Christine gushed when she answered the door earlier and brought it to me. Of course she’d assumed that it was from Brax. I knew better. Braxton didn’t even want to speak to me over the phone while in London, much less send me a gift. Besides, this gift screamed Jimmy from the second I laid eyes on it. A large, over the top basket, had been filled with Georgia peaches, jams, jellies, a cookbook, and even some peach flavored candies.
After Christine ran off to start some laundry, I opened the card.
Remember our conversation, little peach.
There was no signature but I didn’t need one to know it was him. It was a threat. A simple reminder that he would, in fact, be coming back for me eventually. I fan myself with the card and sigh. It wouldn’t be difficult to just leave. Christine stays busy with the housework while Cartier orders shit online all day in the salon. They don’t watch my every move and I’ve been given the code to go outside.
Where will I go?
How will I get there?
I frown because I haven’t a penny to my name, no IDs, and no transportation. While Brax has been gone this week, I’ve been browsing on the computer looking for a place I could run off to and start a new life. Not the UK—I’m so over that life. And certainly not out east. Jimmy would find me in a heartbeat. I considered Nebraska or Kansas or some other semi-obscure state to get lost in. And until Jimmy’s gift arrived, I’d only been entertaining the idea of leaving.
Now, it’s becoming inevitable.
I fold the card in half and set it on the table. The scent of the peaches—Jimmy’s favorite—seems to saturate the air around me. My stomach churns and spasms. And yet . . . I’m still here. Staring at it.
My other option would be to ask Brax to release me, even if that means going unpaid. But something tells me he won’t let go of his precious toy that easily. I can only sit in his massive house, watching time tick by quickly, as I wait for the expiration date on my stay to come about. When it does, I’ll take the money and run. Hopefully, I’ll miss Jimmy before he tries to swoop in and collect me.
“You know,” Christine chirps as she reenters the room, “with Mr. Kennedy on his way back, I could take a few of those peaches he sent and make a cobbler.”
He’s coming back? Today?
The thought of eating cobbler with peaches that Jimmy, not Brax, sent sends me over the edge. I stand from the table and rush past her. “I’m allergic to peaches,” I lie breathily. “I’m going to be sick.”
I make it into the guest bathroom and head straight for the sink. Quickly, I splash cold water on my face and attempt to keep from throwing up. Lifting my eyes, I focus on the woman I am. The bruises Jimmy gave me last week are long gone. My eyes aren’t dull but instead a fierce, calculating jade color. White skin pales with each passing second as I stare at myself. I’ve thrown my hair into a messy bun that matches my sloppy look of yoga pants and a sweatshirt.
“Oh, Jessica, I’m so sorry,” Christine says from behind me. “I had no idea you were allergic. I’ll dispose of them and we’ll tell Mr. Kennedy I’ve put them away. I’m going to make some chicken noodle soup too since you’re a little green around the gills.”
I nod and absently wave my thanks to her. After she leaves, I remember Glenna’s pills from before and open the cabinet. My hands are shaky so when I retrieve them from between the two towels, they rattle.
These could certainly help wash the lingering thoughts of Jimmy away. But it would also cloud my mind and eventually they’d run out. I need to be clearheaded. If I have any hope of surviving this mess.
Carefully, I push them back where they belong and return to the mirror. The color has returned to my cheeks and I attempt a smile. It feels fake and unnatural on my lips. There was a time I could coast along and pretend—Jimmy taught me how to do that. But now? Now I don’t feel like pretending.
I don’t want to be Jimmy’s punching bag.
I don’t want to be Corgy’s fuck slave.
I don’t want to be Brax’s toy.
I just want to be Jessica. Grace’s mom. A woman with a chance to start over.
Tears spill down my cheeks at the mere thought of her. My heart clenches in my chest and I curse God for the millionth time for taking her from me.
“You know we’re not poor, Peach. I could have hired someone to paint the nursery. Besides, didn’t the doctor tell you not to be climbing any ladders?” Jimmy’s deceptively sweet voice questions from the doorway from behind me. His words, though warm, send icy fear trickling down my spine.
His chilling presence washes over me and I scramble off the ladder before he decides to help me. I never want his help. His help usually means a slap to the face or push into a wall. So on a ladder, his help could be dangerous. I’ve been walking on eggshells doing whatever I can to please him so he’ll lay off me. I’d just planned to leave him when I found out I was pregnant with his child. Now, I have to be more careful knowing there are two of us to protect instead of one and that means taking steps to save so I can slip away from him with our child.
“Oh, um, yeah. I just wanted to do it myself. You know it gets boring around here while you’re gone,” I tell him sweetly. And even though I love the color and the décor I’ve outfitted her room with, I know it’s only something to pass my time. When I imagine holding my angel, I don’t see it in this hell hole. I see it someplace safe—someplace far away from Jimmy and his sick head.
I drop the lilac-colored paint covered brush I’d been using to cut in around the ceiling into the pan and smile at him.
Today he seems to be in a fairly good mood. I hope he stays that way.
“You’ve really let yourself go with this pregnancy,” he says with furrowed brows as I tentatively make my way to him. “I hope you lose some of that fat from your ass once you push out our kid.”
His verbal remarks don’t sting. I’ve grown used to them. It’s the physical ones I hate.
“I can renew my gym membership,” I say and slide my hands up his chest. “They have a day care there.”
He stiffens when I kiss his lips.
“So all those assholes can eye fuck you while your ass jiggles on the treadmill? Fuck that, Peach. I’ll buy you whatever you need for the house.”
I swallow and nod. “Sure, babe. I’ll do whatever you want.”
His eyes darken and he flashes me a wicked grin—a grin that once upon a time I had fallen in love with. At that time, though, I never realized the evil that danced behind that smile.
“Well, I want you to drop to your knees and suck my cock. Daddy’s had a long day.”
I refrain from cringing and instead drop before him. Once I have his length in my mouth, I rub my belly.
Only a few more months of playing nice, baby girl, and then we’re out of here.
A long overdue and genuine smile tugs at my lips as I pleasure my bastard husband. Only a few more months . . .
The purple room upstairs is a constant reminder of her and it nauseates me. I’m half tempted to ask Brax if I can repaint it. I glance back at my reflection and it makes me cry harder. The woman looking back at me is scared and vulnerable. Pills from the cabinet beckon to me and I’m reminded of a similar situation when Trevor was in here with me.
Why is it that only the darkest and most evil men cross my path?
I splash more water on my face when my stomach flops again. My brain is a mess today and I can hardly cope with it, hence the upset stomach. With shaking hands I rub at my eyes. I’m tired of this life. For a long time, I’ve played a game for someone else. It’s high time I start playing for me.
Some things need to change right away. Using drugs as a crutch is one of them. With haste, I yank open the cabinet and retrieve the pills. I twist open the bottle and dump them into the toilet. As much as it scares me to handle life without them, it’s necessary. I toss the empty container in the trash and flush the toilet, watching with a smile as a part of my past is swept away. This time, when I look in the mirror, I can be proud of the woman staring back at me. I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to revel in the sensation.
Warm hands encircle my waist and for a moment, I think it’s Cartier. But his smell envelops me and I shiver. My heart speeds up to the much quicker pace it’s used to whenever he’s around.
Brax.
“Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are? I’d been waiting to see what you’d do with those pills. You passed my test.” I can sense the pride in his voice.
I reopen my eyes and am shocked to see the same, sad, exhausted look on his own face. For a moment, it makes me forget my problems and wonder about his.
“You’re back.” My voice is hoarse and quiet.
He buries his face into my hair and inhales. “I am. Jesus, I missed your smell.”
His words cause my belly to flutter with butterflies instead of rumble with sickness. Sometimes, this complicated man is just what my soul craves. I shudder and squash that thought immediately.
“How was London?”
He groans and pulls away. “Terrible. How was it here?”
“Terrible,” I mimic.
Turning in his arms, I notice he’s wearing one of his signature suits but the arrogance that usually paints his pretty face is lacking. We both stare at each other and inspect what we’ve missed. And we both have. Despite my attempts to ignore thoughts about how Brax makes me feel alive and happy, I know I can’t. Because he does make me happy—even when he’s being difficult and confusing. He’s only been here a few minutes and I’m already drunk on his essence.
“You look stressed,” I sigh as I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. His lids droop for a moment and it pleases me to see how much he enjoys having his hair touched. When I pull my fingers away and drag them down his recently shaven cheek, his eyes pop back open.
“You look stressed too. Miss me, Bunny?”
Hearing the dumb name on his lips warms me and a wave of dizziness washes over me. I nod and lift on my toes to kiss him. “Nobody spanks me while you’re gone,” I tease with a smile. “Not even Cartier when I beg him too.”
He groans and steals my mouth with his, kissing me deeply. Possessively. All consumingly. I fall into the abyss that is him and whimper out a moan into his mouth. His erection presses into me and suddenly all of my worries disappear.
I want him.
All of him.
Now.
“I want you so bad, Jess, but I am so fucking tired from traveling. Let me grab a shower and meet me in the Theater Room,” he instructs with a peck against my forehead.
The air is lighter. I’m no longer being suffocated by peaches. I’m captivated by the dark moon that orbits my world.
He tugs away and leaves me alone. The air becomes colder in the absence of his presence. Suppressing a shiver, I exit the bathroom and make a face at the lingering peach scent which seems to have poisoned the air.
On the way upstairs, I lose myself to my thoughts. Moments before, I was planning my escape and now, I just want to spend time with Brax. I want his warm, comforting presence holding me while I ignore my plan of action ahead of me. Even if it can only be for a short while.
And if he switches the flip and gets in one of those moods, well, he can fuck away my worries then. Because I might always be a whore, but I’m his whore who loves the perverted things that only he does to me.
I’m curled up in one of the comfy theater seats when I sense his presence. It’s as thick as the air. Always. Brax doesn’t do anything small or insignificant. He charges everything with all that is him and it’s electrifying.
“I heard you were a good little toy.” His voice blankets me in rich, velvety warmth.
“I was your bored little toy. It’s not the same here without you,” I tell him with honesty.
Glancing over, my mouth becomes dry to see him leaned against the doorframe wearing nothing but a pair of navy fleece pajama pants hung low on his hips. My eyes travel over his gorgeous, bare, sculpted chest of a god all the way down to a particular set of V-shaped muscles which point straight into the goodness that I’m becoming extremely familiar with.
He smirks but wisely doesn’t interrupt my blatant staring. I’m attracted to the man but I’ve never wanted to lick every inch of his flesh more than I do right now.
“Those pants would look better on the floor, you know,” I flirt.
His chuckle is boyish and loud. It causes a shiver of delight to quiver through me. My mood has skyrocketed while in his presence. Briefly, I worry about when the day comes where I won’t ever see him again. The thought makes my already woozy stomach revolt.
Ignoring the future, I watch as he saunters into the room to the DVD player. He mashes a few buttons while I lust over his back and firm ass.
When he finishes, he grabs a quilt from the closet and sits in the seat beside me while the music starts up. He fishes around in a pocket on the side for a remote and soon the room darkens.
“Fancy,” I say with a laugh. “They don’t have stuff like this in the ghetto.”
He grumbles from beside me. “You’re never going back to the ghetto.”
I frown because if I don’t play my cards right, it’s exactly where I’ll end up. “Are we really going to watch a Disney princess movie? I’d rather just suck your cock.”
“Jesus, Bunny. Why do you always have to say shit to mess with my head?” he complains. “For once just let me spoil you like I want.”
He lifts the arm rest between us and tugs me over into his lap so he can cover us with the blanket.
“You’re really not going to fuck me, Brax? I thought you were kidding about watching a movie,” I taunt, running my fingertips up his bare chest. “I’ve missed you.”
His fingers catch my jaw in an almost brutal grasp and he turns my face to his. Dark, sinister eyes flicker from the movie previews on the big screen as he glares at me. “Did you forget what I like? All it took was a week to forget our special relationship?”
He wets his lips in an angry way that has me wanting to rip his pants off and do dirty things to him.
“I’m sorry, sir. Seems like you might have to give me a refresher course,” I say feigning innocence.
A quick exhalation rushes from him and I get a whiff of the coffee he’s most recently consumed. It makes me want to suck the caffeine right from his tongue. He draws me to him and kisses my lips in a soft, stark contrast to the way his fingers dig into my jaw and hips. “My God, woman, what is wrong with you? Most women would just want to watch the fucking movie.”
“I’m not most women,” I sigh against his lips. “I crave to rile you up and provoke you. I like watching the vein in your forehead pulsate when you’re pissed. I like when you tie me up and spank me and treat me like you own me.”
He will own me—but not for much longer.
His hands make quick work of tugging off my sweatshirt and I whimper in pleasure. It, along with my bra, gets tossed to the floor behind us.
“I do own you, Bunny. Every pretty inch of your body—inside and out.”
I lift up on my knees and straddle him, his rock hard dick is a solid indication of his eagerness to play. His mouth finds my nipple and I moan in delight. “Oh, yes, I need this right now.”
He groans and his hot breath tickles my breast. It exhilarates me to the point that I wonder if I could orgasm this way. His teeth sink into my tender flesh and I let loose a scream of pleasure. My head drops back the moment his thumb fingers me between my legs over my yoga pants. Having not seen him in so long, I know I’ll easily succumb to bliss simply from his external touches.
Without warning, a shudder ripples through me and I cry out. With every press of his thumb on my clit, I grind against his thickened cock in an attempt to draw out as much pleasure as possible.
“I can’t breathe,” I whisper and collapse against his chest, our sweaty skin rubbing against each other.
He inhales and murmurs something so soft, I almost don’t hear over the opening credits of the movie. “I can’t breathe without you.”
My heart that’s skipping a few beats doesn’t take the time to register what he means because a very familiar movie—one of my favorite movies—starts playing behind me. And it’s not anything Disney.
“Brax! You didn’t!” I squeal as I scramble to turn around.
Sweet Home Alabama with Reese Witherspoon is playing on the large screen and I want to cry. This movie all adorable and romantic, reminds me so much of my Georgian life before Jimmy, back when things were fun and easy. My legs are draped over his right leg and he cradles his arm around me, his fingertips brushing my bare back softly.
“I thought we were going to fuck,” he teases with a chuckle.
I absolutely love when he’s like this—like a real man should be around his woman. Swallowing down that thought, I chew on my lip before answering. Do I think about myself as his woman? I certainly feel like I belong to him more than I ever did with Jimmy. Brax makes me want to be his. And even though he demands it, he never bullies it out of me like my husband did. Sure, he’s unorthodox in his ways, but he does it in a way that turns me on and draws me closer to him. I’m not even sure he realizes he does it.
“Should have stuck with the Disney movie. I can assure you, you’d have my pants off already,” I tease and press a kiss to his smiling cheek. “But, you dug your own grave and now you have to lie in it.”
“I’ll get those pants off of you eventually tonight, Bunny.”
I snuggle against him as he pulls the covers over us. This, with Brax, is something I could most certainly get used to. My heart aches and begs the question my mind doesn’t want to answer.
What if?