Tears of Tess

Brax shifted. His heavy c**k pressed against my thigh. Knowledge blazed bright; I leaned up to kiss him.

He froze as I coaxed his lips open. I could give him back his girlfriend. Show I really had returned.

With a harsh groan, he collapsed on top, fingers working deep. His touch didn’t flare or sizzle like Q’s. Horribly, I found myself growing dry, not wet.

“Tess. God, I’ve missed you.” Soft lips pressed against mine. I wanted to close my eyes, but I needed to reaffirm the man making love to me was not Q Mercer. Not this boy with messy, floppy brown hair and eyes like the sky. This was Brax. And I loved him. I do.

I winced as he pressed another finger deeper. I arched my hips, dislodging his touch.

Brax stopped kissing me, looking down. “Is it too soon? I can stop. I just need to know you’re here. I have to have you, Tessie, so I know I’m not dreaming.” He ran his nose down my throat, sighing. “I’ve dreamed of you coming home so many times, I don’t trust myself that this is real.”

I cupped his cheek, tracing his lips with a thumb. Brax was all that mattered. I had to stop thinking and carry on with my future. “I need you, too.”

I needed Brax to wipe away Q’s claim. Then, perhaps, I could be free.

Silently, Brax eased his hips, pressing inside. I winced at the bruising and dryness, but held Brax’s head against my shoulder as he started to move. I willed my body to respond.

Together, we rocked and reconnected. His body filled mine, and I tried so hard to stay in the present. To let the love for Brax evolve from fizzling to blazing passion, but the spark never rose past a tiny glimmer. Not like the galaxies Q conjured, like the devil-magician he was. Stop thinking about that bastard.

Brax moaned, kissing my ear. “Shit, you feel amazing. I missed you. So, so much, you have no idea.”

I hate myself.

I hate Q.

I hate my sick fantasies.

I hated I couldn’t be the woman Brax thought I was. I hated Brax for complaining about his problems rather than what happened to me.

I churned with black thoughts, sighing in relief when Brax came, shuddering and thrusting hard.

My body never rose past a gentle burn, an orgasm was an impossibility.

Brax pulled out and sat up, looking down. My silky slip had risen above my br**sts, revealing nakedness.

“Holy f**k.” His mouth plopped open as he scuttled back, almost falling off the edge of the bed. “Holy shit, Tessie. What the hell happened?” Tears glazed his eyes, locked on my flesh.

My heart raced. I looked down. A loud psychotic laugh erupted. Brax looked as if he contemplated taking me to an insane asylum.

Flogger marks, lashes, kisses of red, and smudges of bruises, painted my normally perfect skin.

I shook my head. If Q whipped and branded, knowing he was sending me back, did he know my old lover would see? Did he do this deliberately?

Q, you’re a conniving ass**le. But in that moment, I didn’t care. The marks linked me to him, and as long as they etched my flesh, I was still esclave. Whether Q wanted it or not.

Brax stood, pacing naked. “Tell me what happened to you. Why the hell are you laughing?”

My smile dissolved; I dropped my gaze. Because my emotions played roulette, I started to cry instead. I smashed at the traitorous liquid.

Brax hesitantly climbed back on the bed.

Guilt swarmed and I dragged sheets up to my chin. “It’s nothing, Brax. Nothing happened. I’m here now. Okay? It’s in the past, and no longer matters.”

Brax shook his head, panic in his blue eyes. “Do you need counselling? We can go now. I feel so helpless.”

The thought of talking to someone was horrid. “No. I’ll be fine. Truly.”

Brax hiccupped, hunching his shoulders. His voice cracked as sadness fell from his lips. “Tess, I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t able to stop them. I relive that day over and over. I want to kill myself for not being strong enough to stop them, and deserve to go to hell for not listening to you. I forced you to go into the café. This is all my fault.”

Panic flared. I couldn’t handle it if Brax broke down. I didn’t have the strength to soothe him as well as me.

But he dissolved, looking more and more distraught by the second.

I sat up, scurrying to him, making sure my body stayed covered. My knees pressed against his as I took his face in my hands. “It wasn’t your fault. No one would have been able to stop them.” My body tensed, remembering Leather Jacket. “No one, okay? We were outnumbered. You need to forgive yourself.”

Brax hung his head. “Don’t you hate me? For not listening? I spent the last two months thinking you were dead. To have you come back to life, wounded, and mentally screwed up…”

I flinched. I was a lot of things, but mentally I was fine. Q wouldn’t win. I would get over him.

He looked into my eyes, stricken. “I woke up in the men’s bathroom, alone. And you were gone. I don’t know how I got back to the hotel, but somehow I did. The police arranged a search party, but no one had hope. They called it off after a week, and the Australian embassy got involved. They sent me home.”

He laughed darkly. “They sent me home without you! How did they think I could go on with my life? I wanted to stay and search myself, but the police said they’d been to the café, and it was boarded up. No one was there.”

Brax took my hand, squeezing painfully. “Where did they take you?”

I was prepared to listen to Brax’s story. It was obvious it ate him alive, but my story… I couldn’t. I couldn't tell him the horrible experience in Mexico. I couldn’t tell him about the rape when I ran away. I couldn’t tell him how much Q meant to me. How much I craved him—even now. I would take it to the grave.

Brax grabbed my wrist, spying the barcode for the first time. Running a thumb over the lines, he murmured, “They did this to you? The low life wankers.” He flipped my wrist as if he could peel it off and make it disappear. “Why did they tattoo you?”

My hand went behind my ear, terror raging. I still had a tracking device in my neck. Q may have taken off his GPS responder, but what if the Mexicans could find me again? Did it automatically fail after time? I needed to find out how to deactivate it, immediately.

Forcing myself to be calm, I said, “Don’t worry about me; tell me what happened to you. So you got home? I’m so sorry you were on your own, Brax. I’m sorry I left you.”