If Only (4 page)

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Authors: Lisa M. Owens

BOOK: If Only
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“It’s your turn,” she murmured against his mouth as she covered his lips with hers. Her fingertips pressed roughly against the strained fabric of his jeans, fondling him gently. She wound her fingers through the denim loops, pulling the fabric down the long length of his muscular legs. Bree leaned over her husband’s toned physique, her mouth pressing against his throbbing manhood, dampening the material of his briefs. She grinned at the sound of Scott’s tortured groan. He reached for her, but she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. She intended to make him squirm.

Obviously, Scott had reached his limit. He grabbed her and pressed her to him, his tongue entwining with hers. Bree laughed into his open mouth as she reached for the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down.

“Open sesame,” he murmured with a mischievous grin as he cupped her thighs with his strong hands and spread her legs apart. She raised her hips to accommodate him, their bodies merging together as one. Her womanly core was moist and ready for him, and he guided himself into her gently.

Bree gasped aloud as he entered her, her arms wrapping around his muscled back. Her fingernails dug into his taut flesh as he plunged into her. She matched him thrust for thrust, her hips moving in sync with his. Her body ached all over; she wanted to touch him everywhere, wanted to be touched everywhere.

His hard body rocked back and forth, driving her fingernails further into the skin of his back. “Oh, Bree,” he murmured. “I love you so much, baby.” Scott exploded, their bodies merging together with a force that rendered them both speechless.

They lay there for quite a while, their bodies exhausted, both of them still taking deep breaths. Bree easily summed it all up in only one word. “Wow!”

Scott looked over at her and laughed; both of them were lying on their satin sheets as naked as the day they were born. Her mouth dropped as she watched his body hardening right before her very eyes. Even after almost two years of marriage, they still couldn’t get enough of each other.

She caressed his muscular chest, wanting this moment to last forever. She wished she could be held in his arms forever. She wanted to memorize every minute of their lovemaking, so if she went back to her other life, she would always remember this man, and this moment.

He gazed down at her when her hands suddenly stilled. His dark eyes searched her face, noting her expression had suddenly turned solemn. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he questioned with concern.

She wiped a tear away and then met his chocolate brown stare, her eyes filling with fresh tears.

“I don’t want to go back to the way my life was before, Scott. I’m so happy right now, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

He held a finger to her lips and gazed into her eyes. “You’re never going to lose me, Red. You might as well face it; you’re stuck with me for life.” He grinned boyishly and touched his lips to hers. His hands stroked the smooth curves of her face, and then he pushed back a wayward copper curl that had fallen into her eyes.

Bree smiled sadly, failing to meet his gaze. She reached impulsively for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “I have something to tell you,” she confessed with a deep sigh, “and I don’t know how you’re going to react.” She looked up to see him examining her with confusion etched in his handsome features.

“Please tell me you’re not having an affair.”

She laughed. She looked over at her husband, who seemed to be breathing a deep sigh of relief. “No, of course not!” she exclaimed, smiling.

The look on his face seemed to be anticipating the worst. She could only imagine the thoughts racing through his head. He was probably either thinking she wanted a divorce or she was leaving him for someone else.

Attempting to keep the mood upbeat, he asked, “You haven’t recently discovered you’re gay, have you?”

She shook her head adamantly, surprised at his outrageous questions. The funny thing was she didn’t know if he was genuinely concerned it was one of those two things or if he was just trying to get a smile out of her. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know. Bree laughed, looking anxious as she eyed her husband. She took a deep, cleansing breath. It was now or never. She grinned, but the expression failed to reach her eyes. “Scott,” her gaze held his stare, unwavering, determined. “I’m pregnant, Scott.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open as he stared at her, stunned into silence. He threw his strong arms around her slender frame and pressed her against his chest before lifting her out of bed and swinging her around in circles. He laughed as he kissed her full on the lips before releasing her. “Baby, what were you so afraid of?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “This is the most incredible news! I’m going to be a daddy!” he shouted joyfully.

She watched in astonishment as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, staring at her in amazement. She wasn’t sure just what she had expected his reaction to be, but this definitely wasn’t what she had anticipated. She released a sigh of relief. He seemed to be ecstatic. Her heart swelled as she considered what had just happened. After all this time, she was having a baby, and she was having a baby with a man she loved and adored. She smiled to herself.
And I was worried!

Suddenly he turned around to stare at her, confusion etched on his handsome face. “Did you think I’d be upset?” he asked, the tone of his voice disbelieving.

Bree held up her hands, ready to explain herself. “You just don’t understand, Scott. I was afraid of your reaction. I’ve already told you about Bryan. He looked at having a baby as an inconvenience, something that would force him to grow up. Something that would cause me to lose my figure. He—”

Scott interrupted her in mid-sentence, his dark brown eyes narrowing into angry slits. “Bree, we’ve discussed this,” he warned.

Her green eyes filled with tears at the furious tone in his voice. “You don’t believe me,” she whispered. “I didn’t dream any of it,” she said, her voice rising in anger. “It really happened, Scott, and it hurts me that you don’t trust me, and I don’t know how to make you believe me. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, don’t you?” she pleaded, begging for him to understand.

“I was married to a controlling monster who was abusive to me in every sense of the word. He was physically, emotionally, and sexually abusive. He found great pleasure in insulting me in front of other people, and he made me feel as though I were nothing. He didn’t care anything about me. I was only a pretty plaything for him to toy with and control. A possession he could show off to all of his friends; a trophy wife who made him look good.”

He looked at her as though she had just punched him in the stomach. It was almost as though he was either frightened for her or in pain, possibly both. But for once, she refused to yield. She was not the same woman she once was. She angrily bent down and picked up her discarded red chemise and robe off the floor.

She ran a hand through her long auburn curls before she spoke, her feelings more hurt than she cared to admit. “Maybe you’re not that different from Bryan after all,” she murmured.

Without another word to her husband, she turned and marched out of their bedroom, heading for the spare room down the hallway, closing and locking the door with a definitive click behind her.

Chapter 3

“What the hell do you mean, you’re pregnant?”

“I’m sorry, Bryan,” Bree apologized as she ran her fingers through her crimson curls. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an accident.”

“An accident?” he scoffed. “You’re damn right it was an accident. An unwanted accident.” He glared at her with daggers in his midnight blue eyes. “And you’re going to rid us of this accident.”

She shook her head adamantly. “I’m sorry, Bryan, but I can’t do that.”

“What the hell do you mean you can’t do that?” he roared as he picked up one of Bree’s cherished porcelain figurines and threw it against the window, causing glass to shatter in every direction. “You will do whatever the hell I tell you to do. I own you, Bree Sexton. You’re nothing without me.”

She tried to back away from him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing painfully. She cried out as his fingernails dug into her bare skin, her red halter top offering her no protection from his viselike grip.

Bryan shoved her backward, slamming her body against the wall. Her head jerked back, knocking against the partition. His strong hands tightened around her delicate throat. “Don’t screw with me, Bree,” he threatened. “Get an abortion, or face the consequences.”

Her hands shook as she tried to ward off her husband. She stared into his menacing eyes, and she trembled with fear. She had seen this look in his eyes before, and she was afraid. Afraid for both her sake and her baby’s. She knew her husband, and she knew the evil he was capable of. He had darkness in his soul, a darkness that seemed to consume him. She closed her eyes as she tried to block out his cruel words. Just this once, she had to stand up to him. Her baby’s future depended on it.

*

When Bryan felt her shudder, he wanted to laugh out loud. Once again, she had given in to his demands. He had trained her well. He released his hold around her neck and began to walk away. She was like every other woman he had ever known: weak, spineless, and empty-headed. “Call your doctor tomorrow and make the appointment, Bree.”

She took a step forward and took a deep breath. “No, Bryan. I won’t do it.”

He turned around, clenching his jaw. He took a large step toward her, his voice rising in anger, “What the hell did you just say to me?”

Bree cleared her throat and then repeated, “I said no.”

Bryan took another step toward her, removing his leather belt from around his waist and slapping it against the palm of his hand. He chuckled as he stalked toward her. Her green gaze fixated on the sight of the belt. He relished the fact she had fear in her eyes, and he was the one who had put it there.

She swallowed hard at the sight of her husband crossing the floor to her. She flinched as he reached for her, pressing her body against his.

His hands ran along the side of her face as he pressed his mouth to her ear. “You will do what you’re told, Bree,” he warned. “Won’t you?”

His leather belt bit into the bare flesh of her thigh, causing her knees to buckle and forcing her onto the carpet. His blue gaze traveled up her slender leg. She recoiled as he touched her upper thigh. His massive frame towered over her as his hand reached for the button of her cutoff denim shorts. He pulled roughly, causing the button to bounce across the floor. His lips crushed against hers as he tugged at her shorts.

“You dress like a damn slut,” he whispered into her mouth.

Bree shoved him away and replied, “I dress the way you want me to dress.”

He waved the belt in front of her face as he chuckled evilly. “You’re just begging for it, aren’t you? I created you, you little ungrateful, cheeky bitch. And I can kill you.” He chortled. “No one would even miss you.”

He watched her with a smile on his face as she got to her feet, trembling, the fear for herself and their child written plainly on her expressive face.

Bryan kept stepping toward her until he had her backed against the wall. She flinched as he slammed his fist into the wall, causing the plaster to crumble around her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged, forcing her head down. “Have I convinced you to get the abortion yet?”

“No, Bryan, I won’t do it.”

Bree was caught off guard when he smashed his fist into her mouth, the force knocking her to the ground. She brought one of her hands to her mouth, cringing when she saw that it was covered with blood.

He paced in front of her, his gaze triumphant as he watched her lying on the floor, a steady flow of blood streaming from her mouth. Without a word, he walked into the kitchen, returning with a hand towel which he threw at her. “Make sure you clean that mess up. Don’t get your damn blood all over our brand-new carpet, or I’ll wring your sorry neck.”

She looked up at him as she wiped blood off her face. “Can’t I just give the baby up for adoption, Bryan? Or maybe we could keep it? Don’t you want a son to carry on your family name?”

His mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Why would I want a baby, Bree? Why on earth would I want a crying, bitching, snot-nosed child when I have you?”

“But, Bryan,” she protested.

“But, Bryan,” he mocked, his voice raising an octave like a child’s. “You’re proving my point for me.” He reached down and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, shaking her forcefully. “Get rid of it, Bree,” he warned.

Bryan dismissed the anger he saw in his wife’s eyes. He turned to walk away from her. He had won once again. She would never have the courage to fight him. And she would never have the guts to leave him. She was his forever whether she wanted to be or not.

*

She stood up, watching her husband swagger away, dismissing her. She felt an overwhelming rage that had been bottled up inside of her for far too long. She was battered and bruised, hurting on the inside and on the outside, and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t love her; he only used her. To him, she was simply a possession. Just like his expensive car or his solid gold watch. Bryan’s male friends lusted after her, and their wives wanted to be her. Everyone thought she led a charmed life, but she was miserable. And she was beginning to hate her husband more and more with each and every passing day.

“You sick, twisted son of a bitch!” she screamed as she flung herself at her husband, wrapping her body around his back, her legs straddling him from behind. She punched him repeatedly in the shoulder with one hand while grabbing his blond hair with the other.

With one swift movement, he threw her back onto the floor. “You crazy bitch,” he spat out angrily as he kicked her in the stomach.

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