My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7) (28 page)

Casey turned herself in the water, so she was facing him. She took his hand with the bath sponge in it, and rubbed her breasts with it. Brent’s cock was so hard he could feel the teeth of his zipper press against it. “What if I need it right now? What if I need to be loved and cherished, right this moment?”

That was all the encouragement Brent needed. In one swift motion, he scooped Casey up and had her in his arms, dripping water across the hall to his bedroom. He watched her wet nipples pucker under the air conditioning, and covered one with his mouth while she helped him yank off his clothes. Then he covered her cold wet body with his warm dry one.

The feel of her soft skin against his was what drove Brent mad. He was out of control, as he tried to touch every inch of her body. Against his own wishes of seeing her in all her glory, he covered them both with his quilt, to try to stop her shivering.

Rolling over, so she was on top, Brent relinquished control, feeling like she needed to set the pace. The emotions from the last couple of days were overwhelming him, and he knew that if he were in control, he would hurt her, or the baby with his intensity.

He watched Casey move on top of him, going back to thinking of his hay yields and ways to improve it, while her hair tickled the tops of his thighs as she bounced up and down on him with her head back. She leaned back, grabbing his ankles, and kept moving and Brent almost lost it. He clenched his teeth together and fisted the sheets at his side, while she moaned her pleasure at the new place he touched inside her. He watched her pussy bouncing up and down his cock, an image he never tired of, and felt it swell. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on not coming too soon.

Brent sat up, wrapping his arms around Casey, letting her continue her rocking motions, but feeling the need to touch her body. He was amazed by the fact that such a comparatively small part of his anatomy could evoke such strong sensations in his body. He shuddered, as she rose and lowered herself on him. Brent held her close to his body, feeling her breasts as they rubbed up and down his chest.

Suddenly, the overwhelming love he felt for this woman sent his senses soaring. He could feel every muscle under her skin, every hair in her head, every breath that left her body. And he wanted more. His fingers clutched at her waist, and he cried out as the sensations became almost too much. When he felt her inner muscles start to tremble and tighten, he caressed her back and pulled her neck to his mouth, tasting the sweetness of her clavicle. As she climaxed around him, he stilled to feel everything, every last shudder of her muscles, before rolling over on top of her and regaining control.

He forced himself to take things slowly, reminding himself to savor, and as he felt her climax wane, he thought about what he’d almost lost. He reminded himself of what he had in his arms, and entwined his fingers with hers as he moved in and out of her. She shuddered under him, and as he finally reached his climax, Casey cried out with her own passion again and they fell together, gasping.

Brent pulled her body next to his, needing to feel her warmth against him, but to his dismay, he found her trembling. Stroking her face, he felt tears, and realized that she was sobbing in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

“I’m just…It’s just that…” He waited for her to tell him, he could tell she wanted to, but was unable to come up with the words. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but it’s just so overwhelming. Where I’ve been versus where I am now.”

Brent didn’t say anything, just continued to hold her and let her cry it out. Finally, she seemed to calm a little and continued.

“Kevin wouldn’t have sex with me after he found out I was pregnant. He wouldn’t ever touch me at all.”

“I wish I’d killed him.” Brent didn’t have any other words to say. The all-encompassing rage that came over him at just hearing Kevin’s name, let alone when Casey told of how he’d treated her, made him want to pummel him until his heart ceased beating. Instead, he held the woman who held his own heart.

He held Casey until she slept, and then he rose from the bed, and pulled on his jeans. Walking onto his porch, Brent looked up at the stars in the sky and thanked God for his newfound happiness with Casey. He said the first prayer of thanks he could remember, and then pleaded with the heavens to help him do all the right things to keep her. His emotions were stretched tautly, and he hoped that with Casey’s help, he would be able to find an emotional center. Maybe she could really teach him some of her visualization techniques. When he finished, he wiped away a lone tear, trickling down his cheek, and returned to Casey’s side, sleeping soundly until morning.

Casey awoke to a rustling sound by her side. The sunlight streamed in behind her closed lids and the smell of homemade biscuits wafted through her nose. She opened her eyes and saw Brent sliding something onto his tongue, watching her sheepishly.

She realized he was taking his “fix” and saw that he was ashamed of it. “It’s okay, Brent.”

“I know. It’s still a little embarrassing. For you to see. I was trying to do it without waking you.”

She snuggled closer to him. “Is it like the pills? Does it make you high?”

He thought a minute before answering, and she enjoyed his arm as it came around her. “No, it doesn’t make me high, but it doesn’t make me sick like the withdrawal from the pill did. But I don’t miss the pills, either. Does that make sense?”

She nodded, basking in his presence. It occurred to her that
someone
was in the kitchen making biscuits. “Brent? Are you making biscuits?”

“Um. I think I heard your mom humming in there earlier. I haven’t wanted to get up and check though. You’re much more entertaining to watch sleep, than your mom making biscuits.”

“Shouldn’t we go check on her?”

“Eventually, I think we should, yes. But surely she’s going to make something to go along with the biscuits, like eggs and bacon, don’t you think? We’ve probably got some time.”

She eyed him warily. Surely he wasn’t thinking they could do anything in this tiny house with her mom in the kitchen, did he? “Time for what?”

“I was thinking about drawing up plans for the new house, and I wanted your thoughts on it.”

She raised her head to look at him, and saw he was serious. “What kind of thoughts?”

“Well, I love you. I don’t know what your plans are for the future, or if you’re even still planning on staying in Serendipity, but I’d sort of hoped…” He closed his eyes, leaned back his head and spoke the words to his ceiling, as if he didn’t want to see her reaction.

She pretended to be aghast. He was just too much fun to mess with. “You want me to live in
sin
with you? In your new house?”

He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand, which made Casey giggle. He was too easy. He peeked at her through two fingers, and saw her grinning at him. “You’re kidding with me?” She nodded.

Brent sat up in the bed, and pulled both of Casey’s hands to him. “Casey, I don’t want to live in sin with you. I want us to be happy, forever. I want you to marry me.” He looked at her hands. “Christ. I don’t have a ring. I’m doing it wrong.” He looked around the room, as if the perfect engagement ring would pop into existence just by his looking for it. “Shit.” He mumbled, looking at his lap. He was still clutching Casey’s hands, as if they were a lifeline.

“Yes, Brent. I’d love to marry you. I’ve always wanted to marry you.”

He looked up at her, and the hope and joy in his eyes made Casey squeal. He wrapped his arms around her, and rocked her back and forth. Casey’s hormonal emotions peaked as he squeezed her, and she squealed again.

Suddenly a knock on the bedroom door busted them apart, and Casey clutched the sheet to her neck. Fortunately, her mom didn’t come in.

“You guys know I’m right in the kitchen, don’t you? I can hear every word you say?”

“Um…Yes, ma’am,” Brent answered dutifully.

“Then save the proposing for when you have a ring, Cowboy, and come out here for some biscuits and gravy.”

L
ow moans come from deep in her diaphragm as Brent’s murmuring drawl sends soothing sounds to her core. His large calloused hands stroke her back as her muscles tighten sharply. She grunts and moans, as she writhes under his touch. Perspiration beads on her brow as she whimpers and catches her breath from the devastating sensations she is experiencing. Brent’s fingers entwine with hers, and he raises her knuckles to his mouth, kissing each one tenderly.

“You’re doing amazing, Case. Just a little while longer. You’re almost there.”

Her labor progresses, as each contraction comes faster and faster, until finally, she’s allowed to push. Eagerly, Casey tries to sit up, an act of Congress, with two nurses and Brent helping her weakened frame. When she finally pushes, eyes squinted closed with effort, she feels an overwhelming relief, lack of pressure, and then hears a faint cry.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor murmurs encouragingly, as he hands off the screaming baby to a nurse, who takes it under the heat lamp to do her inspection.

Early summer sunshine warmed Casey’s legs as she sat on the porch, eyes closed, practicing her meditative visualization to the accompanying cadence of Mooch’s soft snores.

A shadow passing under the bright May sunshine snaps her out of her fantasy, to see a vision standing in front of her. Brent’s profile, outlined by the sun, as he briefly shaded her eyes with his cowboy hat, before sitting in the chair next to her, was strong and protective. Her haven.

“What was it this time?” He asks her softly.

Casey smiled to herself, “A boy.” She said nothing else, as Brent’s hand gingerly reached out to touch her belly, enormous now with only two weeks left in her pregnancy. Her tank top was pulled up above the watermelon sized bump under her taut skin, and her maternity shorts were rolled down below it. Too hot to keep it covered, she’d been staying at home, where she could go without clothing as much as possible. Brent didn’t seem to mind. He managed to keep his rough fingers on her more often than not, rubbing lotion into her stretched skin, kneading sore muscles.

In fact, she’d been tickled to see his joy to learn that the hormones that wreaked so much havoc on a pregnant woman’s psyche also made them horny as hell, and had done everything he could think of to make sure Casey was satisfied, even when it kept him home from working the horses the way he needed to.

He’d managed to build a nursery onto the house, and was working on enlarging the kitchen/living room area. Gloria came out a couple of times a week to cook and help clean, but for the most part, they’d been happy being there alone. Summer was back, for now, and up until a couple of weeks ago, Casey had been going into town to spend afternoons shopping with her friend.

“Mrs. Baum, are you ready to go look at our newest family members?” He held out his hand, and she grasped it, using his strength to lurch her unwieldy body, coupled with the rocking motion and an unladylike grunt, out of the chair.

Brent led her to the truck and helped her inside, accompanied by more grunts and some heavy breathing, before driving past the main barn out to the quarantine barn, where the newest rescues were being housed.

“I’m going to let the mare and her foal go into the general pop tomorrow, but I thought you might like to see them again before they get mixed in.” His hands on her lower back and elbow steadied her as she picked her way to the barn entrance. Brent had already mixed the feed and the horses were waiting expectantly for their dinner. As he poured the buckets into their troughs, she sneaked a hand out to pet the tiny colt who’d almost died a couple of weeks ago.

She scratched him behind his ears while he nuzzled his mama, who was eating from the trough. He managed to lean into her scratches, while simultaneously keeping physical contact with his mother. The colt had lost its skittishness rather quickly, compared to some of Brent’s other rescues, possibly because its mother was extremely gentle.

Casey watched as Brent pulled out the curry brush and cooed soothingly to the enormous stallion while he smoothed down the coat that got shinier each day. Brent’s silent potency stole her breath as she watched him calmly stroke the beast in long, smooth motions while humming softly. When he’d stopped taking the buprenorphine strips, she’d been alarmed initially at his weight loss. When the loss stopped, a leaner, stronger Brent emerged. He’d gone through a rough couple of weeks, going through mild withdrawals from having no drugs in his system whatsoever, but she had still been queasy from eternal morning sickness, so they’d suffered through it together.

And they’d both come out healthy.

Brent had been with her every step of her pregnancy, going to OB/GYN visits, holding her hair through the sickness, trying her disgusting food combinations, and declaring every moment a delight, even when she knew he was lying about the hot dog wienies dipped in chocolate. Together, they were carrying a healthy baby.

She tried to be just as supportive with his dependency issues, making celebratory dinners for his accomplishments, and accompanying him to his therapist’s visits when he wanted her to. She knew that she was the impetus for his getting clean, but he was staying clean for himself, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to provide for their family with a pill habit.