The scars of us Page 15

  “So fucking hot,” Brax remarks, his hand caressing my inner thigh. Dipping my hand further down, I press a finger inside. My excitement soaks my fingers, before I find my clit again, working in a circular motion.

  Hastily, Brax takes off his clothes, throwing them to the floor, dropping to his knees. “I need to taste you,” he whispers. Grabbing my legs, he drags me closer, slinging my legs over his shoulders. Without time to react, his hot mouth is suddenly on my sex, licking and flicking my clit. I tense up as does every muscle in my stomach. I press my heel against his broad muscular back as uncontrollable moans escape me, and I reach up, grabbing handfuls of his hair. The pleasure of feeling him down there is so damn intense that I instinctively arch my back. Sucking my clit into his mouth, a louder moan escapes me and I dig my nails into his scalp.

  “Oh, God.”

  Gripping my ass tighter, he doesn’t ease up. Working me over and over he sends my body and mind into a frenzy. He lets out small grunts and groans, letting me know he’s enjoying this just as much as I am. When I feel like I can no longer take anymore, Brax suddenly stops. Hastily, he stands up, taking his cock in his hand, working up and down, all the while, staring at me with a sexy smile. The light from the window highlights the glistening I left around his mouth. “I want us to come together, baby.”

  His large hands land on my small hips and he somehow manages to flip me over in one smooth movement. Positioning me on my knees, he uses his hands to widen my stance, my ass and sex in the air. I bury my head into the bed, the feel of his needy cock rubbing up and down inside my folds. I push back, desperate to feel him fill me completely.

  “Your pussy is greedy for my cock,” he teases, continuing to rub it up and down. I let out a growl of frustration, fisting the bedsheets with anticipation. I shiver as I feel him graze my clit with the tip of his cock. Breathing hard, I begin to rock back and forth, nudging the tip of his cock against my entrance. His hand roams up my back, grabbing my shoulder as he moves back before driving into me, stretching me completely to accommodate him. I bite down on my own lip hard as the pleasurable sensation borderlines pain. I clench my eyes shut as he continues to rock into me, filling me, making me feel everything.

  “Fuck, Izzy,” he rasps from behind me.

  Pumping into me it feels so good. But almost too good. I can barely hold on. Leaning forward, I try to break the contact to slow the speed of my impending orgasm, but Brax pulls me back into him. His large hands on my hips keeps me steady and I fear that I won’t be able to hold on for much longer. Something sparks inside me and I can’t stop the shake that overcomes me. I clamp my eyes shut, preparing myself for the most explosive orgasm as I feel the pressure build and build relentlessly. Punishing me, Brax continues his rough yet pleasurable rhythm. Shutting my eyes, I cry out loud. Like a wave crashing against me, I move my body back and forth, working through the spasm of my eye-blurring orgasm.

  Bliss explodes through my body, and damn, it feels so good. Every inch of me is alive, the tingle works through every nerve ending. Continuing to pump into me, it isn’t long before he stills inside me, his cock jerking and pulsing. Dropping his head against my back, he groans as he rides out the wave of his own orgasm.

  “Holy fuck,” he curses out, his hand reaching forward and pulling back the loose strands of hair that have fallen onto my face. Falling onto my front, Brax joins me, appearing right beside me. Taking hold of my hand, he intertwines our fingers, pulling our connected hands to his chest. His whole body is covered in a shimmer of sweat, his chest heaves and the strands that always fall onto his forehead are damp. I smile widely, the kind that reaches the corners of my eyes. The true representation of how I feel in this moment. Whole. Happy. Content. I’d wondered for so many years what it would be like being intimate with Brax. I always kind of knew it would be explosive and full of feeling, and I wasn’t wrong. Piece by piece, he’s managed to mend the broken within me. Making me feel loved, wanted, and cared for.

  “Hey,” he whispers with a soothing tone to his voice, but lust is still heavy in his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” I pull his hands to my mouth, kissing the back of his masculine hands.

  “You just looked a little distant for a moment there.”

  “Just thinking about you,” I say a little coyly.

  “Well, of course.” His voice is cocky and a smirk forms on his lips.

  “Being with you is something I’d dreamed about so many times that I have to pinch myself now. I can’t quite believe I’m here in your arms, feeling the way I feel. I was sure I wouldn’t get to feel this with you. And well,” I swipe the loose tear falling over my flushed skin, “it’s better than I could ever have imagined.”

  “Don’t cry, baby. Please.”

  “These are happy tears. Tears of joy not sorrow.” I give him a flash of a smile to show him I mean it. “I’m not sad, Brax. Not when I’m with you. You make me feel complete.”

  And I mean every word. From complete isolation to pain, rape, and violence. Everything about those years were messed up. But this here is my version of perfection. Just the two of us. Nothing will ever change that.

  The next day I wake stupidly early, eager to find out what Brax has planned.

  “Brax,” I whisper, pushing against his arm. He groans loudly, turning his back on me. “Hey,” I say giving him a harder shove. “I want to know what the secret is.” I lean over, pressing my chin against his arm.

  “What time is it?” he asks with a grumble.

  “Nearly nine a.m.,” I say excitedly, bouncing a little and I know I’m annoying the hell out of him.

  “You cannot be serious,” he croaks, turning to face me. Rubbing his knuckles over his eyes, he tries to adjust, blinking rapidly. “It’s too damn early.”

  “I’m excited for today’s surprise.”

  His sleepy face screws up a little as he smiles. “You really are excited, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Brax, every day this week has been amazing. I seriously don’t know how you’ll beat all of the other surprises.”

  Resting his hand against the side of my face, he inches his face closer to mine. “This one is kind of special. Part of the healing process.”

  Narrowing my eyes on him, I look at him suspiciously. “Hmmm, I’m not sure what that means, but I’m still excited to find out.” His hand moves from my face, skirting over my arm before making contact with my ass. Slapping it playfully, I jerk a little and his eyes suddenly seem so alive. “So,” he says with a grin. “Go get dressed. We set off in fifteen minutes. Be ready.”

  Leaning in, I kiss his stubble-covered cheek noisily, a small squeal escaping me. I rush over to the closet, pulling out the first thing I can find and make my way to the bathroom to get ready. “So,” I shout back into the bedroom, “do I need anything special for today?”

  “Nope,” he shouts back, giving absolutely nothing away. I grab the toothbrush, pressing a blob of paste onto it and start brushing my teeth. I glance constantly into the bedroom, butterflies flutter in my stomach as I grow more excited by the second. I love that he’s done this for me. That he’s put so much thought into each day we have spent together.

  “Ugh, you’re impossible,” I mumble with the brush still in my mouth. Leaning into the sink I spit the contents out, rinsing the brush under the flow.

  “Can’t you give me a clue?” I ask sweetly, looking into the bedroom through the open door.

  “You need to get that inner child under control. All you need to know is it’s a surprise.”

  “Fine,” I say playfully, making my way out of the bathroom and down the stairs. I grab some fruit, placing it in my purse and wait for him on the couch. I slide on my shoes, clutching my bag on my knees.

  Finally making an appearance, he gives me a nod and I jump up from the seat and over to the door.

  “Hey,” he says, taking me by the arm and spinning me on the spot. I look up at him, a huge smile plastered across my face and my eyes flutter as
I look into his. “Could you be any more fucking cute?” I swallow hard as I feel the heat in my cheeks.

  Spending time with Brax was everything I imagined it would be, and at this point, everything I need. His comfort makes me forget momentarily. The time we spend heals me a little every day. I forget the anger and pain I feel inside, making memories with him that I’ll never forget.

  “Ready?” he asks, pressing a sweet kiss against my lips.

  “So ready,” I reply, lifting up onto my tiptoes and pressing my lips against the tip of his nose.

  We drive for what seems such a short time, but I know in reality it was much longer. We pull up outside a house I’d never seen before. The bike comes to a complete stop and I quickly remove my helmet and swing my leg over the bike, dropping to the ground.

  “Where are we?” I ask, my eyes questioning Brax as he stands from the bike. One swift movement and he’s free of his helmet.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he replies with a squint. “All I know is that this is where I arranged to meet him.”

  “Who?”

  “Nate.”

  I have no idea what is happening. “I don’t get it?” Sensing the panic, he reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers.

  “Let me show you.”

  I look at him with panic etched across my face. He’s brought me to a house in a place I don’t know, and despite the fact that I trust him implicitly, I can’t help but feel wary.

  “Baby, I got you. Promise.”

  I relax a little, following his lead as we make our way closer to the door. Rapping his knuckles against the wood, he steps back, waiting for an answer.

  The door opens and a shirtless Nate answers the door. I can’t help but stare at his abundance of scary-ass tattoos.

  “Come in.” He offers out his hand. “I’m all ready for you.”

  “Whose house is this?” Brax asks, releasing my hand and taking Nate’s.

  “My friend Damo. I thought it was easier here away from the rest; plus, I get to do what I love away from the scrutiny of Jeffries.” He rolls his eyes and Brax gives him a nod of understanding.

  “I still don’t understand,” I say with a shake of my head

  “You will,” Brax responds, giving me a wink. I glance around the house, my eyes scanning the hall as we make our way out of the house, through the yard and over to a huge outbuilding. I don’t really have a chance to take it all in before I’m gawping into a room with photographs of body art strewn across the walls. A single black couch is located in the middle of the room. I gasp as I take it all in, suddenly realizing exactly why we are here.

  “A tattoo?” I ask tentatively

  “Baby,” he pulls me against his chest, “you are so bothered by your scar, and I know it’s a constant reminder, so I thought I’d bring you to Nate to get it covered up. If you want to that is?”

  “Yeah, no pressure,” Nate says, sitting in a black chair, swinging it from side to side. “It doesn’t have to be anything too big, just enough to cover the markings on your skin.”

  Nodding, I peel myself from Brax’s hold, removing my jacket and handing it to him.

  “Let’s do this,” I say, then I smile, sliding onto the couch, ready for whatever comes next. Shivering, I rub my hands together in front of me, overcome with emotion at the thought of finally being free of his branding. A solitary tear slips from my eyes, falling down over my cheek.

  “Baby.” Brax slides into the chair beside the couch, clutching the back of my neck; he brings my focus back to him. “If this is too much, or too soon, just say the word.”

  “It’s not that,” I whisper, wiping away the tear from my cheek. “It’s like the final goodbye. Closure.”

  “What kind of thing are you looking for?” Nate asks, leaning on his elbows, all eyes on me.

  “I want the three roses. Something like what Brax has,” I say with a smile.

  “Sure, I can do that pretty much freehand.” Nate swivels in his chair, grabbing gloves and pulling them on while getting the gun ready.

  I sit up, sliding my top off and hold it across my chest, using it to conceal the parts I didn’t want on show. I pull my bra straps down, making sure the area is completely clear for him. Turning toward me, he cleans the area before grabbing the tattoo gun.

  “Ready?” he asks with a lift of his brow. I give him a firm nod as he begins pressing it against my skin. The sound of buzzing fills the small room. The scratching sensation, over and over on my skin stings a little, but isn’t overly painful. Brax clutches my hand, periodically kissing the back of it gently.

  Minutes turn into hours and after two hours, my tattoo is finally complete.

  “Done,” Nate informs me with a huge smile. “I think this might be one of my favorite tattoos to date. I just love the meaning behind this.” Grabbing a handheld mirror, he holds it in front of me. I sit up a little, getting a closer look at it.

  “Wow,” I choke out. “It’s beautiful.”

  Giving him a slap on the back, Brax nods his head.

  I gawk at the three roses across my chest. They are delicate and intricately drawn, reaching up to my shoulder. The design covers the scar perfectly and fits like it was always meant to be there.

  “Happy?” Nate asks, moving his head, trying to catch my eye.

  “I love it, I really love it.”

  “Good, now lie back, let me get you covered and you’re all good to go.”

  He begins wiping something from a jar onto the area and covering it with some sort of plastic, finally covering it with gauze. “It’s important to keep it clean. You can take off the plastic tomorrow.”

  “You really love this don’t you?”

  “I was born for this fucking shit. I love bringing artwork alive. Behind every tattoo there is usually a story.” He cocks a brow, looking between me and Brax. “Just like yours.”

  Smiling, I slide off the couch and stand in front of Brax. Reaching onto my tiptoes, I crane my neck to kiss him on the lips. His eyes fall shut and a small moan escapes him.

  “This means more than you know,” I hum against his lips. His arm snakes around my waist, encompassing me into his hold.

  “Good,” he murmurs, touching the end of my nose with his own. “I love you, Isabelle.” He whispers his declaration against my ear, a warm shudder wracks through me.

  “I love you too.”

  “I can’t believe you got a tattoo,” Tara gasps, clutching onto my arm. “It looks amazing. Nate is one talented tattoo artist.”

  “He really is.” I flash her a smile.

  Buzzing with excitement, we walk toward the fancy bar. I shuffle along in the new dress and ridiculously painful stilettos we bought on our shopping trip. “Come on, you must be excited. This is the best bar in downtown. I’m surprised you got a reservation at such late notice.”

  “Really?” I look at her with my eyebrows drawn a little. “They gave me a table, no problem.”

  “So, come on.” She tugs on my arm, checking over her shoulder at the guys walking behind us. “You got to admit that Nate is looking mighty fine tonight.”

  I laugh a little. “He’s got his own style, I’ll give you that.” I glance at him and Brax talking in hushed voices. His long hair is tied back into a bun, the tattoos stretch up to his neck. “You really dig him, don’t you?”

  “Shhh…” she says, pressing her index finger to her lips. “This double-date, non-date thing can’t get us into trouble. I’ve already been warned.”

  “By who?”

  “Those two.” She juts her thumb over her shoulder at the boys, and I nod, knowing how discreet these two have to be.

  “If you two are serious about each other and want to be together, you can’t let anyone stop you.”

  “Whoa, slow down there, princess.” She laughs a little. “Right now, I dig the guy. Doesn’t mean I’m serious, mmmkay?”

  “Sure, Tara,” I say, walking up to the guy at the entrance to the bar. His eyes are focused on me and
I stop right in front of him.

  “Reservation for four, in the name of Harris.”

  “You booked this in Brax’s name?” she whispers in my ear.

  “Of course,” I say with a loose lift of my shoulders. “You’re looking at the future Mrs. Harris,” I say with a nudge of my elbow.

  “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting you.” The smart-looking guy says, holding out his arm. “Just this way.” He turns and I look at Tara, wondering why he would say that, but never challenging it. She shakes her head, her bottom lip downturned a little. I check over to see Brax’s face hardened, his eyes on me. I have no idea what is happening, but I continue to follow the waiter to the booth right at the back of the bar. Sliding into the booth, I sit beside Tara. Brax and Nate sit opposite us.

  “What can I get you guys to drink?” the waiter asks.

  “Cocktails. We gotta order cocktails,” Tara sings beside me, reaching for the drinks menu, passing one to me. I look up at Brax whose harsh expression hasn’t lifted the whole time.

  “What would you recommend?” I ask the waiter, looking up at him as he grasps his notepad in his hand.

  “Well, the martini we sell is our most popular cocktail. But of course the Manhattan and Sex on the Beach are popular too.”

  “We’ll have two martinis please,” Tara shouts from beside me.

  “Two bourbons for us. Make them doubles, on the rocks,” Brax blurts out, glaring at the waiter. Nodding his head, he leaves the table and I can’t help but glare at Brax.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, confused by his sudden change in temperament.

  Leaning over the table, he stares directly at me. “What was that about, when we first got here.”

  “I wondered about that too,” Tara interjects. “We’ve been expecting you. Strange thing to say.”

  “I knew this was a bad idea,” he grumbles.

  “It’s fine.” I grab a hold of his hand. “Just relax and have fun.”

  Our drinks arrive and I take the straw, sipping the drink carefully. I haven’t had alcohol in such a long time, and then it was only the little bit that Dad let me have at Christmas, as a treat.