As Tears Go By (11 page)

As
Braydon removed his slacks she slid out of hers. Crap. “I don’t have a condom.”

“In my
wallet.”

She
shyly scooped up his pants and handed them to him. He removed his wallet and
pried loose the condom. Handing it to her, he said, “Put it on me.”

She’d
never done that either. Carefully, she tore the foil and climbed back on top of
him. Her fingers tingled as she lined the circle up with the top of his
erection. He lifted his hips upward and she slowly slid the latex over him.

Meeting
his gaze, she flashed an accomplished smile. “I never did that before.”

“We can
do lots of things you never tried before.”

What a
foreign concept. She’d become so used to simply riding the waves in the wake of
her life she’d stopped thinking about her personal desires. “I want you inside
of me. Like this.”

Braydon
reached for her hands, curling his fingers around hers, as she shifted and
lifted her body over his. He released her hands and caught her by the hips.
“Put me inside of you.”

Reaching
between their bodies, her fingers coiled around his thick length and guided him
to her folds. Lowering herself carefully, she trembled as her body stretched
and he filled her. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure once she seated herself.
Braydon groaned and his fingers flexed, digging into her hips.

Her
mind short-circuited for a few seconds as her shoulders shook, rolling into a
full body shiver. Having him inside of her was incredible. She wanted to simply
savor him there for a moment before she started to move.

Her
hands shifted to his shoulders as she leaned over him. Her hips lifted and slid
down with excruciating slowness.

“Does
it feel good, angel?”

Her
eyes flashed open. “Mmmm. It feels incredible.”

His
hands slowly slid lower, cupping her rear. Blood rushed to her face. No one
ever held her so intimately. “Rub your clit on me, Becca, each time you come
down, drag yourself over my body.”

She
lifted and as she pulled back she felt incredible friction at the top of her
sex. “Oh, my God.”

His
hands squeezed her behind. “That’s it. Do it again.”

She did
and each time a jolt of pleasure shot to her core. Her eyes fell shut, but she
continued to peek through her lashes. Braydon’s half-mast gaze was trained on
her. It was unnerving, but the more she got used to it, it empowered her.

“Do you
always give the woman control?” she whispered as she slowly rode him.

His
lashes lifted and the side of his mouth quirked. “I never used to, but then I
learned how sexy it can be, watching a woman take what she wants. I want you to
challenge me, Becca. Use me for everything your body needs. I won’t break.”

Her
fingers dragged over his shoulders. “I’m not really sure I know how to do
that.”

“It’s
simple. If you want me to eat your pussy, you say,
Braydon, I need your
mouth on me now.
”

Her eyes
widened as she drew in a deep breath through her nose. She couldn’t possibly
say anything like that. Images of Braydon’s soft blond hair between her legs
filled her mind. She was on sensory overload.

“Would
you like me to make you come, angel?”

She stilled.
“What?”

“Would
you like me to make you come? I could, in a matter of seconds. Or we could let
it build slowly and when you say the word, I’ll bring you to the sweetest
release you’ve ever experienced in your life.”

Being
that she’d only ever had orgasms with him, she didn’t find his statement hard
to believe. Even at her own hand she was never quite able to reach that point
of surrender when the mind disconnected from the body long enough to taste
total bliss.

His
hand left her ass and traveled up her forearm and around her bicep. His palm
smoothed over her skin chasing decadent chills over her flesh. Oh, to be
touched, she loved it. Fingers traced up the column of her throat and tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear. Like a cat, she pressed into his caress.

“Tell
me what you need,” he whispered.

“I
want…to be held. Tight.”

His
hand slipped to the back of her neck and pulled her down until her mouth met
his. He rolled her to her back, wrapped his arms under her waist, and thrust
into her. Somehow he withdrew almost completely without ever breaking the press
of his hard stomach to hers.

His
right arm banded around her middle, lifting her with each stroke, while his
other hand caressed her thigh. He dragged his touch up her side, over the
inside of her arm, petting back down to her breast. No one had ever been so
close to her.

His
mouth kissed her jaw and he nudged her chin with his nose. She tilted, allowing
him access to her throat, where his breath beat against her pulse. His arms
slid beneath her, lifting her, and traveled up between her shoulder blades.
Then he was hugging her, holding her, satisfying her, and she never wanted to
be let go.

“Jesus,
Becca. Being inside you is incredible. I never want to leave.”

“You
feel incredible too. It’s never been like this, never this good.” He rotated
his hips and touched on something amazing inside of her and she gasped.

“Do you
like that?”

Breathing
fast she said, “Oh, yes. That’s—” He did it again and she moaned. “Braydon!”
Again and again, he continued to rub himself deep at that same spot. Her cries
carried and collided as the deep pressure built and suddenly shattered.

Her
limbs quivered as her body tightened. Her heartbeat reverberated down to her
toes. She could feel her pulse everywhere, including where her sex gripped him.

“Mmmm,”
Braydon moaned, pressing his face into her shoulder. “Did you like that?”

Words
danced around in her mind, not a single one of them making sense. Her eyes
remained closed as she came back down to earth. His mouth found hers and placed
sweet kisses there.

“What
about you?” she finally asked, between staggered breaths.

“Not
until I’m sure you’re satisfied, angel.”

“Oh… I
think I passed satisfied an hour ago. Please, Braydon…”

He met
her gaze and pulled back only to thrust into her hard. By the second thrust he
was coming, his cock pulsing deep inside of her. His face was a work of art.
His jaw locked, every tendon in his neck taut as his lashes lowered.

His
forehead lowered to rest over her breast as he panted. Eventually, he mumbled,
“I’m not getting up until you give me your word you won’t move a muscle. I want
you here when I get back.”

She
couldn’t move if she tried. “I live here.”

“Still.
I’m not done with you.”

She
turned his face and kissed his beautiful mouth. “I promise, I’m not going
anywhere.”

When he
slid out of her, she was bereft. She gaped as he sauntered into her bathroom.
His body was lean and muscled, an amazing display of male exquisiteness.

He
returned a few minutes later and her face heated as he unabashedly gave her a
full view of his front. Wow. His abs glistened under
a sheen
of perspiration. A tiny dewdrop traveled slowly down the deep-set slope of his
hip. Dark golden curls nestled around his arousal, which hung heavy between his
strong thighs. She’d never seen a man built so well. As much as she was
enjoying the show, her hand twitched to cover her own body in the face of such
perfection.

He
lifted her and she wasn’t sure what he was doing until he drew back the covers
and climbed in beside her. The moment he pulled her body close to his and
covered her with his thigh, she sighed. She loved being held and Braydon
apparently had no issue holding her.

Chapter Six

Braydon
awoke to the scent of bacon. Turning in bed, he found the rumpled covers short
one beautiful Becca. As his ears adjusted to his surroundings, he picked up
traces of her voice, harmonically carrying up the stairs. Well, not
harmonically, but she
was
singing.

His
body stretched as he brushed the shadow of his jaw with his palm. She was making
him breakfast. Didn’t that just spell awesome? However, rolling into her
softness and greeting the morning with sex would have been nice too, but he was
a man of many appetites and knowing she was cooking for him touched him on a
personal level.

Jumping
out of bed, he went to her bathroom and washed up. He didn’t have anything
other than the clothes he came in, so he found his wrinkled slacks and slipped
into them.

As he
snuck downstairs her hummed words became clearer. She was singing the song
they’d danced to last night, but no music played in the background.

Creeping
into the kitchen, he took a moment to simply watch her bare legs sway and her
undulating hips move, as she stood in front of the stove, the rest of her
luscious body concealed by a long T-shirt.

He
stepped close and wrapped his arms around her from behind and she screamed.
Loud. He chuckled and placed a kiss at the side of her neck. “Good morning,
angel.”

“You
scared me.” She wiggled in his arms, but didn’t try to escape. “Breakfast will
be done in a few minutes. There’s coffee on the counter.”

He
sighed contently, needing a little Becca before he had his coffee. “Did you
sleep well?”

“I
slept like a rock.”

His
gaze went to the clock. It was just before eight. Once again he noticed the
many labels and signs tacked to the walls. Stepping back, he approached a chart
and looked at the pictures. Each laminated image was attached with a strip of
Velcro.

“That’s
for Hunter. It’s part of his plan.”

“Did
you make all these?” He detached a picture of hands being washed.

“They’re
PECS. It’s a picture exchange system. They’re pretty universal.”

“How
does it work?”

Becca
removed the last strip of bacon and placed it on a paper towel. “Well, in the
beginning he’d just have to touch the image of what he wanted.” She carried
over a board with a sort of menu on it. There were images of fruit, cereal,
beverages, sandwiches, and so on.

The
board was divided into quadrants. She pulled off a picture of milk and juice.
“I’d give him options and ask him if he wanted milk or juice.” As she did this,
she took his hand and touched it to each picture as she said what it was. “He’d
choose. As he got older he’d have to hand the card to me. The more he learned
the more I’d require of him. If he wanted the milk, he’d have to hand it to me
and make the
mmm
sound. Eventually, he learned to say the word.”

“They
should do that with all kids. It seems like a great way to teach speech.”

“You
have no idea what it’s like to have a non-vocal child. It’s frustrating for
everyone, but mostly for the child. Communication’s so important and I’m very
lucky Hunter speaks now. Sometimes he struggles to find his words,” she said
quietly as if to herself.

“Do you
ever wonder if they just have too much going on, too many words to choose from?”

She
smiled, but the expression seemed sad. “Their entire existence is sensory
overload. Sometimes they need the sensory, but sometimes it hurts. Many
children with autism don’t develop speech until after age three, but that
doesn’t necessarily affect their intelligence. Sometimes the world just isn’t
concrete enough for them. Albert Einstein didn’t talk until after he was three.
He was dyslexic, but nowadays he’d definitely be considered on the spectrum.”
She grinned. “He was a pretty smart guy.”

Braydon
eyes softened as he turned to her. “Yeah. He did all right.”

They
sat at the table and made up their plates of pancakes and bacon. He
contemplated the bruises he’d seen on her. Hunter was a child, but Becca was
small. His eyes caught on the broken chair tucked in the corner and the cracked
tile on the wall. “Did it cause a lot of trouble for you when I stopped by a
few weeks ago?”

Her
eyes moved as though she were thinking. “Actually, no. He isn’t used to
surprise visitors, but you weren’t here long enough to throw off his entire
day. We had a snack and then I gave him some down time to stim.”

He
didn’t want to use the wrong words and offend her. “That’s self-stimulating,
right?”

She
nodded as she took a bite. “Yeah. It’s important he not get carried away. I try
to limit it at the breakfast table and when he should be focused on a task. It
takes constant prompting and redirecting, but sometimes he needs to let off
steam. I usually give him at least an hour to get it all out. He’ll pace and
flap and jump and when he’s done he seems more centered.”

“Why do
they do it?”

She
shrugged. “Why do people fidget? I mean, sometimes he can’t help it, but if I
ever want to see him integrated into society on some level, he has to make an
effort to control it.”

“For
the sake of others?”

“Unfortunately,
yes. People judge what they don’t understand and there’s still a lot of
ignorance out there regarding autism. Hunter does a lot of flicking by his
eyes. That’s because his visual sensory’s a mess. Light overwhelms him. Where
we see a florescent light, he sees the steady stream of strobes coming from the
bulb. It’s distracting and annoying to him, sort of like what Chinese water
torture would be to us.”

“Does
he wear glasses?”

She
shook her head. “His vision seems to be fine, though it’s very difficult to get
an accurate reading with Hunter. It isn’t a vision problem with his eyes. It’s
a perception issue with his brain. All his sensory endings fire off so rapidly
you’ll see him flinch his eyes shut over and over again. He can’t help it.
There’s no way to shut it off.”

After
reading a lot about various children, his curiosity became centered on Becca’s.
“Is there medicine that helps?”

She
groaned. “The drugs out there are endless. The problem is, pharmaceutical
companies want to make money. What worked great in the nineties might be
generically available now, so they aren’t promoting it and doctors are
suggesting the next hot thing, which may be crap. No drug comes without side
effects. I’ve read so much on medication. Mostly, Hunter’s taken things for
anxiety, but I have to be very careful with his dosage. He’s only eight. But as
far as his sensory issues… No, there really isn’t much out there that’s worked
for him.”

“That
surprises me, with the numbers what they are.”

She
sipped her coffee. “Yeah. Maybe someone will invent something someday that
actually helps.” She laughed. “Whoever it is will probably be on the spectrum.
We wouldn’t have half the advancement we do today if it wasn’t for abstract
thinkers. Look at NASA. I bet those scientists are loaded with Asperger’s
tendencies. People see them for the innovators they are and suddenly their
social awkwardness becomes excusable.”

He
loved her way of thinking and she was probably right. He’d read about savants
and professors, artists, authors, and even Pulitzer Prize winners all touched
with ASD. “Maybe someday people will recognize the advantages as much as the
challenges.”

Such
passion showed in her eyes as she smiled. “For some reason, our society puts
too much emphasis on socialization and behavior. They’re more concerned with a
kid distracting others by flapping and shouting than they are with the actual
functions of the brain. I guarantee you, if they found a way to quiet autism
the research would decline, sadly. It’s incredibly frustrating, as a mother, to
have a son who can do things most ‘intelligent’ people can’t, yet get
castigated for not always walking in a straight line or sitting quietly.”

“Do
people make fun of him?” he asked quietly.

Her
expression was pained but accepting. “We’re taught to be compassionate. It’s
expected in this day and age. But parents don’t always teach their children
early enough. People stare. I ignore the looks and try not to hear the
comments, but sometimes it’s hard. At this point, Hunter isn’t really bothered
by other’s opinions, but over time that’ll change. Eventually he’ll know he’s
different and he won’t be able to choose to be the same like most adolescents.
He has feelings just like every boy. Maybe sheltering him isn’t the right thing
to do, but it protects him. We do go out, but probably not as often as we
should.”

“He
sounds like a sweet kid.”

Pride
sparked in her eyes. “He is. I cry a lot, but I also laugh. You have to when
this is your reality.”

They’d
finished eating and Becca looked tired from talking. “What would you like to do
today?”

She
seemed startled by the question. “I don’t know. I assumed you’d have things to
do.”

“I do.
I have a beautiful woman to entertain. I don’t think anyone’s done anything for
her in quite some time, so it’s really important that I get started on that.”

Her
cheeks flushed and she lowered her lashes. “You don’t have to—”

He took
her hand. “I want to. Tell me something you’d like to do. Something you haven’t
done in a long time.”

It
wasn’t a complicated question, but she seemed to really struggle with the
answer. “I miss…all of it.” Her shoulders slumped. “There’s so much I miss. I
miss grabbing a cup of coffee or a bite to eat simply because someone invites
me along. I miss peace and quiet, moving at a slow pace, having a chance to
breathe it all in. I miss…my health.”

Jesus.
It became imperative to improve her outlook, which, strangely, excited him and
made him fondly recall the simple things life often got in the way of. “Let’s
get dressed and go out. We’ll take a quiet walk, maybe see a movie, and when
that’s done, we’ll grab a bite to eat.”

Her
expression became contemplative. “It’s so strange not having him here. I have
this constant paranoia I’m forgetting something.”

“Maybe
this is good. Everyone needs a break from their day to day life now and then.”

“It
probably is, but it doesn’t feel that way. I know our custody arrangement’s
wearing on Hunter, all this switching back and forth. I just wish he could tell
me if it’s unpleasant or excruciating. I can’t seem to shut off the worry, even
when I know he’s with his dad.”

The
amount of stress she coped with on a minute-to-minute basis was immeasurable.
Her love for her child was apparent, her worry beyond that of a typical
parent’s concerns. A walk wasn’t the solution, but it was a start.

“Come
on. Let’s get dressed. I need to stop by my place to grab clothes and then
we’ll go have a relaxing day together.”

Becca
showered and he cleaned up from breakfast, lost in thought about what she’d
shared. When they reached his place he bathed and quickly threw on jeans and a T-shirt.
“What’s O’Malley’s pub?” she asked, reading his shirt.

“My family’s bar back home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Center County. About three hours east of here.”

“Do you miss it or do you prefer the city?”

Her curiosity triggered a sense of happiness inside of him.
He liked talking to her about the personal stuff most conversations grazed
over. It was…intimate. “I miss my family. I’d like to someday be able to run my
own company, bid out jobs and travel site to site, but I need to get a bit more
experience under my belt first. Relocating’s a definite possibility though.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but she quickly
covered it. “This Apricot deal should help your portfolio.”

“Definitely. I’m the frontrunner on the project. If all goes
well, I may be able to break away from Bradford Corp in a year or two.” Being
away from his relatives was torture.

“Will you go back to Center County?”

He shrugged, not wanting to add another check in the complication
column of their relationship. He wasn’t in a rush, but returning home was
definitely in the plan. “I guess it all depends on where I am at that point.
Hard to say.”

They drove to the park and Becca’s expression turned serene
the moment they set foot on the path. “This is nice.”

It was. Fleecy clouds coated the autumn sky, giving the
changing trees a picturesque backdrop. “Do you ever bring Hunter here?”

“Sometimes, but only when I have someone else with me. He
runs and I can’t always do it by myself. Most days we play in the yard because
it’s safe and contained. I never get to stroll like this. It’s
funny,
I almost forgot all the pretty sounds of nature. I’m
usually too distracted to pay attention.”

He slid his hand into hers and interlaced their fingers.
They walked in silence, pointing out various hidden glimpses of wildlife among
the clustered trees. Squirrels chased one another over fallen leaves. Birds
chirped and pecked in the saplings. It was a lovely day, but none of the
beautiful sights topped Becca’s expression.