Family Secrets (12 page)

NOW

With Elody all tucked up in bed and sound asleep, Brock and I enjoy a glass of wine together, snuggled on the couch.

As the alcohol warms my body, it eases the nerves I am feeling about the promise tonight holds.

“Have you had a nice evening?” Brock asks, his fingers stroking my arm, simultaneously soothing me and arousing me.

“The best,” I say honestly.

“Good.”  He takes my empty glass and sets it on the coffee table before standing and holding his hand out to me.  I place my palm in his and he leads me down the hall to my bedroom.

Once we reach my bathroom, he reaches down and begins to fill the tub.  Silently, while the running water is the only sound in the room, he tenderly rids me of my clothing.

“Climb in,” he whispers, shutting off the faucet.  His eyes trail down my naked body lazily, and rather than make me feel self-conscious, it empowers me and makes me feel confident.

I slide into the bath, loving the way the warm, soapy water soothes my aching muscles, sore from a long day of standing at work.

“Are you going to join me?”

“Of course.”  I watch, unable to look away, as he removes his clothing, exposing his body to me for the first time in six years.  He has changed so much in those years, yet a lot still remains the same.  He’s filled out, gained more muscle, but his skin is the still same tanned color.  Once he’s naked, I scoot forward and he climbs into the tub, sliding down behind me.  He extends his legs on either side of my body, and his arms go around my waist as he cages me against him.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs, his lips moving against my shoulder.

He squirts some gel into his hand and begins massaging it into my back and neck.  My muscles stretch out beneath his fingers and I moan in relief.

“That feels so good.”

“Your muscles are tight, Cassi.  You need to loosen up.”

“Mmm.”

Turning around, I begin soaping up Brock’s hard body.  The ridges of his abs ripple and contract under my fingertips.

His cock juts above the water and I can’t stop myself before I reach down and stroke it.  He hisses in a breath and clenches his teeth.  My thumb traces around the smooth, silky tip and then I fist his shaft again.

“Let’s climb out,” I suggest.

He gives me a short nod and we get out of the tub.  After drying ourselves off quickly, I take his hand and walk us into my bedroom.

He steals my lips in a passionate kiss that makes my knees go weak.

“Lie down on the bed.”

My knees hit the bed and I slide up on it, lying down on my back.  His eyes burn a trail of fire as he wanders lazily down my nakedness.  I squirm under his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he rasps.

“Touch me,” I beg.

“Open your legs.”

My legs spread of their own accord at his demand.

“Wet for me already, and I haven’t even touched you.”  He strokes a finger through my wet flesh.  My breath hitches in my throat as anticipation thrums in my veins.

Beginning at my knees, he places tender, wet kisses up the inside of my leg.  My core clenches with need.  Rather than licking me where I’m desperately craving him, he places a gentle kiss on my mound and continues travelling up my stomach.  His tongue swirls into my navel and then he’s pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking.  He slides a finger inside my sex and I moan, low and deep.  Shivers break out over my body and I shudder.

My back arches up off the bed and I cry out, loving the way he makes me feel.  He pays attention to each tightened bud equally before capturing my mouth again in a scorching kiss.

“Please.  I need you.”  My breath hitches over the words.

He slides on a condom and then I feel him at my entrance, probing me.  I open my legs wider, aching for him.

His mouth meets mine again and as his tongue slides inside, his cock enters me as well.  I moan down his throat, loving the way he fills me so completely.  My body stretches at the memory of him, accommodating his size effortlessly.

“You feel amazing,” he tells me.

“I love the way you make me feel,” I whisper back.

His nose rests on mine, his beautiful eyes communicating so much as he looks deep into my soul.  His hips begin to move, thrusting against my pelvis with a steady rhythm.  He grinds his body against mine, creating delicious friction against my swollen nub.  I feel my body coiling tighter and tighter, building toward an inevitable eruption of pleasure.  I see it coming and I reach for it, squeezing my eyes shut and throwing my head back, letting it consume me, overtake my body, and send me flying into the abyss.

My legs clamp around Brock’s waist and I cry out, sobbing his name, my voice unrecognizable with arousal.

“Brock!”

“God, yes, Cassi.  That’s it, baby.  Squeeze me hard.  You’re going to make me come inside this sweet pussy.”

His dirty words prolong my orgasm, sending ripple after ripple of desire through my tender sex.  He slams inside of me once, twice, three times, before he stills, dropping his head into my neck and groaning through his release.  Then he begins to slide in and out slowly, milking every last drop of his seed from his body.

“That was incredible,” I breathe.

“You’re amazing,” he counters, kissing my lips.

I whimper at his loss when he exits my body.  Tying off the condom, he disposes of it and reaches down for our disused towel.  Wiping my sex gently, he cleans me, and then climbs into bed beside me.  Pulling me into his arms, he holds me tight and kisses my forehead.

“Thank you for such a wonderful birthday,” I say, my eyes feeling heavy from tiredness, my body feeling incredibly relaxed and sated.

“You’re welcome.  Sleep, sweetheart.”

I do as I’m told, and fall fast asleep.

NOW

BROCK

As hard as I try to contain myself, it’s just not working.  I’m angry. 

No, I’m
fucking pissed.

I have never been so damn mad in my life, and if I don’t receive the answers I’m looking for today, then all hell is going to break loose.

My jaw is tight, aching, because I can’t relax enough to unclench my teeth.

“Son, what’s going on?” my dad asks as soon as I enter the room.  I called this meeting and I’m glad to see them both here on time.

Celia and my father are both seated at the table.  Rather than sitting down, I press my palms on the table and lean down, making sure to glare into Celia’s wary eyes.

“I need an explanation,” I grind out.

“What’s going on, Brock?”  My father sounds perplexed.

“Why don’t we let Celia do the explaining?  I want to know the truth about Cassidy leaving.”

“Brock,” she starts, attempting to cut me off.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn.  “Explain. 
Now,”
I growl.

“Brock,” my father says, gaining my attention.  My eyes cut to him and I give him a look that has him snapping his mouth closed.

“I don’t have to explain myself to anyone,” Celia snaps, standing.

“Sit down!” I thunder.

She immediately drops back into the chair. 

“If you’re not going to explain, then maybe I should.  Dad, did you know that Celia kicked Cassidy out all those years ago?  It wasn’t Cassidy’s choice to leave, seeing as she was pregnant with my child.  She needed all the family support she could get, but rather than provide her with that, Celia booted her out without a second glance.”

My father gapes, looking appalled and pale.

“I had a
child
I knew nothing about until a few months ago,” I continue.

“Celia, say it isn’t true?” my father begs.

“It was an atrocious situation,” Celia spits, venom coating her every word.  “What would everyone think?  Having an inbred child like that in the house.  Imagine the shame it would bring to this family.  It was Cassidy’s choice to keep
it
,” she snarls that word, like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and I want nothing more than to rip her throat out.

“I was only ever thinking about the future of our family, and protecting our home and lifestyle.”

“So you ousted your own child to protect our assets,” I state, disgusted.

“Someone had to.  We’d lose everything if that information got leaked.  Could you imagine what our friends would say?  We would never be invited to a social engagement again.  If you could have just kept it in your pants, this would never have happened.  Instead of attacking me, you should be thanking me for cleaning up your mess.”  She crosses her arms over her chest defensively.

“You kicked Cassidy out of our home when she was pregnant?” my father questions.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing, Charles.”

“I have never heard something so deplorable in my life, Celia.  Cassidy was a child.  She needed our support.”

“She was old enough to spread her legs,” Celia snarls.

“She was a child!” my father roars, standing.

“She was a slut, impregnated with an inbred that would have ruined everything,” Celia shrieks, losing her composure.

“Watch your mouth,” I rumble, leaning in to her.  She visibly pales and shrinks into her seat.

“Charles, he shouldn’t be speaking to me in that manner,” she shirks. 

“I am disgusted,” my father states.

Celia gives a victorious smirk, believing she has won.

“I am utterly appalled that you would behave in such a manner as to throw your own flesh and blood out of the family home, just because it may result in your social life altering,” dad says, speaking low.

“Charles,” Celia attempts.

“Get out of my house now,” dad says quietly.

My eyebrows climb up. 
I didn’t expect that
.

“You can’t be serious?” Celia cries.

“Deadly.”

“Charles, think about what you’re doing,” she begs.

“Get your things and get out.”

She huffs.  Straightening her blouse to gather herself, she says, “I refuse to be associated with such revolting behavior.”  Then she leaves.  “And you,” she directs her murderous gaze to my father, “should be ashamed of yourself for condoning such filth.”

The house is quiet, save for the clicking of Celia’s heels as she gathers her things.  A few minutes later, the front closes with a soft
thunk
.  Her car starts and then we hear the sound of it driving away.

My father sighs.  “I’m sorry you were witness to that,” he apologizes, looking remorseful.

I take a seat across from him.

He scrubs his hands across his face, suddenly appearing older than his years.  A few moments pass while he is lost in his thoughts.  I stay silent, letting him have his time.

“I have a grandchild?”

I nod, confirming.  “Yes.  A granddaughter, to be exact.  Her name is Elody.  She’s five.”

“Elody?  That’s a beautiful name.  And Cassidy, how is she?”

“She’s doing well.  She’s a midwife.  She and Elody have a lovely home and they’re both very happy.”

“Excellent,” he says, smiling.

I decide to fill him in on everything, so I explain briefly how Cassidy and I reconnected, and how I came to be aware of Elody’s existence. 

When I’m done explaining, he holds his hand across the table to me.  I put my palm in his and we shake.

“Congratulations are in order then,” he says, smiling.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Do you think Cassidy would let me meet Elody?  Not right away, but sometime in the near future?”

“I can’t make any promises, but I will speak with her about it.”

“Thanks, son.”

I stand to leave.  “I best be heading off.”

“Of course.  Stop by again soon.”

“Will do, dad.  Is there anything you’d like me to do about Celia?”

“No, I’ll have my lawyers handle everything.”

I nod, knowing he means divorce.

“I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t be, son.”  He actually looks relieved. 

Two years later

“It will be you in here soon,” Marissa, my colleague jokes.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Are you excited?”

“Yes.  I’m also scared, nervous, happy…I’m not sure which emotion is strongest.”  I laugh.

“You’ll be fine.  We’ll take care of you.”  She rubs my swollen belly.

“Please, you’ve got to help me.  My wife’s in labor,” a man says, clearly distraught.

Marissa and I both exit the nurses’ station and find a woman leaning over a railing in the corridor.

I immediately get her a wheelchair and get her situated before pushing her into a private room.

“What’s your wife’s name?” I ask the man.

“Nina O’Malley,” he replies, not taking his eyes off his wife.

“Okay, you’re going to be fine, Nina.  Let’s check and see how far dilated you are.”  I check her over and discover she’s already ten centimeters dilated.

“I’ve got to push,” she screams.

Marissa and I both gather the supplies we need and then tell Nina to start pushing.

Fifteen minutes later, I hand her a beautiful, healthy baby boy, knowing in a few short months, I’ll be cradling my own bundle of joy.

Four months ago, Brock and I found out we were expecting our second child.  Elody, who just turned seven, is ecstatic about being a big sister.  She is hoping for a baby brother to spoil.

After my shift is over, I pick up Elody from after-school care and drive home.  I’m glad my maternity leave starts soon.  Brock would prefer me to be a stay-at-home mom, but I love my job.  I will be taking a year off starting next month, though.  I’m excited to be able to spend quality time at home with my growing little family.

“Are we going to visit Grandpa tomorrow?” Elody asks on our drive home.

“We sure are.”  Once Brock had explained the situation with his father, and we found out Charles had filed for divorce from my mother, I was more than happy to have him involved in Elody’s life.  He’s a fantastic grandfather and thoroughly dotes on her, which of course, she adores. 

I haven’t heard a word from my mother since I left home, but Charles did hear through his lawyer that she remarried just three weeks after the ink was dry on their divorce papers.

Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, we have decided to spend the afternoon with Charles.

“Will Aunty Madeline be there?” Elody asks.

“Of course.”  She just loves her Aunty Madeline.  I have really enjoyed spending time with her as well, since we reconnected.  She and her husband, Will, not long ago had a baby – a little boy named Thomas.  Madeline works as a special education teacher at a private school not far from us.

Once we’re home, I get started on dinner, put a load of washing on, and tidy up.

“Something smells good,” Brock says, winding his arms around my waist and rubbing my belly.

“Meatloaf,” I say through a contented smile, leaning my head back on his shoulder.

“Did you have a good day, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.  Busy, though.  My feet are killing me.”

“I’ll rub them later.  Where’s Elody?”

“In her room, playing.”

“I’ll go check her.”  He kisses my shoulder and then my lips before going to our daughter while I finish with dinner.

*~*

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I say with a smile before kissing Charles on the cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Cassi,” he greets warmly.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Grandpa,” Elody cheers.  I leave them to hug each other and take the bags and tray I am carrying through the house and into the kitchen.  Setting it down, I smile and greet Estelle.

“Good to see you, Miss Cassi.  Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Same to you, Estelle.  I made pumpkin pie and pecan pie.”

“Sounds delicious.  I’ll take care of this, you go out with the family.”  She shoos me from the kitchen, laughing. 

I find Brock sitting with his dad on the back patio.  Elody is on her grandpa’s knee and they are chatting amongst themselves.  I take a seat next to Brock and he immediately claims me by placing a protective arm around me and tugging me closer.  I rest my hand on his leg and join the conversation, loving the contented, relaxed vibe circulating on this beautiful day. 

“Hi, everyone.” Madeline smiles as she takes a seat. Her husband Will is behind her, pushing their son in his stroller.

“Hi, happy Thanksgiving.”  I stand, hugging her.  “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! So do you.  Happy Thanksgiving.”

Madeline has hardly changed at all.  She is still as beautiful as ever, with her wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes.  She is effortless class. 

“Let me cuddle that handsome little man,” I say, lifting Thomas from his stroller.  “Oh, you’re such a sweet boy,” I coo, kissing his soft little head.

Elody comes over and rubs the baby’s back.  “He’s cute, Momma.”

“He is,” I agree.

“You’ll have your own baby soon,” Madeline says, grinning.

“I hope I get a brother, just like Thomas,” Elody says.

We spend the rest of the day eating, laughing, and chatting.  One thing I know for sure is I certainly have a lot to be thankful for.

*~*

Bending down, I take a bauble from the container and place it on the tree.  My back is aching from the weight of my stomach, and my ankles are swollen.  All I want to do is sit down, but Christmas is fast approaching and there is no rest for the wicked.

“Daddy, come place the star on top,” Elody says once we’ve finished decorating.  Brock comes inside from where he was stringing lights around the front of the house, and kisses my forehead.

Taking the star from Elody, he reaches to the top of the tree, positioning it just right.  I look over to Elody and see her beaming with pride.  It means so much to her to have a daddy who can put the star on the tree. 
It’s the little things.

Two weeks later, Elody wakes at the butt-crack of dawn and informs us Santa has been here.  Brock and I drag ourselves out of bed and plod down the hall and into the living room where the base of the tree is filled with all kinds of gifts.  I snap some photos as Elody opens her presents, gasping and cheering, oohing and ahhing at each new addition.  Barbies and books, DVDs and clothes, and toy ponies and puzzles litter the floor along with discarded wrapping paper by the time she is done.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Brock murmurs, kissing me soundly.

“Merry Christmas to you.”  I grin.

He hands me a small wrapped box and waits patiently for me to open it.

I peel back the Christmas themed paper to reveal a black box inscribed with gold writing.  Taking the lid of the box, I see a gorgeous gold bracelet inside.  I lift it out and look at it closely.  The chain is so fine and dainty.  It is absolutely gorgeous.  I palm the pendant and look to Brock in confusion.

“A number three?” I question, my brow furrowing.

“I was contestant number three,” he explains.  “Thank god you chose me.”

“Oh my!  You’re too sweet,” I gush.  “Thank you so much, honey.  I love it.”

“I love you,” he says, placing his lips on mine.  My heart flutters in my chest, and I kiss him back with every ounce of passion and soul-consuming emotion I feel for him.

“I love you, too,” I reply as he pulls back.

*~*

He crowds me, pushing me against the wall using only the aura surrounding him.  He still hasn’t touched my body, and I’m aching for him, trembling with want. 

“Tell me you want me, Cassi.”  His voice is husky, thick with desire.

“No.”

He smirks, as if expecting my rebuff.  “Liar.”  Then his lips are on mine, his tongue expertly sliding into my mouth and owning me with one simple yet powerful touch.  He claims me, owning my body like he always has.

He pulls back when we’re both panting.

“Tell me you want me,” he repeats.

“I want you,” I reply.  “You own me.  You always have.”

“Turn on your knees, baby.”

I climb onto the bed, sticking my ass in the air toward him.  Watching over my shoulder, I gasp when he dips his head down and then his tongue makes contact with my wet flesh.  I cry out, my head falling forward as his mouth continues his delicious assault.

“Please, Brock.  I need you.”

“Come on my face first,” he growls, the vibrations from his tone sending shock waves through my sex.  He latches on to my clit, sucking and biting gently.  My body coils, tightening beyond belief, and I reach for my release, crying out as the pleasure overtakes my senses.

Before I have even finished shuddering through my orgasm, Brock is kneeling between my legs.  He positions his cock and slams inside, my pussy still fluttering.  He groans and begins thrusting with wild abandon.

My arms stretch out in front of me, my hands gripping the sheets tightly as my head falls forward and the sheets muffle my intense moaning.  Brock palms my ass, squeezing my flesh and gripping my hips to give himself leverage.

“Sweetest fucking pussy in the world,” he mutters.  “And it’s mine.”

“Yes,” I agree wholeheartedly.

“This ass is mine,” he says, squeezing my behind.

“Yes. Yours,” I breathe. 

“Tell me how much you love my cock,” he demands.

“I love it,” I groan.  “Oh god, I love it.  It fills me up and fits me just perfectly.  It feels so good,” I end with a moan.

“That’s right, baby,” he growls.

“I’m going to come,” I cry.

He slams inside of me harder.  “Come, Cassi,” he barks, and at his commanding tone, I shatter into a million pieces.  He follows me immediately, slowing his thrusts to a glide as he pulses deep inside me.

He kisses my neck, softly sucking on the tender skin there.  A whimper escapes my lips at the loss of him.  Completely naked, he walks into the bathroom and returns moments later with a towel, and then he wipes me clean.  I crawl up the bed and maneuver myself under the covers where he joins me moments later.  Sliding in behind me, he spoons me, wrapping his arms protectively around my body.

“Sleep, beautiful,” he murmurs.

“’Night.”

Two hours later, my eyes spring open as a pain tightens across my stomach.

Climbing out of bed, I waddle into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet.  Just as I do, a big gush of liquid spills into the bowl and another contraction ripples through my abdomen.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself.

I clean myself up and then walk out into the bedroom to Brock.  He is sound asleep in bed, snoring in an adorable way.  I place my hands on his shoulders and give him a shake.

“Babe,” I whisper urgently.

He snores again and rolls over.  Using a bit more force, I shake him again.

“Brock!  Babe, wake up,” I say, just above a whisper.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice sleepy.

“Wake up, I’m in labor.”

“Shit.”  He springs up out of bed and looks me over, his eyes darting up and down my body.  “What do we do?”

“It’s okay, the contractions aren’t that close together yet.  Let’s just get my bag and call Renee to let her know what’s happening.  We’ll drop Elody off there on the way to the hospital.”

“Let’s go then.”

“Babe, you need to put clothes on first,” I say through a wry grin.

“Oh…yeah,” he mutters, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  I tug on a pair of sweat pants and a loose sweater before grabbing my hospital bag from the corner of the room.

Brock lifts Elody out of bed and carries her outside, while I pick up her overnight bag from her closet.  I lock up and meet them at the car, stopping once on the way because a contraction steals my breath.

Brock rushes over to help me and ends up sweeping me into his arms and carrying me to the car.

“I can walk, you know,” I say through a laugh.

“I know.”

Once I’m settled in the car, I turn to check on Elody and see she is still sound asleep.  I dial Renee’s number and wait for her to pick up as Brock is reversing down the drive.

“’Ello?” she answers, her voice thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Cassi.  I’m in labor, so we’re on our way to the hospital.  Is it still okay to drop Elody off?”

“Of course,” she says, sounding immediately alert.  “I’ll be waiting.  See you soon.”

We click off and Brock speeds toward Renee’s.

Twenty minutes later Brock is carrying me into the hospital despite my protests that I can walk.

He sets me down at the nurses’ station and Marissa, my colleague, smiles.

“Baby time?” she grins.

“Yep,” I grit, clenching my jaw as another contraction hits me.