Irreversible Damage (Irreparable 2)

Chapter 1

Brady

After lying in bed wide awake until three in morning, I finally give up on sleep. I opt instead for a run to burn off the mind-racing energy that controls me most nights. I’m kidding myself if I believe for even a second that Sheila killing herself somehow freed me from her “Mommy Dearest” psychotic ways. Dead Sheila haunts me far more than the living version ever did. Memories of her torment me. Like a vise on my thoughts, they grip tight and refuse to let go.

Coping with everything she put this family through is a constant plague. It looms over all of us like a dark cloud. When I discovered that she and Nate were not my real parents, it was difficult, and yet it explained the unreciprocated love I felt from them growing up. I never questioned it. I assumed I was defective. I believed I deserved their one-sided love for me. It became my normal.

A million questions constantly swirl around in my brain. The only person who can help me killed herself, taking the answers with her. I need those answers. On some subconscious level, I think that’s why Sheila decided to take her own life. The mere thought of sharing anything positive with me was more than she was ever willing to do, especially when it involved her sister Mona, my mother. Not only was she a coward, she was a spiteful bitch. My real mother died in childbirth. Her identity wasn’t as hard to accept as that of my father, Walter Gibson. The business mogul and owner of Gibson Capital was Sheila’s boss. When he died, he left his entire fortune to me. Sheila was forced to tell me the truth. Not because she wanted to. She needed my signature to continue to run the company.

Months after telling me the truth about my paternity, she confessed to murdering my ex-girlfriend Vanessa to cover up her years’ worth of lies.

It nearly broke me.

Worse though, was watching her take her own life in front of her children. Her final selfish decision was the one that devastated me. Our family will never be the same. You don’t recover from such cruelty.

Tori lost her innocence.

Liv and Tug lost their mom.

I lost my past.

Nate’s been an unexpected bright spot in all of this. It’s ironic how he feels more freedom in prison than he did in all his years of marriage. He’s more of a father now than he ever was. He writes frequently. His letters have filled in some of the gaps. He shares as many stories as he can remember about my mother. I think it’s out of guilt for the role he played in deceiving our family. I feel for him. He never had the courage to stand up to Sheila.

None of us did.

After my run, I stripped my sweaty clothes, and crawled in bed next to Tori. I’ve been watching her sleep. I still can’t believe she’s mine. As I stare at her soft pink lips, I listen to her shallow breaths and bask in her beauty. Not the perfection that lies on the surface, but rather the inner strength and love she shares unguarded and unconditionally. It’s a quality very few people have. Most of us struggle to look past the daily pressures of life and live happy. Her unbridled love broke down the walls I spent my life constructing. And I survived the fall. It’s as though each day is a dream. She’s the strongest person I know, completely selfless and dedicated to me, to Liv, and to our little girl, Mona, who will arrive soon.

She’s far more supportive than I deserve. When I told her I wanted to turn my father’s company over to Tug so I could start a band, and pursue a career in music, she told me to go for it. She didn’t remind me I’m only a few credits shy of a law degree. When I asked her how she felt about converting the garage into a studio, she found a contractor to do it. She’s never once made me feel like she has an expectation I need to live up to. Instead, she’s made me want to set my own expectations and charge on.

I often worry that I’ll wake up to the miserable, lonely existence I lived before Tori. But I don’t. She’s always here. I’m grateful for her every day of my life. Before Tori, I didn’t understand what it meant to love or to be loved in return. For a long time, I wasn’t sure if I could love her, or if I should. I fought it. Not anymore. Now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.

I’ll never leave her.

She and Mona are the two things in my life that are permanent and without question marks. They give me strength and purpose.

Tori knows me better than I know myself. When I’m anxious about my past or when I’m an arrogant ass, she stays. She listens to me ramble on with worries about what we’ll tell Mona, often for hours, without judging or interrupting. I know I need to stop stressing about what we’ll share with Mona when she eventually asks about her grandparents. It’s difficult. Tori and I are responsible for another human being’s outlook on the world. I don’t want to lie to my daughter, but the truth is not an option. I refuse to taint her. I tried seeing a therapist to work through all the crap whirling around in my head. He thought I was…what was the word he used?…projecting. I quit going. I know exactly what I’m doing. It’s the stopping myself that’s an issue. I certainly don’t need a shrink to tell me I’m fucked up. That much is obvious.

Tori’s sweet scent fills the room as a light wind flits in from the open window, causing her soft blonde hair to tickle my shoulder. I watch her for a minute, letting my mind wander to the first time I ever kissed her. The memory makes me smile like a lovesick fool. Man, she was pissed that night. The moment I backed her up against a wall in the pouring rain and took that kiss, I was a goner. If I hadn’t been such an idiot, I wouldn’t have stolen our first kiss. I would have recognized that she was more than willing to give it me.

I turn on my side to face her. It’s early, but I consider waking her. Not that she’d mind. Pregnancy hormones keep her hot for me. Hell if I’m going to complain.

She’s wearing a pink T-shirt with white lace panties. They look easy enough to remove. I lower myself down onto the bed. As I begin kissing a path up her inner thigh, I keep my eyes on her face. I bite down on her panties before slowly removing them with my teeth. She squirms under my touch but remains asleep. I love waking her up like this. The greediness she exudes each time I touch her turns me on beyond anything I’ve ever felt before.

Tori

I’m having that dream again, the one where I wake up mid-orgasm, panting and sweaty. I’ve been having it nightly. My doctor tells me it’s pregnancy hormones. Brady’s always in the dream. More than that, he’s happy to provide me with the real version when I wake up. In fact, he’s extremely grateful for my overactive pregnancy hormones. I wonder if once Mona arrives our sex life will be just as vigorous, or if it will die off when the pregnancy hormones do. Who am I kidding? This is Brady we’re talking about. Slowing Brady down when it comes to sex is like stopping a bull in the streets of Pamplona. Not happening and potentially as dangerous.

Soft lips trail kisses up

my inner thigh, leaving a stream of burning skin in their wake. I feel his hot, talented tongue caressing my intimate place. He circles with slow precision, causing my hips to buck. I jerk crazily. My legs tremble from hips to toes as I succumb to the mind-numbing pleasure. “Oh, God, yes!” My eyes pop open when I realize I’m not dreaming. I tilt my head down. Brady’s dark head rests between my thighs as his fingers dig into my hips. He pins them against the mattress while he laps at me slowly, waiting for me to come back down to earth. He looks up at me, flashing a delightful grin before lightly kissing up the length of my body. He stops when our foreheads touch, and smiles.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says breathlessly. His hips press into me, and I feel his arousal against my thigh. I assume he’s just come from his morning run, as he’s covered in sweat. His skin glistens, and he smells incredible. My eyes trail over his tattoos, each one of them attached to memories, both good and bad. They’re as beautiful as he is.

“Good morning yourself,” I answer, and run my fingers down the stubble on his cheek. “You’re playful this morning.”

“Not just this morning. In the afternoon. At night.” He tilts his head and smirks. “Middle of the night. I want you every second of every day for the rest of my life.”

I could do this forever with him. The unquenchable need fills me, too, a yearning so strong I know it’s pointless to fight it. I tried that once and failed miserably. “Well, that was quite a wakeup call.”

His subtle hum, smooth like velvet, caresses my skin. “You liked that, did you?”

“You know I did, Brady.”

He pulls on the bottom of my shirt. I lift up slightly while he slides it over my head and tosses it to the floor in one swoop. As I lay back down, his warm hands caress my breasts while his thumbs sweep over my taut nipples. Pregnancy has increased my breasts a couple of sizes. I hate them.

He moans in appreciation as he licks each nipple. “I like these.”

Obviously. I laugh, looking down at his smiling face. “Don’t get used to them. I don’t get to keep them.”

“Bummer.” He waggles his brows as he sits back on his heels between my thighs. “It’s okay — I like this, too.” His hand moves low. He rubs his fingers over my sex. Heat fills me to the brim as I squirm slightly under his touch, still sensitive from my orgasm. His hand circles my hip before sliding down my thigh and continuing to the back of my knee. A low groan leaves his mouth as he slides his hand down to my calf. He pulls my leg up against his chest. “Good.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “Because I’m not finished.”

My sex instantly starts throbbing as I anticipate what he’s about to do. He grabs my other leg and brings it to his warm body. Both of my legs rest against his hard chest as his cock nudges my slick opening. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His green eyes, dark and hooded, meet mine. I’m going to come, and he’s not even inside me yet.

“Do you want me to make love to you?”

“Brady,” I moan.

“Say it, Sunshine,” he says in a raspy demand. The tip of his cock barely presses into me, warm and teasing. “Say you want me to make love to you.”

“Oh, God, Brady…yes.”

“Say it!”

“Make love to me, Brady, please.” He starts to enter me and then stops. I squeeze my eyes shut as my hands fist the sheet into a ball.

“No…say you want me to make love to you.” I hear the laughter in his voice. I open my eyes to meet his playful expression.

“I want you to make love to me, Brady.” He enters me halfway and stops. “Brady…”

“You forgot to say please,” he teases before pushing into me and filling me completely. He stops and waits, a smug smile plastered on his gorgeous face.

Oh. He thinks he’s funny. Well, two can play at this game. “I changed my mind.”

I fail to get the words out with a straight face. The laughter coming from his chest rumbles against the back of my legs. He pulls out slowly and then slams into me again. “Oh, no…no take-backs, beautiful.”

My legs shake wildly as desire pools low in my belly. I’m hot and ready. He knows he’ll get what he wants. I love him too much…and need him too much…to deny him. Anytime I try to tell him “no,” my body betrays me. It always has. I sigh and bite my lip, breathing in deeply as I prepare to give in. “Please, Brady. I want you to make love to me.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “All you had to do was ask.” With the backs of my legs firm against his chest, he leans forward, bracing himself above me. He begins moving in the slow, tranquil rhythm he knows sends my body to the depths of oblivion. A place I’ve become quite familiar with, where I’m completely devoted to him, lost in a pleasurable trance of ecstasy and satisfaction.