Chapter Five
The house was quiet when Callie woke the next morning. She dressed and headed toward the kitchen then poured herself some coffee. Flipping on the radio, she heard the melancholy tune from a country and western station. It suited her mood. She’d just taken her first sip of the reviving brew when Brad came through the door.
“Morning, lazybones,” he teased.
She returned his greeting yet didn’t feel nearly as cheerful as he appeared.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re not usually so glum. Bad night?”
“A couple of them,” she explained. “I’m not getting much sleep.”
“Too much sex or too little?” he asked, reaching out a hand to draw her from her chair. He put his arms around her and hugged her close. “Is that big brother of mine causing you a lot of heartache again?”
“That he is,” she whispered. She slid her arms around Brad’s waist and returned his hug. It felt good to have someone to talk to and hold. “I love him so much. I know he feels something for me but he’s too stubborn to let go of the anger.”
“Maybe it’s time we told him the whole truth,” he suggested softly.
She tipped back her head and stared at him in surprise. “You can’t mean that.”
“It’s way past time, Callie. I can’t live the lie any longer and neither should you.”
“Oh, Brad, please don’t make any decisions based on my needs.”
They were so deeply engrossed in each other that they didn’t hear the back door open and close again. What they heard was Rylan’s furious voice.
“You always seem to be ready to console my woman, little brother. Are you hoping she’ll go to bed with you every time she’s pissed with me?”
Callie didn’t even realize she had tears running down her face until Brad gently brushed them away. “You’re way off base, big brother, and you owe Callie an apology. If you’d given us half a chance we’d have explained our relationship years ago.”
“Seeing is believing,” snapped Rylan. “I trust what I see.”
“What you saw four years ago was a woman on the rebound and a man who was doubting his own sexuality. Callie agreed to go to bed with me to see if I could respond to her sexually. I couldn’t and we didn’t. I realized that I’m gay. I fought it for a few years but finally realized that it’s who I am. I love her like a brother. There’s never been anything sexual between us.”
Rylan didn’t seem overly surprised by the declaration his brother had dreaded for so many years. Callie wondered if he’d suspected for a while. He seemed almost relieved to have it out in the open and his gaze settled on her.
“Your sexual preferences only concern me in regard to the woman I love,” he told his brother.
The tension drained from Brad’s body but stiffened hers. She caught her breath at the words and the tight emotion she saw in Rylan’s expression.
“Would that be me?” she asked quietly.
“Damn straight.”
“You haven’t said it for a long time.”
“You don’t make it easy.”
Callie arched a brow. Neither of them noticed when Brad released her and left the room. “How much more receptive can I possibly be? I’ve let you have your way with me since the minute I came back to the ranch.” Her voice rose in agitation.
“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about you and how much I love you. Of dreams about a future. I’ve always thought the cost might be too high.”
Still confused, she asked, “What cost?”
“My heart and soul.”
Callie’s breath caught in her throat then surged out in a rush of emotion. “Oh, Rylan, you’ve had mine for so long. Why couldn’t you have some faith in our love?”
His next words expressed the depth of his vulnerability. “I never really believed I could hold you. I knew it would destroy me when you left and I didn’t have the courage to risk it.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I love you too. I want to grow old with you. Whatever made you think I’d want to leave?”
A rough laugh erupted from his chest and he stared blankly at a spot beyond her shoulder. The words seemed torn from deep within him.
“You’re used to the best of everything and a whole different lifestyle than I can give you. You’ve got a Master’s degree, for god’s sake. I didn’t even earn my GED until I was twenty-one.”
“You were a little busy,” she quickly defended. “You put your dreams on hold for your family. Just the thought of what you’ve sacrificed makes me feel shallow and unworthy.”
That took him by surprise and he brought his gaze back to her. “I didn’t do anything any other man wouldn’t have done.”
The remark brought a thready, almost hysterical laugh from Callie. “You’re totally naïve if you believe that,” she said. “Do you know how many women would give all their worldly possessions for a man like you? One they can trust with their life and the lives of their children? One who’s dependable, honorable and hard-working?”
Rylan frowned and shrugged off the compliments. “Average and boring.”
Callie suddenly realized that his self-respect needed some boosting. She’d always assumed his arrogance was the result of too healthy an ego. Now she wondered if it might mask too little self-esteem. Silently vowing to make it all better in time, she smiled into his handsome face, her eyes shining.
“Well you do have some other, pretty exciting physical attributes to offer,” she teased lightly.
Rylan’s eyes lit with interest. He slid both his hands to her hips and tugged her closer. “You think?”
“Oh yeah!”
He couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on her bowed lips. It was just a light butterfly kiss, but it sparked an avalanche of need. He was suddenly fiercely impatient for more of her sweetness. He wanted her all to himself, as close as two people could be.
“How ‘bout we go to my room and talk about attributes?”
The sexy invitation sent a ripple of excitement throughout her body. “Not unless you’re prepared to ask me to marry you,” she challenged.
Rylan’s eyes darkened and fastened on hers. He dropped another, even more tender kiss on her smiling lips. “I love you. Will you marry me?”
“Are you sure this time?”
“I don’t know.” He gave her another kiss and another, each longer and deeper. “How much do you love me?”
“More than I thought it was possible to love.”
“That pretty well sums up how I feel too,” said Rylan. Then he was sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.
Epilogue
Six weeks later Rylan carried Callie across the threshold of their honeymoon cabin. The Karner house had been remodeled to make an office for her wildlife sanctuary and a private apartment for the newlyweds.
They’d decided to wait until Molly was fully recovered and home again before marrying. The delay had made them both impatient but the time had been filled with a dizzying amount of work and planning.
Callie’s dad was in better health than he’d been in years so he and her mother had come to Wyoming to help plan the wedding. Now they were shopping for a retirement home within easy driving distance of the Masterson ranch.
Rylan and Callie had decided to continue living at the homestead but this was their own little hideaway. After weeks of hustle, bustle and making-do with rare stolen moments of privacy they were ecstatic to finally be alone.
He kicked the door closed behind them and slowly eased her down the length of him. As always the friction of body against body sent sparks shooting through both of them. She kept her arms locked around his neck and stood on tiptoe to give him a long, deep kiss. They drank thirstily of each other, tongues dancing a duet until they were forced the catch their breath.
“I love you, Rylan Masterson,” she murmured against his lips.
“I love you more, Callie Masterson.”
A wondrous smile lit her face. “Callie Masterson. I’ve always loved the sound of it. When I spent all those years in classrooms, I’d find myself doodling a lot. I kept writing that name over and over. Callie Masterson. Mrs. Rylan Masterson.”
A shudder racked his body. It amazed him that Callie could love him as much as he loved her. That she could have missed him so much all those years they were apart. He still had panic attacks about being a worthy husband but he’d vowed to keep her safe and happy. He intended to honor that vow until death.
“And what would you like to do on our wedding night, Mrs. Rylan Masterson? Your wish is my command,” he said as he slowly backed her across the living room toward the sofa.
“Mmm… Let me think.” She pretended to give the question serious thought. Her eyes were wide and beguiling. “How about making love all night?”
Rylan’s answering grin held a wealth of emotion. “I like the way you think.” He eased her onto the sofa, kissing her all the way down.
Then he straightened and gently untangled himself from her grip. She pouted beautifully and his pulse raced. It was a wrench to leave her long enough to move to the fireplace and strike a match to the kindling.
“We might need some heat and light,” he suggested, coaxing the flames into a fire.
Callie took a moment to glance around the cozy room. There wasn’t much furniture, just a sofa, a couple chairs and some throw rugs. But it was perfect, especially in the evening shadows and firelight.
She’d grown to love this house too. “I think I need to thank my realtor again for helping me find this place.”
“The first rule for a new wife is to not talk about any other man on your wedding night,” Rylan admonished, taking a few steps back toward the sofa.
Callie kicked off her heels and stretched out. Propping her elbow on the sofa and her head on her hand, she gazed at him with feigned innocence.
“Is that right?”
“It’s one of Masterson’s rules,” he insisted, slowly toeing off one boot and then the other.
“I assume there are more.”
“The second is to have eyes only for your man,” he declared as he held her gaze and began to unbutton his shirt in a slow, deliberate striptease.
She watched, her pulse skittering wildly as he shed his clothes one article at a time. First he bared his broad chest and flat stomach. Then each long, muscled leg. By the time he was totally naked her heart was pounding erratically.
“Is it a rule for husbands to be so utterly gorgeous?” she asked in breathless wonder. She never got tired of looking at him. He was all male and the sight of his bold arousal made her giddy with excitement. The longer she stared at his cock the more swollen it became as it pulsed with a life of its own.
His voice was thick with arousal too. “Nope. The husband only has two wedding night rules.”
As he moved closer Callie reached out and traced a finger down one hair-covered thigh. She loved the way his muscles rippled at her lightest touch.
“What are your rules for the night?” she asked, glancing up at him through her lashes.
He knelt beside her and cupped her cheek in his big hand. Then he guided her mouth to his for a slow, thorough kiss that left them both trembling with hunger.
“The husband’s rules are to keep his wife naked and satisfied.” His tone was gruff with need.
“Ooohhh…” Her voice went sultry as she circled his cock with her hand and stroked the smooth, hard flesh. He groaned and reached for the tiny pearl buttons on the bodice of her wedding gown.
“I think I like these Masterson rules,” she said as he bared her breasts and his mouth latched onto one of her nipples. He sucked deeply, first one and then the other as he slowly removed the rest of her clothes. Then his hot mouth made a downward foray across her stomach. He grasped her thighs and spread them, stabbing her clit with his tongue before dipping two fingers into her weeping pussy. He drove her higher and higher until she shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Rylan!” she screamed in the throes of her first orgasm, legs stiffening and toes curling. He drove her wild yet she wanted more. Panting, she pleaded, “I want you in me!”
“Beg, slave,” he tormented as he pressed hot kisses across her stomach again. His fingers never stopped their plunging and plucking. His mouth roamed restlessly, convulsively, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Fuck me.” She knew he loved to hear the words. “Pretty, pretty please,” she coaxed breathlessly, reaching for his cock again. She rubbed her thumb across the head and felt the sticky moisture. Smiling, she knew he wouldn’t be waiting much longer to bury himself in her. He liked to call her his slave but it worked both ways for them.
The satisfaction process took the rest of their honeymoon. The loving process would last a lifetime.
Brandi Michaels is a lifelong daydreamer who started creating romances at a very early age. She feels blessed to have been able to share those daydreams with thousands of readers around the world. A lover of books, music and babies of any species, she also feels blessed by a life filled with love, laughter and a passion for writing.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.