Beautiful Broken Mess (14 page)

“Jace,” I cut him off, “what are you saying right now?”

“Go on a date with me, Audrey,” he responds without thought, and then quickly adds, “a real date. Just you and I. All the drama and bullshit set aside for now. Please.”

I shake my head back and forth. “No.”

His mouth drops open, obviously not expecting that answer. “You said you would talk to me. I need to know everything.”

I scoot backward off the bed and stand in the middle of my room with the sheet wrapped tightly under my arms, shielding my naked body. I begin pacing the length of my room from one end to the next. There is nothing I’ve ever wanted more than to go on an actual date with Jace. I’ve dreamt about this moment for years. But at the same time, how can he ask that of me when he still believes so many horrible things?

He climbs off my bed and the loud creaking and groaning of my futon makes him frown. I giggle at his frustration and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Your bed sucks,” he declares, while air quoting the word ‘bed’.

I shrug my shoulders, because I think it’s wonderful compared to the tiny loveseat I use to have to sleep on back home. His hands cup each side of my face, and then he moves them across my temples and over my hair, until they rest on the back of my neck. Completely surrounding me, he tilts my head back so I have nowhere else to look but up at him.

“I’m still so drawn to you. It’s like nothing has changed in the past four years. You still feel like a breath of fresh air compared to every girl I’ve met before. I kept telling myself it was a good thing we didn’t work out, that there was a reason for it. I kept telling myself there was someone better out there for you and for me,” he says, never breaking eye contact. My hands clutch the sheet tighter, wanting to reach out for his amazing bare chest that is only inches away and taunting me.

“But why, Audrey? How come even the smallest of things will make me think of you? How come whenever I catch a whiff of anything with a cherry-vanilla combination, I think of how your lips tasted that first day? How come anytime I have to write my phone number down, I recall sticking my fingers down your front pocket? How come every single long-legged brunette that walks by makes my stomach drop to the floor in hopes that it could be you?”

His words floor me. Literally. I should be lying on the hardwood under my feet and probably would be if his hands weren’t holding me up. “How can you say that and still think so lowly of me?” I whisper.

“Well, first of all, Lane told me that I should talk to you.”

Wrong answer.
Why are men so freaking dumb? I shove off of him and turn my back in frustration. That’s a whole other can of worms in itself, so instead of trying to address it, I redirect. “Why did you yell at me last night, after what I said to you?”

“Don’t change the subject, Aud-”

I interrupt him, “Why, Jace?”

With a sigh, he says, “Because you said that I got you out of my system.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Audrey, there aren’t enough nights in a lifetime to get you out of my system.”

I squeeze the sheet tighter to my body and pace the small area in front of him. “Then why did you say what you said after we… finished, that night in your car?” He gives me a confused look so I continue, “Do you know how shitty that made me feel?” He stares at me and doesn’t say a word. There’s complete silence for seconds, which soon turn into minutes. Suddenly, I notice that the wheels are turning. He was drunk and doesn’t remember, and now he’s trying to scan back through the night. “Oh my God, you don’t even remember! Do you even recall having sex with me?” my voice rises in mortification.

He reaches out and stills me by grabbing ahold of my arms and pulling me closer to him. My sheet drops to the floor, but I don’t even care. I couldn’t be more humiliated at the moment anyway. His eyes dip to my chest for a fraction of a second and he immediately looks up at the ceiling. After a few deep breaths, he slowly lowers his amazing blues to look in my eyes, although I can tell it’s a struggle for him to only look in my eyes. If I weren’t so angry, I would laugh at his effort.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That night, I was on such a high that I don’t remember whatever idiotic thing I said. I was drunk and I finally had you in my arms. And then I passed out so quickly afterward,” he pleads, and then tightens his grip on me to emphasize a point. “But don’t you dare think for one second that I don’t remember every single touch and feeling I had with you. I remember the way every inch of you felt under my fingers. I remember the way your skin tasted, and I sure as hell didn’t forget the way I fit inside you so damn perfectly. It literally makes me ache at the loss.”

JACE -

Just thinking about that night again is making me throb with need. She may have tried to kick my balls up into my stomach earlier, but that doesn’t mean I’m out of the game. Especially with her standing practically naked in front of me. I want her to know that this conversation is imperative to me, but my eyes are straining from the effort of trying to keep them on her face. Damn peripheral vision is fucking with me, because I can see her gorgeous tits so close to my chest and I just want to taste them.

“Tell me what I said… please,” I rasp out quietly.

She doesn’t speak, just continues staring at me with her hypnotizing eyes that could suck a guy in and make him hand over whatever she wanted without a second thought. When her bottom lip sticks out a fraction, I press my body up against hers and kiss her deeply. Never mistake me for a man that doesn’t strike when an opportunity arises. Her hands reach out to my chest and it feels as if she may push me away, but then she melts into me and her hands slide across my skin.

My fingers thread through her hair and I grip her scalp tightly as I walk her backward across the floor. When she bumps into the desk, I cup her from behind and lift her onto the edge of the smooth wood. Her little fingers run across my stomach and over my chest, all while her lips devour mine. I sit my ass down in the chair that’s situated in front of her, and thankfully I’m tall enough to still be at the same level as her lips. But sadly, her fingers can’t dance across my skin anymore.

I break the kiss and park my body in between her thighs, lifting one beautiful leg after another to rest each foot on the tops of my thighs. The view in front of me is fucking phenomenal. I want to consume her legs, since they are featured in about fifty-percent of my dreams about her. I imagine her legs in the air, wrapped around my waist, intertwined with my legs, and my favorite, draped around my face.

My lips begin to trace an invisible line that stretches from her ankles up to her inner thighs. She grabs onto my head and tugs my hair. I shake my head back and forth without removing my lips or even looking at her, “Hands on the desk, Audrey.” With a strangled moan, she immediately latches onto the desk. Audrey craves the surrender and I need the control; this is one of the many reasons why our bodies cry for one another.

I lift my eyelids and see that lust engulfs her. As my mouth lightly caresses the skin on her thighs, I watch short little breaths soar in and out of her lips, which form the shape of an ‘o’. Her fingers clamp down onto the edge of the desk and her knuckles are turning white, a sure sign that she’s barely containing herself. I smile against her soft skin at the tenacity of this woman.

Slowly my fingers catch up to my mouth and I rub across her sad excuse for panties. When she whimpers, I lift up so I’m eye-level with her and lick at the edges of her lips until she opens, and then cover her mouth with mine. Her body begins to rock against my fingers, so I slide the fabric over to feel how ready she is.

Groaning, I say, “God, I can’t wait to be inside of you. It’s been too damn long, but I remember
exactly
how you feel.”

Her eyes continue to watch mine as I thrust two fingers inside, causing her to arch her back into me. She lets out a long, uninhibited moan and I’m on fire. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have to keep this just about her at the moment. I’ll have my turn.

“Quiet,” I reprimand, stilling my fingers. “Lane doesn’t get to hear this, this is
mine
. Not a peep or I’ll stop.”
Yeah right, a fucking bulldozer couldn’t stop me now.

I watch as she bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from letting any sound slip through. My fingers begin their ministrations again and her heels dig into my thighs, so I flex my legs to give her something steady to push off of. Slowly, I take her higher and higher with the slow, rhythmic, in-and-out movements. Her back begins to arch toward me again and I cup one of her breasts in my hand. She fits perfectly.

Right as her legs begin to shake, there’s a loud bang on the opposite side of the door and she jumps an inch off the desktop. My fingers remain motionless inside of her, but my opposite hand holds her down so she doesn’t bail. I forget how jumpy she can be.

Lane hollers through the door, “Doll, we’ve got class, hurry it up!”
Cock-blocking bastard.

Her eyes are focused on the door and it’s obvious she’s lost her momentum, but my fingers aren’t about to give up. Fuck the class. Why would anyone want to be anywhere else right now?

“Look at me, gorgeous,” I direct softly.

Quickly, I stand and wrap my free hand around her head and tilt it up so I can completely surround all of her senses. The second her attention is back on me, I steal her lips with mine. The kiss becomes hungry and needy. I need more of her; I’ve always needed more of her. She quickly falls back into the moment as she grabs onto my shoulders, and it feels so damn good to have her nails in my back and her chest pressed up against mine. Skin-t0-skin is a magical fucking thing. It doesn’t take long to bring her to the brink again.

In the quiet of the room, she screams, “Jace!” and I feel her clutch my fingers harder and harder as her body crashes back down.

Through her heavy breathing, I kiss her lips softly. “I’ll let that one slide because how can I resist hearing you scream my name?”

She lets out a relieved sigh and I can’t hold back any longer. As I step back to rip my boxers off, she hops off the desk. My body naturally follows her path.

“Damn, I needed that. Thanks babe,” she swiftly offers without any emotion. Then she reaches down, scoops up a shirt off the ground, and throws it over her head. She digs clothes out of her dresser and pulls a brush off of her nightstand, all while I’m standing here shell-shocked.

What. The. Fuck?
Did I just get used?

My face must convey what I can’t find the words to say because as she reaches for the doorknob, she throws over her shoulder, “That’s what you said.” Then she retreats out into the hallway before I can ask any questions.

I slump down into the seat and try to replay the reel of what the hell just happened. What did any of that just mean? When realization hits, I smack myself in the forehead.
Jace, you stupid idiot
. That’s what I said to her after we had sex in my car last winter. How could I have done that to her? I thought
I
just felt used? What was she feeling when I barely said more than three sentences to her before I pulled her in the backseat and finished with a line like that?
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
.

I pull on my shirt and jeans quickly, then shove my feet into my shoes and run out of her bedroom. When I get into the living room, everything is silent. The dog is lounging on the couch, wagging his tail and looking like he’s about to take a mid-morning siesta already. Lane and Audrey are gone. My stomach begins to hurt, and I get a sinking feeling that I just messed up another chance for us.

- Eight -

AUDREY -

As Lane and I leave class and walk to our last one of the day, my feet are dragging and my stomach is rumbling. I’m feeling sluggish and light-headed. I didn’t have time to grab anything to eat this morning on our rush out the door. I barely had time to throw on my clothes while trying to escape Jace. We only have a ten-minute block between the two class periods, and I don’t have enough time to hunt down a vending machine. I still don’t know this campus very well, so I would more than likely end up lost.

“Lane, do you have any food in your bag?” I moan. He usually always carries some around with him wherever he goes.

“I ate it all in class, why?” he responds.

“I’m dragging. I don’t know how I’m going to stay awake in this class.”

“Well, guess you shouldn’t have been getting another taste,” he teases.

“There definitely won’t be anymore.”

“Riiight,” he says sarcastically.

We walk into our Accounting 582 class, Mergers and Acquisitions, which is bound to bore me to sleep. Unfortunately, a nap is unlikely in this small classroom, where professors are more likely to call me out than they were in the auditorium classrooms I’m used to. Despite this, the smaller rooms for the graduate programs are actually one thing I have learned to enjoy.

Lane and I have claimed two seats on the far left of the room, somewhat close to the front. By this time, everyone has already chosen the seats they will sit in for the semester, so I’m surprised when I see items that don’t belong to me on my desk. Although there’s no one in the seat, someone clearly left their to-go coffee cup and a bakery bag on my desk. It must be from a previous class. People are so rude sometimes. How hard is it to clean up your own mess?