Breaking

Breaking isn't a retelling of the
story of Escorted. I know those retellings are popular and many readers wanted
to see that, but there really wasn't any more of that story I could tell. This
is a new story that's set a few months after the last scene of Escorted.

Because I have this compulsion
to be as psychologically realistic as I can, both Ander and Lori are still
dealing with the issues that plagued them in Escorted. They are, however,
getting better at working through them together, which is why this story can
span just three days (rather than the two and a half years of Escorted!).
Anyway, I wanted to add the note in the hopes everyone won't be disappointed
that it's not a retelling of Escorted or a total Ander love-fest. Even with his
continued issues, I hope there’s still enough of him here to love!

Ander sat on the edge of the bed
for more than a minute, watching Lori sleep.

He’d just
gotten back in town, and she wasn’t expecting him for another week. He’d left
the archeological dig on Santorini early.

He could
usually lose himself in work. At times, he stayed so long at the
university—completely wrapped up in reading, research, or writing—that Lori had
to come find him and drag him home. He’d been looking forward to this trip for
a long time, since it was grant-funded research that was necessary to write his
dissertation.

But work hadn’t
been enough this time. Every moment he’d spent of the last two days had been
brutal, painful, torture. So finally he’d just given up and flown back to
Seattle.

Back to Lori.

It was after
one in the morning, and she was sound asleep.

She didn’t like
to sleep in pitch darkness, so a sliver of light from the bathroom illuminated
the bedroom enough for him to see.

Her dark hair
spread out messily on the pillow around her face. Her eyelashes were dark
too—thick against her smooth skin. Her lips were slightly parted, the sensual
curve matching the line of her neck as her head turned to the side.

She must have
gotten warm because the covers were pushed down low. A strip of bare skin was
visible between her white tank top and her lavender cotton pajama pants.

His eyes rested
on the soft swell her breasts, clearly visible through the thin fabric. He
could see the outline of her nipples. He wanted to touch them.

He wanted her.
In so many ways.

He needed her.
Tonight more than ever.

He loved her.
But didn’t always know how.

For so many
years, he’d turned himself into nothing but a body, hiding his real self away
from the world. He’d put on an attractive persona like a mask. He’d flattered
and enticed and seduced until women were putty in his hands. Then he’d touched
and kissed and fucked them until they felt more pleasure than they’d known was
possible.

No one else had
made their bodies feel as good as he had.

He’d given them
what they wanted because he could never get what
he
wanted.

Lori was sound
asleep, completely unconscious of him. Completely vulnerable. He could do
anything he wanted to her.

He would never
hurt her, and he would decimate anyone who tried. But he needed something
tonight that he couldn’t wrap his mind around yet.

He’d always
been damaged, and love could only do so much.

He’d been
damaged again two days ago, and he was barely holding himself together.

Right now, he
was on the verge of breaking completely, and he couldn’t let that happen.

So he’d come
home. Come to their bedroom, come to their bed, to find whatever power and
solace he could in Lori.

He reached out
to gently brush his fingers over her warm cheek. Then her forehead, her lips,
her jaw line. He pushed a few strands of hair back from her face.

Then he noticed
the bare skin between her tank top and pajama pants. Couldn’t resist it. Reached
out to caress her smooth belly. Felt it rise and fall with her steady
breathing.

His hand never
stopped moving and somehow slid up to the full curve of her breasts. He fondled
one delicately until the nipple peaked, and Lori released a low groan in her
sleep.

When he
realized what he was doing, he pulled his hand away immediately.

One strap of
her tank top had slipped down over her shoulder, and he had an overwhelming
urge to rip the strap apart at the seam.

He wanted her
to feel him, to know him, to be completely surrounded by his force, his power,
his love.

He wanted to
not be broken anymore.

Lori stirred and
finally opened her eyes.

Blinking a few
times, she said hoarsely, “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing there?”

Her first
response must have been instinctive because then the situation processed in her
mind. She sat up straight in bed and hurled herself at him in a hug. “Ander!
What are you doing here?”

“I came back
early,” he murmured, wrapping both arms around her.

He’d never been
hugged in his life until Lori, and now he had to resist the urge to pull away.
Emotion shuddered in his chest and his throat at her naked affection for him,
threatening to tear him apart.

She drew back
before it did.

She beamed as
she studied his face, but she must have seen something of his mood there
because her smile faded. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. We
were wrapping up anyway, so I came back. I missed you.”

“I missed you
too. I’m so glad you’re home.”

Unable to
resist any longer, he took her head in his hands and kissed her.

It became
urgent very quickly, his tongue going deep, his hands sliding down to cup her ass.

When the kiss
broke, he lowered his head to her neck, mouthing the pulse in her throat until
his teeth grazed her skin.

His cock
twitched when she gasped in response.

“I guess that
means you’re horny,” she said, her voice dry and controlled, although he knew
her body was responding to him.

“I think we can
find a less objectionable word for my condition.”

“No. I think
horny is the right one. I’m a wordsmith, remember?”

He almost
smiled but didn’t reply. Just pushed her down onto her back until she was
spread out beneath him.

“Well, six
weeks is a long time,” she said, the humor transforming into something deep and
hot as she gazed up at him. “I guess horniness is to be expected.”

On another
night, he would have laughed, but tonight he slid both hands from her belly to
her soft breasts.

She arched up
into his hands. “God, Ander, maybe I’m kind of horny too.”

He leaned over
so he could kiss her, and she tugged on his lower lip in a way that made him
harden even more. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her gently. “Good.”

Lori reached up
to grab him by the shoulders and tried to pull him into position. “Well, what
are you waiting for? It’s been forever.” Her voice was familiar, ironic, so
dear.

But it wasn’t
the way he needed to hear her tonight.

He resisted her
hands and carefully pushed her back down, although she kept wriggling in an
attempt to evade his grasp. “No, let
me
.”

It was a
request. They both knew it. It was as close as Ander could come to admitting
what he needed from her.

Lori grew still
beneath him and met his eyes. Then her body relaxed. “Okay. Sounds good to me.
I’m tired anyway, so you’ll have to do most of the work.”

Relief
overwhelmed him as he grabbed the bottom of her tank top.

“But you know
that patience isn’t one of my virtues, right?” she added dryly. “So just keep
that in mind.”

So strong. So
clever. So generous and loving. She understood him better than anyone ever had.

And God help
him—tonight he wanted to make her beg.

She lifted her
arms up so he could remove her top and skate his hands over her bare skin.

The previous
stimulation had left her sensitive, so it didn’t take long before she was
squirming at his touch. He slid his hands along her belly and sides, teasing
the place under her arms that he knew made her shudder. Then he moved back to
her breasts. Grazed over them so lightly that she pushed her chest up to get
more friction.

She’d been
breathing erratically, but when he finally chaffed her nipples with his palms
she released a lingering moan. He loved the sound of it—knew it was real.

When he didn’t
move away from her breasts, Lori gasped, “Ander, you’ve suitably awed me with
your skills at foreplay, but I’m more than ready now.”

“Are you?” He
tweaked both nipples in simultaneous attention.

Her hands
settled on the waistband of her pants to pull them down over her hips. “Yeah.
You can get down to business any time now, please.”

Ander drew her
hands away from her hips and raised them up over her head. The move stretched out
her torso, and the erect, rosy peaks stood out prominently on her fair skin. “You
were letting me, remember?”

“Right. I
forgot. I got excited. Go to it, then.” Her voice was mocking, but her eyes
were tender—and a momentary fullness in his chest almost distracted him from what
he needed tonight. She kept her arms above her head where he’d placed them and
added, “Just don’t forget that there’s more to me than the chestal region.”

He chuckled.
She’d always been able to make him laugh. But a rush of something else washed
over him as he gazed at her soft, strong body—somehow she’d always been both at
once—stretched out beneath him.

Ander stopped
laughing and took one breast in his mouth.

As he suckled,
teasing the tight nipple with his tongue, he twirled the other one with his
fingers. Lori was soon making whimpering noises. Eventually, she couldn’t keep
her arms above her head, and her hands clutched at his head instead.

He didn’t stop.
Didn’t even pause to give her respite from the sensations. Finally, writhing
against the bed and clawing the back of his neck, Lori panted, “Please, Ander.
Can’t take any more.”

He lifted his
mouth from her skin and looked at her flushed, damp face. “You don’t like it?”

She rolled her
eyes again, getting her wits back in the break from stimulation. “You know very
well that I like it, but I need a lot more than that.”

He lowered his
head again, and his tongue had barely flicked over her nipple when she twitched
and cried out in sharp pleasure.

“What do you
need?” he mumbled over her skin, wanting to hear her say it.

“I need you to
touch me, but you won’t.”

He carefully
eased down her pajama pants, pushing them down her legs until she was naked
except for her pale blue underwear. “I will,” he murmured. “I will.”

Easing open her
legs, he felt another deep thrill at the sight of the damp spot on the thin fabric.
It still awed him that she wanted him so much. Not just the way he made her
feel, but
him
. Who he was.

He stroked his
hands up and down her legs. Then he leaned over and trailed his lips up her leg
and inner thigh.

Her panting
grew more intense as he moved closer to where she wanted him.

He stopped at
the edge of her panties and gave her a few light nibbles, but he didn’t proceed
any farther.

“Ander, please,
now.”

He was
intoxicated by the rough need in her voice and the deep, familiar scent of her
arousal. His erection was almost painful now, but it was a pain that spurred
him on, distracted him from the shuddering in his chest. “Tell me what you
want.” He needed to hear it, needed to hear all of it.

“Touch me,” she
begged, fisting her hands in the sheet. “Or use your mouth. Or fuck me. Or
something. Just do it quickly.”

He nuzzled the
wet spot, and she gave a harsh cry of pleasure and tried to grind herself
against his face.