Broken (6 page)

I placed the cheesecake on the granite counter and admired the
stainless steel décor.

A
very
good living.

I pulled out one of the stools from the breakfast bar and
waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Chris came around the corner in a white t-shirt and jeans. I
think I drooled.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and
placed the cheesecake in the fridge. “Want a tour?”

I nodded. He took me by the hand, which I was surprised at. It
was a little forward on his part, but I went along with it.

He took me around the place, showing me his office. He had those
floor-to-ceiling bookshelves where I caught authors like Saramago,
Nicholson, and Weis, along with an abundance of books on Celtic
mythology.

I also noticed he had a lot of plants — all well cared
for. I tried not to look at them.

Of course, the tour ended with the room I was the most nervous
about.

Then his grip on my hand tightened, as he led me into his bedroom.

Chapter 7

A masculine-looking four-poster was the first thing that drew my
attention. It was dark like the rest of the décor. The
amount of pillows and white comforters made me think it would be
like sleeping on a cloud. The rest of the room was sparsely
decorated. I actually looked at the ceiling to see if there was a
mirror. I don’t know what made me think there might be one
there. I was a little disappointed there wasn’t.

Where did that thought come from?

Chris continued to take me by the hand.

“And this is where I sleep,” he said.

I let go of his hand to go sit on the bed. There was no way I
was going to pass up a chance to see what it felt like.

I hopped on and closed my eyes. I wasn’t disappointed. I
sank into it. I really needed to get a better paying job. Working
for the video store was just not cutting it.

As Chris walked towards me, I caught a scent — apple and
cinnamon. Its source was a lit candle on the dresser.

He faced me, standing between my legs. I was drawn into those
eyes. He put his hands on my thighs, pushing them apart just enough
so he could get his body closer to mine.

Strangely, I didn’t fight him.

My heart was pounding in my chest. His face leaned
towards mine and his stare left me frozen. I could smell him from
here, a sweet and musky scent I couldn’t help but drink in.
His face leaned in closer, and I couldn’t believe this was
happening. My heart trembled.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he
whispered.

His lips hovered over mine.

My brain told me to wait, that this was a mistake, but every
other part of my body made my face lunge forward.

My lips pressed against his, soft and warm.

Oh my god
.

I couldn’t believe this was happening.

He pushed forward, harder, and his tongue slipped between my
lips. There was a sweetness to his mouth. I hungered for it.

His hands reached for my waist and he pressed his body against
me while I squeezed my legs to pull him in. His tongue danced with
mine, slow and intense.

I moaned. My heart throbbed. I wanted this. I needed it.

I let him explore my mouth and lips. I could taste his hunger. I
gave him mine, full and hard.

His hands slid up my back, strong and forceful. Mine did the same,
inching up the muscles of his back. I wanted him closer.

Slow and rhythmic, our tongues danced. I barely breathed.

He pulled out slow and rested his lips against my forehead,
breathing hard. “Maybe we should wait,” he said.
“I don’t want to rush this.” He pulled me up,
wrapping those arms of his around me. “I want this to be
right,” he whispered.

Rush? Everything about this was rushed.

I didn’t care.

I pushed him on the bed.

I straddled him and pressed my lips against his. He gave in
immediately, allowing my tongue in. This time
he
moaned.

His hands pulled me closer, harder than before. I could feel how
much he wanted this.

I rubbed against him while we kissed. His body pushed up against
mine. Even through his jeans I could feel him between my legs,
hard and throbbing. I wanted them off.

I left his mouth, sliding my tongue down to his neck, tasting
him, kissing him.

He moaned again.

I inched down, pulling the shirt up so I could run my tongue
across his chest. I bit his nipples. He sucked in his breath.

I worked my way down to his stomach, eager, but his hands
grabbed my head. He sat up, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I
kissed him, savoring his taste, then I forced him back on the bed.
I wanted something else.

I undid his pants and he lifted his hips. I yanked them down. He
was thick, hard, and wanting. My tongue danced all around him,
teasing. I kissed the insides of his legs. He gasped and moaned as
I slid my tongue upwards. I was slow, deliberate.

My tongue danced along the tip and slid back down. Then I took
him into my mouth. He groaned, his hands running through my
hair.

His knees lifted, his thick legs pressing gently against my
head. His hips rose and fell in motion with my mouth. My hands
reached for his butt. I squeezed. He got harder, thicker.

He moaned again and I went all the way down on him. I nearly
choked as I satisfied my need to fill my mouth with his length.

Then he sat up, tossing me onto the bed. He pulled off his shirt
and pressed against me, his tongue entering my mouth.

When he stopped, he smiled. “My turn,” he said.

He untied the scarf around my neck, while he nibbled at my ears.
Then he slowly undid my shirt, and with each button his lips inched
down my body. When the last button was undone, he pulled me up to
take my shirt off, kissing me again. With one hand he unclasped my
bra and lowered me to the bed.

Then his tongue explored my breasts, intentionally ignoring my
nipples. They were hard, and yearning for his touch. He danced
around them, every once in a while flicking them. His hands cupped
my breasts, then he seized them and squeezed. He nibbled at my
lips, careful bites and licks and then his fingers began to toy
with my nipples.

He pinched and flicked until I thought I would scream. Then his
mouth went down, and his tongue was on one aroused nipple, then the
other. He licked at first, and then pressed his mouth over it. I
grabbed his head and pulled him down as he worked on each one.

His hands moved to my pants, unbuttoning them. I lifted my hips
and he kissed me just above my panties. He pulled those down with
his teeth, slow and delicate.

His tongue slid up my leg. I quivered, wishing for him to hurry;
needing him to.

When he finally reached me, I tipped my head back and voiced my
pleasure. “Oh, god.”

He took his time, licking, tasting, exploring, making me squirm.
I wrapped his head in my legs and he brought his hands up to hold
mine. Then he pushed his tongue inside me, slow and rhythmic, just
like when he kissed me.

I groaned.

My hips moved in time with his tongue, pushing up against his
face. One of his hands let go and those thick fingers of his were
inside me while his tongue continued to work.

I moaned.

My eyes rolled back. He knew what he was doing. He kept at me,
unrelenting. I knew what he wanted. My legs squeezed. I tried to
resist. I tried to make it last, but couldn’t.

He consumed my orgasm, reaching deeper with his tongue as I
screamed out.

He slowed a little, becoming gentle, before his tongue worked
its way up once more. He paused at my breasts, biting at my
nipples. Then, he kissed me again, and I tasted his passion and
desire.

I rolled him over, and held his hands down. His eyes flashed.
Between my legs I felt him throb.

“Move,” I said, and shuffled him over. I grabbed my
scarf and those shining emeralds of his told me everything I needed
to know.

I slid up along his body, perching myself just in front of his
face while I tied his hands together. I let him have a little taste
of me while I secured him to the bed. I slid back down letting him
suck on my nipple. I rubbed against him. He was hard and ready.

His eyes were intense, wanting.

I let him in.

We both moaned.

His hips thrust upwards, hard. I pressed down, holding his chest
while he continued to push into me. Every plunge inside me was
ecstasy.

I leaned back against his legs as he continued to drive into me.
When he started to speed up, I slowed him down, wanting it to last.
I leaned down, letting his tongue dance along my nipples while I
continued to ride him. Then I kissed him, raw and hard. He drove
harder. I wanted all of him inside me.

For every thrust of his hips, his tongue danced with mine.

He sped up again. He was bringing me close once more. I
didn’t hold back this time. I screamed with pleasure as he
pushed into me, over and over. He got thicker.

His hips kept going, faster, more urgent. I kissed him again,
pushing back on him. I sucked on his neck and ears. His thrusts
continued, but I knew he was holding out on me. He was bringing me
to ecstasy yet again. I sat up, riding him hard.

His eyes were all over me as he continued to fill me with his
girth. My heart quickened and every breath of mine grew louder.
Then my head tipped back in sheer delight and he screamed with me
as we climaxed in unison.

His final thrusts were fierce and prolonged.

I fell onto his chest.

“Oh my god,” I uttered.

I’d never known such pleasure. Not only did he have size but he
knew what to do with it.

“Oh my god,” I said again.

He was smiling and breathing hard. We were both sweating.

“Little help,” he said, waving his hands. I grinned
back at him and slid up to release him. His tongue toyed with my
nipples.

When I freed his hands, he wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh my god,” he said. “That was …
unbelievable.”

That was a relief to hear. Not that I’d thought he
hadn’t enjoyed it. But since this was our first time, I was glad
I made an impression.

I closed my eyes. “Why?” I asked. “Why
now?”

He squeezed me to him. “I wasn’t sure,” he
said.

“Of what?” I asked. I ran my hand along his
chest.

“That you were interested.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve always been just one of the guys to
you.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “How
could anyone give you any indication otherwise when you’ve
had one woman or another draped over your arm.”

“You were with Tony,” he said.

I laughed. “For one date!”

“Yeah, that wasn’t the impression Tony was giving
everyone. I heard you last night at the bar though. And when I
heard that, I knew I had to try. I just couldn’t live with
the regret of not knowing, of not trying.”

I looked into those eyes. “Don’t you dare break my
heart, Chris Silver. I don’t want to be like those other
women.”

He kissed my forehead. “Don’t you break
mine.”

Chapter 8

Dinner was splendid — penne and salmon in an alfredo sauce
with oyster mushrooms. The man could cook.

Dessert was me, with the cheesecake.

We lay in bed the following morning, Chris’s arms around
me. He was quiet for a while, and I wondered if perhaps he’d
fallen back asleep. It had been a long night.

I looked over to him. He was wide awake, just looking at me.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure I should
say.”

“I don’t play that game. I want honesty, Chris. Even
if it’s not pleasant. I’m not one of those girls that
wants you to tell me what I want to hear. I want openness. I
can’t deal with things if I don’t know about
them.”

He nodded and studied me for a moment before speaking.

“I’m worried,” he said.

“About what?”

“You. And those papers from your mother. What if
it’s true?”