Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (13 page)

I let out an exasperated noise.

“Keep driving. Through until morning.”

She looks at her map.

“Let’s stop in, uh, Missouri.”

Ellie

The next time I wake up, the sun is up and I have no idea where I am, except we’re still on the highway and I’m all cramped up from sitting in the seat. I stretch in place, arching my back. Jack looks haggard, but for some reason I want to reach over and rub his stubble with my fingers. I stop myself before I do, turn sideways, and look at him.

“Where are we?”

He glances at my phone, propped up against the radio on the console. “Missouri. Earth. I have no idea.”

It’s very flat. Sitting up to look around makes me yawn. My stomach quivers.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s early enough for breakfast. Egg McMuffin?”

“Yeah, sure.”

We need gas anyway. Jack pumps it while I step out and pace beside the car, trying to work the blood back into my legs. My shoulder aches from sitting in the car too long. I wiggle my toes inside my sneakers and get back in.

Sighing, I take my shoes off, fumbling with the laces.

Jack spots me.

Without a word, he walks around the car and starts unlacing my shoe for me.

“I’m not broken.”

He looks up at me.

“I know, but I’m not going to let you suffer. Just let me do it, it’ll be faster.”

I sigh and sit back while he slips my shoes off. I start to turn to swing my legs under the dash, but Jack grabs my foot…and tickles.

“Goddamn it!” I giggle, fighting the laughter. “How did you remember that?”

“I remember all your weak spots. Like right here.”

Before I can react he shoves his hands up my arms and starts tickling me. My thick sweatshirt helps but his dancing fingers over my ribs send gales of laughter rippling out of me as I flail around in my seat.

Jack’s fingers slow and his palms rest against my sides. When I manage to open my eye he’s staring at me with a funny look on his face.

“What?”

“I forgot what your laughter sounded like. I mean real laughter, not
I’m pissed at Jack
laughter.”

I sigh. “Just get in the car.”

He sets my shoes between my feet and closes my door for me. He yawns loudly when he gets in, and I fight not to let it take me, too. I sort of swallow the yawn and shift in my seat then put on my belt.

“Tired?”

“I’m getting a little tired of being in the car, yeah. We should keep going. Food.”

“Food,” he agrees. “I’m going to need to crash out soon.”

I look at him, wide-eyed.

“Um, poor choice of words?”

“I know,” I say. “You know, this is the longest I’ve been in a car since then.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda surprised you let me drive.”

I have to turn awkwardly to actually look at him; I can’t see past my own nose unless I turn I my head all the way around.

God, he’s annoying. Just like I remember. He looks over at me and it feels like there’s a big chunk of chocolate melting in my chest.

We barely make it in time for breakfast. Jack orders and I hide inside my hood. I don’t want to see the look on the person’s face when I pull up to the drive-through window. He gets us Egg McMuffins and coffee, but it’s too hot and burns my lip. I take the lid off and let it cool while I eat.

“I will now demonstrate my manliness,” Jack says, and gulps down some of the hot coffee. He coughs and sputters just like I did. “Jesus, what is this, molten lava?”

After we finish eating we split a little bottle of milk and pour a bit into our coffee. I hold both cups in a cardboard tray on my lap while he drives. Apparently they didn’t believe in cup holders in 1969.

“It’s hard,” I say.

“What is?”

I take a sip of coffee. It’s still too hot. “It’s hard to believe you aren’t disgusted by my face.”

“Why?”

“It disgusts me.”

I try to hold it back but I just blurt it out.

“I hate it. I get up every morning and look in the mirror and it’s not
me
anymore. This isn’t my face. Sometimes,” I suck in a breath, “sometimes I forget and I don’t remember until I see myself in the bathroom. I used to cry when that happened. Now I’m used to it. Just this again.”

I take another sip. Jack takes his and takes a long pull on it.

“The worst part is that it feels good when I forget. It’s not pounding in the back of my mind anymore. No little voice whispering, freak, freak, freak.”

“You’re not a freak.”

“You can keep saying that, but it won’t be any less true.”

“You forgot for a while back at your uncle’s place, huh?”

I swallow, hard. “Yeah.”

“Ellie,” he sighs. “That’s what I want. Just forget about it. You can be yourself with me. I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that I find you attractive.”

“Well, um, you were…”

“I was hard as a rock, just say it. God, we’re both adults. You made me so fucking horny, Ellie. I could have just destroyed you right there.”

“Destroyed me?”

“Um, I mean, ah. I’ll be gentle with you…”

“Oh, you will be.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re making a big assumption there, Jack. Don’t think just because we’re going to a motel room you’re going to get some ass.”

I hope he doesn’t hear the quaver in my voice. When he put it like that,
I could just destroy you
, it made my whole body quiver, like a sudden chill breeze. Gooseflesh rises everywhere and I start to shiver a bit. I don’t feel cold, though. Heat swirls in my stomach and expands outward.

The feeling of his cock pressed into my back keeps coming to the front of my mind. He’s not lying, I do get him hard. Or was that just because I was grinding my ass on him? God, I wanted him to yank my underwear down and shove himself inside me.

I squirm in the seat. Jack glances over at me.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Just thinking about, ah, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Liar, I can see it.”

He takes the rest of his coffee and downs it. I stuff the empty cup into the bag and hold mine between my legs. I am starting to feel a little chilly.

“I can’t stand it anymore, I need to get out of this car.”

“Keep an eye out for a hotel sign at one of the exits.”

“I don’t want anybody to see me.”

Jack nods. “We’ll pick a place where we can walk up to the room.”

It takes four exits, meaning about another hour, before I spot a sign for an Econo Lodge and we pull off. Jack pulls up to the front door and gets out.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I keep looking around, waiting for someone to jump out at me and drag me back to the house. Jack finally comes out and wheels the car around to the end of the parking lot.

“I asked for privacy.”

He didn’t need to beg. The motel is empty, only a few cars parked farther away. We’re on the first floor. I rush inside as soon as he opens the door and pull my hood down.

It’s a small room, but clean. Jack pulls all the curtains closed and turns on the heat while I slip out of my sweatshirt. My uncle gave us enough clothes for a few days.

My dad’s stuff. It’s huge and baggy on me but fits Jack pretty well. The sweatshirt he’s wearing is tight around his arms and shoulders and chest.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

I gather some clothes from the bag Rod gave us.

“Crap, I’m out of underwear.”

“I’d rather you leave them off,” Jack says, grinning.

I give him a hard look and slam the bathroom door. I pointedly avoid my reflection in the mirror as I strip and turn on the hot water. It’s frigid in here and I start to shiver as I wait for it to warm up. Finally the steam covers my reflection and I relax. I wriggle my toes on the freezing floor and pop the button to make the heat lamp on the ceiling warm up.

The water scours my skin. I let it soak into my hair and lean my head on the wall, sighing. It feels good to relax a little. The water eases the tension in my neck and shoulders. I flex my hand a little, wincing.

The cheap hotel soap gets the job done. I lather up and let the water sluice it off me, shut off the shower, and step out. I can’t see myself in the mirror. I lift the thick, wet cord of my hair over my shoulder and wrap myself up in a towel. I suppose I’ll have to dry in here.

A wicked urge hits me.

No, I can’t do that.

Or can I?

No, don’t be stupid.

He was hard for me…

Yeah, with your back turned and your ass grinding on him.

He’ll think I’m nuts.

Fuck it.

Still wrapped up in my towel, I open the bathroom door and peer out. Jack is just stepping into the room. He went to the vending machine to buy sodas and candy bars. He’s taking a swig of root beer when I walk out, clutching the towel at my chest to keep it from falling.

He almost chokes.

“Ellie? Jesus.”

I want to do it, but it’s like pushing against a closed door. I can’t make my arm move. I can’t let go of the towel. I start to tremble.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

It feels like ripping off my skin. I pull the towel away and let it fall, and there I am standing before him, naked as the day I was born. I close my eye and wait. I can feel him in the room, moving closer. When he walks it pushes air over my damp body. I can hear him breathing, ragged and excited. When I open my eye, he’s standing in front of me. Looking at me.

I whimper.

“No, no, no, its fine,” he says, touching my shoulders.

I can feel him looking at me. At the scars. I should have told him.

It’s not just my face.

There’s a long gash across my body that starts at my collarbone and runs diagonally, left to right, across my chest. It missed my breast, but not exactly; my left breast has a kind of crease, and it’s crooked. There’s no other word to describe it. There are more burns on my left side, and of course the scar on my right leg where they removed skin to graft to my face.

He slips his arms around me and pulls me to him. When his hand slides down my back I can feel him tracing the scars there.

“God,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Hesitantly I put my arms around him.

“I’m disgusting.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

Gently he lets go but grabs my shoulders when I start to pull away.

“Hold still.”

My heart pounds as I stand naked in front of him. He pulls off the old sweatshirt and unbuttons his shirt, slips out of it, and tosses it on the floor. I suck in a breath at the sight of him. I can’t help it, I touch the muscles on his chest, feel them flex as he moves.

He steps closer to me and leans against me as he undoes his pants and shoves them down, then wriggles out of his shorts.

Holy shit, he’s naked, too.

He puts his hands on my sides, under my arms. I keep my eye locked on his face, trembling. His hands glide up and down, sending shivers through my body from something halfway between a soft caress and a light tickle. He never looks away from me, even as he leans in to kiss me.

I pull back a little out of instinct but he closes the distance. When he pulls me to him I squeak in alarm and break the kiss. I finally look down.

His cock is so hard it’s almost standing straight up, thick and veiny. I can’t find any words. My throat goes dry. I’ve never seen one in person before. My breath comes in sharp gasps. Jack smiles, proud of himself, and gives me a look that excites something deep inside, like a spark that lights a fire in a dark cave.

I wrap my good hand around it and my heart flutters. It’s huge. I can’t even hold it in my grip and touch my fingers together.
Hot,
too, very hot, hard as steel and soft at the same time.

He’s going to put this inside me.
Everything feels unreal. I didn’t realize I was moving. I feel like I’m gliding toward the bed. My thighs back into it and I fall with a squeak, my ass bouncing when I land. I end up sitting there, staring straight at his dick.

He starts to push me down but I push back, grab his shaft in both hands, and kiss it. It’s too damn big to get my mouth around, so I use my tongue and lips. This close, the scent of Jack fills my nostrils like breathing smoke from a furnace, and the way he shudders when I touch him tightens my stomach.

Embarrassment, fear, and wonder swirl all together. He slips his fingers in my hair and toys with it. His cock is glistening and sticky with my spit as I stroke it. Somehow it gets even harder.

“Lay back, honey.”

I swing my legs up onto the bed and fall back into the pillows. Oh my God, is he going to do it now? I don’t know if I’m ready.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“Jack, this is my first time.”

“I know.”

He lies on top of me. I expect him to thrust inside me and tense up, but he doesn’t, not yet. He uses his arms to hold up his weight. It feels weird; my nipples are tight points, and I can feel his chest hair scratching them. I lie still with my hands at my sides, utterly unable to figure out what to do next.

“I’m cold,” I blurt out.

“Hold on.”

He gets up, walks over to the heater under the window, and turns it up. As he walks I watch his cock bobbing. I can’t take my eye off it, but I can’t stop looking at the rest of him, either. He’s like a statue, beautiful. I want to run my hands all over him, and my mouth. I want to taste and feel him. As much as it makes me nervous, I want him inside me. I feel a hollow ache between my legs and my heart speeds up as he draws closer.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

His heavy, warm body presses me down again, and he kisses me.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you?”

“No,” I murmur, and kiss him back, hard.

Deep.

I use my hands. Jack glances at the useless claw that is my left hand and takes my wrist. He kisses my fingers.

“I told you before,” I whisper. “If you’re going to do that, do it where I can feel it.”

“Like here?” he says, and kisses my throat.

I slip my arms around him and pull him against me. His kisses grow more aggressive, wetter, his tongue dragging over my skin. His lips are so hot, and his breath tickles my skin. It’s overwhelming, so much sensation. I can barely stand it but I never want it to stop. It takes me a moment to realize he’s moving lower. My body is throbbing, hungry for him. I slip my arm under him and grasp his cock, and he pulls my hand away and pins it to the bed. I keep the other pressed into his back as he works his way down my chest. The anticipation makes me squirm and a little moan bubbles out of my throat as his mouth moves over my breast, hinting at touching my nipple before he moves away again.