Dangerously Broken (14 page)

He heard the tears in her voice, but he let her give him one last shove before she walked away, back toward their friends. He saw her go back to Allie, sink into her embrace, and he felt like absolute shit.

That should be me comforting her. Except she won’t let me.

Fuck it. And fuck her not
letting
him.

A small rage was burning in his chest. Rage and certainty and he wasn’t quite sure where either had come from. Didn’t matter. He knew what he needed to do.

He stalked after her and grabbed her right out of Allie’s arms. “We’re not done talking. You’re coming with me, Summer
Grace
.”

“What the fuck?” Mick demanded.

“Mick, let them go,” Allie said, and Jamie would have shot her a look of gratitude if he weren’t so completely focused on the woman struggling in his grasp.

“Summer Grace,” he said, keeping his tone low. “You can come with me or I’m about to make a hell of a scene right here in front of everyone.”

“Like you haven’t done that already,” she muttered, but she stopped struggling.

“Oh, you haven’t seen what I can do if necessary. You coming or do I carry you out of here?”

There was a long pause, but she kept her gaze on his, not even glancing at the others. It was as if nothing existed but the two of them, the tension thick in the air between them. As if nothing mattered but what might happen next.

Nothing does.

Finally she nodded, shook him off, and with her chin held high she headed for the part of the wall they all used to climb into the closed cemetery.

“Sorry, guys,” he shot over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Mick said.

“Go get her,” Marie Dawn chimed in. “What? It’s exciting.”

Jamie caught up with Summer Grace in a few long strides and grabbed her elbow. She kept moving, not looking at him, but she didn’t try to shake him off. At the wall he gripped her arm tighter.

“I’m giving you a boost up.”

She sighed. “Whatever. I can do it on my own, though.”

“You’re only five-foot-three.”

“I can do it myself, Jamie,” she said through gritted teeth. “I always do. I can use a can opener and pay my bills myself, too. I’m a Goddamn superwoman without you around. I can do a lot more than you’ve ever given me credit for.”

“Yeah. I know.”

She turned to look at him. “You do?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? Why do you think I’m dragging you out of here with me so we can talk? Did you think it was just to show that I could? Because you know, that move has earned me a lot of points with the crowd.”

She surprised him by cracking a half-smile. “Maybe.”

“Don’t think just because we have some talking to do that you won’t be owed a spanking.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m not scared of you. And you might not get to spank me. Your silence was the beginning of renegotiations of our limits.”

Fuck.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything, Summer Grace. But maybe you should be. And we’ll see about your limits.”

“Stop with the dire warnings and give me a leg up, will you, Braveheart?”

“Make that two spankings.”

“Promises, promises.”

He shook his head and clasped his hands for her to put her foot into. “Climb over the damn wall already and you’ll see how good I am at keeping my promises.”

Except for the one. But he was feeling more and more confused about how to interpret the promise he’d made to Brandon so long ago.

Would his friend have been upset if he and Summer Grace ended up together? He didn’t think so. But the kink . . . Would Brandon have known how to react to that at nineteen? How much would the years have changed his perspective?

Brandon would never know, though, would he? Maybe all he could do was his best.

He followed her over the wall and took her hand in his as they crossed Conti Street to where his Corvette was parked. It was a risk parking there at night, but he’d always taken whatever his current hot rod was to Brandon’s remembrance night, and nothing had ever happened to one of his cars there. It was as if Brandon were watching over them. He opened the passenger side door and watched with a small smile as Summer Grace’s hand stroked the cherry-red paint, lingering there for several moments. She’d always appreciated the muscle cars—maybe almost as much as he and Brandon did.

She slid into the pristine black leather seat and he closed the door behind her, then went around to the driver’s side and folded his long legs into the car. He flipped on the headlights before starting the car and the usual small thrill went through him at the purr of the powerful engine. But it was nothing compared to the fact that Summer Grace sat there beside him.

Gotta make it right.

“Your place or mine?” he asked.

“Yours,” she said without hesitation.

He raised an eyebrow at her but she looked straight ahead through the windshield.

“Okay. My place it is.”

As he pulled onto the street, the rain started, as it so often did in this subtropical city. The only sounds were the quiet thunder of the engine, the windshield wipers going back and forth and the rain splashing on the top of the Corvette as he drove. He didn’t let himself look at Summer Grace. He couldn’t. He was too damn distracted by her as it was, already formulating what he had in store for her at his place—and by what needed to be said. It was an insane mix of raw emotion and stark desire. But that’s just how things were with them. Pure intensity on every level. It wasn’t drama, like it was with some women. It was simply true.

When he reached the Pontchartrain Expressway he opened the engine up, the roar of it satisfying, helping him to focus on the drive home. A few minutes later he exited and hung a right onto Kerlerec Street, then pulled into a parking spot just past his house. He finally let himself look at her. She was still staring out the window—he could see the shadowed profile of her long lashes, faintly illuminated by the amber streetlamps as she blinked, the sooty weight of them coming down on her high cheekbones. He couldn’t read her from this angle. Was she still mad despite their banter? Hurt? She had a right to both.

“You gonna look at me, sugar?”

She let out a sigh. “Oh, you’re calling me ‘sugar’ again?”

He reached over to take her hand and felt her fingers wrap around his. He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Summer Grace.”

“I know you are, Jamie.”

“You still mad at me? Upset?”

“A little. If I wasn’t I’d be a doormat. No one likes a doormat, Jamie.”

“You’re not a doormat. You want to talk to me?”

“Not really.”

“You just wanna give me a hard time, is that it?”

She chuckled. “Maybe I do.”

Ah, there’s my tough girl.

“In that case, I have the perfect cure for your mad.”

He grabbed her and unbuckled her seat belt, pulling her across the console in one easy move, then into his lap.

“Jamie! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m spanking you in the front seat of my car.”

“You are not!”

“Wanna bet, sweetheart?”

He lifted her until she was straddling him, and with one hand he yanked her shorts down, revealing her nearly bare ass—not that the small scrap of lace she wore would get in his way.

“Aw, you dressed up just for me,” he said, stroking his hand over the smooth flesh of her perfect little ass.

“I did not.”

“You may as well have. I’m enjoying it either way.”

*   *   *

S
UMMER WRIGGLED IN
Jamie’s strong grasp, but he hung on tight. “I bet you are,” she sassed, enjoying the banter. Enjoying the way he held on to her. Overpowered her. It made her mind empty out, which was exactly what she needed tonight.

Jamie
was what she needed, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Despite her anger—her justifiable anger—his little cockfight of a show at the cemetery had told her what she’d needed to know. And his touch was getting to her. It always did.

“Better behave, bad girl,” he warned, mock severity in his low tone. Or maybe not so “mock.”

“You know me better,” she argued, squirming harder. But he only grabbed a handful of her long hair and wrapped it around his fist.

Oh yes, exactly what I need.

She kept wriggling, and the more she struggled the tighter he held on to her, her body going soft and hot all over in his commanding grip.

“I know you’ll love it when I spank you,” he said, lowering his tone. So damn sexy she could hardly stand it. “You’ll love every single strike on your fine, fine ass. Every smooth stroke of my hand in between smacks as I run my palm over your burning skin. And in minutes you’ll be moaning. Wanting more. Oh, I know you, sugar, better than I ever have before. I know what you want. What that hot little body of yours needs. And no one can give it to you like I can.”

“Fuck, Jamie,” she murmured. Every single thing he’d said was true.

He chuckled quietly. The first smack came and she let out a soft groan. Then another hard smack, and another, and soon she was squirming with pain and the most exquisite pleasure—it flooded her system, making her wet instantly. She laid her cheek against the headrest behind Jamie’s head and gave herself over to the spanking. To pleasure. To the heat of his body so close to hers, the burning pain of his hand as he spanked and caressed.

When his hand slipped between her thighs, she gasped.

“Mmm, baby, you are so hot. So wet. Fuck.”

“Yes, please,” she begged. “Please, Jamie.”

Somehow he unbuckled his seat belt—damn, he was good at that!—and slid out of the car with her in his arms. It was still raining, small drops spattering them as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her across the street. In moments he had the front door unlocked, then he carried her up the narrow stairs, through his living room and into the bedroom.

Jamie’s bedroom. She had a quick moment to take it in, illuminated by the pale hall light: the sleekly modern four-poster bed in a dark wood, the red blanket folded back to reveal the bed neatly made with sheets in a gray and white geometric pattern. The enormous mirror framed in dark wood leaning against a wall next to the bed—it must have been almost as tall as he was and maybe four feet wide. Which meant that from the bed you could see everything.

Oh, nice.

He set her down on the bed and moved her up toward the pillows, handling her roughly.

“Don’t be careful with me, Jamie,” she said, even though she knew he wouldn’t be. Never any more than he had to be.

“I won’t be. I promise.” He grinned, those devastating dimples flashing.

She knew he’d keep his word, and at that moment those words were the only thing that mattered.

“Q
UIET
NOW
,”
J
AMIE
said, placing his hand over Summer’s mouth and pressing hard enough to let her know he meant business—hard enough that it pressed her head into the downy softness of the mattress a little. And her sex went hot at the utter command in that small action.

He yanked her shorts down over her legs, his other hand still tight over her mouth. He pulled her sandals off and straddled her body, grinning down at her, his face utterly masculine and beautiful in the dim wash of silvery moonlight that shone through one of the open shutters. He looped a finger through the edge of her lace thong. She arched her hips, needing him to touch her, but he let the lace go and laid a heavy hand on her hip.

“Still,” he said, his tone full of authority.

She stopped moving, her breath coming out in hot pants against the hand clamped across her mouth. Her sex went tight, making her aware of how wet she was, how swollen.

Need him, need him, need him.

He was making her crazy. But she would do as she was told. He was right—the spanking had taken the fire out of her. Now all she wanted—needed—was to please him. Partly because she knew he wouldn’t reward her with the pleasure she craved otherwise, but also purely for the sake of pleasing him.

Jamie.

As she lay there blinking up at him, his grin faded and his expression shifted, his brows drawing together as he slid one hand over her breast.

“No bra. It really does seem like you dressed for me tonight. Good girl.”

She wasn’t about to argue. Not at this point. And maybe she had, somewhere in the back of her mind.

“But do you remember what happens to good girls, sugar?” he went on. “In case you’ve forgotten, a lot of things. And I can’t ever let you guess which way it’ll go, can I? Sometimes it’ll be putting my hand between your thighs and pressing my fingers into your hot pussy. And sometimes it might be spanking you until your skin is raw—because good or bad, you
will
get spanked. But you like that, don’t you, baby? You’ll like this, too.”

He drew back and used both hands to pinch her nipples, the fabric of her ribbed tank top grating against her flesh.

She moaned.

“Not enough? You never can get enough, but I love that about you.”

He pinched harder, twisting her sensitive flesh between his fingertips.

“Oh, God, Jamie!”

“‘Oh God’ good or ‘Oh God’ bad?”

“Both!”

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

His girl. Yes.

Then her entire body tried to arc off the bed as he pinched her so damn hard she nearly screamed, but he was still straddling her, holding her down. And immediately she was soaking, aching.

“Ah, you like that, sugar. Yeah, you do. You’re gonna like this, too.”

He tore his white tank top over his head. She could never see his body without appreciating the ripple of muscle in his abs, his shoulders, his biceps. Without his ink turning her on. And those luscious pierced nipples.

She groaned.

“Yeah, baby. I like to hear that—to hear your pleasure. I need it like I need my own breath.”

He bent over her and pushed her tank top up, baring her naked breasts, and placed a soft, hot kiss between them. She sighed. He turned his head and bit into the soft flesh.

“Ah!”

He shifted and took one stiff nipple into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue, then sucking hard, hurting her. Then he licked at the sore skin before sucking hard again. He was driving her mad, the pleasure and the pain some crazy elixir she couldn’t get enough of.

He moved down her body, lower and lower, until he was licking and kissing and nibbling his way around the lace of her thong. He forced her thighs apart with rough hands and moved his face lower. She felt the scruff on his jaw against one thigh, then he yanked the lace aside and plunged his tongue right into her.

“Oh! God . . .”

He began to fuck her with his tongue, hard and fast and relentless. Desire was like a series of electric shocks rumbling through her body. She needed more. Needed to come. But she knew this would be at his pace. Under his control.

Yes.

Suddenly he pressed his fingers into her—she didn’t know how many—and spread them inside her so that she was filled up, and he began a hard pumping.

“Jamie . . . I can’t take it. I can’t . . . can’t wait.”

“You can do it. Take it for me. Wait to come.”

Sensation built, a tight coil in her belly. Liquid heat in her sex. Her hips arched into his thrusting fingers and he pulled them away. She almost sobbed, her hands scrabbling at the cool sheets. But in moments he’d replaced his fingers with his hot, wet tongue and she sighed in relief. Sighed with indescribable pleasure when he began to lick her sensitive clit, his tongue moving fast, pressing hard, until the pleasure itself hurt. But she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Her climax started to shiver through her, and he stopped.

“No . . . please.”

He clamped his hand across her mouth once more. “Shh. No pleading. No begging. You’ll get what I choose to give you. You’ll give me your pleasure, sugar girl. And when I ask for it you’ll give me your orgasm, too, won’t you? Tell me,” he demanded.

He took his hand away and she gasped, “Yes, Jamie.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll come for you. For
you
.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He went back to work with his lovely tongue, torturing her with pleasure while he pinched the inside of her thighs with hard, hurting fingers. The pain made sensation spiral once more, taking her higher and higher, until she couldn’t think at all. She was nothing but sensation, riding the rolling waves up and down as Jamie dictated with his touch—or his denial of it. Each time she reached that crest and couldn’t hold her climax back any longer, he backed off, forcing her to pace herself. Finally he pulled away completely and sat up. She was too limp with pleasure and pain, her system too suffused by it all, to do anything more than blink up at him.

“Spread wider for me, sweetheart.” She did as he asked. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Your beautiful pussy, so wet and pink and sweet as a peach in the summertime.” He licked his lush mouth and her sex clenched hard. “I love the taste of you, baby. I want to drink you up.” He unbuttoned his jeans and she held her breath as his smooth skin was revealed. “But right now I need to fuck you even more.”

Then he was naked and sheathing his beautiful cock with a condom he’d taken from the table next to the bed. He dragged her by the ankles to the foot of the mattress and hooked her heels over his shoulders.

“Hands clasped over your head, my good girl.”

He held his cock at the entrance to her pussy, brushing it over the swollen lips. Then he plunged.

“Ah! Jamie!”

“Don’t you come. You come when I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yes,” she panted.

He pulled out of her and she wanted to cry. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I come when you tell me I can.”

“Ah, that’s my good sugar girl.” He caressed his thick cock, wrapping his fingers around it and beginning to stroke. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard. I’m gonna fuck you until you can barely breathe—until I lose my breath. Until I am so deep inside you will never forget me.”

She almost came right then, but his command was even more powerful than the pleasure he brought her. She bit her lip and held it back as he pushed into her once more, his length and girth filling her completely. As he did exactly what he said he would. He fucked her so hard she slid up on the sheets, and she had to force herself to hold her clasped hands over her head, as he’d ordered. But he grabbed her hips and dragged her back to the edge of the bed, then lifted her bottom higher, allowing him to surge deeper inside her in long strokes. And in between she caught small flashes of their reflection in the big mirror—it was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.

He tilted his hips, his hands digging into her bottom, lifting her. He gave one lovely, savage thrust that really fucking hurt, that made her feel as if she were drowning in pleasure.

“Oh, oh . . . God!”

She was blinded by sensation, her vision swimming. She felt beautifully powerless, giving it all over to Jamie.

The pressure built, but he pinched the top of her thigh hard enough to bring her out of it, away from the ready edge of orgasm.

“Ow!”

“‘Ow’ is not a safeword, sugar,” he panted, his dimples making tiny, irresistible divots in his cheeks.

She started to laugh, tried to swallow it, but she was too high on endorphins and the pleasure swamping her body, and she couldn’t get it under control. Jamie was smiling down at her as he fucked her, his hips slamming into hers, never slowing down. But soon his smile turned to a baring of teeth as he shivered, and she stopped giggling. He was shaking all over. “Now!” His voice was a hoarse groan. “Come, baby.”

He pressed onto her clit with his fingertips—she didn’t even need it. Her body exploded, sensation like a thousand points of light inside her, searing her with pleasure so intense she really was blinded for several long moments—or minutes. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. All she knew was their trembling bodies, every hot, silky place where their skin met, where flesh touched flesh. The smell of him all over her. His cries and her own.

Finally the only sound was their panting breath and the low, chirping hum of the cicadas outside. Jamie collapsed on top of her, then rolled onto his side and pulled her into his arms. He held her loosely at first, but when he tightened his arms around her, tears pooled behind her eyes.

Damn it!

She pulled in the humid, come-scented air and blew out a few breaths in a row.

“Hey, baby. What is it?”

“It’s . . . nothing. Really. I don’t know. Just an emotional night, I guess. I’m good, though. I am.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Both of us, maybe?”

“Good girl.”

“Jamie—”

He lifted his head to look at her, catching her chin with his fingertips. “Hey. I’m not mocking you, sweetheart. I mean it. I like that you can be so honest with me. And it’s okay. Anyway, if I called you a bad girl you might kick me, and I’ve already known the mighty power of your wrath tonight.”

One corner of his mouth quirked and she smacked his chest, pausing to appreciate the solid wall of muscle there.

“See?”

“Oh, there’s much worse where that came from,” she told him, her mood lifting.

“Don’t think you’re gonna convince me to switch, sugar, ’cause that ain’t happening.”

“Ha! As if I ever thought it might.”

He grabbed her as he rolled onto his back until she was on top of him. “No? You never thought you might try to do me with a strap-on?”

Summer rolled her eyes. “I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted to do anyone with a strap-on, but if I did, it sure as hell would not be you, Jamie Stewart-Greer! I may be a lot of things, but I’m not stupid. Or delusional.”

“Then kiss me like you’re the Top here.”

She giggled. “Well, I
am
on top of you.”

“Shut up and kiss me, my good girl.”

“Just for that I might have to be bad.”

“Oh, really?”

He arched one dark brow before pulling her face down to his by her hair and kissing her so hard she could barely catch her breath.

She began to melt instantly, but when he let her go she couldn’t help sassing him. “Being bad is still sounding like an attractive option.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Before she had a chance to think about it he’d flipped her onto her stomach and was straddling her, one arm pinned behind her back. She loved the way he manhandled her—her greedy sex was pulsing with a hot, stinging desire already. Still, she said, “I can be bad from down here, you know.”

“Summer Grace?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m getting hard again.”

“And?”

“And we’re about to find out if you like being at the other end of a strap-on made of flesh.”

She blinked twice before she fully understood what that meant. “Ohhh.”

He chuckled but kept a firm grip on her arm as he leaned over her, and her head was at the right angle to see what he took from the drawer: a tube of lube, a few condoms, and a pack of baby wipes. Even knowing what he had in mind had her squirming.

“Hold still, my little sugar girl, and I might go easy on you. Nah, who am I kidding?”

“Jamie—”

One sharp smack on her ass and she bit her tongue to keep quiet.

“That’s better. Now I need both my hands but you’re to keep your arm behind your back. In fact, up on your knees . . . yeah, that’s it, but keep your face on the bed. You can use one arm to stabilize yourself—you’re gonna need it.”

She closed her eyes and waited, trying not to move as he spread the cheeks of her ass and rubbed a good amount of the anal gel lubricant on with his fingers. She hadn’t been touched there by a man in far too long. And now it was going to be Jamie. And it felt so damn good.

Oh yes.

He slipped his other hand around her waist and played with her clit while he teased the tight hole of her ass with his lubed fingers. She wanted to push back into him, to impale herself, but she was trying to behave, to comply. And her head was sinking into subspace—something that had always happened to her during anal play, even though she hadn’t always known what to call it. There was something very submissive for her about giving up that part of her body to a man. And with Jamie . . . well, anything that had felt even remotely submissive to her before was magnified by a hundred with him. By a thousand.

“Breathe in,” he instructed her, and she did, her body instantly going loose as she anticipated what was about to happen.

“Good, yes. Relax, sugar.”

He slipped one fingertip inside her. She wanted more—so much more. But she also understood this was how it was done—a little at a time until he knew what she could take. He pressed it in the tiniest bit farther, slid it out, and pleasure was a long, wistful sigh in her body.