Unbroken (19 page)

“Well, I hate to break it to ya, but your body language says otherwise.” I gulp, and his jaw works the instant that I do. “I can feel your heart beating a million times a minute. Your cheeks are flushed. Every time I speak to you like this, you lick your lips. If you didn’t want more from me, you wouldn’t have chased after me.”

“I came after you to tell you not to do it again,” I lie. “ I don’t know what kinds of girls you’ve been with in the past, but I can assure you, I’m
nothing
like them. You’re not some fucking untouchable God, and I’m not some puny human who’s going to wait around for whatever scraps you decide to throw me! I have feelings—and strong ones—for you.” His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah! I admit it! But just because I have them doesn’t mean you get to use them to take advantage of me! If you don’t feel the same way, then stay as far away from me as possible. I will
not
be played with.”

He shakes his head and gives me the smallest of smiles.

“You think I’m playing a game with you?”

Oh, the audacity. He thinks I’m stupid. He dodged the question about Michele last night for a reason. He doesn’t want me to know how deep his feelings for her go. But I know. I learned all I needed to know the night he stumbled into
Le Chateau D’If.

I don’t need any more details than the ones I already have. They’ll only aid him in further breaking my heart.

“You forget that I know you, Brody Durham. I know where your heart lies. And because of that, we can never be more than friends.”

He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, removing his hands from my forearms and placing one strategically behind my head as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t make any moves to deepen the kiss, to ask for more. He just stays there, frozen, his lips touching mine as his breathing labors like he’s needed this kiss like he needs air to breathe. I don’t know how long we stay like this before he pulls away, closing his eyes and taking deep, ragged breaths.

“If you knew me as well as you think you do, Sabrina, you’d know that I want to be
anything
but just your friend.” His answer is bold, and it’s the one I’ve been waiting to hear for two years. “I belong to you, whether you know it or not. I fell for you the moment you threw ice water in my face and called me pathetic.”

I laugh at the memory of how he
thinks
we first met, and how pissed—but intrigued—I was at the broken boy who had enough balls to call me a bitch. I’m still reeling from that kiss. And the one before that. And the one before
that
.

With tear-filled eyes, I look up at him and crack a small smile.

“I fell first.”

He grabs my waist and drags me toward him once more. My arms come up to wrap around him for the second time and I think he’s about to kiss me again. Instead, his fingers dig into my sides as he props me up on the kitchen counter. I lean toward him and a hand falls between my legs. It inches beneath the hemline of my dress and I gasp. His hand is so
cold.
Tantalizing fingers trail their way up my thighs and suddenly his fingers are grazing me
there
. I jump slightly and gaze up at him expectantly.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he says through gritted teeth. “
Fuck
.”

I grin at him devilishly. I wasn’t expecting this, but if this is what he wants, this is what he’ll get. I’m still on edge after what we almost did last night. However, he can’t take me on my Tia’s kitchen counter. Maybe my own…

No. That’s a thought for another time.

“Mm-mmm,” I reply. “Easy access.”

He grabs both my thighs and suddenly I’m in the air, legs wrapped completely around him as he carries me out of the kitchen. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me away and toward the staircase.

“You have until we reach the top of the stairs to tell me where a bedroom is at, or I’m going to take you against the wall and fuck whoever sees.”

Every word that exits his mouth as we ascend the stairs has a direct line to my crotch. He’s holding nothing back now, now that he knows how I feel about him. And I can only hope that at the end of the night, he can admit he feels the same way about me.

“Sabrina,” he murmurs into my hair as I cling to him tightly. “Two more steps.”

He’s warning me that I don’t have much time left. The thought of having my way with him against the wall sounds spectacular right about now, but my
Dad
is here. Yeah. I’d better just tell him where to go.

“To your left, two doors down. It’s my cousin Carlos’s bedroom. He hasn’t set foot in this house in five years, and no one will suspect we’re in there.” A beat. “If we’re quiet.”

He chuckles darkly, pushing the door open and walking inside. He kicks the door closed.

Oh,
God
, that’s so fucking sexy.

Tossing me on the bed, he unbuttons his shirt and descends upon me. He seizes my mouth with his, leaving no time for me to gasp or speak or respond. He steals every breath before I have the chance to take it. He pulls away momentarily to strip himself of his pants and his hand slips between my legs. Slow, torturous movements tickle my clit, and I groan against his neck.

“Looks like it’s not me we have to worry about when it comes to being quiet,” he says, and I can hear his lazy smile even though I can’t see it.

If I wasn’t being distracted right now, I’d smack the smirk off his face. But I can’t…

Oh.
Oh.

Oh, my God his touch is ecstasy. I never could have dreamed this moment up even if I tried.

“I’m not a virgin, you know,” I tell him on a moan, arching my back as I ride his hand. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

Brody stops his slow, agonizing torture of my body, his hand dropping from my breast and the other going completely still. He places a hand behind my head and leans in to kiss my temple.

“Oh, Sabrina,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “I don’t care that you’ve had sex before. You deserve for it to feel like it’s your first time,
every time.
You deserve to be kissed every second of every minute of every hour of every day, by someone who knows how to do it well. By someone who cherishes you the way you deserve to be cherished. And your body deserves to be adored.” I gasp, and he gives me the most genuine smile I’ve ever gotten from him. “Let me adore you.”

Every inch of me is on fire as his free hand comes up to cup my breast. He’s on top of me now, and my eyes widen as he springs free of his boxers and hovers above me. He takes a moment to protect me before licking his lips hungrily.

“Dove, one more thing.” His voice is a deadly whisper, and I about lose it right then and there. Waves of euphoria lap me up with every touch of his and I grind my hips against his hand once more in an attempt to find my release. He knows what I’m doing all too well, because he removes his hand. “The guy. Who was he?”

I shake my head.

He’s really going to bring this up
now
? Really?

“He’s no one.” I cry out as he squeezes my nipple, tugging it gently. “He’s just a friend. My best friend. He’s no one, I swear.” He glances down at me, making sure I’m telling the truth, I think. I do wear my emotions on my face like nobody’s business. “It’s you, Brody. It’s always been you.”

And then he fills me.

FIFTEEN

SIGH.

I KNOW IT GOES against everything in nature to
say
sigh, but all I can do is just that.

He’s perfect. Together
we’re
perfect. After three rounds with our absence going unnoticed, we’re both fully satisfied and lying in each other’s arms atop Carlos’s
L.A. Dodgers
blanket. He was incredibly gentle, sensual, and each time, he made sure I was pleased before he allowed himself release. There was a moment when I wondered whether he felt anything for me at all, but then he paused to kiss me and ask if I was okay.

I never even got that courtesy my first time, but I got it from him.

I think that made me fall a little harder for him.

He has my hand twined in his, and he’s just staring down at it. Me, I’m staring up at him. I can’t get over how content he looks. He seems so…young. I know he’s only a few months older than me, but he’s always seemed like he should be in his mid-twenties or something. But today, he looks his age.

He definitely
feels
his age. Ha ha.

The edges of his mouth curl up and his eyebrows lower as his expression relaxes. My free hand reaches over his body and my fingers trace the ridges of his abdomen. His gaze meets mine and he gives me a full-strength megawatt smile. Leaning over, he kisses me. It’s sweet. It’s not as hungry and savage as the others. Maybe it’s because we’re not craving everything anymore. We have it now.

And damn me for ruining the moment, but I have to know what
it
is.

“What are we doing, Brody?” I ask him.

I hate how I sound because I’m currently reminding myself of every whiny teenage girl in real or fictional existence who finds the need to label every Goddamn thing.

“What do you mean, what are we doing?” he asks. “You have feelings for me. I reciprocate. You’re mine. What else is there?”

He says this so casually, like he figured it all out before I even had the chance to ask him. But
damn
do I like the way that sounds coming out of his mouth.

You’re mine
. I could listen to him repeat those words a million times over and
never
get tired of hearing them.

“So does that mean you’re mine, too? Because I don’t like to share.”

He chuckles at my words but doesn’t say anything in response. Everything in his demeanor shouts that he wants to tell me all about himself, revealing the secrets from the deepest, darkest corners of his heart. And I want to know about it.

“Sabrina, I want to apologize.” His words come out of nowhere, and he sits up, running a hand along the side of my face. “I care about you. I care about you so much. I should have said that before we had sex.”

“Which time?” I tease, a grin on my face.

He laughs. “Let me finish!” I nod, and he gives me another genuine smile. “Listen, I don’t want you to think I had sex with you and there were no feelings involved.” He pauses to run a thumb across my lower lip. “Because there were. There
are
. More than I know what to do with.” He pauses. “I don’t know what you know about my past, but I’ve only been with two girls before you. Only one of them was exclusive, and the other was just a means to an end. There are things you don’t know, and you’ll find out in due time. But I just need you to know that I care about you so much, and I’ll never intentionally hurt you. And I’ll never play with your heart. I just need you to trust me. You’re mine, and I’ll protect you at all costs.”

Oh. There’s nothing in this world that could have prepared me for hearing those words come out of his mouth. He speaks so slowly when he’s talking to me, like he’s testing each word on his tongue before he says them. Like he wants to make sure he’s choosing the words he wants to say to me.

“Brody,” I say, getting choked up, but I can’t say much else.

He runs his fingers through my hair, suddenly silent.

I cherish these moments with him, because I was positive they would never come. I feel so close to him, when mere hours ago, I was grieving over the notion of never experiencing what it’s like to be with him. I know he hasn’t put a title on us, and I don’t expect him to. But I know he’s mine and I’m his and that’s more than enough.

I don’t need to change my relationship status on Facebook or tell all our business to the world. We’re together,

“I’m going to take you on a date. Next weekend. You won’t know where, and you won’t know when, but I’m going to take you out and show you a good time. You deserve it. You deserved it before I stole your innocence.”

Laughing, I swat his chest playfully.

“You can’t steal something that was offered up willingly. And I’m far from innocent, Mr. Durham.”