Break You

by Jennifer Snyder

  My head snapped to where he’d pointed so quickly, the movement jerked my body with it and I stumbled. Losing my footing, I nearly toppled into the river. Jason reached out and steadied me, his large hands gripping my forearms.

  “Whoa there,” he chuckled.

  His face was inches from mine. His warm hands still gripped my arms. I straightened my stance to a firmer one, but he still didn’t let go. Our stare became fused together as electricity zapped beneath my skin from the contact I’d been craving all night.

  “Thanks for catching me.” A giggle built in my chest, but the second I saw his tongue slip out and lick at his bottom lip, it disappeared.

  “No problem.”

  His hands slid free from my arms only to grip my hips firmly. My heart pounded from their sudden shift in placement. Jason’s jaw moved as he bit at the inside of his cheek. I wondered for a moment if this was a nervous habit of his or if he was simply wondering whether now was the time to take me home.

  I didn’t want him to take me home. I wasn’t finished with this night—with him—just yet.

  With the courage that came from drinking three Long Island Iced Teas and the yearning that pulsated through my body from his nearness, I did what I wanted—I arched my body into his and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft; his breath tasted of spicy liquor, and I knew I was right where I’d wanted to be a million times in my head—locked in Jason Bryant’s arms with my lips pressed to his.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JASON

  I’d been debating whether I should kiss her as I’d held her in my arms. The moment felt right, but I didn’t want her to think I’d taken advantage of her later when she reflected back on tonight, so I’d hesitated.

  Did I want to kiss her? Yes.

  Did I want to do more than simply kiss her? Hell yes.

  But I wasn’t some asshat who took advantage of a girl after she’d had a few drinks, because she was beautiful and I was horny.

  Call me old school, but I’d had the intentions of being a gentleman tonight…even if I had played some serious cards to get this date with her in the first place.

  I’d been thinking all of this when Blaire had taken the initiative and pressed her sweet lips to mine, deciding where the night would go all on her own.

  The desire to crush my lips against hers and allow my hands to roam as they wished across every curve of her body slammed into me, but I fought it. Instead, I softly brushed my lips against hers and savored the taste of them on my tongue. My hands loosened their grip on her hips and migrated up her body toward her face, brushing against the outer curve of her breasts with my thumbs in the motion. A shiver slid through her and the sound of her breath catching in her throat let me know she enjoyed the sensation as much as I did.

  My hands came up to cradle her head. Pressing my tongue into her sweet mouth a little deeper, I felt her hands fist my T-shirt. Things I wanted to do to her, places I wanted to touch her, made a certain member of mine stiffen. Taking a few steps backward, I steered us off the rock and into the grass I’d intended for us to sit and talk on when I’d suggested us coming here.

  Well, maybe I had planned for us to do a little more than talk, something along the lines of what we were doing right now actually. If things had happed to go further I’d thought it would be awesome, but that was as far as I’d planned this river-side move out.

  Blaire separated her lips from mine and began to trail them along my neck. They were soft, and warm, and wet. I froze with my hands still tangled in her hair. Wasn’t that supposed to be my next move? Her tongue darted out and ran along the length of my neck, making the stiffness in my shorts become almost too much to bear. I let out a groan and closed my eyes. My hands fell to her hips.

  Damn, this girl knew what she was doing.

  Even if she didn’t know that happened to be my spot—the spot a girl could kiss and get me to do whatever the hell she wanted, because that spot turned me on so fucking badly it was unbelievable—she still knew how to work that tongue of hers. In my mind there was a list of about a million things swarming around, buzzing like little bees—doubts, desires, worries. Keeping my hands locked on her hips and my eyes closed, I inhaled Blaire and felt my list begin to fizzle from the depths of my mind.

  Her hands found their way beneath the edge of my T-shirt. They were cold and soft against the harsh hotness of my stomach. I was burning for her. When her lips found their way back to mine, I flicked my tongue deeper into the recesses of her mouth. The sound that hummed from her was such a turn-on. It took all I had not to lay her down in the grass and go at it.

  But I resisted, even when I felt her thumbs slip beneath the waistband of my shorts, tracing the lines that formed a V leading straight to my other brain…the one urging me to let it take control of this moment for me. This would only go as far as Blaire wanted it to. I knew she’d had enough to drink tonight to feel a little tipsy and free.

  My hands glided along the back of her arms as we continued to kiss. Each stroke of our tongues against each other pulled me to the brink of not being able to control myself, but I still allowed her to set the pace. I wanted this. I wanted her. I had since I saw her at the party that night. Hell, I’d wanted her before that, she just didn’t seem to be my type back then. She was one you had to work to be with…the type where nothing would come easy. She wasn’t easily swindled into bed or situations. She was smart, and girls as smart as her had intimidated the shit out of me back then. Hell, sometimes they still did. But yet, here she was. In my arms. Kissing me and doing everything I never thought she’d do on a first date.

  My hands came up to brush lightly against the tops of her shoulders. I trailed my fingertips against the soft skin of her collarbone in a feather-light touch. A moan escaped her and I thought it would be my undoing right then. Her fingers tugged and pulled at the button of my shorts. An electric current zapped through me at the realization of what she was attempting to do—get me naked.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked. My hands fell to her hips again. “We don’t have to do this tonight. We can stop now or at any moment you like.” The words came out with a struggle, because stopping was the last thing I wanted to do, but if she told me to than I would.

  “I want to.” Her words were hot and breathy. There had never been a sound sexier. “I want you.” Until she’d added in that part. And just like that, I was hard as a rock and all of my inhibitions were gone. They’d faded into the night.

  Pulling back to look at me, Blaire stopped in her motion to undress me. Her eyes locked with mine and I caught a glimmer of wariness twinkling in them. “Do you want to do this?” Her voice didn’t match her eyes. It was too naughty and husky sounding to match with the timid look flashing in them.

  “Yes,” I growled out and crushed my lips to hers like I’d wanted to from the beginning. Maybe it was a distinct enough answer for her to not question me again.

  She didn’t. Instead, she unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them to my ankles. Reaching around, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground, revealing a matching lacy bra and panty set. I couldn’t tell the color in the dark, but I had no doubt they were dark. Tugging my T-shirt off, I tossed it to the ground on top of my shorts and stepped out of my boxers.

  Someone cranked a car from the parking lot above us. Their headlights illuminated where we were for all of two seconds before they backed out of their parking space and disappeared. It was all the light I needed to see that her matching bra and panty set indeed were a dark shade of blue.

  A giggle burst free from her. “Do you think they saw us?”

  I glanced up at the parking lot and then turned my gaze back to her. “Not a chance.”

  Pulling her close, I tugged her down onto the cool grass. Her lips pressed against mine, eager to pick up where we’d left off. My lips twisted against hers in a smirk as she squirmed and wiggled beneath me so I could unhook and remove her bra. Next came her delicate panties. Before I knew it, Blaire
Hayes was beneath me, completely naked, and I was rubbing and sucking on places I’d only touched her while I was dreaming.

  This was honestly not what I’d prepared for earlier when I’d thought of how tonight would go. My hands slipped across the smooth skin of her inner thigh and I pressed her legs apart a little more, allowing me room to get closer. She arched her back and bucked against me.

  Prepared for! Shit. I hadn’t brought a condom with me.

  Normally I stashed one in my wallet when I thought there was a possibility I’d get laid on a date, but I hadn’t seen that as a true possibility tonight. Not with Blaire. I figured we’d have a few drinks and then plan for another date if things went well. Hell, I’d thought Blaire was a three date or more kinda girl, not a first nighter. I had her pegged wrong. Dead wrong.

  Her hand stroked against the very place I’d wanted her to since she’d kissed me. My mind exploded with desire and my heart rate increased tenfold.

  “I don’t have anything,” I groaned out.

  The words literally burned my throat and caused my chest to tighten as I admitted that little truth aloud. I knew what I would have to endure after they’d left my mouth—the pain that would ache for a while from not being able to release properly. My stomach clenched at the thought.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m on the pill.” Her breath was hot against my ear.

  My skin prickled with shock. Had she really just given me the okay? Her lips pressed against the sensitive spot along my neck again as her hand gripped me and before I knew it, I was lined up just right without having to move myself.

  “Are you sure about this?” It was the last thing I wanted to ask in the moment, but I knew I needed to. I was a damn gentleman, after all.

  With her legs wrapped around my waist, I licked and sucked along her neck like she’d done to mine. The little moans that sprang from her made me smile, and I stiffened a little more in her hand. Her hips bucked up and then I was inside her. The protest on my lips died away and I lost myself in the moment, without any hope of stopping what was happening.

  “I’m sure,” she whimpered against my shoulder as I took over the rhythm.

  Her gesture had been enough, but her soft, moan-filled words ripped at any hesitation I might have had flickering in the back of my mind, turning it into shreds and making this the best first date ever.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  BLAIRE

  I awoke to my phone going crazy. Sunlight streamed into my eyes, telling me it had to be nearly lunchtime. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so late. The incessant ringing continued in the background, echoing off the walls to my bedroom and nearly driving me insane.

  Sitting up, I glanced around. The phone was on my dresser—still nestled in my wristlet. A smile twisted at my lips, because all I could think of when I looked at it now was Jason and the comment he’d made about it last night.

  Pulling myself from bed, I stumbled over and swiped it off the dresser. Diane—my boss from work—was calling. Shit. Sliding my thumb across the screen to answer, I pressed my entire wallet to my ear without thinking.

  “Hello?”

  A sigh of relief met with my ear. “Blaire, I’m glad you answered. I’ve been trying to find someone to come in and cover Melanie’s shift. You’re the first person who’s answered their phone. Do you think you could come in? I can have her swap out with you for…” There was a long pause and a ruffling of papers. She must have been flipping through the calendar schedule. “How about next Friday? That would give you a three-day weekend before we toss you back on the weekend schedule.”

  I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. Why had I answered the phone so quickly when I’d seen her name? Why couldn’t I have been like the others she’d called and not answered?

  “If I work for Melanie today…then she’ll take my shift next Friday?” I repeated, hoping I’d understood her correctly.

  “Yes, not this coming Friday, but the next. I’ll put a Post-it note on the computer right now for when Gwen makes the schedules,” Diane said.

  I let out a little sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there at two then.”

  “Ah, thank you! We really need you today, it’s bath day.”

  Great. Melanie had better cover for me next Friday, because today was going to suck. Big time.

  * * * *

  The green Jell-O wiggled and moved as I walked, carrying the tray of Mrs. Whitley’s food across the dining-room floor. How people actually ate the stuff was beyond me, just the sight of it made my mouth taste bitter. Lime was not my favorite flavor. As for Mrs. Whitley, she’d rather die than live without it.

  After placing the standard round burgundy tray on the cream-colored tabletop, I moved to tug a chair out for Mrs. Whitley. Holding on to the back, I waited for her to sit, standing as straight as I could with a smile on my face. This was part of the act we played, the nurses. Whether we’d been smacked more than we could count in a day or crapped on in the last few hours, we still had to paste a smile on our face and carry on as though those things hadn’t happened for the sake of the resident we were currently assisting. Being Debbi Downer or Grumpy Gus only intensified their already unstable emotional frame of mind, tipping it to mirror our own. They were like sponges—they soaked up whatever we put out. Most of them anyway.

  Mrs. Whitley wrapped the bright pink cardigan she wore tighter around her tiny frame and slipped into the chair I’d pulled out for her without so much as a thank you. She was always a Grumpy Gus. I would be too if I’d been dropped off here by my children to die, which was pretty much what her five children had done with her. Out of sight, out of mind. Some of the residents received regular visitors from various members of the family, but not all.

  Mrs. Whitley happened to be one of those whose family never came to visit. She’d been dropped off about six months ago and had had two visitors since. I watched her as she picked up her fork and stabbed at her green Jell-O.

  “It is as good as yesterday?” I asked.

  Making conversation always seemed like a must during my feeding duties. Some nurses sat and never said a word to the resident as they watched them eat, but I felt like holding a conversation was the least I could do as I monitored their food and drink intake.

  “No,” she snapped.

  Pursing my lips together, I nodded. “Okay.” Not the answer I got last time I asked about the lime Jell-O, but maybe the bitter taste had finally caught up with her.

  “Did you do anything exciting today? I saw they had a new puzzle set out on the table in the game room, did you start it?” Mrs. Whitley was the puzzle master of Cross Meadows. I was pretty sure she needed to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for holding the fastest time or something.

  “No,” she snapped again.

  Today obviously was not a good day for Mrs. Whitley. It hadn’t been a good day for me either, so I could relate. Mr. Harold had nearly punched me this morning when Sabrina and I had attempted to lift him and take him to the bathroom for a bath. You’d think that with only getting a bath three times a week the residents wouldn’t put up a fight, but they did. I assumed it was because they had no control over anything…not even bathing themselves. Everything was monitored, right down to if they took a dump and how firm it was.

  As Mrs. Whitley finished off her meal, I marked on my food intake sheet the percentage of the meal she’d consumed. Then I waited and watched closely to how much she drank before converting the ounces into CCs. I understood how debilitating this must seem to them, but it was necessary. We had a process and this was part of it.

  After helping two more residents to their spot in the dining room and charting their food intake, I then went to the laptop connected to the wall of my hall and added everything into the system before taking a much-needed mental break. My mental breaks at work were always the same—a Kit Kat from the vending machine, a water, and Facebook.

  I intended to see if Jason had messaged me, considering we had yet to exchange phone
numbers—why on Earth were we solely corresponding through the usage of Facebook? I really needed to message him for his number.

  When the page updated, my heart shrank and heaviness entered my limbs. He hadn’t messaged me all day. Did this mean something? Was he too busy, or had he forgotten the hot sex by the river we’d both taken part in last night? I hadn’t…but guys were different. That was not something I normally did, I did not have one-night stands. It was trashy and I was not trashy.

  Scrolling through my news feed, I realized Jason was most definitely too busy to correspond with me on Facebook. While I had been at work getting snapped at and nearly knocked out around every corner, he was allowing slutty Marla Danes to sit in his lap and kiss him while at some other bar. Checking out things in the background, I came to the conclusion they must be at Blue’s in Coldcreek, because I recognized the bartender from the few times I’d been there.

  Awesome. Last night had meant nothing to him. I was just another notch in Jason Bryant’s belt of women. I was glad I hadn’t messaged him for his number, because I sure as shit didn’t want to talk to him again.

  Ever.

  Cramming my phone back into my oversized pocket, I crumpled up my Kit Kat wrapper and chucked it into the trash can. It was time to make my rounds and see if my assigned residents were in bed yet.

  I checked on Mr. Harold first. Poking my head into his room, I noticed he was sitting in the chair beside the window. He was unmoving; the last glimmers of pinkish-orange from the setting sun lit his face and a patch on the floor of his dark room. I flicked on the light and made my way inside the room.

  “Mr. Harold, are you ready for bed?” I asked in a low voice. When he didn’t answer I tried again a little louder. “Mr. Harold? Are you ready for bed?”

  “Yes,” he said. His hands rose limply into the air, as though he were waiting for me to lift him. “I’m tired.”

  “I bet you are,” I said. Sometimes I wondered if sitting around, doing absolutely nothing wasn’t what brought these people to their graves.

  “I thought Johnny would come today for sure,” he muttered as I helped him from the chair and into his bed. “I didn’t mean to be ill earlier, Blaire. I was just disappointed Johnny didn’t come like I thought he would.”