Battered Not Broken

by Rose, Ranae

  “You didn’t have to furnish the place at all,” Ryan said. “I want to pay my own way, with my own money. I’ll reimburse you for the moving expenses and the furniture after I get my feet on the ground at work and pay off some medical bills.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Consider the furniture a housewarming gift,” Patrick said, cutting off his wife. “It’s not a crime for us to give you one of those, is it?”

  A tendon on the side of Ryan’s neck stood out in sharper relief than usual as he chewed a bite of ravioli. “Fine. Thanks. But no more sending town cars. And no more extravagant gifts.”

  “Speaking of cars, yours is parked in the garage at our place,” Patrick said. “Ready for you whenever you’re able to drive again.”

  Ryan nodded, his frown easing a little.

  The mustang was another memory trigger, reminding her of nighttime drives down Baltimore streets and the vibrating hum of the engine beneath her thighs. Here in New York, her Maryland learner’s permit probably wasn’t valid. She could get a new one, but that would mean she’d have to continue her driving education in New York City. Not exactly a laid-back learning environment.

  Her driving worries were superseded by concern for Ryan when he raised a hand and rubbed his temple, massaging the curve of his skull with his palm. Maybe he was just stressed by his meeting with his parents, but the signal set off an alarm bell inside her. Her suspicion was worsened when the waiter stopped by their table to refill drinks and Ryan asked for a to-go box. He’d cleared less than half his plate.

  “You know, if the food’s not good, you don’t have to take it home,” Patrick said.

  “The food is good.” Ryan accepted the box that the waiter returned with. “But Ally and I have got to get going.”

  “Tomorrow,” Patrick said. “Let’s meet for lunch tomorrow, and we can discuss your prospects at Greene & Jacobs seriously.”

  “Right.” Ryan turned to face Ally. “You mind putting the rest of your food in here and finishing it when we get home?”

  “Sure.” She used her fork to scrape the unfinished half of her meal into the box. She’d eaten her fill anyway – the rest could be dinner.

  “I’ll call you and let you know where.” Patrick, who’d barely touched his own food, glanced toward the door.

  “Talk to you then.” Ryan picked up the box containing his and Ally’s food.

  When Ally rose from her seat, he placed his hand against the small of her back again, but there was a certain tension in his touch that hadn’t been there before.

  The warmth and noise of the restaurant followed them outside, then ceased as the door fell shut behind them and a cold breeze blew down the street.

  They took a cab home, a marked change from the luxury car that had driven them to the restaurant, but the ride went quickly.

  For Ally, anyway. The tendon standing out in the side of Ryan’s neck and the way he squinted against the afternoon light glaring through the taxi’s window made it clear that every moment dragged by for him.

  When they reached the apartment building and entered their new home for the second time, she hurried to the suitcase he’d left inside the door. “Where’s your medication?”

  “The front pocket – the one with the zipper.”

  She pulled out a bottle of pills and handed it to him.

  He opened it and took two without anything to wash them down.

  “Do you want a glass of water?” she asked.

  “No. I’m fine.” He replaced the cap on his bottle of pills and twisted it shut. “There’s something else I’d like, though.”

  “What?”

  He held up the take-out container and strode down the hall.

  She followed him to the kitchen, where he set the container on the counter and turned to face her. “I was thinking we could pick up where we left off. It could be good preventative medicine.” One side of his mouth curled in the faintest of smiles as he looked at her, his gaze already sending little shimmers of heat over her skin.

  Her entire body warmed and tingled. Nothing could have been as appealing as the idea of finishing what they’d started, knowing the pleasure would help to ward off his pain. She stripped – not quickly and not quite gracefully, but he seemed to enjoy the view and did the same.

  Naked except for her bandages and his cast, they embraced. His body was hot and firm. Feeling it pressed against hers was such a blissful reminder of home that the apartment began to feel a little more theirs the moment she detected his heartbeat, a steady thumping against her shoulder.

  He ran a hand from her shoulder, down over the curve of her back and below, cupping one half of her ass and drawing her close. She’d barely begun to enjoy the feel of his hard cock pressing against her belly when he shifted his arm, wrapping her in a one-armed hold and lifting her up onto the counter like he had earlier that day.

  The countertop was cool and smooth against her bottom, a bit of a shock against the ultra-heated lips of her pussy. She relished the little shiver that raced down her spine and made her skin pebble.

  “Guess I need to figure out where the thermostat is in here,” he said, teasing one of her hardened nipples with his fingertips.

  “Later,” she said. “Not now.” God, not now. She was hot enough on the inside, and it was the sort of heat that couldn’t be contained. It would make its way to the surface of her skin soon enough. The memory of Ryan’s lips, teeth and tongue between her thighs had stayed with her all throughout the lunchtime meeting, a tantalizing memory ever-present in the back of her mind, giving even her worry a faintly sensual undertone.

  “Later,” he agreed, his voice almost a growl. “The only thing I want right now is to be inside you.”

  He was already so close. The counter put her hips level with his and his hard cock reached for her. She’d spread her legs so that he could stand between them.

  He moved a little closer, the head of his cock brushing her clit, the light external stimulation sending a bolt of awareness straight to her core. “One second. I put a couple condoms in my wallet before we left for the airport.”

  It wouldn’t be long before they could give them up altogether. With that thought driving her steadily-increasing heart rate, she waited as he bent down, picked up his jeans and fished out his wallet.

  A few moments later he’d managed to sheathe his cock in latex despite the fact that his cast inhibited his movement. Lately, his fingers had become increasingly mobile, allowing him to resume tasks that had given him trouble directly after his accident. It had been a true pleasure to watch him roll the latex down the shaft of his cock again, his fingers gliding over and around the girth of it.

  Instead of letting go he gripped his erection by the base, guiding himself toward her again. The head of his cock brushed her clit, teasing her with another shot of sensation that quickly snowballed into bone-deep want. Then he was at her entrance, exerting stirring pressure against the lips of her sex.

  She gave in to desire and rocked her hips the tiniest bit, urging him in and causing her clit to bump the crown of his dick again. She’d been damp since he’d eaten her pussy and was fully wet again, her skin so slick that his member glided easily against it, almost slipping in.

  He flexed his hips, tunneling inside in one long stroke.

  The pressure was instantaneous, lighting her up from the inside as he stretched her walls, reclaiming space that shrank when he wasn’t present and tightened at even the memory of his touch. She sighed and tipped back her head, reveling in the feeling of simply being filled by him. No movement, no friction – it was bliss just to feel her inner muscles giving enough to accommodate him, then seizing up in involuntary response, her body’s way of trying to milk pleasure out of him, too.

  He took her breath away when he moved, pulling back and delving deep inside her again.

  She wrapped an arm around his waist and gripped the muscled plane of one ass cheek, letting her nails bite into the solid lower curve of i
t. It was just as effective as balancing herself with a hand against the counter, and a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

  He groaned and rocked his hips again, letting her feel the way his muscles shifted beneath her palm as he sent the head of his cock plunging toward the farther reaches of her pussy, the place where she most craved his touch.

  That and one other place, which he found when he placed a hand between her thighs, pressing the pad of his thumb against her clit like it was a button that would give instant pleasure if pressed. With the way his touch affected her, that was close enough to the truth. She trembled as he worked her clit with a thorough massage, his touch complementing the rhythm of the strokes he took her with, going deep with each thrust and rubbing hard without pause.

  Her excitement quickly gave way to a shuddering climax that radiated from her core all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. The countertop was hard beneath her, his body firm between her thighs and his cock rigid inside her. The combination left no room for soft sensations or edges – the pleasure that seized her was as unyielding as the surface they were fucking on. It made her arch and groan, trying and failing to say his name as inarticulate sounds spilled from her lips instead.

  He groaned too, like he usually did when she came, as if her pleasure pushed him to the edge, too. Still, he maintained his focus, fucking and touching her with such astonishing precision that her pleasure went on and on, eventually waning to a trickle of ecstasy that kept her tense on the edge of the counter, her breath coming in short bursts.

  After withdrawing his hand, he slowed his pace, rocking in and out of her in a gentler but purposeful way. “Are you okay?” he asked, cupping the back of her skull and threading his fingers through her hair as he met her eyes.

  “Yes.” She was still gripping a handful of his ass – something she’d all but forgotten about in the frenzy of her climax. The hard countertop might not have been the most traditionally comfortable surface in the world, but the way it allowed him to penetrate her was so distracting that she couldn’t have cared less.

  “Good. I want to keep going.” He used his hold on her hair to guide her mouth to his. After a deep kiss, she was breathless again. “I want to keep going for a while – I want to stay inside you until it hurts not to come.”

  She rocked her hips in reply, adding her energy to his in an effort to show, not tell, that she was more than willing. The fact that being inside her combated his pain was something she couldn’t forget and would never regret. She’d started glowing on the inside the first time he’d told her and she hadn’t stopped since. Maybe it was a sort of medicine, but it was much more than physical.

  They broke in the new kitchen in a way that a hundred meals cooked within its walls wouldn’t have done. By the time Ryan swore, said her name and came with a groan that echoed off the walls of their mostly-empty home, it had become Ally’s favorite room in the apartment.

  Chapter 26

  The panoramic windows in the living room framed the city lights beyond their panes like an ever-moving and flashing picture. Curled on the couch, Ally let the sea of darkness, shadow and illumination dazzle her tired eyes. There were buildings she’d never looked at before and cars going to places she didn’t know, their taillights red dots in the night. Everything was new, as were some of the feelings swirling inside her. Others were old, the emotional detritus of the past six years.

  “Hey.”

  Ally jumped, though the voice calling to her from the center of the room was very familiar.

  Ryan had entered the room as silently as a ghost. It was the first time he’d left the bedroom for hours. The bed and linens his parents had chosen had proven useful after he and Ally had finished making love on the kitchen counter earlier that afternoon. In an effort to dodge the worst of his migraine, he’d passed out in the bed while he’d still been feeling the natural high of extremely satisfying sex.

  “Hey.” Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough that she could see him fairly well, though none of the apartment lights were turned on. “How do you feel?”

  “Pretty good.” He crossed the space between them and settled down on the couch. “What are you thinking about?” He met her gaze in the darkness, proving that his eyes had adjusted just as well to the lack of light.

  “Manny,” she said, because it was true. She’d called her mother and Melissa that afternoon and let them know that she and Ryan had arrived safely, that their apartment was great and even furnished already, so on and so on. But there was no getting in touch with Manny, even for a quick word, nor would there ever be again. Her mind hadn’t quite adjusted to the fact yet, and kept balking at the notion every time she remembered that he was dead, her thoughts automatically flashing back to his funeral.

  “Mmm.” Ryan’s reply was a wordless sound that managed to imply both understanding and concern.

  Carlos had attended the funeral, too. Seeing him there had been the closest Ally had been to him in years. She’d expected to be enraged at the sight of him, but by the time the service had actually occurred, she’d clung fiercely to the emotional shock that had beset her, using it as a shield against strong emotion. Days and hours away, in New York City, the shock was fading.

  Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture that held an edge of sensuality simply because it was always that way when he touched her. “I hope you’re not still beating yourself up over what happened to him. You’re not to blame for the way he chose to live his life or the way it ended.”

  “I know that. Consciously, I know that. But subconsciously, it’s a different story.” Doubt had a way of weaving through her mind unnoticed, like a ghost that lingered undetected and leapt out during the darkest times, scaring the hell out of her. “Sometimes I feel guilty, even when I know I shouldn’t.” The battle between knowing and feeling was one she’d first become acquainted with six years ago. It was an old fight, and one she was tired of.

  He rubbed his hand across her back, his fingertips caressing the bumps of each vertebra.

  “You know what I mean, don’t you?” She continued to stare out the window. “You said something to me not long ago about feeling guilty over how your time in the military ended and the fact that you couldn’t go back. But it ended because of an explosion. You didn’t have any control over that. It just happened to you, and you couldn’t have stopped it. It’s not your fault that you were hurt, or that you weren’t hurt as badly as some of the others.” Survivor’s guilt – she’d realized that he had it during their visit to Quantico. “And you know that it doesn’t make any sense to feel guilty, right?”

  He continued to rub her back, slipping into a massage that eased the tension out of her shoulders and spine. “Yeah. I guess I know what you mean.”

  He dreamed like she did – at night, his mind refused to rest, turning instead to memories of the past, which it shattered and distorted before attempting to reassemble the pieces into a more acceptable version of reality. He knew, and she knew he knew. In a way, that was deeply comforting.

  “Tell you what, though.” His voice glided over her like his hand, the sound as welcome as his touch was soothing. “I’ll give this fresh start my best try if you will. It might not be easy, but things worth doing usually aren’t. Maybe in time the things that happened in other places – Baltimore, Afghanistan, wherever – won’t be something we think about every day.”

  “Deal.” She leaned back into him, resting against his chest. He couldn’t continue the massage in that position, but that was okay. Things might not be easy the next day, or the next, but resting against him in that moment felt easy, felt right.

  “You ready to come to bed?” he asked, stroking a lock of hair away from her cheek. “Or is this your subtle way of telling me that you want to break in the living room like we broke in the kitchen?”

  She smiled despite the things she’d been contemplating only minutes ago. “That’s up to you. If we don’t do it tonight, I’m sure we’ll get around to it tomo
rrow.”

  He slid a hand lower, cupping one of her breasts through the t-shirt she’d donned for sleep. “Who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to the bed at some point.”

  * * * * *

  The movers had delivered boxes of Ryan and Ally’s belongings to their Brooklyn apartment that morning. There weren’t that many of them, really. Neither of them had many things. Mostly, the boxes contained clothing. Ally had rooted through one of her own until she’d found something that looked semi-presentable but didn’t need to be ironed. And then, clad in a jersey knit dress, leggings and boots, she’d descended from the apartment to await the arrival of a town car.

  Ryan had already left for his meeting with his father. A few minutes after his departure, Ally’s phone had rung with a call from Cecilia, who’d suggested that she and Ally have a lunchtime meeting of their own.

  Though it was doubtful that Cecilia’s timing – which had been just late enough that she could contact Ally without Ryan knowing and objecting to their meeting – had been a coincidence, Ally hadn’t had the heart to disagree.

  Sleek and black, the town car was much like the one that had been sent for them the day before. Ryan might not like the idea of his parents providing upscale transportation, but faced with the prospect of her first solo outing in the new city, Ally wasn’t about to object.

  And as it turned out, she wouldn’t even have to ride alone. Cecilia was already in the car, looking polished in a long coat that belted around her waist, covering all but her slender legs, which were hugged by dark hosiery that nearly blended in with the black leather seats.

  “I hope your first night in your new apartment went well,” Cecilia said as Ally climbed in beside her.

  Ally had spent half the night on the couch and half the night in bed, completely entangled with Ryan in both locations. As she leaned back against the seat, her skin tingled where he’d rubbed her back the night before, the memory a phantom touch that sent a potent bolt of emotion straight to her core. The deal she’d made with him echoed through her mind.