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BreakMeIn

Page 4

by Sara Brookes


  He was going to make a fucking fool of himself if he didn’t rein his libido in.

  Needing to do something, he blurted out the first thing he thought of. “I don’t want things between us to be…awkward.”

  “Alex, if I didn’t want to see or talk to you I wouldn’t have come in. We’ve been friends too long to stay mad at each other, I think.”

  “Not as though this is our first fight. You remember our first screaming match?” He smiled at the memory.

  “Yes. In fourth grade. Right after I moved to Gatlin Falls.” She sniffed, lifting her chin. “You and your friends were sitting around outside during recess. When I asked if I could join in, you said I needed to go play house with all the other little girls. Told me because I wore a skirt I wasn’t allowed to play with Transformer action figures.”

  “To which you retaliated by gluing all their joints with Super Glue. Ruined every single one of them.” A wicked smile curved up the edges of her mouth as her eyes sparked in the light. “Let me start this out by saying I’m sorry. Again. I didn’t mean for my actions to affect you. You have to know I would have never done anything like that intentionally.”

  “Yes, I do know. But why were you there, Alex?”

  “Seems obvious enough.”

  “I mean really. Why were you really there?”

  “I have questions. I thought I could find answers.”

  “You may have found some of those answers if you’d followed a few protocols and hadn’t decided Aimee needed saving from her Big Bad Dom.”

  He winced. “It was a gut reaction. I watched Mom and Patrick get slapped around for years. I could take the hits, but it tore a piece of my soul each time I saw my father do it. By the time he attacked Patrick out on the lawn and nearly tore off his arm there was nothing left inside me. I didn’t even care when they carted his ass off to jail. Took a long time to get over. Given my actions at the club, maybe I’m not as over it as I thought I was. How is she?”

  “Rick and I have been friends for a while. Before he ever starting coming to the club. I called him the next night to offer my own apologies and check on Aimee. Rick is a very competent and capable Dom so it isn’t as though I ever doubted his ability to handle a freaked-out sub. They’re both fine. Though annoyed they didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing any type of punishment carried out.” Folding her hands in front of her, she sighed. “I wished you’d talked to Patrick a little more before going. Deciding you want to know more about BDSM is one thing, following through is something else entirely.”

  “He was busy with the wedding. I didn’t want to bother him with my problems.”

  Her red hair brushed her shoulders as she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re family. You and I both know he would have taken the time for you no matter what. We both also know you’ve been going through a lot lately and we’ve offered more than our fair share of shoulders to lean on. You just have to take a step too and recognize hands are being extended to you in offering.”

  “All right.” Seeing his opportunity, he dove in. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “I can’t get you a membership to the club, Alex. Not now. Chaplin wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “I understand. At least I think I do.” He blew out a breath to steel himself for what he was about to do. For the possibility of what kind of adventures would lie ahead of him if she agreed to his crazy scheme. “Can you…show me?”

  A small crease formed between her eyebrows as she frowned. “Show you what?”

  “What you do.”

  Her formidable gaze held his for a few minutes before she shifted in the chair. “I design expensive buildings for people who have more money than they know how to count. You know that. You used to listen to me bitch about my professors enough at the university during all my architecture classes.”

  “I didn’t mean your buildings.”

  “I know you didn’t.” She moved to pick up the bag she’d dropped earlier, rustling through it in search of something. As he started to clarify even further she pulled a slip of paper from her bag and handed it to him. “Are you coming to Genevieve and Tony’s engagement party on Saturday night?”

  Talk about the not-so-subtle brush off. Gauging the abrupt shift in her attitude, he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his request if he persisted right now. Not as though he really blamed her after the way he’d acted. He probably would have given himself the cold shoulder. “Young, impetuous love.”

  “I hear they’re going to honeymoon in Ireland. Genevieve will finally get to meet the rest of the Fitzgerald clan.”

  “Do I see a glimmer of a hopeless romantic hiding behind your tough-as-nails exterior?”

  She smoothed her hands over her thighs again. “No, you’ve just entered the Twilight Zone.”

  “I should keep an eye out for strange things on the wing of my plane then?”

  “I still say John Lithgow rocked his role as John Valentine. Nightmare at 20,000 Feet freaked me out for years to come. Couldn’t fly for the longest time. Kept thinking I was going to look out the window and there that little gremlin would be.” She licked her lips, a move that had the power to turn him into nothing more than a gelatinous pile of goo ready to do her bidding. “So are you coming?”

  Not yet. But I would for…

  “Alex?”

  He cleared his throat, shifting in the chair as he did. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll be there.”

  “Great. It’s at the warehouse under Patrick’s apartment. I got a little carried away with the guest list. Needed plenty of space.”

  His gut clenched. Patrick and Allison’s wedding had marked the first time he’d stepped foot in the warehouse Patrick cherished so much. He knew what else went on inside those walls. Well, not firsthand. But he had a brain. And an imagination. One that seemed to be working overtime lately. Even as a teenager going through the rigors of puberty he hadn’t had the kind of amazing dreams that had been plaguing him.

  Being there during the reception had been hard enough. Once more he would have to be in the same space where Elena ruled with a gloved fist. He had to be there and not pine like some teenager lusting after the girl he couldn’t get. Or ever have thanks to his behavior. He’d have to settle for whatever scraps remained of their friendship.

  “So you should be there around eight since I’m telling them to be there around eight thirty. Want to make sure everyone is settled in and having a good time before they arrive.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” She rose, shouldering her bag after buttoning her coat. “See you there, then.”

  * * * * *

  The party was already in full swing by the time Alex arrived on Saturday. Elena had transformed the warehouse into a sparkling garden of lights. Small fountains burbled in each corner of the space while rail-style benches had been placed randomly through the room. It was as though he’d stepped into Central Park on a beautiful summer night.

  Soft and romantic.

  Timeless and classic.

  And just fucking perfect.

  He waved away the server who approached with a tray of champagne glasses, opting for the cash bar tucked discreetly into one corner. “Bushmills if you have it.”

  “Ten or twenty-one?”

  Leave it to Elena to serve top-shelf alcohol. What the hell, might as well live it up. The bartender served up a generous three fingers of the twenty-one-year whiskey.

  Alex turned, facing the crowd. The prospect of slapping a smile on his face and pretending everything in his life was hunkyfreakingdory wasn’t appealing. Instead he located an overstuffed sofa near the front entrance, sinking into it as he did his best to fade into the background. Couples milled around, chatting about whatever had their attention for the moment.

  For the most part they ignored him.

  He’d come to this event as a courtesy to Elena. Sure, he liked Genevieve Lambert well enough and she was one hell of a chef who had certainly made his mouth water more than once
with her delectable treats. But aside from the early morning deliveries she made to Perfect Shot, and the occasional meal at her restaurant when he and his ex-wife had dined out, he knew little about the woman.

  He knew even less about Anthony Fitzgerald, the owner of 616, the sole comic book shop in Gatlin Falls. Since Tony was one of Allison’s gamer friends he should have probably gotten to know him a bit more, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t have enough on his plate without adding social interactions to the list.

  He’d been a little preoccupied for the past year.

  Besides, he wanted the opportunity to talk to Elena again to convince her showing him the slice of her life she’d kept hidden away was one of the best ideas he’d ever had. As he lifted his glass to his lips the crowd parted, giving him the perfect view of the host of tonight’s festivities.

  It was as though the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

  His heart tripped at the sight of her utter perfection so available to his roving gaze. Black leather knee-high boots cupped her calves, the narrow heels elongating her shapely legs. Her simple black skirt dropped to just above her knees, the waist of the skirt sweeping up to disappear under the emerald-green top she wore.

  No, he corrected, not top—corset.

  She wore a white button-down shirt beneath it, offsetting the masculinity of the cut by lacing the tight leather corset wrapped around her shapely form. As she moved through the guests she’d invited he noticed there wasn’t a zipper to be found on the item, which meant she’d been laced in. It wasn’t the kind of corset a woman could get into by herself. Someone else had to have assisted her in getting ready for the party tonight.

  A flare of jealousy slapped at him, a black mark scoring his vision.

  The fingers clenched tightly around the glass itched at the thought of lacing her into the corset, shaping and molding her body into an exaggerated hourglass. His mouth watered at the thought of worshipping her for hours on end.

  And good Christ, those magnificent breasts.

  They were pillowed along the top of the corset, supported by the restraint of the leather. Even during the most casual—and vanilla—of events, she held a commanding air that called to him. She demanded to be noticed and to hell with anyone who didn’t like her forwardness.

  He liked the way her entire body moved as she served appetizers. She may not have realized it, but she doted on everyone. Checking to make sure everyone had what they needed as they waited for the happy couple to arrive so the party could really begin.

  He very much wanted to keep her satisfied.

  “You keep eye-fucking her and I’m going to have to wear a condom.”

  Shit. He hadn’t realized he was staring so hard. Sliding over to make room, he nodded in greeting to one of Patrick’s close friends, Dade Ellingson, as he dropped onto the couch next to him. “Just enjoying the party. Nothing to see here.”

  “Except she is the one you’re looking for.” Dade waved away the same server Alex had dismissed earlier. “You look…like a bulldozer ran over you.”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliment.” He scanned the crowd, looking over at the sea of faces he’d once spent time socializing with. Now he couldn’t care less if he talked to them. Though it appeared as if the feeling was mutual. Most of them hadn’t even given him the barest of glances. “Got a hot date or a few with you tonight?”

  “Flying solo.”

  A soft hush spread through the crowd, a signal the couple was approaching. Alex finished off the last of his whiskey and stood. “Ready to make nice?”

  “Not my scene. Not even sure why I came tonight.” Dade’s gaze flicked to the entrance as Tony and Genevieve spilled through the warehouse doors. “Looks as if someone has already started the party.” Dade pushed off the couch and vanished in the blink of an eye.

  Alex stared after Dade, wondering why the man’s mood had suddenly taken a nosedive and his social skills had evaporated. A cheer rang out as Tony grabbed Genevieve and dipped her back for a heated kiss, molding his hand to her ass as he did. She squealed for effect, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him tightly against her.

  “He’s been acting very odd lately.”

  Alex turned to find Elena, a tray of assorted fruit perched just above her shoulder. Everything inside him seemed to freeze as those breasts he’d admired just a few minutes ago were just inches from his body. How would her skin feel as he trailed the head of his dick over the generous swells? How would her voice sound as she ordered him to slip his cock between the soft valleys so he could fuck her tits…shit, have a little restraint, Conners. You’re in public.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat as he shook off the fantasy, using the last of the whiskey to wet his parched throat. “Fine. Who do you think is acting odd? Tony? Can’t keep his hands off his fiancée. Seems to me he’s doing just what a newly engaged man should.”

  She jerked her chin in the direction Dade had disappeared. “I meant the moody, morose one.”

  “Hasn’t he always been? At least Patrick seemed to indicate so.”

  “Hrm, it’s been more so than usual. Before Ryan and Beth set sail Ryan said he’d shut down even more, giving up on a hell of lot of things. Blocking everyone out. Won’t talk to anyone about anything at all. You’re lucky you got more than a hello. Must be the Conners’ charm.”

  The concern lining her face endeared him. She hurt for a friend. As people milled around he caught a glimpse of Dade standing off in the far corner. The cold steel of his gaze was something Alex recognized. Maybe Dade’s friends were too close to see what was truly going on, but the emotion from Dade’s body all but slapped Alex in the face.

  “I’ll have a talk with him, see if I can’t pry something loose.”

  “Would you? He—”

  “Can’t promise anything, but I’ll give it a try. Go, say hello to the happy couple for me.” Elena slowly wandered off, her concern for her friend evident in the way she glanced over her shoulder every few minutes. He was nearly jealous of Dade for capturing Elena’s attention so thoroughly.

  Detouring to the bar, he snagged two beers. He avoided a few pockets of people as he made his way to the corner and offered Dade one of the bottles. “Need a few more daggers to throw?”

  Dade’s gaze cut through him sharper than a sword. “Mind your own business, Conners.”

  Alex held his hands up. “No harm no foul, man. Just wondering how long you’re going to pine for the one who got away.”

  Dade snorted. “You’re as much of a pissant as your meddlesome brother. Don’t pretend you understand what’s going on in my head.”

  “Better than you think.” His gaze drifted to where Elena circled through the crowd. “Object of your affection doesn’t know you exist. Or does and you spend all your time wanting something you’re not sure if you should want. Makes you feel a little like being a confused teenager again waking up from a wet dream you don’t remember having but are wearing the sticky remnants of.”

  “Ah, I get it. Someone has their own head trip going on right now. Nothing is stopping you. Not as though you aren’t free now to pursue other avenues of interest.”

  “Sure wish it was so damn easy.” Alex faced Dade, smirking when the man’s gaze continued to track Tony and Genevieve as they socialized with their guests. Given what little he knew about Dade’s previous relationships, Alex couldn’t decide if he was pining like a puppy dog for the girl or the guy. Either way he was sure they could both use a breather. “Why don’t we get out of here? Something tells me this is the last place either of us want to be.”

  “Ain’t that the fucking truth?”

  Chapter Four

  The crowd at Brogans was in full swing tonight. A rowdy group with one singular focus was just the medicine Alex needed. Especially because the atmosphere at the sports bar had nothing to do with a celebration of love. The engagement party at the warehouse had been too much. Too vivid of a reminder of his failings
as a husband.

  Not the sort of reminder he needed.

  He’d been able to withstand Patrick’s wedding because it was his brother. But he had so small of a connection to Tony and Genevieve, tonight had nearly been torturous. And the way he kept fantasizing about Elena? There was only so much anguish a man could take before he broke.

  He was already hanging on by a very thin thread.

  “What’s your poison, boys?” Anne set a hand on her hip, waiting for their orders. Her cotton-candy-pink hair curled in loose waves, a few tips following the succulent curve of her very abundant breasts. Her legs were a mile long and capped by barely there shorts. No wonder Sam Flynn had hired her to tend the bar on Saturday nights.

  Her tips had to be killer.

  “Tequila with a chaser of beer.” Dade reached over the counter to snag two freshly frosted mugs. “Pitcher of house draft.”

  “Want the tequila bottle too?”

  “That’ll work.”

  “You got it, babe. Mexican Boilermakers coming up.”

  Alex watched her snag a pitcher from the cubby under the bar, the angle of her body giving him a perfect view down the front of her loose shirt. Deep-blue lace cupped her breasts, the visible curves nearly causing his mouth to salivate. She pulled the tap, wiggling her hips suggestively to the music pouring from the speakers.

  The noise of the bar faded into the background as he watched her move. He imagined himself draped over the bar, his wrists and ankles bound so he laid spread-eagle across the warm wood, his dick jutting toward the ceiling. The hard flesh strained against the steel bands of a cock cage surrounding him.

  Anne continued to work behind the taps even though there wasn’t a soul in the bar except for him. Her hand closed around the long neck of the handle, stroking it slowly as he watched in agony, the steel cage biting into the flesh of his cock as it jerked in response.

 

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