Torn Hearts

by M. E. Gordon

  Looking up at me, he raked the stray hair back in place. “I think you know damn well what they are, Miss Monroe,” he said evenly.

  “My name is Elizabeth,” I replied, annoyed that he was trying to make this funny or jovial. “I know what they are, jer--” I held back what I really want to say. “I want to know what they mean, what any of this means.”

  “They mean exactly what they say. What else would they mean?” he responded matter-of-factly.

  All right, that’s it. No more ms. nice girl! “Fine, you need it spelled out for you? Stop being a confusing, note dropping, word twisting, sexy-ass man and tell me what you want from me! You leave me notes and act all nice then disappear. I don’t know if you’re messing with my head, if you’re an escaped mental patient, or--craziest of all--if you’re actually into me. Jesus, I don’t know how much more of this back and forth, here today gone tomorrow, stay with this guy, give that one a chance, he likes you, he doesn’t like you, I can take,” I ranted until I had to suck in a breath of air.

  Closing my eyes, I rested my hands on the top of my head in frustration. I realized I had called him a “sexy-ass man,” during my five minute rant. Incredible. I would say something like that! I took a second to breathe and collect my thoughts.

  Within that second of retreat, strong arms wrapped around my torso and plush lips crushed mine with a sensual force I had never felt before. The feeling of being weightless came next as I was lifted off the ground. Instinct took over as I dropped all the papers that were clutched in my hand. I wrapped my arms tightly around Spencer’s strong neck, then wrapped my legs around his waist, and gave in fully, kissing him back, like I had done so many times in my dreams.

  All the frustration I had built for Spencer went right out the window the minute his mouth touched mine. The only thing I could concentrate on was his lips--and the fact that they felt so good against my own. Every single stolen moment, the catch of an eye, the graze of a hand, it had all led up to this.

  With one hand firmly under my ass and the other on the small of my back, he took the two steps to the desk and set me down, his lips still on mine. Our movements were as choreographed as a dance--how perfect that moment was. Taking only a second to look him in the eye, I stared back in amazement before he kissed me again. His hand rested against my waist and I wondered if he could feel the slight roll under the fabric of my dress. I did my best to sit up straighter, all the while praying that he didn’t notice. The worst thing that could happen was that he’d realize I wasn’t one of his typical, famous arm candies. Fuck! I don’t know what I’m going to do, because now that I’ve had a taste of him, I’m not sure anything will ever be as good.

  Breathing heavily, he slowed all his movements. Oh God, he felt it, the pudge roll. Please don’t leave me sitting here alone. He rested his forehead on mine, and I was so thankful that he didn’t turn and leave because that was by far the best first kiss I had ever had.

  “Oh, so you are crazy,” I said, finding my voice.

  We smiled at one another as I played with the collar of his shirt. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel weird or forced--no silent awkwardness. It just felt right. Being in his arms felt right.

  “No, I’m not crazy or so my doctor says, and I’m not messing with you either.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Really? Then why all the notes and awkward run-ins? Why didn’t you just talk to me, ask me on a date? I don’t understand.” I sat back from him, wanting my answers now.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I know--it’s just that you make me feel things, things I don’t--I haven’t let myself--you were always leaving or with someone. It was just never the right time,” he said brushing it off as if that was an acceptable excuse.

  Is he kidding me right now? Come on, he can’t be serious. How lame an excuse. I played back all of our little run-ins and he was kind of right, then there was Simon--oh God, Simon. Shoot me now. I’m a horrible person. Apparently, seeing my sudden change in body language, he took my hand in his.

  “I tried to keep my distance,” he noted, turning my chin with his fingers so that I was forced to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his. “I tried not thinking of you. Be the gentleman I was raised to be. But you were always there when I least expected it, even if you didn’t see me, I saw you, everywhere. At night, I’d close my eyes and you’d be there. I had to do something, so the notes were my way of dealing.”

  He held his head down as if he was ashamed of thinking about me. Well, that makes me feel peachy!

  I snatched my hands from his. “Dealing, so you’re dealing with me?” Oh, I am right. To him, I was just the annoying little sister of his business partners. “All right I’ve heard enough, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way since you don’t want to think about me, see me, or be in the same room with me. Like I said before, and what I honestly thought all along, you’re crazy and I’m even crazier for thinking that--”What was I thinking? That we’d end up together? Ha! Joke’s on me.

  With my hands on his strong chest, I tried to push him away.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, planting himself farther against me so I couldn’t move.

  “I’m trying to get off the desk so I can leave.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Too bad, playboy, I’m leaving.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am,” I replied, standing my ground.

  Just like before, he took me by surprise, only this time I saw it coming and I didn’t do shit about it. I saw him lean in that extra inch. I watched as his eyes closed, and his hand reached up to cup my cheek before his lips caressed mine for the second time.

  I ran my hands over his chest, feeling his stone-like muscles. Does this mean I haven’t been imagining everything and this is really happening? It really was his chest rising and falling beneath my hand, and it was his hand that was gripping my neck and drawing me in for more.

  Spencer pulled back and studied my face. Those were really his eyes looking back at me. I didn’t know what to say. He had me pinned there and, lord help me, I didn’t want him to let me leave.

  “Not leaving,” he said on a sigh.

  I nodded my head, agreeing with him, loosened his black tie, and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. My fingers sneaked inside, and I had to remember to act cool. If this was my one chance to do this, I wasn’t going to waste it. His chest was firm and solid. No doubt he worked hard to stay fit, but his skin was surprisingly smooth. I didn’t know if any of this was real. I could have woken up at any moment, but I knew right then that I didn’t want it to end. All thoughts of anything but Spencer Salvatore left my mind.

  I watched him as his eyes closed at my touch. I thought of what we had been missing out on for so long. If only he would have talked to me, told me.

  “You should have told me,” I said, stubbornly pulling my hand away from him as I sat back and crossed my arms in frustration at how things could have been so different.

  Taking a calming breath, he pulled back, too, removing his hands from me to rest them on either side of my hips on the desk. “I told you, I was trying to stay away. I thought it was better that way. I thought you were happy. I tried to find someone else, but something kept pulling me toward you. I know you feel it, too.”

  His voice turned raspy, almost needy as he rushed forward, grabbing the back of my nape. His possessive kiss took my breath away for a third time.

  His warm hand found my knee and moved up and under my dress. With his thumb latched tightly in my underwear, I sat up straighter trying to hide whatever imperfections I could. They were my tricks of feeling toned and I had a whole library of them. Inside, I was thanking myself for wearing lacy boy shorts rather than spanks. How embarrassing would that be if he couldn’t find my underwear because they were hiked up under my boobs? Thank God for small miracles.

  His hand moved painfully slow until it reached my core. Before I could even comprehend, his hand was on me. I felt my
underwear being ripped away and I watched as he discarded them on the floor. That’s not fair! He’s too sexy. He quickly slipped his hand back under my dress. I moaned as his warm fingers moved back and forth, petting me, before one sank deep inside me.

  I dropped my head back in pleasure and clutched the edge of the desk for dear life. I’d been touched my men or--should I say--boys before but, Spencer must have taken extra sex education courses, because he knew every stop and the exact amount of pressure to apply.

  Not much was going through my head at that moment, but the one thought that kept popping back up was that I couldn’t believe I was letting this man make mush out of me. Up until tonight, I had never been so ready so fast, or given it up so fast. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted and when I wanted it. Every man should enroll in whatever sex education courses he’s had. Within minutes of his hand being under my dress, I was on the verge of exploding.

  My hands left the sides of the desk, needing something else to grab onto. I clutched his shoulders, bringing my forehead to meet his while I rode his hand.

  “Come for me,” he said in a deep, seductive whisper.

  Ah hell, that’s it, I’m done for. Those three words had me clawing at his shoulders as I grinded into his hand harder. My sheath squeezed around him. Leaving his hand under my dress, he kissed my lips softly. I realized then that I wanted even more--more of him, more notes, more anything Spencer.

  Thinking I heard someone jiggle the door handle, I quickly came back to my senses. “I think someone is trying to come in,” I breathed. “Did you hear that?”

  Turning to look over at the door, I felt his arousal graze the inside of my thigh. The sudden urge to touch, see, even have that particular appendage inside me made me erupt with excitement. What is happening to me? I don’t think or talk like that. What the hell has Spencer Salvatore done to me? I’ve got sex on the brain!

  Praying my eyes had gone back into their sockets before he turned back, I was saved by the obvious knock at the door.

  “Okay, I heard it that time,” he whispered, stepping back. Grabbing me around the waist, he helped me off the desk.

  “Hey, who the hell is in here?” It was Teddy’s distinct voice from the other side as he tried to turn the handle.

  Spencer and I looked frantically at one another. He began buttoning his shirt and fixing his tie, while I fell to the ground to pick up the pieces of paper. I stood, straightening my dress, then ran behind the desk and grabbed my clutch, shoving the papers inside.

  “I said, who’s in here?” Teddy’s voice got noticeably louder.

  Striding over to the door, I put my hand on the knob. Glancing back at Spencer, I nodded, letting him know I was going to open it.

  Crap! My underwear! I quickly looked on the floor, but didn’t see them. Hopefully Spencer had gotten them. Turning back to the door, I undid the lock and opened it, looking up at Teddy who appeared to be on the verge of kicking in the door. He took a half step back, startled to see me. Taking a second to look me up and down, he then shot a look over my head at the man looming beside our father’s desk. I could actually see the blood rush to my once-calm-and-controlled brother’s face.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, looking across the room at Spencer then back down at me.

  “I was just showing Spencer dad’s old office. I always thought it looked so cool in here at night. Remember, like a disco ball when we were kids?”

  I knew Teddy wasn’t buying anything I was trying to sell.

  “Okay, Elizabeth, would you mind giving me a moment alone with Spencer?”

  Not knowing if I should stay by his side or leave him for Teddy, I looked apprehensively over at the man that I was ready to fight with my brother over. But Spencer simply nodded his head.

  “Fine, whatever,” I said, not giving either man a second glance.

  I strode out of the room and down the hall, feeling like a fool. Stopping at the end, I turned back to catch my brother’s other foot enter the room. Inching back up the hall, I saw that he’d left the door cracked. I moved close enough so I could hear what was being said.

  Not even starting with small talk, Teddy just got right to the point. “What are you doing with my little sister locked in a room?”

  “Nothing. She was just showing me around,” Spencer replied.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Spencer. I will not have you treating my sister the way you treat other women.”

  My heart dropped, questions popping in my head. The biggest one--other women?

  “She’s not a little girl. You can’t--” I heard Spencer take a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. “Listen, it’s not what you think. She’s not like any other woman I’ve been with. I care for her and she cares for me.”

  “Oh that’s rich, Salvatore. Glad to know you care for her. That makes it all better. Now cut the crap. You’re nothing to her and don’t you dare tell me what she is or isn’t. You don’t even know her. You’ve met her, what, two times?” Teddy paused and drew in a deep breath. “Let’s just finish this club. It’s a little more than two months away and, once it’s done, you can get the hell out of town and leave my family alone.”

  “And what if I choose to stay?” Spencer asked challengingly.

  “Fine, do what you want, stay, go. But if I see you near my sister again, I’m going to unleash a reign of fire on your perfect little persona. I’m not naïve. I do my research on people before doing business. I found some pretty incriminating stuff that you made sure to keep out of the public’s eye. You see, it’s actually rather simple, stay away and I keep quiet. Keep your troubled life away from my little sister. She’s seeing someone else, anyway. Have a little respect.”

  I waited to hear what Spencer said in response. I expected him to fight, call Teddy’s bluff, but I heard nothing, only the sound of Teddy walking out of the room. I leaned up against the wall as my brother stormed out, not even noticing me on the other side.

  A defeated looking Spencer followed, his jacket hanging over his arm. He stopped just outside the doorway. Stepping away from the wall, I stared at him, wrapping my arms tightly around my waist. The look in his eyes told me I was never going to be in his embrace again, and I was crushed.

  “You’re not going to listen to him are you?” I asked, desperation in my voice.

  “Miss Monroe, I’m very sorry. Your brother is right. I’m no good for you, and you’re with someone else.” He sounded all business and not like the Spencer I had just spent the last hour with.

  “I told you, my name is Elizabeth! And who the hell is he to say what I want or don’t want? I know you. I know enough to make a decision to get to know more of you. Spencer, I can’t function--in a good way, the butterflies and fireworks kind of way--when you’re around.”

  I was getting little, if any, reaction out of him, not even a smile, nothing. He was straight, poker faced.

  “I’ll leave him,” I continued in a rush. “I’m not even technically with him. I’m willing to take this chance with you.” I took a step closer.

  He smiled back! That’s a start. “Everything I told you or that you have heard is true,” he said. “Tonight wasn’t a mistake. It just made me realize I’m not as lost as I thought I was. I think I’m falling for you. But it’s safe to say you’ve changed me, woke me up. Thank you.” Placing his hand in his pants pockets, he turned to leave.

  What the hell? Here we go with Confusion 101 again. I thought for sure we’d passed this class already.

  “No! No,” I yelled, making him turn back around. “You can’t say that and then just expect to leave. I won’t let you! Jesus, you can’t keep doing this to me. Please, I’m begging you.”

  Sighing, Spencer finally walked back over to me. Running the back of his hand down my cheek, he ran it along my jaw as he kissed my forehead. “You are a stubborn woman. You make it hard to walk away, but--”

  Now, I’m pissed. I stepped back from him, pushing on his chest in frustration. “But what? Y
ou can’t tell someone you’re falling for them and then--nothing, you’re not even willing to try, give it a chance? Nothing?”

  Closing the distance between us, he dropped his jacket and pulled me tight against him, his hands firmly on my cheeks. I was taken aback by the fierceness in his voice when he spoke.

  “Damn it, Elizabeth. Just--” He crushed his lips to mine, his hand pressed firmly on the small of my back, pulling me painfully close, before letting me go and stepping back. He reached down and picked up his jacket, slinging it over his arm. “I have to leave.”

  As fast as it all started, it was over. Not saying another word, he turned and walked down the hall. I stood for a second until he rounded the corner. I made a mad dash for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Rushing into my childhood room, where I spent most of it crying over being teased or boys using me, I slammed the door shut behind me, leaning against it. My legs gave out from under me. I slid to the floor and sat sobbing like a baby. Spencer’s last words echoed in my head. How bitter sweet. He finally says my name, and it could very well be the last time I ever hear him say it.

  Chapter 14

  I lay on my bed for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling. I was able to get all my questions answered, but now there was a brand new set of them. It shouldn’t be this hard or complicated, right?

  Hearing a gentle tap on my door, I gave my eyes a final wipe.

  “Belle? Are you in here?” Simon’s voice was coming sweetly from the other side and the only thing I could think about was how I’d just royally screwed this up.

  “I’m here.” How am I going to do this? Should I even tell him about Spencer? Clearly anything with him was going nowhere, so why bring it up? It was done, I was done.