Broken Love

by Ghiselle St. James

  He makes me whole, but what have I given him? Nothing but complication.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ben asks. I didn’t even realize he had stopped chanting and was now staring at me.

  “Huh? Nothing. Just how free and happy I feel.” I smile, trying to throw him off my insecure trail.

  He smiles even wider and kisses my forehead.

  “I only want you happy, Delilah. Happy and safe; and I’ll do anything to keep you happy because when you’re happy, I’m happy and everything is right in the world.” Swoon.

  Taking the hand he is now using to lovingly stroke my cheek, I kiss his palm. My heart swells for the man in front of me. His eyes glitter with all the love I know he has for me.

  “Why me?” I ask sheepishly. I will never understand it. I will never understand why men the likes of Jared and Ben ever loved me. “What do you see in me?”

  A small smile plays on his features and his eyes gleam.

  He kisses me chastely before he answers, “When I look at you I see everything I’m not: kindness, beauty, strength, perfection.”

  “What?” I gape at him. He must be crazy. Perfection? With the life I’ve lived and the things I’ve been through, I’m the polar opposite of perfection. And beauty? That shit is relative. Don’t even get me started on strength.

  “Baby,” he begins, still with that smile that melts my heart. “You have the purest, kindest heart. I’m a fucking ogre and you showed me that with your kindness and the way you treat people. You give and you don’t expect anything back. And the work you did with those kids at the center…” Ben trails off, shaking his head. “Just amazing, Delilah.”

  Okay, well that I know. It’s easy to care for others. It’s me I have a problem with. If I can take other people’s pain, I would be happy, because pain I can deal with. I hate seeing people treated like dirt or hurt. As for the kids? I know what it’s like to grow up in a world where people only set out to take advantage of your innocence. If I can give them any ounce of hope, any chance at a future, it’s worth it to me. They deserve a second chance. My parents gave that to me.

  “And, baby, your beauty is unmatched. When you looked at me from across the room at that Christmas party, damn…I considered it a compliment. Out of all the men there, those gorgeous eyes found me.” He strokes a long finger from the corner of my eye to my jawline.

  My heart is beating faster now. I haven’t had someone say things like this to me since Jared.

  “God, and that smile? I want to tattoo that smile on my heart.” My heart is fluttering again. “When those cheeks of yours lift with that soul-searing smile, I just want to pinch them.” He reaches up and does exactly that.

  “No, that’s not weird at all,” I tease, rolling my eyes and rubbing my cheek.

  “Smartass,” he quips, but continues. “Your smile brightens everything around you and eradicates the darkness of my soul.”

  “What would make you think your soul is dark?” I ask, stepping into psychoanalysis mode. I know self-loathing when I hear it. I’m an unhealthy subscriber.

  “I just mean you’re better than me, Delilah. I’m a douchey, bratty, entitled piece of shit, remember?” he jokes.

  I laugh with him, enjoying the sound of his laughing voice. It sends peace in my soul, everything he does makes me right somehow. The last time I heard a man speak so highly of me was Jared, who had died before I could even build a proper life with him. It’s difficult to hear, to be honest.

  “Delilah, I don’t want you doubting me.” I bring my focus to his green eyes and see the stern look in them. He always sees what I don’t want him to see.

  He takes my hands and it feels so comforting. I could do this forever, or however far forever takes me.

  “Delilah, your strength baffles me. I don’t have to ask to know that you’ve been through a lot, but here you are – a walking, talking, smiling, singing, dancing pillar of strength. You fight, baby. In the face of insurmountable odds, you stay strong. God, it blows me away sometimes. Look at what you did with Rick. You survived him twice, babe.”

  Wow. I never thought of myself as strong. I always thought I was weak. Weak to allow those things to happen to me when I was just a kid. Weak to turn to hard drugs. Weak for not giving Ben the one thing he wants: for me to open up to him.

  With him talking like this, I almost believe it.

  “Stop, baby,” he admonishes. I should’ve known he’d work his Jedi mind read on me. “You are strong. God, you’re my fucking hero. Do you realize what you did to disarm Rick, shoot his ass and actually have control of the situation even from a sitting position? You’re fucking Wonder Woman!” he exclaims, nudging me with his shoulder.

  I laugh at that. Wonder Woman…yeah, right.

  “Thank you, Ben. I feel even stronger with you,” I tell him. “You make me…whole,” I whisper that last part, not believing that I’d just said that. No truer words have ever been spoken.

  Ben fills a void in me that was missing. Jared touched the surface, but Ben…he’s so deeply entrenched inside of me and has planted himself in my heart, that it’s hard to uproot him. When all of this is over, it’s going to be difficult getting over him, if I do any at all. He’s ruined me for all men where love is concerned.

  This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve always wanted. This is what I’ve been running from. This is what I’ve been afraid of. When we break up, I’ll be done for.

  “Delilah,” he whispers, reaching over and locking me in his warm embrace.

  My name on his lips is a lullaby to my dark thoughts, laying them to rest.

  For now, I’ll enjoy this. I know it’ll end someday. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t sabotage any happiness I find. Until that happens, I’ll enjoy the ride; enjoy being totally, completely, unequivocally, in fucking-head-over-heels-heart-beats-faster-and-slower-at-the-same-damn-time…Love.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Ben

  I jolt awake in the middle of the night and my mind immediately goes to Delilah. Feeling the space next to me, I blow out a relieved breath, finding her passed out in slumber.

  I’m scared.

  I’m afraid of losing her. Afraid if I close my eyes and reopen them, she won’t be there. Afraid that if I let her go, she’ll float away from me, leaving a gaping hole where my heart had shattered irreparably. I’d never survive it.

  It has been a maddening worry for me. I have never been afraid of losing someone; especially a woman. Women have always been disposable for me, but Delilah…she threw me for a loop. She’s become my addiction, a necessity to my existence, and I know that she loves me. I believe her when she says it. I’ve known it for a while now and I’m confident in her love for me; I trust that love with every fiber of my being. So, why the worry?

  I know why. Rick. Fucking sick prick, Rick.

  He had to plant that bullshit in my mind…and I had to give it a second thought. I shake my head and run a hand down my face in frustration.

  Why am I letting him get to me?

  He only said those things to get me to start worrying. He’s a discarded, obsessed ex-lover. He’s just jealous that what I have with Delilah is more real than anything he could have ever had with her.

  I look at the sleeping beauty next to me, with the moon casting a dreamy illumination on her silhouette. My wariness of what Rick said could drive us apart. I don’t want it to, but it could. If only I could be guaranteed forever with her.

  “Baby?” Delilah whispers, her eyes still closed.

  “Yes, Lilah,” I say softly, stroking my fingers through her hair.

  She smiles and slowly peels her eyes open. I am attacked by sleepy pools of brown that draw me in and before I know it, I’m kissing her.

  Delilah pushes away from me and searches my face.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, sensing something is wrong. How she does that, I’ll never know.

  “I’m–”

  “The truth, Ben,” she interrupts as she place
s a finger on my lips.

  Sighing, I take her finger into my mouth and suck it. Her eyes dilate with desire, but she quickly pulls it away. So much for my distraction technique.

  “No distractions. Spill.” She sits up, rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes. Her hair spills over her shoulder, caressing her collarbone and her breast and I want to reach out and smooth it away, but I control the urge.

  “I’m just scared, is all,” I answer truthfully, but effectively dodging any mention of the things Rick had said to me.

  We had a big night of confessions earlier that exhausted us both. This can wait. Moreover, she doesn’t even know I had seen Rick.

  When she doesn’t say anything, I realize she wants me to continue, so I do.

  “I’m afraid of losing you. The thought,” and I sigh past the aching in my chest. “The thought makes my heart ache. It scares the hell out of me, Delilah.”

  “Do you think you’ll lose me?” she asks me, her voice sounding small and shy like a little girl almost.

  “I don’t know, D, and that’s what scares me.”

  “What made you start thinking about that? Was it a dream?”

  I nod in affirmation. It was a simple dream, but the fact of the matter is, that by the end of the dream, Delilah had disappeared.

  “Tell me about it,” she requests.

  I take a deep breath, ready to tell her, but then I realize what she’s doing.

  “You’re psychoanalyzing me again, Miss Keyes,” I remark.

  She smirks. “Drat!” She snaps her fingers in mock defeat.

  “Silly rabbit.”

  She laughs a full laugh at my use of the words she’d used in our first encounter.

  “Tricks are for kids,” I finish, touching her nose with the tip of my finger.

  “Hey, I wasn’t tricking you. I was simply engaging you in conversation,” she counters with a smile.

  “No, you weren’t. You’re too smart for your own good. You were trying to psychoanalyze me and it almost worked too,” I tell her.

  “I was breaking down your defenses.”

  “Don’t you know, Delilah?” and I pull her closer to me, loving the way she fits into my arms. “With you, I have none.”

  We wake later that same morning a little after ten. This is the latest I have ever slept in bed, even when I’m hung-over. But next to me, is every reason to stay in bed forever.

  Delilah is lying on my arm, curled up. My arm is dead, but who cares? I’d cut off a limb just to be with her. As long as it’s not the essential limb…that’s poking her in the butt right now.

  Delilah groans and rubs her ass against my erection. Damn.

  Pulling her to me, I grind into her, the friction making me groan in the back of my throat. I need to be buried inside her…now. My hard length is rubbing in between the cheeks of her lush backside. I can’t wait.

  Flipping her onto her back, her eyes fly open, void of all sleep. I knee her legs apart and notice the mother of all buzz-kills…blood.

  I groan in frustrated disappointment and she looks at me confused.

  “Your period,” I whine and flop onto my back, trying to psyche myself up for a serious case of blue balls.

  “Damn!” she exclaims, flying off the bed and into the adjoining bathroom.

  The shower comes on and she shouts from the bathroom, “Baby, can you ask Rachel if she has any tampons?”

  What the fuck? “What?”

  “Baby, tampons,” she reiterates.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “This blood flow doesn’t joke, baby. And if you don’t want a crabby, hormonal female on your hands, you better drag those drawers on, hard-on and all, and get those tampons from Rae,” she demands.

  “Rachel,” I correct her.

  “Get the fucking tampons!”

  Cue Regan in The Exorcist. Crabby is an understatement.

  I roll my eyes and find my boxers, dragging them on. I decide to slip into my jeans as well, hoping to conceal my very heavy erection.

  Stepping outside, I’m relieved to find Rachel sitting cross-legged on the sofa watching TV. I was worried that I’d have to disturb her in a masturbatory session or worse, in bed with Marshall having a wake and bake. I’d hate to do that to the guy, especially after he came over late last night and they went at it like animals. I guess Delilah and I set Rachel off and she needed some relief. We didn’t mean to be that loud. It just…happened.

  “Morning, Rachel,” I say, padding over to her and kissing her on the top of her strawberry blonde hair.

  She looks up at me incredulously and I have to chuckle. The only other person I’ve ever done that to is Delilah. She is turning me into a…man; a man who actually cares about women, other than to have them bent over a spanking horse and whipped into submission.

  I kinda like it. A lot.

  “Did she do that special thing with her tongue that’s got you acting all warm and fuzzy?” Rachel teases, still looking at me like I’m a stranger.

  “Ha ha, funny, funny,” I deadpan.

  “I heard y’all last night, even after plugging my headphones in. Thought a lion and a bear were goin’ at it,” she teases.

  “As opposed to what you and Marshall were doing?” I toss back. “‘Oh, Marshall! Fuck my tight little pussy!’”

  I laugh as her face goes bright red and her mouth falls open. “My, my, Miss Rachel, I didn’t know you had such a filthy mouth on you,” I taunt, tickling her.

  “Oh, fuck off,” she laughs, swatting me away.

  Our laughter dies down and I go back to being uncomfortable knowing what I have to ask. Damn you, Delilah.

  “Um,” I start, shifting from foot to foot, embarrassed about having to ask this.

  “Come on, out with it, Hayes,” she insists, a smile trying to break out on her face.

  “Well, Delilah is, uh,” I stutter. “You know?” I gesture between my legs.

  “You broke her pussy?” she asks on a laugh.

  I give Rachel an even glare, but can’t stop my lips from twitching.

  “No, idiot.” I break out into a full on smile. “I mean, she’s, uh, seeing…” I bite my bottom lip.

  “Ah.” Rachel nods in understanding. “I’ve got you. The age old sign that a woman isn’t pregnant. I don’t know why Mother Nature doesn’t just send us women emails congratulating us on not bringing demon spawn into the world. The crime scene in the pants thing, from the ninjas stabbing us in the stomach, is getting old,” she rambles as she gets up and heads for her bedroom.

  I didn’t ask her for the tampons, but, like a mind reader, Rachel reemerges after a few moments with an unopened box and hands it to me. I thank her and turn into Delilah’s old room.

  I find her sitting on the bed in a fluffy red robe, biting her lip.

  Shaking the box, I kneel in front of her and tip her chin up. “You okay, D?” I ask.

  “Mild cramps,” she answers. “This is just the beginning, though. You might want to leave me here so you don’t see. I have terrible mood swings and I turn into a raging bitch. And when I have cramps, they really kick my ass. Like curl-up-in-the-fetal-position-and-rock-back-and-forth type of ass kicking.”

  “I want to see it all,” I assure her with a smile.

  She bites her lip again and casts me a doe-eyed gaze. She looks so adorable. I kiss her nose and smile at her and she sighs, pressing her forehead against mine.

  “You’re so sweet,” she says.

  “Thank you. So are you.” She rolls her eyes at that.

  I tap her knee in silent demand that she opens her legs. She does.

  Tearing the box open, I take out one of the little stick things and stare at it in consternation, wondering how it works. Delilah notices and starts giggling.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to know what to do with it.” She takes it and disposes the top then demonstrates how to stick it in.

  “I'll remember that,” I promise before rising and taking her up with me.

&nb
sp; I enfold her in my arms and she squeezes me. Kissing the top of her head, I hold onto her tighter.

  “I’ve never been interested in doing that for a woman,” I confess. “If they’re having their periods, I usually don’t bother with them for a week or two; getting someone else to take their places in my bed. I confess I was a slut. I’ve never cared before you.”

  “I know,” she says.

  After a moment of silence, me stroking her exposed stomach, Delilah asks me something that every sub I’ve ever had has asked me and that I’ve never answered…aside from with punishment. They know never to try to get personal with me. Delilah is different, though; always has been.

  “What made you this way? What made you like hurting women, controlling them?”

  I slap the side of her thigh to show my displeasure of what she thinks I do…we do. I don’t hurt women, aside from that ex in college and that was purely accidental.

  “I don’t hurt women, Delilah,” I correct her sternly.

  “Sorry, my mistake,” she quickly says.

  “What I do is test their limits. Pain and pleasure coincide and are highs in and of themselves. The combination of both – feeling pain to attain pleasure – is as potent as any drug,” I explain. “It is a divine experience. To be able to absorb pain into one’s flesh, let it sink into one’s very being, allowing it to cling to every synapse and then have it burst through the body as pleasure, is a heady experience. Not everyone’s pain threshold is the same, so every woman I come in contact with is tested. I like regular sex, but only with people I connect on an emotional level with.”

  “Like me,” she says, smiling.

  I smile back. “Like you,” I assure her.

  “But you haven’t answered my question,” she points out. “I know I like pain, especially if you’re giving it to me.”

  “Good to know,” I quip, feeling my ego heighten.

  “Ha! Vain, much?” she jokes, slapping at my chest. “But, what I’m saying is, I like it…why do you?” Her eyes search mine, desperate for my answer.