by Chapple, GL
FREE FALLING
The Fighting Free Series
Copyright © 2016 GL Chapple
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright owner, author and publisher, GL Chapple.
This is a work of fiction. You should not believe any part of this book to be based in truth or fact. Any resemblance or similarity between people; living or dead, places, events etc is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold.
Cover designer: Imagination Uncovered
Formatting: Irish Ink Designs
Editing: GC Edits
Please feel free to connect with me. I would love to hear back from you. I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading.
More From GL Chapple
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Free Falling - Song Playlist
The Fighting Free series:
Freed by Him
Caught by Her
This is a duet and tells the story of Nate and Lena.
For the imperfect people, the lost people and those who feel weak... you are stronger than you know. The breaks and cracks are testament to your strength, not signs of weakness. Keep going.
I felt as if I was in a porno – and a piss-poor one at that! You know the ones – a shitty apartment, poor lighting and a girl that sounds as if she’s trying for an Oscar.
I groaned in frustration, which, clearly, she misunderstood, her over-enthusiastic moans becoming louder and more pronounced as she bounced around on top of me. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the noises around me and focus on the pussy that was wrapped around my cock - Mission Impossible, since her voice grated on me like nails being dragged down a blackboard.
How the fuck hadn’t I noticed that?
I didn’t know if she was faking or not, and, in all honesty, I wasn’t bothered either way – I just needed her to shut up. What the hell had I been thinking?
Well, I hadn’t - that was the problem. I should have just gone home and jerked off to the thought of her. The reality wasn’t living up to expectations – expectations that hadn’t been that high to begin with! There was never any risk of my heart being involved, but, if I couldn’t keep my head in the game, then this was never going to work.
I sat upright and her eyes opened wide as I caught her around the waist, lifting her off me and dumping her on the bed. For a split second, I contemplated throwing my clothes on and walking out. The sight of her licking her lips in what she clearly thought was a provocative manner almost had my feet moving, only my dick yelled louder - demanding I finish what I’d started.
Less alcohol, Marcus, for fuck’s sake, less alcohol…
I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood up, reached over and caught her by the ankle, pulling her to the edge and flipping her over. She squealed loudly, and I fought the urge to bolt again. Her feet rested on the floor just in front of mine, and I pushed her down firmly, hands between her shoulder blades as I bent her over, my palm flat against her back as I pressed her face into the duvet. I pulled her arse skywards. Without warning, I slammed into her. I heard her gasp but didn’t hesitate, pulling almost all the way back out before pounding back in again and again.
This was better - less noise, just sensations.
I closed my eyes and chased my own release. I held her hips firmly as I thrust into her, feeling my balls tighten as I got closer. Thank fuck! She lifted her head from the bed, her breathing laboured now as she panted and called out, chanting and moaning.
Thank Christ I was too far gone to pay attention to her, throwing my head back as I emptied myself into her.
I stood there for a moment, hands still holding her hips, eyes closed as my heart rate and breathing slowly settled back to normal. She giggled - a high-pitched, girlie noise that, unfortunately, drew my attention back to harsh reality. I took a step backwards, moving away from her as she crawled up the bed. She turned to face me, but I didn’t wait to engage with her. I turned to walk to the bathroom, picking up my jeans from the dresser as I walked past.
I discarded the condom in the bin and washed my hands, threw cold water over my face and stared back at my reflection.
What the fuck was I doing?
My eyes were bloodshot, dull and lifeless despite my recent orgasm. I ran my hand through my hair before putting my legs into my jeans and walking out towards the bedroom.
She looked at me in surprise, taking in the sight of me in my jeans, my eyes searching the room for my shirt. “Hey, what’s the rush?” she pointed at my clothing.
“I’m gonna head off.”
Her lips thinned as she pulled herself up to sit stiff and straight in the bed. “Just like that?”
“Were you expecting cuddles?”
Her mouth dropped open a little then she recovered. “Not exactly. I expected you to stay the night though, not take off right after…”
Indignation was turning to anger; her fingers were gripping the blanket a little tighter, her eyes narrowing as a scowl took over her face. I needed to get out of here. This had been a mistake. I didn’t want to find out how big a mistake by listening to her bitching or hysterics.
I spotted my shirt and walked over to it, slipping it on as I watched her. “I like to sleep in my own bed. Don’t take it personally. I’ll catch you again.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious right now?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know what else to say to her. I had no intention of spending the night; in fact, I wanted to get home as soon as possible.
She shook her head, a harsh, humourless sound escaping from her, “I guess you don’t want my number either then…just get the fuck out…you’re a real bastard, y’know that?”
I didn’t bother to answer her. I had no interest in defending myself or arguing with her.
I wanted to leave; she wanted me gone. It was easy enough.
I walked out and left without glancing behind me.
Noticing the lights were still on at home, I cringed. It was times like this I hated living with my sister. I opened the door quietly, gently kicking my shoes off and walking towards the stairs. I heard her call out to me from the living room and cursed. I’d expected her to be in bed by now.
“Marcus, that you?”
“No. I’m a burglar. I’ve come to steal all your shit. Thought I’d let myself in through the door and announce myself first, though.”
“Stop being an arsehole! We have a guest. Considering you’ve just got laid you think you’d be in a better mood. Maybe you should have chosen someone other than Miss Quayside 1996.”
“Fuck off!” I muttered. She hadn’t been that young. She was certainly old enough to know what she was doing when she’d gyrated against me on the dance floor, practically giving me a hand-job through my jeans.
The ‘Quayside’ jibe I couldn’t argue with; she was hardly a classy girl, but comparing her to a
cheap and tacky holiday camp was harsh of Kelly. Not that I was going to defend her honour - difficult to do after the hand-job on the dance floor and the fact that I’d fucked her without even knowing her surname.
I dropped down to sit in an armchair, surprised that Maddie was sitting beside Kelly on the sofa. “Hey, Mads.”
Maddie pursed her lips, looking amused as Kelly berated me.“You’re acting like a dick – you know that, right?” Kelly cursed at me in annoyance before turning back to Maddie, “I’m going to bed. You too?” Kelly asked.
I glanced across at Maddie, wondering why she was staying the night.
“I’m good, thanks. I know where the spare room is. I’ll finish this water and come up. I’ll be gone in the morning. Thanks for letting me stay.” She smiled at Kelly, who looked unsure, before giving her a hug and clipping me across the head as she walked out of the room, giving me more grief over her shoulder as she left.
“Wise up, big Bro. Fucking your way through every available woman isn’t going to make you feel any better.”
“You wanna tell Carl to up his game. Sex should always make you feel better,” I called to her retreating back. She flipped me the finger as she walked up the stairs and disappeared from view. I scowled, eliciting another soft laugh from Maddie.
I turned to look at her, and she said, raising her brow. “Don’t give me that look – I’m with you! If hooking up makes you happy, go for it, I say. Kelly’s looking out for you, but she’s also been with Carl a long time…”
“How come you’re staying?” I asked, changing the subject, but she immediately became agitated, fidgeting with her hands and twirling a ring around on her finger.
“Kelly insisted. The apartment is empty tonight, and I was quite drunk earlier…” Her voice faltered and faded away. It wasn’t like Maddie to feel bad about enjoying herself.
I stood, conscious of the fact that I’d made her feel uncomfortable, “Hey, that makes two of us. It’s the weekend! We’re adults and we can get pissed. Don’t let the fun police ruin our buzz.” I winked at her, glad to see that she smiled again. “Fancy one for the road?” I asked, as I walked towards the kitchen.
She paused just for a second before smiling and nodding her head.
“Sure.”
I picked up two beers from the fridge and walked back to the sofa, handing one across to her.
“So, how’re you?” she asked cautiously.
I glanced across at her, the bottle of beer raised but not yet reaching my mouth. “You really wanna do this? How ‘bout you tell me why you’re sleeping in my house?”
She lowered her eyes for a second then looked back at me, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Tiger or lion, which would win in a fight?”
I looked at her, stunned for a moment, before releasing a loud bark of laughter. She’d completely thrown me. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d genuinely laughed out loud. I studied her for a moment as I pondered her question, feeling my lips curl into a smile. “A tiger - it has a higher muscle density. They’re about the same size overall, but a tiger is stronger. It’s a better fighter in every aspect.”
“You seem very sure about this.”
I tipped my drink back, swallowing a long mouthful before grinning at her. “It’s not a fight I’ve ever witnessed…or considered.” I added with a chuckle, “but you’re welcome to Google it.”
“Because Google knows all? Maybe I should ask Siri?” She mocked me, her eyes dancing with delight.
“Either one. I’m not affiliated.”
She laughed, the sound light and carefree, her smile wide as she gently shook her head. “Crocodile or Shark?” she countered, sitting cross-legged on the sofa.
“Croc,” I answered.
“Really?” She looked dubious.
“Thick skin -think about it - almost a coat of armour covering their entire body. They’re both strong, but I think a croc would be able to manoeuvre better and its jaws snap shut with more force than a shark’s.”
“You put a lot of thought into this.” She sat there looking bemused, twisting her hair between her fingers. “Ok…I’ll give you that.”
“Is this strictly an animal questionnaire, Ace, or can we ask anything?”
“Ace?”
“Ace Ventura, pet detective,” I answered with a smirk, and she burst out laughing.
“I’m an open book!” She gestured in front of her. “You can ask anything, doesn’t mean I’ll answer – and if we’re swapping measurements, you’ve got to go first, and I want proof; I’m not being caught out like that again!”
I choked on my beer, spluttering it over myself. This girl was something else! I met her eyes to find her grinning at me, and I honestly couldn’t tell if she’d been kidding or not. I played it safe; we’d been friends a while - besides, Maddie was the best friend of my best friend’s fiancée…that could lead to all sorts of complications. I didn’t need shit like that in my life – getting through the days proved difficult enough as it was, without me making it more so.
“Which could you give up - alcohol or chocolate?”
She sucked her bottom lip, clearly considering the question.
My eyes were focused on her mouth. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips just before she spoke, and my mind took a nose dive to the gutter. Considering I’d just chewed myself out all the way home for screwing around, my body had conveniently forgotten my lecture.
“Chocolate,” she answered decisively, before grimacing and folding her bottom lip over. “Ahh…no, it would have to be alcohol…oh, damn. That’s much harder.” She shook her head, “You?”
“Chocolate,” I responded without hesitation, getting up to get us some more drinks.
“Too hot or too cold?” I asked, as I put her bottle on her table and sat down.
“Hot. Just take your clothes off. I hate being cold. I’d much rather be naked than wrapped up in layers.”
“Don’t let me stop you. I’m happy to knock the heating up.”
She poked her tongue out playfully, and I chuckled. OK, I’d play it fairly safe…
“Sex or alcohol?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t making this easy on me.
“Alcohol.” I answered with a smirk, enjoying the conversation despite my brain telling me to slow down on the alcohol before I got myself into a situation that would result in an arse-kicking from Nate and quite possibly Lena too.
“You could give up on alcohol and chocolate?” She looked disbelieving, as she picked up her bottle and drank almost half of it.
“Hey, if it’s those or sex! Though it depends on how much sex I’m getting…”
“Or how good the sex is, surely? No good having quantity but no quality!”
I grimaced, and regret washed over her face, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t having a go at you,” She stared into her bottle, suddenly lost in thought. Her whole demeanour had changed, and, when she spoke, her voice was low and sad. “You’re hurting. You’re medicating that with whatever works - I get that. Sex is better than alcohol, drink or drugs. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for how you’re choosing to heal, Marcus. At least you’re doing something that makes you feel alive rather than something that numbs you.”
“Makes me feel alive…” I murmured to myself.
Did it? Did I really feel alive? Or was it just another way to numb me from feeling anything. I sure as hell hadn’t felt anything towards any of the girls that I’d been with.
She was speaking again and I glanced back at her but she wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were still fixed on the bottle that she’d finished but was still nursing in her hands. “You’re both consenting and you know it’s purely physical. There’s no expectation, so nobody is going to get hurt. Stick with that. You can jump from one meaningless encounter to another; the only time you’ll truly get fucked is when emotions get involved.”
She looked up from the bottle to meet my gaze, and the rawness of the emotion swimming in her eyes shocked me. Befo
re I had time to process what I’d seen, she blinked, hiding the pain away, a wicked smile back on her face, though I now doubted its authenticity. She tilted her bottle to her mouth, frowning when she found it empty. I handed mine across, and she knocked it back in one long gulp.
“Thanks…I’ve always loved sex…you’ll get no judgement from me. I used to get plenty - and it didn’t have to be this deep and meaningful bonding ritual - it could be raw and wild, all about hitting that high to relax and feel good”-
I adjusted in my seat, visions of Maddie flitting through my mind that I really shouldn’t have been seeing.
-“It’s when you start expecting more that you get screwed over. When you think it means more than it does. I used to think sex in love meant you’d be connected, that you’d be sharing something, that it would feel different…but it’s still all about putting part P in slot V. You’re still two people using each other, only now you’re under some dumb illusion, stupid enough to think that three words will complete you, will stop the ache in your chest and the chill in your heart. So fucking stupid.” She went quiet, still staring into her bottle, before rousing herself and blushing furiously. “Shit! I’m sorry, Marcus. I don’t know why I said that – shit! I’m still drunk and rambling. I talk way too much crap. Just ignore me! I need to get to sleep. I’m just going to nip to the bathroom.” She jumped up from the sofa and fled the room before I could stop her.
What the hell was going on with Maddie?
This was a very different side to her. Obviously, she was having issues with Christian. I didn’t have the energy to fight anyone else’s battles, and besides, it wasn’t my place to get involved. I sure as hell had no interest in getting caught up in her relationship, but, still, I didn’t like to see her upset. Selfishly, I felt disappointed. I’d been enjoying our silly conversation; things had felt so natural and easy.
My girlfriend having been murdered meant that there tended to be an underlying awkwardness to most conversations. Friends told me how sorry they were – but it wasn’t their fault. They told me I needed to move on - as if it were that fucking easy, and I could just pick up and carry on. They apologised for my loss – as if I’d misplaced an item of value, instead of the person that had helped hold me together, all the broken, messed-up pieces of me…It devalued her and everything that we had, and I hated that they could make such stupid, thoughtless and ridiculous statements. I knew they cared and I knew they were concerned, but it took all my willpower not to punch them and tell them to fuck off and leave me alone. I couldn’t give them what they wanted from me. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to feel…
