Like Glass We Break (Glass #2)

by Kari Fisher

  As he eases his grip slightly, she relaxes into him. She feels defeated and she lets her arms drop to her sides. He puts both of his arms around her and holds her so that she cannot move. More biting and licking. As her body turns slightly, her thigh brushes against him, revealing how very aroused he’s become for her. Unconsciously, she presses back against it, her body going against what her mind is screaming at her.

  Renae opens her mouth as though she’s about to object but Scott covers it with his hand. Before she knows it, he flings her around from the wall toward the bed as she falls back against the satin sheets and large pillows. As she looks up, he’s already there, hovering like a tiger eyeing his prey. His look—what is it about his look that she can't turn away from?

  He’s clearly not going to take no for an answer, nor will Renae say no. He holds both of her hands in one of his, above her head. He squeezes hard and she winces at the pain, but it feels good. She can feel how badly he wants her as he pushes himself up against her. She cries out softly and he puts his other hand over her mouth. Scott presses firmly against her underwear, feeling her heat and wetness. He lets out a bit of a deep growl beside her ear as his kissing intensifies. Pushing harder, rubbing deeper—her body squirms to his touch. She feels the weight of his chest pressing down against her, making sure she’s not going anywhere. Her head thrashes to the side and then presses against his cheek.

  “The c-conference—we’re—” she stutters, trying not to give into him any more than she already has. For a second, she cannot breathe, and she squirms free. She backs away from him on the bed, but he stares into her eyes and follows her. His hand firmly grasps her inner thigh as he pushes his leg between to help force her open. She is startled, but can’t seem to stop him. Her heart races, her breathing is heavy, and her body has a mind of its own.

  He leans back down to her ear, licking and nibbling on it. He’s just teasing her. As his hand slowly moves up her thigh, she grabs a handful of the soft sheets in anticipation of when he reaches his goal. Scott pulls himself off her to sit up in the bed, grabbing onto her hips again. This time, though, he quickly flips her onto her stomach, handling her with a manly force. Before she can gain her bearings, she feels her pencil skirt being pulled up to her hips. She didn’t notice that while he was fondling her, his other hand was busy undoing his own pants. In one swift move, she feels him behind her, pushing her flimsy excuse for underwear aside and pushing himself deep inside her with a forceful thrust. She lets out a loud gasp and her body arcs to this unexpected turn of events. He holds still against her, letting the shock of the moment wear off. Her body melts back into the bed, realizing how much she’s missed this feeling. As he begins to slowly pull out, she pushes back against him, not wanting him to stop. Renae moans loud enough that she’s sure whoever is in the room next to them has heard. His hand slides firmly around her one shoulder as his other wraps around her waist.

  She grips the white sheets tightly with both of her hands, her face pressed into the mattress. She can barely breathe but she doesn’t care. She closes her eyes and arches her back, anticipating his moves. His starting thrusts go deep inside her, sending intense waves through her body, her hands clenching and squeezing at the sheets while his rhythm starts to pick up. There’s no use in fighting these urges any longer, so she gives into him, softly whispering under her breath how badly she wants this. His pace quickens, his own hands fumbling around her body, grabbing at her hair and neck, his other hand clenching the dress at the small of her back, pulling her forcefully back against him. She can hear his breathing getting heavier as she feels him grow inside her, and with a loud groan, his movement comes to a quivering halt as he collapses against her for support.

  She slowly slides her knees down underneath him as he comes to rest his body on top of her, wrapping his arm around her neck and the other under her stomach. He nuzzles against her with some light kisses to her flushed cheeks, smelling her sweat mixing with her perfume. He lets out a sigh of relief and satisfaction while catching his breath as they turn while he rolls off beside her. She watches as he gets dressed like nothing happened.

  “The conference,” he says. “We have to go.”

  “Uh, yeah,” she replies. Her legs feel weak and she’s unsure about whether or not she’ll be able to walk properly. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and takes a deep breath. She touches the carpet of the hotel room floor with her big toe. So far so good. She stands, wobbly, pulling her skirt back into place and smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse.

  Chapter Eight

  “Scott Reed, where the hell were you?” the director whispers as Scott casually strolls into the room.

  “Sorry. Had some issues I had to deal with,” Scott replies. Everyone in the room is staring at him. Renae walks in by his side feeling insecure. She wonders if anyone knows what just happened between them—if she has that look on her face like she just had sex. She’s certain that she’s blushing.

  “Glad you could finally join us,” someone seemingly important at the head of the table says sternly.

  “Hi everyone. Sorry I was late. I’ve prepared a PowerPoint presentation for all of you to enjoy, that will outline this quarter’s numbers, and show you exactly in what direction we, at Danis Accounting, are going,” Scott announces, making his way to the front of the room.

  Renae quietly sinks into a seat at the back and slouches down. Her drinks from last night are catching up with her and her hangover finally hits her. Her head is pounding and her eyes are sensitive to the light. She watches as Scott paces back and forth, lecturing the rest of the room as though he’s teaching a class.

  Feeling nauseous, Renae jumps from her chair and slips out of the room. She barely makes it to the washroom down the hall on time before she vomits profusely in the garbage can. The room is spinning. She expels her insides so violently that she begins to cry. She collapses onto the presumably dirty floor and buries her head between her knees. She remains in this position for the next half hour, only lifting her head to vomit more. Then, she returns to her room, where she pulls off her skirt and blouse and crawls into her bed—while thoughts of Scott behind her crawl into her head.

  Perhaps she’ll actually get a bit of sleep. She floats off into her subconscious.

  ***

  Renae is awakened by a knock on the door. Startled, she sits up in bed with a jolt, and looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. She has slept for six hours.

  She’s missed the entire day’s meetings. It was unintentional. She really only wanted to take a quick power nap and then head back to the conference, refreshed and alive, but that didn’t happen. She feels the pit of her stomach twisting up when she realizes she might actually lose her job over this.

  There is a knock at the door again.

  She hops out of bed and scans the room for her clothing. She finds it exactly where she left it—piled on the floor at the foot of her bed, wrinkled and inside out.

  “Uh, coming,” she calls out, but her voice is weak and she stumbles while putting her skirt on. She catches onto the side of the dresser and takes a second to steady herself. Okay, let’s try this again. Left leg up, into skirt. Right leg. Both legs are in. Blouse is on and buttoned almost up to the top, except for the last two holes, flirtatiously showing a tiny bit of cleavage to whoever may be interested in looking.

  When she finally gets to the door, the hallway is empty. She stands, confused, looking left and right. She closes the door and locks the deadbolt.

  ***

  Scott

  Scott opens the door to his hotel room and saunters in. He loosens his tie and pulls off his dress pants. He folds them neatly and places them on the chair by his bed. Reaching into his suitcase, he pulls out the shirt he wore last night. He carries it into the washroom and runs the water in the sink until it’s scalding. He rinses the shirt sleeve under the water and watches as the blood runs down the drain with the water. He wrings the shirt out and dabs on a bit of hand soap. Scrubbing,
he realizes that the blood isn’t going to come out that easily. He runs it under the hot water once again, and then hangs it on the shower head. Pink colored water is dripping from the shirt.

  He returns to his bed and sits on it, pondering his actions for tonight. He wonders if he’ll ask Renae for more drinks—perhaps they would meet another bartender that way. Or should he just make his way back over to her room and wake her for a second round of sex today? The conference is over and tomorrow they head back home. If he wants to make another move on her, it needs to be done tonight. Once he’s home, he’ll need to deal with the drama of Sophie’s heartbreak, due to the end of their relationship. He’ll have to explain to her that too many men want her and he just can’t deal with that sort of competition—not that he’s afraid he’d lose—he’s certain he’s the most attractive man she’s ever met, but he just doesn’t want to think about other men wanting her. Also, he’s certain she’s been with far too many men for his liking. She seems like the type of woman who would let a man take her out just to get a free meal.

  He decides he’s going to just take it easy tonight. Last night’s events with Ashley took far too much energy and now he’s exhausted. He waited for her by her car and when she was done with her shift at work, he asked what she was doing for the rest of the night. She said she had no plans—and no boyfriend. He took that as an invitation to accompany her back to her place. They barely made it down the hallway to her apartment without taking their clothes off. He chased after her and groped her as she giggled, trying to remain as quiet as possible. She fumbled for her keys as he stuck his fingers up her skirt. Once the door was unlocked, Scott threw her against it. It flew open and she slammed back against the wall. They pulled their boots off and he unzipped his pants. She hiked up her skirt, revealing that she had chosen not to wear any underwear. He had her, right there in the entrance of her apartment. She moaned, loudly, as he slammed her body against the wall repeatedly. He pulled her hair so hard that for a second she was sure her neck would snap—and then it did. He finished inside her as he held her still-warm, lifeless body in his arms. He yelled out as he found his release and then let her go. She slid to the floor, her eyes still open.

  “Cora?” he whispered. She did not respond.

  He bent down, exposed, his pants still unzipped. He touched her cheek. Still no response.

  “Not you too,” he whispered angrily. He pulled a knife from his back pocket. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, still crouched over her, and he stabbed outwards with the knife. It pierced through the flesh of her breast and then plunged into her heart. He pulled it out slowly, and watched the blood drip from the sharp blade. He pushed it back into her again, deeper and with more strength this time, and then pulled it out once again.

  “Cora?” he asked. Still, no reply as she remained slouched and lifeless. Scott picked her up in his arms, her blood pouring onto the sleeve of his shirt. He carried her into her living room and laid her gently on her couch. His fingers grazed her eyelids and then he carefully closed them. “Goodnight, Cora.”

  He slipped out of her apartment quietly, without any of her neighbors noticing. No one had heard her scream for help as he pulled on her hair, because she hadn’t been able to breathe enough to yell with his other hand over her mouth.

  Now, after an entire day of meetings, he wishes he had a stiff scotch right now, but he can do without. He’d rather sleep than explore the street to find a new bar. Besides, there’s a blizzard out there. The weather channel had told Scott earlier that there was going to be twenty-five centimeters of snow within the next few hours. Hopefully this doesn’t delay their flights for tomorrow—Scott really doesn’t want to be stuck at an airport all afternoon, waiting for the planes to fly again.

  He lay in bed, on his side, staring at the alarm clock. This is an early bedtime for him but he’s excited to feel refreshed in the morning.

  Renae reclines in her own bed. It’s an early night for her too. With thoughts of what Scott had done to her body earlier today still fresh in her head, her hand slides beneath the sheets and meets her wetness. She closes her eyes, but she doesn’t fall asleep right away.

  Chapter Nine

  Renae

  Scott and Renae both arrive separately at the meeting this morning. They’re early, and Scott walks over to the coffee machine where he makes a coffee for himself and one for Renae. He brings it over to where she’s sitting at the long conference table and sets it down in front of her. She smiles politely and nods. He takes the seat next to her and her leg brushes against his. She realizes their eyes are locked so she looks away toward the projection screen where the PowerPoint presentation will be shown soon. She wants him again but can’t let this interrupt her work today. She was sent here to learn essential skills for Danis Accounting, and she’s determined to return to work tomorrow as a better, more prepared employee.

  As the meeting begins, Renae focuses her eyes in the direction of the man speaking at the front. She can feel Scott staring at her and it makes her uncomfortable, mostly because she wants to be able to pay attention without thinking about him touching her.

  She’s relieved when the speaker announces that it’s time for a coffee break, and she runs out of the room to the women’s washroom down the hall.

  In the stall, she takes her time and checks her phone. She hears the door to the washroom open and someone enters the stall next to hers and shuts the door. She reaches for toilet paper, wipes, and flushes the toilet. She emerges from the stall and washes her hands with hot water over the sink. As she reaches for the paper towels, she sees the stall door behind her slowly open. Scott stands behind her, completely exposed, wearing only a shirt and his shoes. He is hard. She turns and begins to speak, but he’s already on her, hands at her throat once again in a familiar way that she remembers from just yesterday. She whispers the word “no” but he doesn’t slow down. When she looks at the door to the bathroom, she realizes that he hasn’t locked the deadbolt and there’s a chance someone may walk in on them but at this point she doesn’t even care; he’s inside her and she’s bent over the bathroom vanity. He pounds into her so hard that her feet lift from the ground. He’s deeper than ever, completely inside of her, like she has never felt before. Her head hits the mirror so hard that she’s sure the mirror has cracked. It leaves a bruise almost instantly that starts throbbing, and she feels slightly dizzy. He continues at her, thrusting and grunting. Sweat is pouring from his forehead.

  Renae’s head cracks against the mirror one last time as Scott groans. As soon as he’s finished, he is gone. This leaves Renae standing in the bathroom alone, staring at herself in the mirror with fluids leaking down her leg, wondering what just happened.

  ***

  The airport is surprisingly quiet, which is good because Renae’s head is pounding. Perhaps from being struck against the bathroom mirror, or just the stress of having to drive to the airport in this terrible weather. Whatever the cause, Renae knows this is going to turn into a migraine by the end of the day. Her eyes are sensitive to light and there are black splotches in her vision. The ache from her head is throbbing all the way down into her neck. She just wants to close her eyes and sleep, or sink into a scalding hot bubble bath, but here she is—amidst the incredibly bright lights of the airport.

  Renae and Scott sit across from each other, waiting to hear what the fate of their flight is. Both of them are hoping to get home today and aren’t too thrilled with the news that they may have to extend their trip another day, or even two days, if this weather doesn’t let up.

  Scott stands and approaches the woman at the desk. She is a tiny little blonde with bright green eyes. Her hair is pulled back into the perfect ponytail and she is wearing thick-rimmed glasses that make her look intelligent and sexy. Scott imagines how the glasses would look on the nightstand beside his bed back home. He stands, dazed, and doesn’t respond immediately when she asks him what she can help him with.

  “Oh, sorry,” he mutters. “It’s been
a long couple days. I’m just looking to get home.”

  “All flights are still delayed, sir. I don’t know how long they will be delayed, either. Hopefully this weather clears up and we can get you home,” she responds.

  “Thanks, Amrita,” he says, reading her name from her name tag. He leans in on the counter and asks her to let him know as soon as there’s an update on the status of his flight.

  “Sure, no problem,” she agrees. She looks down and goes back to doing whatever paperwork she was doing before he interrupted her, and Scott returns to his seat across from Renae.

  He is fidgety and antsy, twitching every couple seconds and scanning the large waiting area.

  “What’s wrong?” Renae asks, putting down the book she had been reading.

  “I just—I need to get home.”

  “Oh. Well, we will soon, I’m sure,” Renae assures him. “Are you that excited to get back to work tomorrow, Scott?”

  “No. I have other things I need to deal with,” he mumbles. “I have to see Sophie.”

  “Sophie? Oh.” Renae repeats the name quietly, feeling defeated. She had been certain he was over everything that happened with Sophie, who hasn’t texted Renae in a few days.

  “I need to go,” Scott announces, getting up from his chair. Renae looks up, but doesn’t move. Her eyes follow Scott as he walks out of the waiting area, quickly toward the exit, almost running.

  Renae is almost not surprised. He has done weird things in the past. He seems volatile and unpredictable. Still dark, mysterious, and attractive. Renae sighs and sinks back into the soft chair cushion. She decides that if he’s running back to Sophie and they work things out, she isn’t going to be very happy with either of them. Perhaps it’s time to start searching for a new job, although so far she’s happy at Danis. Maybe if she worked at a different office, she’d meet one of the associates there and they’d start a normal relationship and not this thing—whatever it is—she has with Scott.