Unbroken: Virgin and Bad Boy Second Chance Romance

by Haley Pierce

  And then he walks away.

  I stay there, listening to the man across from me droning on about benefits and salary, as our food arrives. Then I realize, I have an entire hour left of eating, making boring conversation with this man, my new employer, when the only thing I’ve ever really wanted in my life just walked out the door. When it hits me, all blood drains from my face. I grip the edge of my napkin.

  “Excuse me,” I say, interrupting him in the middle of a sentence. I start to stand. “Do you mind?”

  “No, go right ahead,” he says. He must think I’m going to the restroom, but I’m already rushing down the aisle, before he can give me his permission. I race to the front of the restaurant, but he’s already gone outside.

  I push my way outside, and am immediately hit by a cold blast of air that takes my breath away. Without a coat, it’s enough to freeze my skin on contact.

  I search up and down the streets, and finally see him in a blue puffer coat, heading down the street, flanked by the two men he’d been dining with. “Silas!” I shout.

  He turns.

  He walks toward me. “What the fuck are you doing, girl? Where’s your coat?”

  I’m hugging myself as the icy wind threatens to blow me over. My hair is going every which way from the smart bun I’d coiled it into earlier this morning, and I can’t feel my cheeks or ears anymore. “Inside. I just . . .”

  “Go inside, Genevieve. Get that job. I--” He stops. He looks confused.

  “What?”

  “I just didn’t think you could leave the Bend. What about your father?”

  I shrug. The cold is pulling tears from my eyes. Or maybe that’s being here, with him. “There are nursing homes around here. And Bradys Bend might be another world, but it’s really not that far away.”

  He unzips his jacket, pulls it off, and drops it on my shoulders. “It’s what you were born to be, Genevieve. It’ll make you happy.”

  I shrug. But as I’m standing there, I know the answer. “Yes, writing is what makes me happy. Much happier than waiting tables in the Bend. I won’t truly be happy unless . . .” I stop. Look away. He left me. Left me for what truly makes him happy. My lips are blue and I’m probably going to freeze here, right on the street. I open my mouth, but just then, another fierce wind blows, taking my voice away.

  He takes my arm. “Come with me.”

  He leads me into a bright, clean, windowed building with a giant, ornate chandelier, which must be a museum. Whatever, it’s warm. I follow him to an elevator, where we climb to the top floor, in silence. “Where are we going?” I ask him.

  “My house,” he says. “I’m going to warm you up.”

  I stiffen. “What?”

  “Not like that,” he says. “I have some brandy. And a fireplace.”

  “Okay, but—” I start, as the elevator doors slide open. This is the penthouse. I walk out into an enormous, amazing living room, with a wall constructed entirely of windows. It’s lovely for the exhibitionist, but it does everything to remind me how far away from the Bend I am. How far Silas is from my life. I hug myself. “I should probably get—”

  He takes my hand. “Hell no.”

  And he stands in front of the elevator panel, to stop me from pushing any buttons. I scowl at him. “Am I your prisoner?”

  “No, but you’re going to hear me out, Genevieve,” he says.

  I throw up my hand and walk deeper into the apartment. Oh, my god, he lives here? This is like, a place for a Trump. Or a king. Really? In the living room, there’s a giant stone fireplace that rises at least five stories tall. And a koi pond, with a waterfall, in the kitchen. I walk on pillowy white carpet across the massive room, peeking in at the bathroom, which is bigger than my entire apartment and has a tub that you could probably swim laps in. “Overdoing it much?” I say.

  “I don’t know why I even tried to impress you,” he mumbles.

  “Oh, this was for me?” I let out a bitter laugh.

  He nods, shoving his hands sheepishly into his pockets. “Yes. I told you. Any time I’ve done anything, it was to impress you. Because I thought maybe one day, I’d be good enough for you. But I will never be, huh?”

  I whirl to him. “That’s the furthest thing from true. I’m nobody.”

  “You’re everybody, goddammit, Genevieve,” he says, coming up close to me. “Everyone who matters to me. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I knew you wouldn’t want to do the long-distance relationship. And I needed you. Yeah, at first, I was blind and I just wanted your body. But somewhere along the line, I realized how much I need you. All of you.”

  I look down at his ring finger. “You’re not wearing the ring.”

  He rolls his eyes. “That gaudy bible? I’ll get another one.”

  I can’t help the laugh that escapes from my lips.

  “But Genevieve. I’d give it all up for you. I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now.”

  “So,” I start, feeling my cheeks blazing now. “Why didn’t you tell me any of that in the restaurant? You would’ve just let me go?”

  He leans against the wall. “I waited four years for you, Genevieve. I’ll wait a little longer, if you need me to.”

  “So . . .You’re just waiting for me to put you in play?”

  He nods. “Yep. I figure eventually, you’d come back. Few women can resist all this.”

  He meant it as a joke, but he’s right. He’s irresistible, as I always knew. And now, he’s mine. All mine. My heart beating a million miles an hour. I put up my hands, to touch him, and before I can, he grabs my wrists. “What are you—”

  “I’m bracing for your right hook.”

  “I wasn’t going to hit you,” I say, still breathing hard.

  “First time for everything.” He takes my wrists in his and lowers his mouth onto mine. He kisses me, and kisses me, our tongues mingling together, the electricity almost too much to stand, and suddenly, I am very, very warm. He reaches a hand behind my head, pulling it from the bun, letting my hair fall loose on my shoulders, as his mouth trails down to my jaw. He pulls my blazer open and says, “Did anyone tell you that you look sexy in a suit?”

  A suit. Suddenly, I step back. I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh, my god. I totally forgot about Vincent.”

  He shakes his head. “Forget it. Your new boss is an old friend of mine. He’ll be cool.”

  “Okay,” I say, as he leads me to the couch, and we start to make out, just like we were kids. Hands everywhere, moving against bare skin, creating friction and warmth as the fireplace flickers in front of us. I pull off my blazer, and he helps me to remove my skirt. And he kisses me, until my face is rubbed raw, bringing back all those memories of high school, when this was enough.

  But now, it isn’t enough. “I think I know what I’d like you to do,” I say, biting on my lower lip.

  He studies my face, and his eyes light up. “You’re just fucking with me, now, aren’t you?”

  I shake my head. “Do it before I lose my nerve, okay?”

  He nods. He sinks on his knees to the soft carpet, then, pulling my face to him, he kisses me. “Just lie back, okay?” he says. “I’ll never hurt you again, Genevieve. I promise. I love you so much.”

  I know he won’t.

  His hand reaches up, to my thong, rubbing my pussy through the thin fabric. Taking my ankles in each hand, he pulls my legs apart, resting each heel on the frame of the sofa. I’m now spread out, my ass on the very edge of the couch, my shoulders against the backrest. Ordinarily, not a very comfortable position, but I can’t care about my comfort. I’m really going to do this. “Okay?”

  I nod.

  “You are gorgeous. And you’re mine, Genevieve,” he says, his eyes burning and full of sincerity. “You’re always going to be mine. Are you ready?”

  I nod.

  His broad frame settles between my legs, gazing at me with tenderness, but also fierce desire. Ever so slowly, he lowers himself down, closer, closer to my skin, and runs a fi
nger up my thigh. I tense, and then, feeling the warm, pleasant sensation of his fingertip against me, let out the breath I’ve been holding.

  The next thing I know, I feel a nibble on my abdomen. My body shudders with the sharpest jolt of pleasure, as a thought flutters through my mind.

  I think Silas may be right. I’m going to like this.

  Silas

  Goddamn, she’s gorgeous, with her pale pink skin, sparkling with a candy-scented something. Her entire body is bathed in sparkles, shimmering in the orange firelight. Her skin is cool and inviting and smelling like candy, for god’s sake, screaming to be tasted. Knowing how tentative she’s been, how afraid, to see her finally giving herself over to this other, unexplored side of herself, makes my cock throb in a way it never has.

  I lean in and taste her skin, nibbling her abdomen. It’s incredible. Genevieve has the sweetest skin I’ve ever tasted, and now she’s laid out in front of me, trembling, wanting me. Add to that the way her smooth, perfumed skin trembles as my tongue flicks over her skin, and the soft, delighted little coo that escapes her mouth, I know I’m not going to be satisfied until I’ve made her come again and again. She throws her head back as I trail my tongue down her perfectly sculpted abdomen, to her hip bone.

  “Oh,” she says softly, a blush on her cheeks. Every instinct that had been planted in her since birth wants her to cover up, to be quiet, to be the good, obedient, straight-A student who does exactly what her parents want. But I’m having none of that.

  I nibble my way over the rise of her hip bone, lapping down, toward her core, as she starts to move her ass closer to me, trying to urge me to where she wants me to be. I press my hands against her thighs, feeling the muscles straining underneath.

  Dipping my head down low, I push apart the sensitive skin of her thighs once more, my tongue finding the sensitive nub of her clit.

  Her mouth slides open, and an “ah,” escapes.

  No question, I’ve found the mark.

  Goddamn, she’s even sweeter here. Warm musk, mingling with the unique Genevieve scent of baby powder and candy. It sends a jolt of excitement through me, knowing she’s here, all laid out for my taking. Already wet and twitching, I know I won’t have to do much to send her over the edge.

  But where’s the fun in that?

  I want to take my time. Need to, because this feels like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one I won’t get back, considering how much I had to fight for the first one. If I have one chance with her, I’m not going to fuck it up.

  I pull away, sitting back on my haunches, beholding the most beautiful sight of her pussy; the natural, fine blonde hairs curling around her labia. Not shaven or waxed, like most of the women I’d been with since leaving the Bend, but real, and unspeakably gorgeous, easily the best-looking thing I’ve ever seen. Her tits are high and yet have a perfect sway to them, with large, pale pink nipples, which now, are harder than I’ve ever seen them. She’s here, laid out in front of me, wanting my attention. Begging for it. Predictably, she strains to lift her cunt off the cushion, toward me, pleading for more. Her face is contorted in desperation. “Please . . .”

  My cock strains against my pants. This sweet, sweet sight is almost too much for me to control. “What do you want me to do, Genevieve?”

  She whimpers a little. “I don’t . . .” she breathes.

  “Yes, you do, baby.”

  There are ridges of worry on her forehead now. She whispers, very softly, “Put your tongue on me.”

  I lean forward, and lap at her clit. “Like this?”

  She nods feverishly. “Please, Silas.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I need to taste her again, with a desire I’ve never felt before. I come up close again, so she can feel my breath on her core. She wiggles her ass toward me in anticipation. Calmly, with much more control than I’m feeling inside, I say to her, “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”

  She lets out a low, frustrated breath. Despite all her protests before, she wants this, now, more than anything.

  This time I go in with no hesitation, full gusto, diving in and lapping at her like a man possessed. She lets out a moan, loud and confident, and her head falls back as if on an oiled hinge. “Oh, my god.”

  I don’t have to ask if she likes it. I can tell from her short little breaths, from the way she’s tossing her head from side to side in abandon. I could probably stay here forever, just watching the ways in which her perfect body reacts, her chest heaving, her abdomen twitching. Listening to her deep moans of pleasure, building to an ear-shattering crescendo.

  “Keep going,” she commands me, lifting her head away from the backrest as she grinds her pussy against my face. She’s no longer that sweet, innocent girl who’d wanted to be covered up; her inhibitions were gone completely now. “I’m close.”

  When she comes, she screams and jerks forward, entangling her fingers through the hair at the back of my head. She lies back then, coming down, trembling visibly, sweat glistening between her perfect tits, looking perfectly spent.

  My cock’s still pulsing out a drumbeat, wanting attention, but every other part of my body feels perfectly spent, too, like her climax was been mine. “Every part of me feels like jelly,” she says.

  I smile at her as I wipe her juices off my mouth and crawl on the couch next to her. I hold her as she trembles, this woman that I’m crazy in love with, who I’m never going to let go again, no matter what the world throws at us. “Good?”

  She sits up and punches me in the chest. “Why did you make me wait that long?”

  The punch. It’s the sweetest pain I’ve ever felt. And if I get to feel it again and again, for the rest of my life, I’ll consider myself the luckiest man on earth. “I’m sorry I lied, baby,” I say to her. “But we are not a lie, and never have been. I want you with me.”

  “It’s okay. After all, I think I lied when I said I had no vices,” she says quietly. “Silas, you are my vice. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will be able to.”

  There she is, all walls down. The sweet, beautiful, honest Genevieve, freely admitting that she wants me just as much as I want her. Seizing the moment, I say, “So, I’m going to ask you this one more time. Because they say the third time is a charm.”

  She grins at me, which emboldens me more, because I know the answer even before I ask.

  “Be with me, Genevieve. Move in with me. Now and forever. We’ll make this work.”

  She looks around. “Pittsburgh?”

  “No. Cities move too fast for me, and this place is for rich assholes who want to flaunt their money,” I say. “The Bend. I happen to know a shitty little place there that we can fix up. It’s over an auto shop, but it’s only an hour away from the city.”

  Her face breaks out in a great big grin. She kisses me lightly on the lips. “I think you just might be right.” Then she snuggled up against me. “For once.”

  Unlearned (3 Chapter Preview)

  If you loved Unbroken, you’ll go crazy for Haley’s last book…..

  I shouldn’t want Addison this much. Or at all.

  She’s my student, for god’s sake.

  But she’s so sweet, so innocent, and so, so, bendable to my every whim.

  Her mother wants her to be a doctor, but Addison? She has no idea what she wants.

  I’ll help her find out, on one condition: I’m sure as hell going to be a part of it. Because I need her. I need to touch her, to taste

  her, to invade her soul the way she’s invaded mine.

  Shakespeare said it best. I am her slave, with no choice to tend to her desires. Whatever they may be.

  Addison

  I don’t care what it takes, just get it done.

  Those words race through my mind as I jump to attention at four in the morning on the first day of my senior year at Marysville University. I climb from my white frilly fortress of eyelet and lace, listening to owls and crickets making their nocturnal noises, reminding me everyone normal s
hould still be asleep.

  But you’re not normal, Addison. You’re a McBride. McBrides are exceptional. Norms don’t apply to us.

  My mother’s words of wisdom, again. I’m not even fully awake and she’s already invaded my head twice today.

  With my mouth stuck in a never-ending yawn, I scuff into my slippers and cross my bedroom to my desk, where my Mac is already open. I jostle the screen awake and stare at the words in front of me:

  AMCAS: American Medical Colleges Application Service, Application for Admission

  I take a breath and open section one.

  Okay. Time to get this done.

  The first questions are background information. Not too tough, even though over my childhood, my address has changed more times than my mother’s hair color, each home growing bigger and more luxurious as the years have gone by. But despite the fact that most of this stuff will likely be a lot easier than what’ll come once – or if—I’m finally accepted, I haven’t been able to get my butt in gear to submit the application. My mother was furious with me when she learned I’d forgotten the early decision date in August. After all, I’ve wanted to become a doctor since I was two. I’m not one to procrastinate, either. I’d been taking extra summer classes in anatomy and physiology to get ahead, and despite my mother’s four-hundred reminders and circling the date in red on the calendar above my desk, I’d just . . . spaced.

  That makes me public enemy number one on my mother’s shit-list.

  In my mind, there is no scarier place to be. I’d rather face a firing squad—at least that way, the pain is over quickly.

  I shiver in the cranked-up AC as my fingers work over the keyboard. By the time the sun starts to slash its first orange rays through the blinds, I’m on section seven: college choice. I scroll through them, the cursor hovering over my one and only choice.

  Harvard Medical School. I check the box, wishing I could double outline it, or circle it, or something, just to let them know how much I want it.