Flawlessly Broken (Broken #2)
Page 9
Cue open-mouthed gape.
Shit.
He was right.
How did he know that after two days and I hadn’t figured it out in four years?
He must have seen the question on my face because he said, “My sister is a psychiatrist and her love of psychoanalyzing people rubbed off over the years. Clay hates it. Drives him crazy.” He shrugged helplessly. “It’s a curse.”
“You’re good, I’ll give you that. It never occurred to me, not once,” I admitted.
He turned his chair sideways, facing me fully for the first time. His eyes searched my face for something, but I was too enthralled to care. God, his eyes were inky black and seemed to pull you into them like they had their own gravity. I actually leaned toward him a bit before catching myself.
“You don’t need to be treated as if you’re made of glass. You need someone who knows your secrets and losses but doesn’t view any of it as weakness or fragility.” He reached out and took my hand, his thumb running gently across the back. “You’re too strong a woman to allow yourself to be handled with kid gloves. They’re wrong to do that to you. You’re not broken, sweetheart, and you never will be. You’re absolutely perfect just the way you are.”
Damn it. I hated to be called perfect. Truly hated it. He couldn’t have been expected to know that, though.
I withdrew my hand and swiped at my cheek, brushing back my hair. “Maybe you’re right. Everyone will lighten up eventually.” I needed a subject change. I eyed his half-eaten breakfast. “You better finish up before it gets cold. Nothing worse than cold eggs. No matter how much other stuff is mixed in, it’s not good at room temp.”
I went back to my food and prayed he’d do the same.
I could feel him watching me for a minute or two before he finally took my advice and polished off his meal. Afterward, he collected both our plates and rinsed them in the sink while I put away the leftovers. He was in my kitchen again and seemed right at home. He just went with the flow, no matter what, never getting flustered or halting.
Except when presented with the task of diagnosing a possibly broken ass.
That one had gotten him.
I tucked the last of the food away with an amused smirk and wondered how I could get him again.
Spencer
IF I’D THOUGHT it was heartbreaking to hear Talia talk about her daughter, it was nothing compared to seeing her talk to her daughter. I sat in my car on the narrow ‘street’ that snaked through Forest Lawn Cemetery and watched with an aching chest as Talia sat on a small stone bench near the foot of Amelia’s grave. Her lips barely moved as she spoke to her dead child, as if she were finding it difficult to speak. She kept her head down for the most part, though whether out of respect for the departed or avoidance of the glaring afternoon sun, I couldn’t say.
After a while, she rose and knelt at the headstone, slipping Cameron’s note into the lidded stone chalice that matched a second one which was holding the yellow daisies we’d stopped off to get on our way.
Amelia’s favorite color.
I’d been sitting with a grip on the door handle for quite some time, fighting against the urge to go to her, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.
When we’d arrived, I assured Talia that she could take as long as she needed, feigning that I needed to make some business calls and check in with Brant. I didn’t want her rushing through her visit out of worry for my time. There wasn’t a single thing on earth that was more important than what I was doing right then and I’d wait all week, if she needed me to.
And I didn’t so much as glance at my phone.
All of my focus was on her, as it should be.
I wasn’t spying, I needed to keep an eye on her in case she had another dizzy spell.
Yeah, that’s why. Suuuure.
The truth of it was I couldn’t help it. I felt the need to watch over her, not because she was recovering from a concussion, but because that was what one did when presented with a beautiful butterfly. Your eyes were drawn to it, watched it float on the breeze until it was out of sight, or if you were lucky, it would land and you had it close for a bit longer.
Jeez. I really needed to lay off the nature shows.
But it was the truth.
A little while later, she slipped into the seat next to me. A single sniffle was all she uttered before nodding toward the sorrow flanked road out of the cemetery.
It was time to go.
WE MADE IT back to her apartment building not long afterward and I once again walked her upstairs. There was an older gentleman behind the desk in the lobby this time. He smiled fondly as we passed, the tightness in his expression telling me he was familiar enough with Talia’s routine to know where she’d just been.
Another tip-toer.
We took the elevator up, standing in silence as the numbers changed. By unspoken agreement, I escorted her inside and hung up our coats while she put on a fresh pot of coffee. The chilly afternoon was reason enough to indulge in another cup, but I was also looking forward to the homemade creamer from that morning. It was better than anything I’d ever found at the grocery store, that was for damn sure.
Talia hadn’t said much since leaving Forest Lawn, and I didn’t push her out of respect for the situation. But I couldn’t let it go on much longer. I had to help her out of her funk before it took hold like the Derek situation had.
I gave her a few more minutes of quiet, let her sip her coffee in peace. After a while, I picked up my mug and moved to sit beside her on the couch. “So, have you given any thought to what I said earlier?”
She bunched her brow in confusion. “About what?”
“About not being treated like you’re made of glass.”
“What about it?”
“Do you agree?”
Her expression relaxed a bit and she sat her coffee on the end table. “Yeah, I do, but I have no idea how to get that across to people.”
“I’ve always been an ‘actions speak louder than words’ kind of guy, myself. That’s where I’d start.”
“Okay, what exactly do you suggest? Should I march up to my friends and family and demand they stop being so nice? Tell them that their consideration of my feelings is pissing me off?” She was on the verge of an eye roll, I could feel it.
That damned attitude, her instinct to challenge everything I said was what drove me to do it. It was beyond my control. “No, sweetheart. Start right here,” I whispered it so low that it barely rumbled through my chest.
And with that, I pulled her into my lap and kissed the ever-loving shit out of her.
I STARTED SLOW, barely tasting then retreating before delving deeper, one hand on the curve of her hip as she sat sideways across my lap, the other tangled in the hair at her nape. Everywhere I touched was soft, smooth, perfect.
She’d been too startled to respond at first, but was happily participating in no time.
We nipped at each other’s lips as our fingers dug into one another’s flesh, mine into her hip and hers into my biceps. Before long, her arms snaked around my neck and pulled me into her, as if we weren’t close enough for her liking.
I could fix that, and I would, but not yet.
I hadn’t kissed anyone like this in a long time, hadn’t even wanted to, so I planned to drag this out until we were both half out of our minds with lust. Then I’d give her the closeness she craved.
She whimpered into my mouth when I leaned back, pulling away to look at her.
“You have the softest lips I’ve ever tasted.” I smiled, running a hand along her jaw and admiring the color in her cheeks. This wasn’t her blushing. This was desire.
She placed a finger on my bottom lip, barely sweeping it across from corner to corner. “You taste like vanilla.” She watched my mouth curve into a smile, fixated.
“I can’t decide what you taste like yet, only that it’s sweet and I want more of it. All of it.” Her breath hitched and she tried to tug me to her again but I resisted.
“Sweetheart, I like your enthusiasm but you’re forgetting what I said. No kid gloves. And that means no automatically deferring to your wishes, not this time.” I kissed her chin and pulled back to meet her eye. “I’m setting the pace, Talia. Nothing happens before I say so, do you understand?”
She looked on the verge of arguing and I waited her out while my words sank in, hands dropping to my sides. If she didn’t agree, I’d walk away.
I’d walk away with a raging case of blue-balls, but whatever.
She took her sweet time deciding and I sat quietly waiting her out. Her expression slowly slipped from affronted to curious and eventually to something resembling relief. She needed this, but it had taken me making a stand to get her out of her own way and admit it.
She lifted her hand to touch my face, pausing briefly to search my eyes for permission. I gave a small nod and that was it, she was mine.
And I was alive for the first time in years.
Talia ran her hand over the stubble that lined my jaw, not a full-on beard but close enough. I liked the look but kept it trimmed to maintain a professional air.
And I was contemplating doing some decidedly non-professional things with it, like running the stubble first across her breasts and then her thighs. And the more delicate the flesh, the better I liked the idea of scraping my face across it.
I threaded my hand back into her hair and tugged her forward, pulling her mouth to mine. Control was mine. She responded but never tried to take over.
My hips thrust against her backside and she gasped into my mouth, the beginning of an involuntary cycle.
Gasp.
Thrust.
Gasp.
Fuck, I couldn’t help it. The sound of those sharp inhalations was hot as hell, especially since every time she did it, she literally sucked the air out of me. What little breath she hadn’t already stolen.
It made my head swim, and somewhere in the back of my mind I heard a small, annoyingly judgmental voice telling me I was crossing a line. I ignored it and slipped an arm under her, lifting her to me as I’d done so many times that weekend, but this time with drastically different intent.
Clutching her to my chest and keeping my lips on hers, I stood and made my way down the hall toward her bedroom. When I got to it, the door was closed and she reached around distractedly to open it, flinging it open with enough force to slam it against the wall behind.
I stuck my foot out to keep the rebounding door from hitting us and she giggled, pulling away with light dancing in her eyes. It was the purest, sexiest laugh I’d ever heard.
Her expression was decidedly hungry by the time I strode across the room to the bed, lowering her onto the pale, rose-colored comforter and following her down. I lay slightly to the side, not in any rush, propping my head up with my arm and watching her.
She stilled under my gaze, looking unsure. “Everything all right? Having second thoughts?” Her voice was laced with disappointment.
I grazed her jaw with my free hand and shook my head. “Never, sweetheart. I was giving you a moment to be sure you wanted this. Take your time and be absolutely positive. I’ll just lay here and enjoy the fantastic view.” And it was pretty damn fantastic. The soft curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts pressing hard against her fitted tee shirt, her impossibly long legs that I so desperately wanted wrapped around me... it was all stunning.
We lay there for a while, each of us studying the other, looking for something we couldn’t pinpoint but could feel there between us, pulling us together.
“I want you, Spencer. No doubts, reservations, or conditions. Make love to me.” Her voice was low and husky with desire.
I gripped the back of her slender neck and pulled her so close that our lips were nearly touching. “Sweetheart, if you want me, you can damn sure have me.” I placed a soft kiss on her swollen, beard scraped lips. “That will be the last request I grant you, though. From here on out, I’m in charge.” I nipped her lip with my teeth and she moaned in agreement.
I pulled away and sat up on my knees, face betraying nothing as I told her, “Sit up and face me, mirror my position.”
Her chest heaved as she followed my instructions. After settling to her knees, she watched me for further directions.
I motioned for her to bridge the gap between us, nodding when our knees touched and she settled back to sit on her ankles. “Now, the shirt. Take it off.”
She pulled it over her head without comment, revealing a soft pink cotton bra that clearly showed her nipples. She looked at me with hooded eyes that traveled the length of my torso, as if waiting for me to reciprocate.
“What? Do you think I should remove mine as well?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Yes.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll take anything off just yet. Maybe I’ll wait until you’re naked. Maybe I won’t even get undressed then. I mean, I don’t need to undress to do a lot of the things I plan to do to you. Why rush?”
Annoyance flared in her eyes but she said nothing.
“Who decides, Talia?”
“You do.”
“Good.” I reached out and grazed my knuckles across her tightened nipple. “Do you want me to touch you? Maybe suck these into my mouth?”
She shuddered but held my eye. “I want what you want, baby.”
“Baby? I think I like that.” I rubbed her harder, tweaking her nipple until she shivered. “I wonder what you’ll be calling me by the time I finish with you.” I pointed to her jeans. “Off. Now.”
Taking one’s pants off while kneeling like that takes some finesse, but she managed.
Her panties, like her bra, were fairly simple. A matching shade of pink with a smattering of lace at her hip bones. And it made my fucking mouth water. I’d never been hung up on expensive lingerie. Frankly, I detested it simply because it cost so much to replace when I ripped it the fuck out of my way.
I ran a finger along the edge of the soft, cotton fabric, barely skimming beneath the thin elastic band. I kept my eyes on her the whole time, gauging her response. Her breath picked up, the deeper I delved beneath her panties, eyes widening when I neared her mound. She kept glancing at my mouth as if waiting for me to kiss her.
I kept her waiting a while longer, alternating caresses between her breasts and inner thighs, never placing any pressure directly where she wanted it.
By the time I kissed her again, she was squirming and panting. I continued to tease her with my hands even as my mouth gave her a bit of what she craved. I intentionally grazed her folds through her panties and smiled into her mouth when she gasped. When I pulled my lips from hers, she actually groaned in frustration.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I teased. “Something you want? Are you wet for me already?” I couldn’t contain my smirk.
“I’ve been wet for you since before I even knew you were here.” She looked at me in challenge.
I froze, confused and temporarily thrown. “How so?”
It was her turn to smirk and she was enjoying the hell out of it. “I was imagining you in the shower, right before I fell.”
Oh holy fuck. Don’t react. Don’t do it.
“Is that right?” I schooled my expression to one of boredom. Barely.
She chuckled and went in for the kill, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Oh yeah. I thought you being here had been a dream. I was picturing your head between my legs right about the time you called out and scared me. Two more minutes and you would have heard me coming and calling your name.”
And it’s Talia for the win.
“I won’t be missing the opportunity to hear it today, sweetheart. Lay back. I want to make your fantasies come true.” I practically growled it at her and, when she didn’t instantly comply, I tackled her to the mattress, ripped off those damned pink panties, and buried my face in her pussy, pushing her legs as far apart as I could so I could get in deep.
She was so startled, she cried out when I pinned her. Soon, she was crying ou
t again and I was treated to a delightful rendition of ‘oh, Spencer... yes, Spencer... that’s so good.’ The panted mantra went on for what felt like ages, music to my ears.
I used my lips, my tongue, my fingers, and—much to Talia’s delight—my beard. I couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, sweet and warm. I devoured her with a fervor I’d never before felt. She must have come half a dozen times and still, I kept at it.
And since she wanted to know what it felt like for me to eat her in the shower that was happening too.
Never threaten me with a good time.
By the time it was over, she’d be shuddering in that shower and begging me to stop while simultaneously pressing herself harder against my mouth.
But first...
I lifted my head and met her eyes, her breasts heaved and her brow glistened with sweat. I couldn’t help the cocky grin on my face. “Should I continue here, or did you intend to have me fuck you in that fantasy of yours?” Her legs trembled under my palms, still splayed wide. Just like her eyes. Apparently, she wasn’t used to such blunt conversation. From the way she bit her lip and wiggled her ass against the comforter, she must have liked it. “Are you going to answer me, Talia, or am I to assume we are finished here? I can go now, if you’ve lost interest.” I loved the fleeting look of panic on her face.
She wanted me right where I was.
“I... I mean, you...” she stammered. “The fantasy didn’t get that far. Remember?”
I blew a breath across her dripping pussy, delighting in the way she squirmed. “Yes, but now I’m wondering if that was the first time you fantasized about me.” I leveled my gaze at her and could read the truth in her eyes. “Was it?”
She dropped her eyes and I pinched her thigh, not hard, but enough to get her to look at me. I raised a brow and waited.
“No,” she admitted, her face flushing scarlet.
I’d known as soon as I asked, but hearing her say it, fuck. My hips thrust of their own accord, pressing my erection into the mattress but finding no relief. I leaned down and ran my tongue the length of her, taking my time but making only one pass before meeting her eye again. “And what did I do in these fantasies? Other than pleasuring you with my tongue, of course. Did I fuck your mouth? Your pussy?” I trailed a finger over her clit, then down to barely breech her opening before delving lower. “Your ass?”