Breakaway: A New Adult Anthology

by Jay McLean

  She smirked a tiny bit, plucking at her skirt. “Perhaps I’m too sensitive.”

  Yeah, and I wasn’t used to the sweet girls.

  “I’m sorry about being crabby before,” she said, laughing a little. “Traveling makes me crazy.”

  I smiled. “I’m not at my best either. Truce?”

  She nodded, her smile brilliant, making me do a double take. Hmmm, Miss Priss was pretty.

  I remembered her kindle. “Maybe I should read your book. Truth be told, I was in love once, but…well…it didn’t turn out like I wanted.” I laughed like it was funny, but the pain of that affair still stung.

  She glanced over at me. “It was an Amazon bestseller.”

  Ha. And so was Sizzling Hot Alien Love.

  “There you go. I must know the details then.” I gave her my full attention, glad we were talking again. I liked her. Maybe it was the business clothes and the sexy bra or maybe it was her innocence. I mean, what girl believes she can make a guy fall in love with her?

  Her lips curled up. “It’s really kinda silly. But, there’s this guy at school…Nico…he’s Italian and gorgeous, by the way. We’re just friends, but I want more. He says it will ruin our friendship.”

  Douche. Taffy being disappointed in love irked me. “If you have to try that hard, maybe you should move on. Find out who else is out there.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a woman’s intuition thing. I know he wants me, but for some reason, he denies it. If I could just see me, then maybe he’d come around. I mean, we hang out all the time.” Her eyes went dreamy on me. “He’s perfect with these delicious blue eyes. And he works out.”

  I scowled. I didn’t like Nico one bit. “So is this book working for you?”

  She twisted the buttons on her blouse, drawing attention to her sweet cleavage. “I haven’t tried it on him yet.”

  “Then practice on me. Use some of those wiles from the book. Let me be your guinea pig.”

  She peeked at me, her green eyes gleaming like bright emeralds.

  “How do you make a guy fall, Taffy?” I murmured. “Tell me the rules.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too silly.”

  I laughed. “What’s silly is you think you aren’t pretty enough for this Nico. He’d be lucky to have you,” I said.

  “Be provocative.”

  I blinked. Oh, the rules. “Yeah?”

  She licked her lips and nodded. “It’s the one I’ve been working on lately.”

  I tugged at the collar of my shirt, feeling warm. “Do you know how to be provocative?” I doubted it.

  She considered me for a moment, then reached up and pulled her hair out of the bun, creating a cascade of long dark hair around her face. Thick and wavy, it curled over her shoulders into big ringlets, making me want to pick one of those strands up and run my fingers through it.

  “Nice,” I said, taking in the vision she became with her hair down. I liked it. A lot.

  Then she hooked her fingers through her string of pearls and stroked them almost absently. I can’t deny I was a bit mesmerized by the combo of the hair and the necklace.

  “You been practicing?” I asked, my eyes watching her tantalize those beads, imagining them in more erotic locations. In her mouth, on her stomach, on her…

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “You’re very good,” I said, shifting in my jeans.

  She dropped the pearls to show me her kindle, and I mourned the loss. “It’s right here,” she said, “if you want some tips.”

  Tips? Oh. Right. I skimmed it, reading the stupidity.

  Be clean. Shower and wear deodorant. And while you’re at it, shave those legs, armpits, and Southern parts. No man likes hair unless he’s a Neanderthal.

  Dress for him. Wear sexy clothing and undergarments. Never wear sweats in front of the man you want to fall in love with you.

  Curl your hair/ wear make-up. Cover up blemishes and flaws. Warts and pimples are not a turn-on. Get plastic surgery if you can afford it.

  Wear perfume. Something exotic and—

  Stop. This was such utter drivel.

  “Fascinating,” I said. Please. Surely she didn’t…

  She must have been a human lie detector. “You think it’s awful.”

  “No. I mean, yes, I do. It’s common sense to do those things. Except for wearing sweats. Nothing wrong with some tight yoga pants.”

  She glared. Yeah, I wasn’t helping much.

  “But your hair’s beautiful. You should always wear it down, and you already smell amazing, and the pearl thing? Very sexy.”

  She picked them back up, a bemused expression on her face. “These? I wear them every day.”

  I grinned. “I have this vision of twisting that strand around your neck and holding you down while I take what I want from behind.”

  Her eyes got huge as saucers. “I—I don’t think—“

  I’m an impulsive guy, so I didn’t stop to think of the repercussions. I grabbed that necklace, pulled her shocked face to mine, and laid one on her. She was hot in an understated way, and I liked it.

  Her lips parted, and I groaned at the softness of her mouth. She sighed, her hands wrapping around my nape and pulling me closer. I delved deeper, exploring the recesses of her, and she gave back tit for tat, her little moans cranking me up. My tongue traced her lips, devouring the cherry-flavored lip gloss I tasted. I could feast on her for days, I decided.

  There’s something about a first kiss that makes me high, and I’ve had plenty of them, but this one was different. Maybe it’s because it was the only one I’d had while flying through the air at five hundred miles an hour. Maybe it was because she wasn’t my usual type, hard and experienced, but soft and sweet, like taffy.

  After several minutes of intense kissing, I came up for air. “Fuck me,” I breathed against her lips. I meant it as an interjection, of course.

  “Yes,” she breathed back, and I got all tangled up inside and confused. Hold on, wait a minute. Did she mean that as an expression, or did she mean Yes, I want to be part of the mile-high club?

  My hand cupped her cheek as I gazed into her slightly dilated eyes. If she was offering, we’d manage it. There was always the bathroom. I’d go first, and then she’d come…oh yeah, she would. I shivered at the image in my head. Perhaps we could stay in our seats and use the blanket she had. My mind raced with the possibilities, getting pumped. I don’t know what it was about her, but she made me feel like I was fifteen again and about to get my first taste.

  Ding! The fasten seat belt light flashed on as we hit turbulence. Great.

  She sucked in a sharp breath, fear replacing desire.

  “I hate flying,” she said, clutching my hand. I stared down at it in bemusement. I hadn’t held hands in years.

  She sat back in her seat and stared out at the sky. I attempted to make conversation, but she’d zoned out a little. I figured it was the wine kicking in.

  The commotion went on intermittently for ten minutes until the pilot finally elevated us up another couple thousand feet, away from the buffering. When I glanced over at her, she’d fallen asleep. And there you go. The story of my life. I meet a nice girl, kiss her, and fate steps in and says, No, you wanker, she is not for you.

  I tucked the blanket around her and put her kindle aside. Time ticked by slowly, and I kept checking, but she didn’t stir. Should I poke her?

  I wanted to shove my hand in her hair and pull her lips back to mine.

  I settled for watching her sleep. Weird.

  Debbie walked by a few times, her eyes eating me up like I was her last meal. Well, airplane food does suck. I mostly ignored her, but on her second swipe through when she brought me some nuts and a soda, I grinned back. I needed a distraction before I saw my father.

  Why was I waiting for Taffy to wake when Debbie was available? I should be all over her, not tapping my foot, waiting for Sleeping Beauty. And let’s be honest, Taffy and I hooking up was not a smart idea.
She was too good for me, and besides, I made it a policy to only go for the girls who wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t call them the next day. What if I was the one making Taffy sad and not Nico? I wouldn’t want that. Perhaps it was time to nip us before we ever got started.

  Debbie whispered in my ear. “Meet me in the bathroom at the back of the plane.”

  I arched a brow.

  “Less people there,” she added, giving me sultry look with those smoky eyes. Hmmm, why not?

  She straightened up. “Five minutes?”

  I flicked my eyes over to Taffy. Still out. And I was horny from our kiss—I checked my watch—an hour and a half ago.

  I nodded, but I felt guilty. And that thought freaked me out. I had no commitment with Taffy. I was a free man.

  Four minutes later I still hadn’t left my seat. I don’t know why.

  Then I remembered I was headed to New York to see my father. I’d have to watch him fawn over some girl young enough to be his daughter. I’d have to stay in his penthouse and listen while he lectured me about what a disappointment I was. We’d have the same old arguments. Yeah, it’d be like that. One big suck fest.

  With that thought in mind, I unbuckled and sauntered to the back.

  I eased in that antiseptic-smelling, cramped bathroom, and when I heard the knock at the door, I opened it. She slithered in, smelling like a perfume counter at the mall. I didn’t let our eyes meet, but she didn’t seem to care. I didn’t kiss her on the mouth either. I just couldn’t, and I didn’t want to think about the reasons why.

  I got hot, and not in a good way, probably from the lack of space. I swallowed convulsively, wondering if I was going to hurl. What was wrong with me? Was seeing my father affecting me this much?

  She must have sensed my hesitation because she unsnapped my jeans, sending the familiar tingle all the way down to my toes. Yeah, I needed this. Maybe it would make me feel better.

  Debbie seemed like she’d done the dirty before in a plane if her directions on limb placement were anything to go by. It only took six minutes, tops, both of us reaching a new kind of high at thirty thousand feet. We couldn’t get too crazy, with other people just a few feet away, but I liked to think it was memorable for her. Not so much for me. I’d probably not recall her name. I’d never want to.

  Sex with her made me forget about the monsters that stomped around in my head. I hated their little whispers about how I’d never amount to anything, how the people that loved me always leave. Being with her snuffed out the voices and gave me something else to think about.

  Sex filled the blackness I had inside.

  She wasn’t the first girl I’d taken in a toilet; she wouldn’t be the last.

  A few minutes later, I settled back in my seat, feeling one part relaxed, but the other was decidedly off-kilter.

  Chapter FOUR: TAFFY

  “Are you kidding me?” –Taffy

  Oh, he didn’t fool me one bit. Did he actually think I was really asleep? Okay, maybe I had been, but as soon as that slutty flight attendant came over, my ears had perked up.

  And he’d gone back there! He’d been with some skank he’d just met. I mentally shook my head. And I’d kissed him. Fuck. And I never say fuck. I preferred flick.

  I stirred around in my seat, adjusting my shirt and pearls and hair. It’s not like I’d ever see him again. He wasn’t a student at NYU or part of my social crowd, obviously. He was some two-bit musician playing in a band. That was all.

  “You decide to wake up?” he asked, avoiding my gaze.

  “You back from your rendezvous in the bathroom?” I replied, cool as a cucumber. “Classy.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

  Uh-huh. I was glad I’d only kissed him and hadn’t fooled around like I’d been contemplating. “I can only imagine what the poor passengers in the back of the plane heard.”

  “You were asleep.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “And you’re too nice for—“

  “I wasn’t attracted to you anyway,” I snapped.

  He lasered me with assessing brown eyes. “Is that right?”

  I nodded. “I was half-baked on wine and pills when I kissed you. Get over yourself.”

  “Sticking with good ole Rico, huh? The boy who never shows you any attention? He never will as long as you keep up this whole holier-than-thou attitude. If you want to break down some walls between you and this tosser, then live a little. Quit carrying your pillow on an airplane. Dress like you belong in this century. Stop harassing me because I shagged the flight attendant. Put those rules in your stupid book.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “His name is Nico, and you smell like sex and cheap perfume. I hope that gives you warm fuzzies tonight when you walk around with her scent on you.”

  I pushed in my earplugs from my IPOD and ignored him. How humiliating that he’d chosen her over me. How disgusting that I’d even kissed him. What was wrong with me that I always chose the ones who didn’t choose me back?

  It’s not you, my ex-boyfriends always said, but it was me. I’d been dumped too many times for it not to be. Either they cheated, found out they were gay, or got intimidated by my money. The list went on and on. I was sick of being last. I was sick of being a doormat.

  I’d chosen poorly once again.

  And to make matters worse, I didn’t really have any friends to speak of. Nico? I wasn’t sure why he kept me around. My roommate hated me. Marge did, too. My professors mostly ignored me. My mother was controlling. My father was dead. My life was pathetic.

  The plane began its descent to LaGuardia.

  I clenched my teeth, dug my nails into my palms, and pretended I wasn’t upset. I couldn’t figure out if it was the usual flight fear or anger at believing he’d been into me.

  Bah.

  We finally taxied in and after a few minutes came to a stop. He shot up as soon as we could and left, making his way to Debbie. She handed him his guitar and a card. It probably had her contact deets on it. I hated to tell her, but I didn’t think he’d be calling. I suspected he never called girls.

  My phone buzzed. It was Mother.

  Waiting for you downstairs next to baggage claim.

  I groaned. I wanted to get home, crawl under the covers and push aside this horrible spring break. And if I was honest, I wanted to call Nico, and if he didn’t answer, maybe I’d swing by his place and see if he was home. See, I’m a sucker for punishment.

  Chapter FIVE: SPIDER

  “I never said I was a nice guy.” –Spider

  We landed uneventfully. Taffy practically hugged the window the entire time. Yeah, I’d disappointed her. I sighed. Just one more girl I’d hurt.

  She was lucky she’d gotten away from me. I wasn’t any good.

  Debbie handed off my case, but before I walked through the door, I couldn’t resist one last look back at Taffy. She was checking her phone, and I wondered if it was Nico. Not that I cared. But I admitted I was curious about her Italian.

  I hung back where she couldn’t see me and waited for her to pass. It was completely irrational, but I wanted to see who was meeting her.

  She walked right past me, and I slid in behind her, my eyes stuck like glue to that heart-shaped ass. Maybe there was something about dressing like a hot librarian.

  She came to an abrupt halt at the baggage claim, her attention caught by something or someone? I followed her gaze, and it led straight to…what the bloody hell…my father? That couldn’t be right.

  My gut clenched at the disgusting thought of my father with Taffy.

  Then I saw her. A blonde lady in her mid-forties came into focus as she glided up to Taffy and gave her the air-cheek kiss.

  Did that mean…

  And sure enough, Taffy was moving forward to meet my father. I blinked, my eyes bouncing from him to the older lady and back to Taffy.

  I hauled my ass over to them, stopping behind Taffy who hadn’t noticed yet.

  “Clarence,” he said, making me cr
inge at the sound of my birth name. Would it hurt for him to call me Spider like everyone else? I’d only had the nickname for twenty years.

  I inclined my head, and as if in slo-mo, Taffy turned to me.

  The whole airport zoomed out as she looked at me with those wide green eyes.

  Yeah, she’d thought she’d seen the last of me.

  “And who might these two ladies be?” I asked my father.

  He wrapped his arms around the lady. “This is Penelope Farnsworth, my fiancée, and this,” he nodded at Taffy,” is your soon-to-be stepsister, Primrose.”

  Fiancée? I shook my head at the lunacy. This would make marriage number four for him.

  But Taffy as a step-sister? Uh…

  I gave her my full attention.

  “Primrose?” Oh, it fit. It really did. And to think I’d nearly opened that flower.

  “Clarence?” she snipped back.

  I must be certifiably insane. Because I leaned down and kissed her boldly on the lips, my tongue swiping at her lower lip. I got a jolt of electricity that went straight to my crotch.

  “Nice to meet you, Prim,” I murmured, eyes at half-mast.

  She wiped a hand over her mouth and glared at me.

  I grinned.

  New York just got interesting.

  The End

  Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Ilsa Madden-Mills is a loving wife and mother, a loyal friend, and teacher. When all that is done, she writes. Obsessively.

  She loves spending time with her two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.

  When she’s not typing away at a story, you can find her jamming out to Pink, checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash, or browsing on Etsy. Find her on Facebook, Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. She loves to chat.

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  http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com/

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