Break On Through

by Ridgway, Christie

  “With me?” he asked. “Or is this enough?” Then he flipped the spoon, his fingers wrapped around the bowl so the thick handle nudged her clit then skimmed her wet flesh to find her entrance. He eased inside, the intrusion unbearably arousing.

  Hot and shaking, Cleo lost her breath. Lost her voice. Her fingers clutched at him as he penetrated her in short, careful strokes.

  Moaning, she lifted her hips, trying to take more.

  “Shh,” Reed said. “Don’t move.” Shifting lower on the mattress, he eluded her grasping clutch.

  Through half-closed eyes, she saw him watching the penetration of her wet flesh with an avid gaze. His focus, his fascination, coiled the already-tight arousal. Making a noise low in her throat, she lifted her hips again, but he placed his free hand flat against her belly, holding her to the bed.

  “Oh, God.” His control of her body made every one of her muscles tighten and tense.

  “Do you want to come, Cleo?” The dark whisper was another sensation on her skin.

  “Please,” she said, and then cried out when he pulled the spoon free…only to tap the wet, slippery inches that had been inside her against her engorged clit.

  Her body detonated. Still pinned by his hand on her belly, she came with a desperation she’d never experienced, jolting with each surge of sweet, fevered pleasure. He leaned up for a deep kiss, as if knowing she needed his tongue in her mouth.

  She sucked at it with greed and then with less intensity, calming herself as the spasms slowly diminished. Finally, there was only the occasional tremor and he eased back. Cleo swallowed. “That was…”

  “Not finished,” he said, smiling at her as he reached for a condom and the fastening of his jeans. “There’s a very satisfying epilogue.”

  He wasn’t wrong. This time, it was his penis, thick and long, that eased inside her. He hovered over her on his elbows, his gaze taking in every expression on her face as he impaled her. She was grateful for his attention because she needed time to get accustomed to the intrusion. But it was a curiously exciting discomfort.

  And when he was all the way in, the way he groaned and dropped his head to her throat thrilled her.

  It all thrilled her. His wide shoulders, his strong back, the rhythm of his thrusts. Cleo found herself writhing again. He was breathing hard, color high in that elegant face. One of his hands slid between her bottom and the mattress to lift her into his strokes. She opened her legs as wide as she could and when he pushed into her again she ground her clit against the root of him…and came.

  He followed immediately, and she pushed her head into the pillow and soared at the thought that gorgeous Reed Hopkins had climaxed in her arms.

  When he lay at her side, she didn’t know what to say. So she allowed herself to feel, instead. Elation, satisfaction…happiness.

  Reed rolled his head her way, and it was the tenderness in her expression that stopped her heart. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled, and lifted her hand to touch his cheek. “I’m more than all right, you’ve got to know that.”

  His answering smile was more of a smirk, and entirely male. “Good.”

  More smugness. It made Cleo laugh. She opened her mouth, unsure what she’d say next and hope it wasn’t something completely witless like “This is the happiest I’ve ever been in years.”

  Then, in the distance, her cell phone signaled a call. She struggled to her elbows, remembering they’d left it…where?

  “I’ll get it,” Reed said, and shoved into his jeans. In moments he was back.

  The number on the screen said the boys’ school. Frowning, she accepted the call and brought the device to her ear.

  The best morning in recent memory turned into her worst nightmare.

  From his place beside her perched on the top of a picnic table, Reed glanced at Cleo, saw that she continued to stare at her children playing on the equipment at a suburban park ten miles outside their neighborhood. Upon getting that phone call, she’d raced into jeans and a T-shirt. Shoved her feet into a pair of flip flops.

  He wasn’t sure she’d even realized he’d climbed into her car, riding shotgun on her short trip to the local elementary school. When she’d gone inside, he’d hung out in the parking lot. Upon her return a half-hour later, this time with the kids and their backpacks in tow, she’d blinked as if she was surprised to see him.

  Eli had looked wary and Obie just like the bouncy little kid he was. He’d told Reed that his mom was taking them out of school early as a special treat and they were getting ice cream before lunch.

  The expression on his big brother’s face revealed there was more to the story.

  Now, post strawberry and chocolate cones, the kids were running off the sugar rush.

  He opened his mouth, but Cleo beat him to start the conversation. “Why are you here?”

  Christ, did he have to explain? “I heard morning ice cream. Irresistible.”

  “I mean, why did you get in the car in first place?”

  Because her response to that call indicated there was some kind of trouble. And minutes before she’d answered it, he’d been buried deep in her body. Everyone knew he was aloof and detached, but he’d smelled of her sex at that moment. His conscience wouldn’t allow her to go off alone wearing that expression of almost-panic.

  “Reed?”

  He shrugged. “What any man would do.”

  She choked out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob.

  The noise seemed to wring his previously hard, inflexible heart. His hand rubbed at the pain in his chest and the truth was, if he was any closer to home, he might have run there to escape it.

  “You should tell someone what’s going on,” he heard himself say.

  “You?”

  Not him. He liked his imaginary world where the monsters were ones he made up and that he could vanquish when he liked. Real life didn’t work that way and he didn’t want to be sucked into a drama that involved nervous children and bruised women.

  Squeezing shut his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. But the memory of those photos of her wouldn’t go away. Like the dangling legs, the small shoes, they’d been branded on his psyche.

  “What happened today?” he asked.

  Her hands were tightly entwined with each other, the knuckles white. Their grip was too tight. Reaching over, he worked at the knot of fingers. Once one hand was free, he brought it to his thigh and covered it with his. “You’re cold,” he said, which spoke to her emotional state, because the outside temperature was near eighty.

  And yet her skin was icy. Nothing like the flushed warmth of her limbs when they’d been together in bed. “Do you have a sweater in your car?”

  When she shook her head, he scooted his ass down the wood and pulled her nearer his side. She was stiff, but he put up with that, not dropping the arm that circled her shoulders.

  “Why are you hugging my mom?” Obie popped up from nowhere, curiosity in his gaze and a stain of strawberry ice cream on his T-shirt.

  “She’s chilled,” he told the kid, keeping his tone matter-of-fact.

  “Oh.” The boy looked down, then glanced back up, a cute trick Reed had seen his mom do as well. “Do you want to push me on the swings?”

  Cleo was already beginning to unfold from her place on the table. He exerted pressure to keep her in place. “I do. But in a while, after your mom feels warmer.”

  “Okay!” He dashed off.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’ve got hands.”

  She peeked at him through her lashes. “I suppose I know that to be true.”

  Her little tease slightly loosened the knot in his belly. “Feeling better?” he asked, running his hand up and down her upper arm.

  “I was feeling great.”

  “I suppose I know that to be true,” he said, repeating her words.

  Some of the rigidity went out of her body and this time her laugh didn’t hold tears, too. Then she sighed, as if remembering
her burden and the shouldering of it was wearing on her.

  Shit. “I’ve seen the photos,” he said, having no idea if it was the right move or not. “The ones in your bedside table. I wasn’t prying…I stumbled upon them by accident.”

  She turned her head, her brows coming together. “Photos?” Then her expression cleared, understanding dawning even as color rose on her cheeks. “I…”

  “He beat you.”

  “No!” Lowering her voice, she hunched in on herself. “It wasn’t like that. Not exactly.”

  He waited her out. Was rewarded, if you could call it that.

  “I told you that I married him right out of high school. Pete. I’d just turned eighteen, he was already enlisted, and his parents allowed me to live with them. They’re great.”

  “Pete not so much?”

  She sighed again. “He came back from his first deployment…changed. Lots of drinking, staying out all night. I already had Eli and I didn’t know what to do. Then he was sent back to Afghanistan and I was pregnant with Obie.”

  “PTSD?”

  “We suppose so, though he’d always been a hot head. We were so young when we married… I probably didn’t think it through.”

  “You were lonely with your parents gone. In search of family.” He smiled a little at her surprised glance. “Yeah, when I grew up there were eight other kids at the compound but we know what it’s like to be alone…to feel untethered. Believe me.” Some handled the situation better than others. Cilla was eager to cement them all together, while Reed was pretty comfortable with his very solitary existence.

  He’d get back to it, he promised himself. This hindrance that was Cleo and kids to the normally smooth cruise that was his life would resolve itself soon.

  “So…what happened today?” he asked.

  “It began before this morning.” She hesitated. “We divorced a couple of years ago, soon after he got out of the military. He didn’t contest it…as a matter of fact, he didn’t seem interested in me or the boys at all.”

  “I can write volumes about fathers who abandon their kids…oh, as a matter of fact, I do.” Jesse, the hero of his novels, had never known his own.

  She glanced up at him. “But you lived with your dad.”

  He snorted. “I suppose you could say we grew up with a lot of advantages…but one of them was never fathers who gave a shit about us. They were often on tour, and when they weren’t, they were sleeping the days away and fucking up or fucking throughout the night.”

  At her wide eyes, he grimaced and stroked a hand over her hair. “Sorry. You were talking about your divorce…?”

  “He didn’t want custody at all, which I was happy about, given his volatility. The boys and I spent a lot of time with his parents, though. Don and June.”

  She hesitated. “Then a few months ago, he started coming around to my apartment. Drunk.”

  Reed felt another painful spasm in his chest. “When did he hurt you?”

  “It’s funny. Probably what did the most damage to me wasn’t anything physical…it was when he seemed so disinterested in losing his wife and sons. It crushed me…and was probably why I let him into my place that first time.”

  He felt his blood begin to boil. “That first time?”

  “It was only once,” she said hurriedly. “Only the one time when he caused those bruises. June took the photos…she insisted. The Andersons have been so good to me.”

  They should sure as hell be, Reed thought grimly, when their son dared to set his hands on Cleo.

  “He didn’t even mean to.”

  “Cleo.”

  “I know that sounds like I’m excusing him. I don’t think I am.” She combed her hand through her hair and he saw it was trembling slightly.

  Fuck. Unable to resist, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the brightness. “What did he do?”

  “The boys were at a friend’s. Pete came to the door and I let him in before I realized how much he’d had to drink. He said he was looking for something of his, some sports equipment. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he got frustrated. I tried to help him and he pushed me out of the way. I knocked into a chair, tripped, and fell down a couple of steps.”

  Fell down a couple of steps. Reed had to focus on breathing evenly. There was nothing he despised more than a bully. Fell down a couple of steps. “In those photos, you have bruises on your upper arm.”

  “He grabbed me and pulled me upright. He saved me from a longer tumble.”

  “Cleo—”

  “I know.” She rubbed her hand over her mouth. “I know. That’s when I realized I had to get out of Tulare. Move on and start a life for us somewhere else in case he was getting out of control. But then one night before I’d sorted that out…”

  Reed tensed.

  “He came over again, yelling. I couldn’t understand what he wanted and I didn’t let him in. But he broke the lock on the door before I could even make a call. The boys were there, the television was on and they were sitting on the couch. As this man—their father—came storming in, their expressions…they were terrified.” She dropped her head to her hand. “It broke my heart, my trust, and pretty much all my hope.”

  “Oh, darlin’.” He rested his hand on the back of her neck. The skin was so beautiful there. Tender. Vulnerable.

  “I hustled them out of the house and we drove to Don and June’s. Pete was gone by the time the police arrived at my place. That night I phoned my divorce attorney and explained what was happening…and she gave me the contact that brought me here.”

  He squeezed her nape. “Brave. You’re so brave.”

  Her laugh sounded disbelieving. “I’m scared out of my wits, now.” She hauled in a breath. “A couple of weeks ago, Pete went missing. Left his job and his apartment in Tulare.”

  “Does he know where you are?”

  “I didn’t think so. But today…” She cleared her throat, straightened her spine. “Eli told his teacher he thought he saw his dad outside the school fence during the morning recess.”

  Reed instantly turned his attention to the playground, tracking both boys. They were going up the steps to the slide, no stranger in sight. Without taking his eyes off them, he questioned Cleo further. “Would he know where you are?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think he would care—at least not enough to follow us all the way here. But I tried to keep it quiet.” She shrugged. “Don and June know our address but I’m certain they wouldn’t tell him.”

  “Doesn’t mean he couldn’t find the odd envelope in the garbage.”

  Cleo grimaced. “I send them letters and pictures the boys have drawn every week. Stupid me, I always include the return address.”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  Though he might be. A plan was hatching in his mind. He shouldn’t do it, he told himself. He was shit at rescues.

  As he argued with himself, Obie came running up. “Will you push me now?”

  Maybe the activity would reassert his good sense. He glanced at Cleo. “Will you be okay?”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Will you be okay?”

  “Of course. Always.” She said it with a conviction that was belied by the other things she’d told him, things he wouldn’t be surprised that she now regretted.

  I’m scared out of my wits.

  It broke my heart, my trust, and pretty much all my hope.

  Both boys sat on side-by-side swings. Reed got Obie going, and then he turned to Eli. Clearing his throat, he spoke close to the boy’s ear as he drew him back. “You doing okay? Your mom told me what happened.”

  Eli glanced at him over his shoulder, his expression adult, his eyes serious. “We have to take care of her.”

  We? Shit. Reed wasn’t ready for this.

  “Me and Obie” Eli continued. “We will take care of her.”

  Me and Obie. We will take care of her. The words pierced him in a place that he now discovered was dangerously soft. Somehow this kid
, his brother, his mother, had found a way to batter that previously impervious organ in the middle of his chest.

  He wished for an island, a fortress, a castle on a cliff. That scary Gothic mansion that Alexa had imagined for him. There he could be alone. Untouched by concern.

  Cleo wandered over. The boys were moving on their own now, skinny legs pumping. For a second, his nightmare tried to take a living hold of him, but he pushed it away. Faced the woman.

  She was so fucking beautiful. He remembered the tight clasp of her body, the wet inner walls, her delicious moans.

  He had to distance himself from thoughts of that too and addressed the matter at hand. “Have you any considered what you’re going to do?”

  “I suppose I could go back to Tulare—” She shook her head. “I want the boys at this school. I’ve taken them out a couple of days early…Monday starts their two-week October break. Maybe we could go to a hotel or something for a while…until I can think of a way to resolve this.”

  I’m scared out of my wits.

  It broke my heart, my trust, and pretty much all my hope.

  Me and Obie. We will take care of her.

  “I have an idea,” Reed said. He reached for her hand and drew her close. She looked up, her big brown eyes full of questions. For a moment he fought the urge, then he leaned down to kiss her brow. “You and the boys, you’ll move to Laurel Canyon. Into the compound.”

  Chapter Ten

  Cleo passed out the cards from the Crazy Eight deck, ignoring the way both her boys looked out the French doors to the sun-filled afternoon, longing on their faces. “This is going to be fun,” she said in a bright voice. “We haven’t played this game in a while.”

  Eli frowned. “We played last night.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, it will still be fun.”

  “It would be funner to run around outside,” Obie said. He kicked the leg of the kitchen table.

  Cleo gave him a stern look. “Do not harm the furniture. You remember this isn’t ours, right?”

  “I remember,” Obie mumbled.

  She stifled her sigh. Her sons had actually been doing well with the sudden change. After pondering Reed’s offer for them to stay in the small cottage at the compound for about ninety seconds, she’d agreed. What else was a mother to do? While it didn’t solve the problem of Pete and what was going through his mind, it gave her some breathing room while she considered her options.