Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

“I hope you like Italian. I worked hard on this lasagna all day,” he smiles, waving me toward the table.

  “It smells great. What did you put in it?” I ask, taking my seat.

  “Well, let me see,” he says, walking toward the garbage. He pulls out a red box and starts reading the back of it. “Bleached lasagna, tomato puree . . .”

  I laugh until my stomach muscles hurt. “Stouffer’s, huh?”

  “You didn’t really expect me to make a whole lasagna, did you?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect when you invited me over for dinner, but to be honest, I kind of expected something like frozen lasagna,” I joke, watching him roll his eyes at me before turning back toward the stove.

  “Hey, I made the garlic toast and a salad too,” he says, tilting his head to the side with a teasing grin. I wonder if he even realizes how sexy he is when he gets defensive. I’m tempted to ask him what brand of salad mix and frozen garlic bread he bought, but I leave it alone. His effort is worth more than scratch cooking.

  I sit back and take in the view as he pulls everything out of the oven and works to plate our food. The way his brows pull in as he tries to cut the lasagna into perfect squares is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. I know he went to school for engineering, and I think he would have been really good at it because of his attention to detail. Maybe I can actually talk him into going back.

  “Here you go. I hope it all tastes okay, but if it doesn’t you can blame it on the frozen food manufacturers,” he jokes, placing two plates on the table.

  “It looks good.” I smile. And it is. Everything melts against my taste buds, especially when comparing it to the cold sandwiches I usually indulge in for dinner.

  “What did you do after work today?” he asks, sticking half a piece of garlic bread into his mouth.

  “Not much. I took a shower, read a few chapters in my book, and then came here. Same old stuff. What about you?” I ask.

  “You’ll find out later,” he says, avoiding meeting my eyes with his. I would give anything to know what the big surprise is right now. I hate surprises.

  “After we’re done eating?”

  “No, I thought I’d clean the kitchen, then we’d watch the movie, and then I’d give it to you,” he says, reaching his thumb up to wipe it along the side of my mouth before quickly pulling it away, “You had some sauce there.”

  “Maybe we could just skip the movie,” I suggest, eating the last bite on my plate. I have no idea what I’m doing, but flirting with Asher seems like the most natural thing in the world to me.

  “Oh yeah? I can think of a few things I’d like to do more than watch the movie myself. Maybe we can compromise.” He leans into me, resting his hand on my thigh.

  I blush, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Asher is not a shy guy, but sometimes his forwardness catches me off guard. We’ve done some things that I never imagined myself being able to do before I met him. He makes everything feel natural and does it with such gentle kindness that my body has started to enjoy it, rather than cringe from his touch.

  “I’ll help you clean up so we can work on that compromise,” I say, standing up to clear the table.

  He grabs my wrist, halting my progress. “Let’s leave these for a little bit.”

  He wraps my hand within his much larger one and pulls me toward the living room. My breath starts to come a little quicker as I walk with shaky knees toward the couch. He seems so serious which is very unlike him. It makes me nervous.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says, disappearing to the back of the house. I wait with my hands pinched between my shaking knees. The whole house is quiet with the exception of the low hum that comes from the refrigerator and Asher’s feet padding on the hardwood floors.

  When he comes out of his room carrying his guitar, a grin instantly forms on my face. The last time he played for me is still fresh in my mind, and if his surprise is a repeat performance, it’s the most welcome surprise I’ve had in a long time.

  “I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while now, but I wasn’t quite sure how to say it, so I learned to play another song for you,” he says nervously before sitting beside me on the couch.

  I sit silently with my mouth hanging open as he starts to strum on his guitar. At first I don’t recognize the song, but the moment he sings the opening words, “Find me here, and speak to me,” I recognize it as Everything by Lifehouse. I’ve listened to this song many times—the lyrics and meaning behind them are absolutely beautiful. And when Asher sings them to me, keeping his eyes on mine . . . it leaves me breathless.

  During a break in the lyrics, he runs the tip of his tongue against his upper lip and all I can think about is replacing his tongue with mine. His voice is smooth as a rose petal as it vibrates throughout the room. As the song comes to a close, I notice his eyes are glistening, and the tears instantly begin to fall from mine.

  He’s everything I’ll ever want.

  I know this for sure.

  After he plays the last note, he sets his guitar up against the side of the couch and turns to me, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Thank you,” I mouth, placing my hand against his chest.

  He leans his head in, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Everything about that song makes me think of you,” he whispers, breathing warm air against my ear and sending tingles through my body.

  I press my lips to his neck, keeping them still for a few seconds before trailing them down his warm skin. He nuzzles the tip of his nose in my hair, and then lifts his head to get a better look at the needful expression on my face. He skims his fingertips along my jawline, causing my eyes to pinch shut so that all I have left to concentrate on is the way his fingers feel on me. When he moves down the back of my neck and draws me in close to him, I can feel my pulse in my throat as I anticipate his kiss.

  When his lips connect with mine, everything happens a little slower than usual for us. His lips are speaking love to mine, just like the song did. He adjusts his body, moving his knee between my legs so that the fronts of our bodies are connected. I’m so caught up in the moment and the ambiance of his kiss, that I don’t realize my back is positioned comfortably on the cushions of the couch until his chest is pressed firmly against mine. We’ve done this before, worshipping each other with lips and fingers without having to remove any clothes. Tonight, though . . . tonight everything feels different. This feels completely different.

  I reach my shaky hands up and slowly work to unbutton his shirt. Asher stops moving and rests his weight on his elbows as he looks down at me. His eyebrows are drawn up, leaving creases on his forehead. He knows everything about my past . . . my worries, and my shame. He knows that taking our relationship to the next step won’t be easy for me. He has seen the paralyzing pain and regret that lives inside of me every day. He has held my hand as I’ve tried to walk out of the darkness the last couple months. In fact, I’d still be buried deep inside my own misery if it wasn’t for him.

  The palms of his hands rest on the top of my head as he uses his fingertips to trace small circles into my scalp. I unfasten the last button and run my hands across his chest, sliding them over his shoulders and pushing his shirt down his biceps. He leans in and kisses across my jawline.

  When he breaks the contact, he sits up on his knees and pulls me up to face him. His eyes flash back and forth between mine. I know what he’s searching for . . . it’s the same thing I’ve been looking for.

  Reassurance.

  I’m at a fork in the road; I can choose to experience everything I intended to in life, or allow myself to be held down by Drew for yet another night. I can’t keep letting Drew take over my life. Not when Asher has the ability to make things right for me again.

  I nod, holding my arms above my head. His face instantly lights up as he pulls my shirt up, exposing the white lace bra I’m wearing underneath. The way he looks at me with those dusty blue eyes makes my heart melt. It’s a far cry from the mo
nstrous expression I saw on Drew’s face that night. This is my opportunity to burn that out of my mind.

  I’m ready.

  The backs of his hands trail up the length of my arms then he uses the tips of his fingers to trace my collarbone. His movements are slow as his eyes to gauge my comfort level. Every time he removes his fingers from my stomach or any other exposed part of my skin, I crave more.

  “Make love to me.” My voice is low because I’m trying to suppress all the nerves that are coming to the surface.

  His eyes grow wide, but he quickly recovers. “I’m going to do more than that, Kate. I’m going to kiss every inch of your skin, and when I’m done you’re going to feel it right here,” he whispers, placing his hand over my exposed chest.

  I rest my forehead against his, swallowing some of the emotion that threatens to spill tears from my eyes. “Make me forget. I want to feel your hands on my skin. I want to hear your voice in my head over and over, saying words I want to remember instead of ones I want to forget. I want you to touch everything inside of me . . . every part of me.”

  He presses his lips to mine and slowly lowers me back down to the couch, never taking his eyes off me. “Trust me. When I’m done with you, all you’ll think about is me.” He leans in to kiss me again. This time his lips linger a little longer, working to calm my nerves. “And I want you to remember that I will never take anything from you that you don’t want to give. You have all the control.”

  I close my eyes and breathe in as much air as my lungs will hold. It’s time to let the last unlivable memory be rewritten.

  I feel his hands sliding up my stomach, and I open my eyes again to see him staring down at me with a burning intensity. There is no more lingering doubt. The path between us is clear, and I want this. I really want this with Asher, and I can’t imagine sharing this moment with anyone else.

  “If you want to stop at any time, just tell me. I don’t want you to regret this.” My body starts to relax before I even realize what’s happening. “Come,” he says, standing and reaching for both of my hands. When I’m up on my feet, he wraps his arms around me and rests his hands on my lower back.

  I nod and he wraps my hand in his, walking us toward the bedroom. As soon as we cross the threshold, he shuts the door and stands behind me with his hands on my hips. He brushes my hair to the side, letting his fingers linger on my skin and sending a tingling sensation throughout my whole body. I feel feather soft kisses along the back of my neck and across my shoulders. Asher uses his lips to caress my back while his hands cover my breasts and the pads of his thumbs run over my nipples. Relaxing into him, I let him hold me up as my body floods with want.

  He moves his hands back to my hips, using them to turn me around so that we’re face to face again. I can’t stop myself from kissing him as his fingers work at the button on my jeans. He slowly pulls them down my legs without losing the connection I’ve created with our lips.

  The pure agony I felt that night when Drew pulled my pants down surfaces again in my chest, but I easily push it away. I step out of my jeans and work the zipper down on his. His hands cup my face as he places sensual kisses on every feature: my cheeks, nose, right above my eyes and ending with my lips. “You’re so beautiful, Kate. So fucking beautiful,” he says against my lips before pressing into them again.

  His fingers make quick work of the clasp on my bra as I grasp his wild blond hair between my fingers. After he moves my bra slowly down my arms, he walks me backward until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sit, scooting myself back on my hands and feet until my back rests against the headboard. The way his eyes glow as he crawls up my body makes my heart expand in my chest. His body is perfect; muscular but not too large, and the way his hair sweeps forward across his forehead begs me to run my fingers through it.

  He spends several minutes using his mouth to cover every inch of my skin, just like he promised, before nuzzling his nose into my neck. Every time he touches the spot below my ear, shivers run down my spine.

  He grasps the edges of my panties between his fingers and slides them down my legs as I feel my breath quicken. Every move he makes is done out of love. He’s not just going to have sex with me. He’s not going to take anything from me that I don’t want to give him. He’s going to make love to me, sweet and slow, paying attention to every part of my body.

  When his lips softly caress the inside of my thighs, I close my eyes to concentrate completely on his touch. My eyes shoot open as soon as his mouth leaves my skin, and I watch as he sits back, pulling his jeans and boxer briefs down. I ball my hands tightly into fists and swallow the lump that’s formed in the back of my throat.

  I stay still as he reaches into the drawer next to the bed and pulls out a condom. When I hear the familiar sound of foil ripping, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. As I slowly open my eyes again, I’m met by his warm blues.

  “Are you okay?” he whispers, leaning over to kiss my chin.

  I nod, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “More than okay.”

  I’m really going to do this. I’m going to have sex with Asher.

  He may not be the first guy to be inside of me, but he will be the first guy whose body I’ve ever wanted to be connected to. This is how I imagined losing my virginity would be like.

  He covers my body with his, letting me feel how much he wants this. His face hovers right above mine, and I can see his eyes illuminated by the soft moonlight. “I’ll erase everything he left inside you,” he whispers against my lips, sliding his hand between our chests, covering my rapidly beating heart.

  When his hand moves down my stomach and stops between my legs, I take a deep breath. “Relax,” he says, brushing his lips against mine, “I’m going to take care of you.” He slowly slips one finger inside of me then two and my whole body tenses up again, but after a few gentle motions, I begin to relax.

  Everything he is doing to me feels so right.

  A tear rolls down the side of my face as he removes his finger and slowly guides himself into my body. He fills me a little bit at a time, letting me adjust to him. I take several deep breaths and turn my head to the side, trying to concentrate on anything but the old memories that I’m trying to leave behind.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” he says, using his index finger to turn my face back toward him. He moves slowly, never taking more control than I’m willing to give him. It’s a dance of give and take; pleasure and healing.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, stopping to cradle my head in his hands.

  One look up at his concerned eyes and the question becomes easy to answer. “Yes,” I whisper, pulling his face down to mine. I need him to relax and feel this moment with me. This is the most emotionally packed experience that I’ve ever been through; one blissful experience replacing a haunting memory.

  He remains still, never taking his eyes off of me. He slowly starts to move again as his lips brush against mine. There’s a little discomfort from the newness of him and my inexperience, but after several slow, soothing movements it eases, allowing me to completely focus on him. I try to read his gorgeous expression, letting the thoughts take away the control that the old, painful memories want to gain.

  His body never leaves its place on top of mine. He keeps his pace controlled and barely blinks as his eyes bore into my soul. He looks at me like he wants and needs me, like no matter what I do or what’s been done to me; he’ll be here for me. He looks at me like he’ll never get enough.

  His hand reaches between our connected bodies again. “I want you to feel this, Kate. I want to feel you feeling it,” he growls, gently stroking my sensitive, aroused flesh. What he’s doing to me feels so good. It’s chasing the tension from my body. I’m walking closer and closer to the edge of a cliff that I actually want to jump off of . . . and the next time he pushes himself into me, I do. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I feel weightless as my body clenches around his.

  Asher quickens his pace a
nd his own breathing picks up. Just as I’m recovering from my fall, his body tenses above mine as I watch his lips part. “Kate.” His breathing is labored when he slides down next to my body, cradling my head in his hands and laying his head between my breasts.

  I’m relishing in the moment, running my fingertips up and down his back. If all things could be like this, there would never be anything to forget. I never want to be without Asher. I feel like he was sent here to awaken my soul, but he chose not to stop there.

  He awakened everything.

  His head lifts to place a firm, lingering kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, he rolls his lower lip between his teeth and all I can think about is kissing him again. I wrap my hands behind his neck and bring his mouth back down to mine. “Your kisses are amazing,” I whisper, smiling up at him.

  “No, this whole night has been amazing,” he says. “More than amazing actually.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “I’m the one that should be thanking you. You are so fucking beautiful.”

  “Your body isn’t half bad either,” I respond, kissing him one more time.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb against my forehead.

  “I’d stay with you every night if you asked me to.” He rolls onto his back and cradles me against his chest.

  I could definitely fall asleep like this every night.

  Chapter 18

  Waking up wrapped in Asher’s arms is like waking up on a cloud where nothing can hurt me. I slept better than I have in over two years. There was no lying in bed and over-thinking anything. No nightmares. It was just the two of us.

  The whole night has been like a dream to me, and I’m hesitant to open my eyes; I can still feel the steady rhythm of Asher’s chest rising and falling under my cheek. I reach down and entwine his fingers with mine, causing his arms to grip me a little tighter. Life should always be made of mornings like this.

  “Hey, what are you doing up so early?” he asks in his rough, deep morning voice.