Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  I sighed in contentment. There is always something peaceful and calming about the beach. The way it allows you to take in its beauty. It’s like the ocean knows all of your deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts. It doesn’t judge you; instead, at that very moment all the pain and sadness you feel just drifts away along with the waves.

  After what seemed like a long time, I turned around to see if Marcus were near, and there he was walking towards me in knee-length black swimming trunks. They were hanging low on his waist, teasing me as they revealed the V shape on his hip bones; his abs were perfectly ripped and tight. They were the most perfect abs I’d ever seen. His chest and broad muscular shoulders screamed for my hands to rub all over him.

  His aviator sunglasses hid his dark eyes, but his smile showed approval of my bikini. He picked up the pace as the sun beamed against his golden tan, and the beautiful scenery behind him made it seem like he was posing for a high-end magazine.

  When he finally reached me, he didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled me in his arms and kissed me hard and passionately. I was already out of it mentally when I noted the image of him walking towards me, but once his lips met mine, I lost complete control of myself. I allowed him to take over my mind and body; and whatever he wanted I was willing to do, so his kiss took over me in a way I couldn’t explain.

  I tried to reach up to further the kiss, but he was too tall, and my toes sank into the sand. His lips spread into a smile at my failed attempt. Slowly bending, he brought me down with him. He sat on the sand, and I nestled on his lap, straddling him. I was able to deepen the kiss as I rustled my fingers in his hair. His arms were strong and secure around me.

  Now that I was sitting on him I felt in control. I took over, trying to overpower him. I bit down on his bottom lip, and he moaned. The vibrant sound from his throat hardened my nipples. He traced his hands along my curves; his touch made my lower belly twist with excitement, and I arched into him. I’d never wanted a man this much.

  Marcus DeLuca had to be a dangerous man because I was caving in too soon; it was just too soon to feel this attachment, to feel and want him so desperately. When something seems too good to be true, it’s exactly that.

  Chapter Eight

  I pulled away from the kiss, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t see his eyes, so I snatched off his sunglasses then grabbed his face with my hands. I looked into his eyes, trying to find his reason, the reason why I was there. All I saw was sincerity in his eyes.

  His chest was pulsing as he took in some air. “Mia, you’re so beautiful … seeing you in this bikini, I can’t control myself.” I sighed, leaning my forehead against his. “You’re killing me.” He whispered to me, closing his eyes and caressing his thumb against my cheek.

  “And you’re killing me, Marcus.” I shook my head. That kiss was too much, too passionate. A kiss like that was meant for two people in love, not meant for two people getting to know each other. I stood, and his eyes squinted with confusion.

  Turning from him, I walked further into the ocean, deep enough for the waves to splash my thighs. Crossing my arms, I stood there and watched the blue waves angrily dance in the distance.

  Marcus was beside me instantly. He gently grabbed my hand and turned me to face him. “What’s wrong, Mia?” He asked with worried eyes.

  It was hard for me to explain my feelings without it coming out the wrong way. Waving my hand in the space between us, I said, “I don’t know Marcus. I don’t know what this is, you know?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what this is either, Mia.” He sighed. Leaning closer, he grabbed my face. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone, but you have to trust me when I say we’ll be fine.” He leaned in and kissed me. This time it was softer and warmer.

  I wanted to trust him, but it was so hard when I’m always let down. Pulling away from his kiss again, I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do that.” I turned and quickly made my way back to our towels without looking back. My feet sank into the sand with every step.

  I reached our towels and grabbed my cover-up, pulling it over my head. When it was completely on, Marcus was already in front of me. His shoulders were hunched forward with his hands on his hips. He was looking down, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath.

  I crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something, and after a moment he looked up. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why can’t you trust me?” I bit my lip, contemplating whether to just let it all out. Screw it. I’m the type of person that needs to say how I’m feeling. I can’t keep it bottled up inside even if it sounds wrong.

  “I’ve only known you for what, four days? And I’m already telling you things I’ve never told anyone…and those kisses the first night and today: those were not ordinary kisses, Marcus!”

  “I know.” He leaned in to me, but I brought my hand up to stop him.

  “Let me finish. Then you can talk.” Placing his hands back on his hips, he gave a small nod. “Trusting people in general is hard for me. You have to understand I came from a life where it’s normal for the people you love and trust to just disappear. I don’t know what a mother’s love is, my father was taken away from me at a very young age, and the one person I had left, the one I ran to for every problem, every heartache, he was…” I fought to hold back my tears when speaking of Michael. I dropped down on the towel Indian style. I felt him beside me, not saying anything just listening. I continued without looking at him.

  “When I was in college, I met a man who told me all the right things. I was young, gullible, and I believed everything he said. After a year in a relationship with him, I found him with his wife and six-month-old daughter in a nearby park. When he saw me, he pretended as if I didn’t exist. It took me a long time to get over it, but I did eventually.

  “My senior year of BU, I met another guy. He was also smooth and knew how to manipulate me. Then I caught him in my dorm room with my roommate. After that I told myself I would never get attached, never allow myself to take another man seriously…and I haven’t. Yet here you are, another man with all the right things to say, and I’m slowly falling for every word. I just got to the point in my life where I accepted being alone not only in a relationship but alone. I have no family, my only friend is a guy I live with, and I'm okay with that.” I turned my head to face him, trying to show him in my expression that I was sincerely fine with it.

  Biting his lip, he shook his head. “Mia, I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. I really am, but please don’t make me pay for other's mistakes. I don’t know where this is leading, but I want to see where it goes. I feel that we could be something, but I can’t prove myself to you if you don’t let me try.” He shifted closer, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in. I laid my head on his chest. “Can you just try? Not just for me but for us? We could have something special.” Lifting my chin with the tips of his fingers, his eyes met mine. His stare deepened with reassurance. “Can you do that, Mia? Can you at least try?”

  Letting out a deep breath, I closed my eyes. “I'll try, but if you screw up once, I don’t care how small, I'm out. Do you understand?” Shooting my eyes open, I gave him a pointed glare.

  He laughed once. “And if you screw up?”

  “I won’t.” I smiled.

  “Okay then, we won’t screw it up, sounds simple enough.” We smiled at each other. I laid my head back on his shoulder, and it dawned on me. I’d be working for him until the end of July. The thought that this was not the first time he’d slept with a co-worker left an unsettling knot in my stomach.

  "Marcus?" I asked unsure if I should even ask what I was thinking.

  "Yeah?"

  "I know I don’t have a right to ask this…but how many females who worked for you have you slept with?" I closed my eyes when I felt his arms tense around me. I knew it. How stupid could I be? He's a handsome man, successful, and powerful. How could he resist having his way with all the women who flirt with him at the
office? “The only reason I'm asking is because I start working for you on Monday, and I don’t want any unexpected surprises.” I bit my lip. Sometimes I don’t know when to just shut up.

  “Well, to be honest … only one,” he said softly.

  “One? Does she still work for you?” I was surprised. I thought it would be dozens.

  "Yes, Mia, but it was strictly a sexual relationship, nothing more. It ended a few months ago, and she knows that our relationship is nothing but business now."

  I shrugged; I could work with that. “I can understand that. I was in a sexual relationship too for several months, but we decided to stop, and we remained friends.”

  “Friends?” He asked.

  “Yeah friends.” I snuggled into his embrace.

  “I thought your only friend was Jeremy?” Shit! Why can't I keep my mouth shut! What do I say? Screw it! It’s going to get out sooner or later, why not sooner, right?

  Taking a deep breath, I strove for honesty. “That's right, he’s my only friend.” Marcus slowly removed his arm from around my shoulder. Lifting his knees, he laid his forearms on them allowing his hands to dangle in front of him. He needed space to collect his thoughts. I turned my body to face him.

  “Wait, so you’re saying that you and Jeremy? Jeremy and you had a sexual relationship?” He seemed dumbfounded. I took another deep breath as I knew this would be hit or miss.

  “Yes.” He shook his head in disbelief. I quickly continued to explain. “It wasn’t like that in the beginning. It started after my brother passed away. I’d never felt lonelier in my life, and he was there, helping me with all the funeral arrangements with the grief. It just happened. Then I thought it wasn’t fair for him or me to continue something that was holding us back from other opportunities. I wanted to try and start dating and seeing people, and so did he. We have a strictly friendship relationship now…we’re more like brother and sister.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood; it didn’t work. His head snapped at me, and he stared with a disgusted expression.

  “A brother who you'll fuck?” he asked, his voice dripping with scorn.

  Whoa! That stung, I didn't mean it like that, and why would he say it in a hurtful way? I didn’t know how to respond to that. My heart dropped at the tone of his voice and the anger of his stare.

  He stood up and stormed away towards the house.

  Should I have lied? I couldn't do that, not when we were trying to get to know each other. I'm not going to hide myself…you either accept me as I am or not at all. My heart began to pick up its pace, and the more I thought of his words, the angrier I grew.

  Not thinking twice, I stood and marched back into the house. My mind was boggled, and I could feel my face heat as my heart sped with anger. I entered through the sliding doors by the kitchen, and he was at the island, pouring himself a strong drink. When I entered, he shot me a sinful glare before gulping his drink down and pouring another one.

  “Who are you to judge me? You know what, Marcus? I’m an honest person, and I thought the purpose of this trip was to get to know each other!”

  He sarcastically laughed once. “Yep, and I think you pretty much summed it up.” He lifted the glass before him and nodded in salute before taking another swig of his drink.

  That pissed me the hell off. I took in a deep breath and blurted out everything without thinking twice. “Fuck you! You want to know who I am, Marcus. Well here it goes! I am temperamental, over-sensitive, and outspoken. I’m honest! I cry at stupid love movies, and I'm a sucker for a romantic novel. I don’t allow people to walk all over me, I have trust issues, and I have insecurities. I’ve slept with four men in my entire life! And the one thing I don’t do is take shit from men who try to act like they’re better than me as if they don’t have any hidden skeletons! I’m not keeping shit hidden, how ‘bout you? You can fuck off. I'll find my own way home. Have a nice fucking life!”

  I stormed out the kitchen, holding back the tears. I was completely outraged! My hands and legs were trembling from the adrenaline. Running up the stairs and missing a few steps in the process, I finally entered the bedroom.

  I grabbed my overnight bag and packed the few clothes I had laid out. I couldn’t see with all the angry tears running down my face. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I had to rush out of here.

  Not even thinking to change into jeans and a shirt, I threw the bag over my shoulder and turned to face the door…but he was there standing in the way, blocking the exit. I looked down, hiding my tears. “Move,” I choked.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

  “Move,” I managed to sound clearer.

  “Please, Mia, I'm sorry.”

  “Marcus, please don’t make me repeat myself.” Not saying another word, he stepped aside. I began to walk towards him. Before I passed the door, he softly took my arm to stop me. I hesitated at his touch.

  He reached for the strap of my bag, and with one brush of his hand, the bag fell to the ground. He lifted both of my hands to his face and lightly brushed my knuckles along his lips.

  “I'm so sorry, Mia. Please don’t go. I was completely out of line. I’m an asshole.”

  I didn’t say anything as I kept my head lowered, still feeling hurt. He wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled me in closer. Leaning his back against the inner entrance of the doorway, he lowered his head and nuzzled my neck. His lips vibrated along my collar bone when he spoke again. “I beg you, don’t go. I'm sorry, baby.” His bare chest felt warm, and his scent drew me in. With my eyes closed, I brushed my cheek against his. The stubble of his growing beard felt nice against my skin. I began to feel weak. He pressed his lips along my cheekbone, trailing soft kisses along my cheek until he reached my lips.

  My initial instinct was to fight him off, but as he slid his tongue into my mouth, I couldn’t resist. I let go, allowing him to possess me, to take over me emotionally and physically. The taste of bourbon mixed with salt from my tears blended surprisingly well, and I desired more. Intensifying the kiss, I was lost once again in his hex. Even after we just fought, I felt safe in his arms and wanted to stay there.

  It wasn’t until my head was pressed against the soft pillow that I realized he had carried me over to the bed.

  His hands remained holding my face, my fingers rustled through his thick hair. The weight of his body on mine caused my heart to race. We were on his bed, and I felt comfortable with what might happen.

  Lifting my right leg, I forced his hip deeper against me, feeling the hardness of his erection deep between my legs. Oh, well now … The thought that I could have that impact on him made me wet and excited.

  He traced his hand down and cupped my breast. I moaned, and he ground his erection against me once again. I wanted him inside me, so I tugged at his hair as our tongues continued to entwine with one another. His hand continued down my curves until he reached the bottom of my cover-up; he slowly brought it up. I pushed away from his kiss and yanked the cover-up over my head. He sat up, kneeling between my legs breathless; looking down at me, his eyes were dark with arousal. He sucked his bottom lip, and I want to lunge at him. “Mia. You’re so beautiful.”

  “So are you. Now come here.” I pulled at his arms, and his sculptured abs pressed against my stomach. Looking at me, he rubbed my cheek with his thumb.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered.

  Reaching my fingers up, I brushed aside a lock of hair that lay over his eyebrow. “Yes, I want you more than you’ll know.” Pressing my hand against his neck, I brought him down to me.

  He pulled back. “Give me a minute.” He jumped out of bed and left the room. Where is he going?

  He quickly ran back into the room, holding up a roll of condoms dangling from his hand. Ah…good boy. I giggled when he shrugged and tossed them onto the side of the bed. I look at them; there had to be at least six. How many did he plan on using?

  He lay back on top of me, and my mind drifted back to him. Leaning down, his lips touc
hed the side of my neck, and I got goose bumps. His lips were so soft and moist, tracing kisses along my collar bone down to my chest. He pulled both strings to my bikini top, allowing my breasts to break free, yearning for his attention.

  Reading my mind, he cupped my bare breasts and lowered his head to them, twirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples. The sensation made me eager, and I pulled on his swimming trunks with my toes. He looked up at me with a wicked grin. “Now, now, be patient. I’m not a selfish man,” he whispered.

  Pouting and letting out a deep breath, I relaxed and allowed him to take control. He continued to fondle my breasts, teasing and making them ache with each lick. I moaned and slightly arched my back. It felt so good…traces of heat were left after each kiss with his lips, all the way down to the middle of my belly.

  I refused to plead as I knew that the wait would be well worth it. His lips reached my hip bone, and he traced his tongue along it as he went lower. Pulling the strings off my bikini bottom, I spread my legs, allowing him access to my most secret place. I moaned when he licked my inner thigh, anticipating what was next. I felt his lips part into a smile when I squirmed. My back arched deeper as he twirled his tongue in and out, up and down. “Marcus,” I moaned as he rubbed me with his fingers to enhance the sensation.

  “You taste so good, Mia.” He groaned. The pleasure was building with each thrust of his skillful fingers and tongue. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was about to explode.

  Spreading my arms aside, I gripped the bed sheets and fully arched my back, tossing my head into the pillow, and yelling his name as my orgasm erupted. I panted and kept my eyes closed. When I caught my breath, he removed his finger and gripped my thighs. He continued to lick between my folds, groaning, until my heart rate lowered.