Bent not Broken

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Bent not Broken Page 250

by Lisa De Jong


  I can’t stand it anymore. I need him, so I tell him. “Adrian, I need you. I need you inside of me now.”

  He doesn’t make me wait any longer. I feel him nudging and I wrap my legs around him and pull him into me. His head falls to my neck where he groans and tells me I feel so good. I want those blues back.

  “Blues, please,” I murmur.

  “Hmm?” He looks up at me.

  “I don’t want to lose my blues,” I tell him, running my fingertips along his brow bone.

  He gives me his eye-crinkling smile before his expression turns serious and he begins working my body in earnest. “My wife, my love,” he says as moves in and out of me with precision. I’ve never felt more loved, more cherished, more alive.

  “Husband, I love you,” I whisper.

  “My heaven, I love you,” he declares as he sinks even further into me, his blues never leaving me.

  ****

  ADRIAN ASKS ME if I’d like to go out for drinks and dinner. I do not. I want as much quiet time with him as possible, so we order room service and champagne. Then we veg out in front of the TV. Him in his shorts. Me in my silk. Us laughing ridiculously at Friends reruns.

  “Chandler’s the funniest.” I argue as I toss another grape in his mouth, and he breaks off another slice of cheese for me. “He has that dry, clever sense of humor that I absolutely love and find so sexy.”

  “You think Chandler’s sexy?” he asks with a smirk.

  “Yes, his sense of humor makes him nerd hot.”

  “Nerd hot?” He grimaces. “I don’t like you thinking about how hot other guys are,” he says on pout.

  I can’t help but laugh out loud. “He’s a fictional character, Adrian. You can’t possibly be jealous.”

  “The hell I can’t!”

  I gasp. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Matthew Perry is real,” he persists.

  “Oh, yes, and if he lived around here you’d really have the right to be concerned,” I say my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  He doesn’t miss a beat. “He doesn’t live here, but he visits here. I’ve met him.”

  “You’re not kidding,” I say with shock. Springing up on my knees, I scoot over to him and push him back before straddling him. I grab both of his hands and hold them at his sides as I lean in and tell him, “You are the sexiest.” Kiss. “The hottest.” Nip. “The funniest.” Bite. “The most intelligent.” Lick. “The kindest.” Long, lingering kiss. “Man I’ve ever known. You have no reason to be jealous—ever—even of Matthew Perry who we both know is ridiculously good looking and funny.” I can’t help but laugh as I place a chaste kiss on his lips.

  My laughter is short-lived as he has me on my back and under him before I know what’s hit me. He nips at my mouth with his teeth before running them up my jaw to my ear. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Celeste,” he warns me. I pull back and see his eyes twinkling.

  “You’re not funny,” I complain. “I thought you were really jealous. I was wondering what I’d gotten myself into.”

  He starts laughing in earnest. “I am jealous. I’m not kidding about that. I’m just not really mad about it. Seriously, if you run into Perry on the street, steer clear. I can see the headlines now—‘Local Mafia Princess Runs Away with Geeky Funny Guy Leaving Behind Devastated Marine/Guitarist.’”

  I lock my legs around him and squeeze because now I’m pissed. “Take it back,” I say when he gasps for air.

  “Shit! I’m sorry I forgot. You’re not a Mafia Princess!”

  “Not that part! He’s not a geek! He’s a nerd and there’s a difference.” I laugh and release him.

  He rolls to the side. “Ow, that was just mean. Remind me to never wrestle you.” I just giggle.

  Propping up on his elbow, he says, “You’ve got way too much energy. Let’s go for a swim on the roof.”

  “Oh, yes. I forgot they have a heated pool!” I jump up and off the bed to get changed.

  “I didn’t realize you liked to swim so much,” he calls after me.

  I poke my head back out. “Do you know how often I get to swim without children? Swimming without getting cannonballed, getting pushed in every five seconds, being told to look at every jump, and timing every held breath is like...like bliss. I think. I can’t remember the last time I did it, so I’m fuzzy. Why are you still lying there? Get changed,” I squeak.

  ****

  BLISS. IT IS utter bliss. It’s late so we have the pool to ourselves. I dive. I swim laps. I float on my back with my eyes closed, none of which I can ever do with the kids around. Finally, I get bored and swim under a passing Adrian to get his attention. I pinch at him until he comes up sputtering for air.

  “I thought you wanted a quiet swim.”

  I give him a half-smile. “I missed you.”

  He takes my hands and spins himself, fastening me to his back and swims us to a spot where he can stand. I unfurl my body and paddle around to the front of him, winding my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck.

  He wraps his arms around my back and lays his head against mine. We’re quiet for a while before he finally breaks the silence.

  “Cel, I have to tell you something. Something that’s been weighing on me.”

  “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

  “I do, but I don’t want to upset you. I need you to know.”

  “OK, baby.” I lean back and capture his face with my hands. Placing a kiss on his forehead, I murmur, “I’m not going to waste any of our precious little time being upset, so spill.”

  He releases a deep breath, stills for a couple of beats, and tells me, “I’m not entirely sad to be leaving.” He immediately tenses, so I rub his neck a little.

  I grin a little and shrug. “I know that.” My eyes immediately fill with tears.

  “You do?” I feel him relax a little.

  “Of course. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you weren’t willingly going to help your brothers. They may have activated you and told you to go, but you do so without hesitation or regret.”

  He assesses me with that knowing gaze. “And you’re good with the fact that I’m actually looking forward to getting over there and helping out?”

  “I’m not jealous of your brothers or this war, Adrian. I admire you too much. Am I sad to lose you for six months? Absolutely wrecked. I don’t know how exactly I will do it, but I will. I’ll put one foot in front of the other and all with a smile on my face and gladness in my heart because that’s what I have to do, what many spouses have to do every single day.” He pulls me in for a little kiss.

  “You can do it. You’re strong, baby.”

  “Just know, however, that underneath all that ‘have to’ is my ‘want’. I’ll be wanting for you every second—”

  His kiss cuts me off. He whispers his love for me over and over again until his kisses turn more heated than reverential. When I feel my bathing suit being pushed aside and some exploring fingers, I tremble and look around. There’s no one here, but still it feels weird.

  Before I can protest, his fingers find their way inside me, and my legs involuntarily squeeze him to me tighter. Pushing the material aside with his thumb, he works my nub as his fingers plunge inside me again and again. My mouth opens to cry out, so I let it fall to his shoulder and bite down hard while my fingernails dig into his back. A growling Adrian nips and sucks at my neck as my release washes me, and I bite and claw harder until he’s wrung it all from me.

  I go limp in his arms as I come back down, but I can tell he’s just gearing up as he presses hard into me. I’m not ready for full-fledged exhibitionism, so I whisper, “Adrian, let’s go to our room.”

  He throws back his head in laughter. “Yeah, that’s probably wise, but I think I need to take a couple more laps. I...uh...might shock some people on the way to our room.”

  I join him in his laughter. “Tsk, tsk, what a waste. If my legs will work, how about I walk in front of you?”

>   “That could work. Come on, Mrs. Adrian Hebert, escort your horny husband to your chamber.”

  ****

  WE MAKE IT to our room without being spotted. When Adrian closes the door behind us, I attack him. Making my incredible man feel good is my number one priority. I lavish him with kisses as he lets his towel drop to the floor and his head drop back on the door. I make swift work of removing his t-shirt and untying his shorts, running my hands alongside the band and pushing and pulling until I have enough of him exposed to do what I want with him.

  “I have to say I like this side of you,” he says with a groan as I massage his length from his shorts. “I had no idea you’d have all this naughty underneath all that nice.”

  “Yeah? All this naughty is all yours.”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Raining kisses down his shuddering abs, I slow down and place a light kiss on his tip before running my tongue over his length. His hands find their way into my hair to tangle and pull while I make a meal of him and elicit sounds from him that act as fuel for my raging fire.

  “Celeste, oh mimi, yes,” he hisses, his naughty term of endearment only serving to further encourage me. I feel him pull at my hair a little before his voice huskily asks, “Do you want me? All of me?”

  I’ve never desired anything more. Moaning, I pull him deeper with my mouth and run my hands around to his ass to push him even further. He takes that action exactly as intended and begins to pump and drive into my mouth in earnest. I devour all that he has to offer until he ceases trembling.

  I work my way back up his glorious body with my mouth until I get to his. His hands, still in my hair, tighten to the point of almost pain as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and feasts on me.

  Pulling back a little, I mumble against his lips, “Did I make you feel good?”

  “Mmm...my mimi. You made me feel better than good. Cherished. You make me feel cherished. You have no idea what that does to me.”

  I laugh as he begins slipping my cover and bathing suit off. “I think I have an idea of what it does to you.” I can already feel him getting hard against my stomach. I shiver.

  “I’m going to go run us a bath in the whirlpool so that I can wash every delectable inch of you and warm you back up. Outside,” he says, placing a kiss on my breast, “...and in.” He punctuates that promise with a quick thrust of his finger inside me, and I feel weak. “You’re drenched, mimi.”

  “You’re insatiable,” I kid.

  He’s bending before me now to help my suit from around my feet. “Damn straight,” he says matter-of-factly. “I won’t apologize for my need of you. It was torture. Fucking years...”

  Kissing him lightly on the neck as he begins to straighten in front of me, I say, “I’m so grateful no one was able to snatch you up.”

  Those beautiful blues meet mine, and I’m in awe of the love I see shining there. I’d caught that fleeting look before over the years but had always chalked it up to other emotions because, in my mind, we didn’t have any other options. I can’t believe I can finally let myself bask in it.

  His arms curl around the back of my knees and my back as he lifts me in his arms. His voice is as strong as his body as, he proclaims, “I was never anyone else’s to have. You own me, Celeste. Always have. Always will.” My heart melts, yet my fear ignites. I can’t lose this. I can’t lose him. Pulling him to me, I devour him as he carries me into the bathroom.

  “Up you go,” he says as he sets me on the counter and turns to get our bath running. I watch his strong back bend over and am mesmerized by him once again.

  “You don’t have any tattoos.”

  “Umm...nope.”

  “Why not? I mean most Marines have lots of tattoos. Not to mention guys in bands.”

  “Uh, I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never felt that strongly about having something on my body forever. Never felt the inclination.” He pours some bath salts and soaps in.

  “That’s plenty. Come here and I’ll keep you warm while we’re waiting,” I tell him.

  He turns and pushes his shorts down the rest of the way. His eyes never leaving mine so that he has to push the shorts off with his feet. He kicks them to the side as he begins to stride toward me.

  I lick my lips in anticipation. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me to the edge of the counter. I lean back on my palms as he licks and nips and kisses. He runs the backside of one hand down my neck, between my breasts, and over my stomach as his eyes follow his hand. Running both hands down my legs, he grabs my ankles and props them up on the counter flush with my hips. “Hold the edge of the counter,” he orders as he inserts a thumb into my mouth. “Suck,” he orders again. I suck. Placing it on my tight bud and rotating it, he murmurs, “That was completely unnecessary, mimi. You’re still so wet.”

  I can only groan and hold on as he dives between my legs and brings me to climax in a matter of moments. “Adrian,” I mumble. I slide into his arms, and he lifts and carries me to the tub.

  Placing me on my feet, he holds my hips and asks, “Can you stand up for a second?”

  “Yes,” I say with a laugh. “You have a mighty high opinion of your ability for bringing me down, sir.”

  “You never know.” He punctuates that sentence with a slap to my behind. I stumble forward a bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says proudly.

  “No, that’s only because you smacked my ass.”

  “Mmm...say that again.”

  “Smack my ass.” I tease as I bite my lip. He obliges with a chuckle.

  He bends, turns the water off, and climbs in. Once he’s situated, he helps me in and arranges me in front of him. The bath and he both feel heavenly. We enjoy the quiet for several minutes.

  “This is something else I haven’t had in a while...a bath,” I say with wonder. “You don’t realize how insane your life is until it slows down for a bit.”

  “Or until things happen that put shit in perspective for you,” he says. I turn my head and give him a quick kiss.

  He reaches for the bath sponge and soaps it up while I just lie there like a slug. He runs the sponge over me leisurely. He gets real leisure-like around certain parts and that has me giggling. “Sit up,” he says.

  I do and he pushes my hair aside and washes my back. He turns the water back on and reaches for the extender. Once he’s washed all the soap from me, he says, “Lean your head back.”

  I push my hair back around and lean my head back as he wets it. “Hold this,” he says as he hands me the extender and reaches for the shampoo.

  “I can do it,” I tell him. I have a lot of hair.

  “I got it, mimi.”

  “OK,” I can rewash it tomorrow, I think.

  I hear him lather up his hands and then they dive into my hair with sureness and smoothness. “Oh my God,” I say with a gasp. “That feels amazing.” I draw the word out as far as it will go.

  “Mmm hmm,” he says, and I can tell he’s smirking. “You doubted me. How could you doubt me?”

  “It’s not easy to wash all this hair. My apologies, sir.”

  It ends all too soon, and he rinses the soap from my hair. “Conditioner, ma’am?”

  “Are you serious? Absolutely.” He repeats the process and has me humming.

  “All right,” he says. “I’m washing up quick. All those sounds you were making have me hard again,” he complains.

  “Are you complaining?” I ask.

  “Hell no, but this water’s not gonna stay warm long enough for me to do what I want to you.”

  “Oh!”

  “Yeah, oh!”

  I turn around and help him as quickly as possible.

  Eighteen

  Feel This Kiss

  LIGHT STRUMMING COMING from the other side of the room wakes me from a most peaceful slumber. I put my arms over my head, stretching languidly before finally forcing my eyes open. It’s our last day together, and I can’t waste it sleeping. I pop up on my elbows and admire him without him noticing me f
or a few minutes. He’s wearing his faded and frayed jeans and is barefoot and bare-chested. Closing his eyes for a second, he appears deep in thought before they spring back open, and he stops his playing to jot something down. He tosses his pen down, runs his hand through his hair, and then snatches up his cup of coffee.

  As he tilts his head back for a drink, his eyes meet mine and he grins around his cup. “Mornin’,” he says before taking a pull on his coffee.

  “Good morning,” I reply as I reach for my glasses. “Did you sleep well?”

  “No, not at all,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

  My mouth drops. That’s sweet. “I’m sorry.” I’m not.

  “I’m not,” he says, seemingly reading my thoughts. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Please tell me you have more coffee.”

  “I do.”

  “Oh good,” I say. “Give me just a moment.” I dash into the bathroom and brush my teeth quickly. I need something before I need my coffee.

  Crossing the room quickly, I bend in front of him and kiss him deeply before snatching my coffee and crawling back up on the bed. He chuckles at me and starts his strumming back up. I drape the cover over me a little since all my silk purchases had gone to waste.

  “What are you working on?” I ask.

  “A new song. I’ve been working on it for a couple of weeks,” he says with a smile.

  My stomach does somersaults. “What’s it about?”

  “You,” he says simply.

  My stomach has lodged itself in my throat. “Really?” I squeak.

  “Mmm hmm.” He continues strumming. “Wanna hear it?”

  “Really?” I squeak again.

  He doesn’t answer just smiles and begins playing my song.

  I don’t know what I’m expecting, but it certainly isn’t the ballad that he’s written for me. Each stanza is dedicated to our unique kisses. From my first tentative kiss, to his all-consuming one, to our lust-fueled one, to our one filled with promise. Though each kiss is different, the theme remains constant—pure love and adoration.

  I swallow hard. “Adrian, that was...beautiful.” I stare at him at a complete loss for what to say. He starts to put his guitar down. “Wait!” He freezes. “Will you play it again for me?” He wrinkles his brow but nods. “Hold on.” I hold the sheet around me and reach for my phone. I play with it until I get to the screen I want and hit record.

 

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